Raspberry Kisses (The Bakery Romance Series Book 1) (2 page)

Chapter Three

              “Good morning!” Martin Lane pressed the fast food breakfast sandwich into the grimy hand of the homeless person.

              “Thanks, Pastor Martin.” The hobo shifted his backpack, hesitating, glancing down the sidewalk.

One of the homeless people waiting in the line spoke up. “You’re holding up the line! The rest of us have got to eat!”

He dipped his head, gazing into Martin’s eyes. “You mind if I have two sandwiches?” he whispered.

A huge cooler of fast food breakfast sandwiches rested on the small table. The savory, crisp scent of bacon and sausage floated in the air, enticing more people to approach the line. Further down, some of his church members served coffee and orange juice to the homeless people living on the streets. Feeding The Homeless, a ministry he’d started at his father’s church, had thrived, and he hoped he had enough sandwiches to feed the long line of folks. He leaned closer to his current customer, lowering his voice. “I’ll tell you what, go and stand back at the end of the line, and when it’s your turn again, I’ll give you another sandwich if we have any more left.”

He nodded, showing his toothless smile. “Sounds good.”  He then moved on down the line towards the drink stand. Martin’s sister Trina stood at the end, manning another table, giving each of their patrons an apple. As far as he knew, they usually ate their fruit later. Since a lot of the homeless did not have dental care, many had lost a lot of their teeth. Some of them didn’t accept the fruit if they didn’t have enough teeth left to crunch into the apple.

After the supply of sandwiches had been exhausted, he admired the bright sunshine spilling from the pale blue sky. He closed his eyes.
Lord, thank you for this beautiful morning. Please help all of the people we’ve served today.
He opened his eyes and Hosea, a regular homeless patron, approached, dragging his sack of belongings behind him. He grinned, patting Martin on the shoulder.
“Buenos dias, Pastor Martin!”

Martin returned Hosea’s smile.
“Buenos dias.”
People were always surprised to discover he spoke Spanish. He’d found that being bi-lingual had helped him immensely when ministering.

“
Creo que he encontrado un hogar
.”

Martin clapped Hosea on the shoulder, grinning. It was awesome to hear that he may have found a place to live. “
Bueno
!”

He’d been praying with Hosea every week, talking to him, hoping that he’d find a place to live as well as a job. Martin bowed his head, and in Spanish, he said a prayer for Hosea, a prayer of thanks. “Amén.”

Hosea whispered his amén, sharing a brief hug with Martin, before returning to a group of his friends sitting under a large oak tree.

Martin’s sister, Trina, sauntered over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder she stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek. “Hey, what’s that for?”

She giggled, her brown eyes sparkling. “I overheard what Hosea said. It’s wonderful that you’ve ministered to him, prayed for him. You’re a wonderful assistant pastor at daddy’s church and I think you forget that sometimes.”

He frowned, turning away. Lately, with the current turmoil within his church, he’d felt his faith had been tested.

Trina swatted his shoulder. “Hey, stop frowning. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately and that’s why I suggested you go to that singles’ retreat.”

They walked toward a bench and sat. He glanced at his church members as they opened boxes containing single serving sizes of applesauce. After all of the hot food had been served, his parishioners would approach the homeless people, offering applesauce and spoons, talking to them, even praying with them. Seeing his flock ministering to the homeless caused a huge buoyant feeling of joy to unfurl within him.

He eyed Trina. “I don’t feel like talking about the singles’ retreat.”

“Why not? You agreed to be one of the speakers.”

“Only because you talked me into it.”

“Well, you need to get away and enjoy yourself.”

She didn’t fool him one bit. She’d been on his case about finding a wife for over a year now, and she’d probably talked him into speaking at this retreat hoping he’d meet somebody.

She folded her arms in front of her chest. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“How would you know what I’m thinking? Are you a mind reader now?”

She ignored his questions. “I’ll bet you’re thinking about how I talked you into going to that retreat. You know, I didn’t force you to go. You could’ve said no if you really didn’t want to do it. Besides, you need to meet some nice women.” She lowered her voice. “You need to meet a woman with some good, common sense. Maybe if you begin dating somebody, Raven Simms will finally get the message that you’re not interested in her.”

He winced. “Why did you have to bring her up? Besides, she’ll be at the retreat.”

