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Authors: Kaye Dacus

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Romance, #Contemporary

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BOOK: Love Remains
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Zarah sank into the seat of her car with a sigh and pulled away from the building just as Todd came out the front door. Something about the interest he’d shown in the East Nashville property didn’t sit right with her. She wasn’t sure why, but there was something in the tone of his voice when he’d questioned her about finding evidence—or not finding it—that set off a warning in the back of her mind.

Bobby had access to all kinds of research tools. Maybe he would be willing to look into Todd Warren for her, if for nothing else than to give her peace of mind before the next committee meeting.

Yes, tonight at church, she would ask Bobby if he could look into who Todd Warren was and what his true agenda might be. Not only would it be helpful to her, the request would hopefully set his mind at ease and quench his jealousy.

Not that she minded Bobby being jealous over another man showing interest in her. It meant he still cared. Didn’t it?

Chapter 21

T
he classroom echoed the snap of the light switch. Zarah looked up from arranging the name tags on the welcome desk, for which the sunset blazing in through the windows had provided plenty of light. Patrick raised his hand in a tentative wave.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me early tonight.” She set the stack of plastic-laminated tags on the table and motioned toward one of the small circles of chairs still set up from Sunday school three days ago.

“I’m sorry I didn’t have time to talk Sunday.”

“And that you’ve been avoiding my calls for the last week?” She smiled at him as she took one of the chairs, but she wasn’t going to let him off the hook.

“And that I’ve been avoiding your calls.” Patrick sat a few chairs away and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “I know why you want to talk. It’s because I’ve been keeping stuff from you.”

“Stuff.” She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.”

“I’m sorry. I kept Stacy and me a secret from the class because I didn’t want to see the problems we had last time a pair who had leadership roles started dating. It took us forever to rebuild from that.”

“I can understand your wanting to keep it private from the group—but from me?” Zarah toyed with the long gold chain of her pendant watch. “I don’t understand why you didn’t feel you could trust me.”

Patrick’s head snapped up. “No—Zarah, no. It didn’t have anything to do with whether or not I trust you. You’re like a sister to me. I didn’t tell you because…well, because every time I started to, it just felt weird. Like I was letting you down or something. Ever since you taught that series in Bible study on finding contentment in our singleness, I felt like I’d be disappointing you if I told you I was lonely and wanted to get married.”

Zarah covered her mouth, horror-stricken. “Oh, Patrick. I never—
never
—wanted anyone to feel… I’m so sorry. The one time I muster up the courage to teach, and I screwed it up. I’ve got to explain, to let everyone know I didn’t mean it that way.”

Patrick reached over and patted her knee. “I think I’m the only imbecile who interpreted it that way, Zare. Don’t stress yourself out over it. It was stupid of me. I should have at least taken you aside and told you before announcing it to the whole class. Stacy was furious with me when she found out I hadn’t done that. That’s why she didn’t come to class Sunday—she was too embarrassed and told me she couldn’t face you until I’d made it right.”

“You make sure she knows that she has nothing to be embarrassed about.” Okay, she’d made it through that part of the confrontation. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the next part. “Now, about the meeting with Pastor Joe last week.”

Patrick hung his head again. “I got no excuse. That’s totally on me. When Stacy and I went to Pastor Joe to tell him we’re engaged so we could schedule some pre-wedding counseling sessions with him, that’s when he told me about this idea he’d come back from the pastors’ conference with. I thought it would be great but—well, I wasn’t sure you’d like the idea. So instead of telling you myself, I thought you might take it better coming from the pastor. I didn’t know how badly
he’d mangle the telling of it, though.”

Zarah wasn’t sure if she should be hurt over these two clear instances that Patrick didn’t trust her or touched by the fact that he didn’t want to do anything to hurt or disappoint her.

“Think you might could see your way clear to forgiving me for being such an idiot, Zare?”

Whenever Patrick turned on his good-ol’-boy charm, Zarah couldn’t deny him anything. “Of course, I’ll forgive you. I just hope that, in the future, you’ll see your way clear to trust me to be able to handle anything that’s going on before it happens and blindsides me.”

He stood and grabbed her up into his arms in an almost-suffocating bear hug. “I promise.”

“Thanks.” She steadied herself by grabbing the back of a chair when he released her.

“Is everything okay?” A timid voice came from the door.

Zarah turned, then crossed the room to give Stacy a hug. “Everything’s fine.” She stepped back and held the petite woman by the shoulders, generating as serious an expression as she could muster. “Of course, I’ll be praying for you, Stacy. You’re going to need all the prayers you can get to put up with Patrick.”

Stacy and Patrick both laughed, and a warm feeling settled in Zarah’s chest. As others meandered in, some from the supper downstairs, some from work, Zarah greeted each one with a growing enthusiasm for the ministry and the new opportunities everyone—the new teachers, the students, and she—would have for further growth.

Movement at the door caught her eye, and her excitement flagged. She might be in for a long night after all. Walking in with Flannery was a somewhat good-looking man Zarah had never met before—and his stance and body language made it obvious he wasn’t
with
Flannery. Which could only mean one thing.

“Zarah, you’re here already.” Flannery diverted over toward the welcome table, pulling the stranger with her. “Zarah Mitchell, meet Jack Colby.”

Zarah’s jaw almost hit the floor. Flannery had been talking about Jack Colby, an associate publisher at the book publishing company where Flannery worked as an editor for years—and she had something of a love/hate relationship with the man. She loved that he could get her requests and projects pushed through. She hated that he questioned her decisions, especially about acquisitions, regularly.

For some reason, Zarah had always pictured him in his late forties or early fifties. Not the mid- to late-thirtyish guy she now shook hands with.

“Flannery’s told me so much about you that I asked her if I’d ever get the chance to meet you. So she invited me to come. I hope you aren’t put out with either of us.” Jack Colby’s blue eyes twinkled, and the dimple in his chin deepened.

“I’m just frightened to know what she’s told you about me.” Zarah cast a glare at her friend.

Flannery rolled her eyes upward and feigned a look of innocence with one index finger touching the corner of her mouth.

Jack laughed. “Nothing bad, I assure you. She did tell me you’re working on a book about your great-grandparents. I’d love to hear about that.”

Zarah took a fortifying breath to keep from slugging Flannery in the arm. “They’re my great-great-great-grandparents, and it’s personal research, not a book.”

“Jack, it’s a book. And it’s a great story. I keep telling her she either needs to publish it as creative nonfiction or get our friend Caylor Evans to help her fictionalize it.” Flannery looked down and pulled her smart phone off the clip on her belt. “Excuse me. I’ve got to take this.”

Flannery was hindered from leaving the room when someone else tried to enter it at the same time.

Zarah’s insides gave a little lurch. Bobby’s smile faded when he looked down at Flannery—who glared up at him.

Oh dear. She was going to have to speak to Flannery, get her friend
to stop acting like a mother tiger defending her cub. If Zarah really had a chance to work things out with Bobby, having Flannery continue to treat him with open hostility wasn’t going to help.

“I would love to look at what you have so far and let you know if it’s something worth trying to get published. Sounds like Flannery is pushing you in that direction.”

Zarah reluctantly tore her gaze from Bobby and returned it to Jack. “Flannery is somewhat biased when it comes to the quality of what I’ve written. She’s heard me tell the story aloud several times. She hasn’t read what I’ve written—which probably reads more like an article in a historical journal than a book. Besides, why would anyone want to buy a book about my ancestors?”

“If it’s a compelling story, it could reach a good base of customers. Especially if we sent you on a media tour of all the big broadcasters.” Jack stroked his chin as a man who had a beard might do.

From the corner of her eye, Zarah kept tabs on Bobby’s whereabouts and progress into the room. Right now, he stood in a group of men, with several women hovering around outside the group, heads together, whispering.

“A media tour? Now I know I don’t want to get published. I’d never be able to do something like that.” If she angled like this… She took a step to her left and turned slightly—now she was in Bobby’s line of sight, if he’d just look in this direction.

“Aw, all of our authors say that when they’re first getting started. But once they get out there and get a taste of the attention of the media—especially the national media—they find themselves liking it more and more.” Jack reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat. “Tell you what. Why don’t you give me a call, and we can set up a time to get together for lunch or dinner and talk about this further. I hate to ruin something like this by talking business.”

Zarah slipped the card into an inside pocket in her carryall and handed him one of hers. Flannery chose that moment to reappear. She beamed at Zarah as Jack took the card.

Jack looked like he wanted to ask Flannery whom she’d been talking to, and Flannery looked like she wanted to tell him. Zarah started backing away, taking a glance across the room to gauge Bobby’s position and whether she could get to him without being obvious as to her intention.

Of course, Patrick would choose that moment to holler for everyone to take a seat. Disappointed, Zarah took one last look toward Bobby over Flannery’s shoulder.

Their gazes locked. A slow smile spread over Bobby’s face. Heat exploded in Zarah’s face, and her lips trembled with the effort of controlling her responding smile. She glanced down, then back up again.

Bobby winked at her before moving off to the large circle. Still smiling, she adjusted the straps of her carryall on her shoulder. But the smile melted almost as quickly as it formed. No matter how she felt about Bobby, allowing him to fall in love with her when he didn’t know the truth about her wasn’t right. He deserved to know. He deserved the opportunity to walk away sooner rather than later, when the revelation of the truth would be devastating.

She should tell him tonight.

“We should go find seats.”

At the flat tone of Flannery’s voice, Zarah turned to look at her—and was surprised by the frown on her friend’s face. Zarah cocked her head and gave her a questioning look.

Flannery shook her head. “Later.”

Somehow, she ended up sitting between Flannery and Jack. Though he personally didn’t make her uncomfortable, the idea that Flannery had brought Jack to meet her—as in
meet
her—made her squirm in her seat.

As he had done Sunday, Patrick explained the changes that would take place in the Sunday school structure. She bowed her head when Patrick led the opening prayer.
Lord, thank You so much for allowing me the honor of serving You here for so many years. I’m not sure exactly what
it is You want me to do next, but please help me to graciously step aside so You can raise up the next leaders and so that others can enjoy growing closer to You through serving in this wonderful ministry
.

Give me the right words with which to tell Bobby about me—and the strength to handle it if he decides to walk away. Ame—

Oh, and Lord, please help me figure out how to tell Flannery I don’t want her trying to set me up anymore. Amen
.

BOOK: Love Remains
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