Trina scrunched her eyebrows, her mouth dropping open. “Why would
she
be there?”

“Because she wants to be there, I guess.”

Raven Simms had recently started coming to his church, and she’d been hanging around, latching herself onto him whenever she got the chance. Tall, beautiful, and slim, she’d been a subject of discussion among some of the men in the congregation. Raven was the most arrogant woman he’d ever met, and Martin didn’t trust her. She’d gotten so aggressive that when he’d found out that she’d be at the retreat, he’d planned on speaking with her about her unsavory behavior.

“Well, that woman is bad news. You better watch yourself around her.”

He didn’t need Trina to tell him to be careful. He’d even overheard some of the people in the singles group state that they thought he was dating Raven. He shook his head. He needed to nip those rumors before they got out of hand. People sure got some strange ideas. He’d only seen Raven four times, and he was usually with the singles’ group when they were together. He pulled out his cell phone and checked the time. In a few minutes, they’d need to break down the tables and dispense the small bags of toiletries to the homeless folks before driving the van back to the church.

A few hours after that, he’d be leaving to take the two-hour drive to The Chesapeake Bay Christian Resort for the singles retreat. Prayerfully, his conversation with Raven would go smoothly, and she’d finally understand that he was
not
interested in her.

*

Rhea drove her car into the lot of the Chesapeake Bay Christian resort, cutting the ignition. The scents of fried chicken and potatoes filled the air, making her mouth water. She exited her vehicle, removing her luggage from the trunk.

Her stomach had been in an upheaval all day, dreading this moment. She’d even gone for an early morning jog to calm her nerves, but the exercise didn’t appease her anxiety. After her run, she’d called Stan’s sister, Mary, about setting up a job interview at her employment agency. Cringing, thoughts about Raven’s imminent loan hovered in her mind like a lump of stale dough. She
hated
to borrow money from her sister, so, she needed to come up with an alternate plan, just in case Raven changed her mind, which was why she’d called her sister-in-law.

She’d never gotten along with Mary. Stan’s sister had never accepted her brother marrying an African-American woman who was ten years his junior. But, Mary was a good business woman and her agency had thrived. Hopefully, she’d be able to find a temporary job to get some more cash to help with her bills. Their short, stilted conversation had been business-like, and Mary had agreed for her to come the following Monday.

After speaking with Mary, she’d skipped breakfast and lunch, spending most of the day with Candy, showing her things that needed to be done since she’d be in charge of the bakery for the next couple of days.

Raven would not give her the loan until
after
the retreat. How was she supposed to have a good time? She’d be spending most of her days worrying about old Leonard lurking outside her apartment, using his master key to unlock her door. She could imagine him throwing her stuff onto the street, changing the locks, leaving her homeless.

She pushed the ugly thoughts of her landlord out of her mind, determined to endure the next couple of days. If she concentrated hard enough, maybe she could forget her bakery, her financial troubles, and her grief, and have a good time. No way was that ever going to happen. She couldn’t imagine herself letting loose, laughing while mingling with others.

Approaching the main building, she stopped at a bench, sat, bowed her head, and closed her eyes.
Lord, I feel burdened. Did I do the right thing, accepting Raven’s loan offer? Please help me during this retreat, and please be with Raven as she heals. My sister almost died the last time she was in the hospital. Lord, please show me what I can do to help her. Amen.

She stood, pulling her suitcase behind her, entering the main building. After checking in and getting her room key, she pulled her wheeled suitcase on the sidewalk, glanced around the resort, still sniffing the wonderful-smelling food. Her stomach again growled with hunger.

Rustic, cabin-styled buildings dotted the large resort. Pansies, marigolds, and roses bloomed from sectional flower gardens. She stopped at a bush bursting with vivid yellow roses. Placing her nose in front of the bush she sniffed, relishing the sweet scent of the blossoms.

Strong memories swept into her mind, and she closed her eyes recalling sitting in the backyard with Stan. The church parish where they’d lived held a profusion of rose bushes. How she missed those roses! Stan would clip a rose from a bush, presenting it to her, again telling her how much he loved her. He’d then kiss her, his blond hair gleaming in the weakening sunlight.

Opening her eyes, she gasped, blinking. Salty wetness slid down her cheek. A woman walked by, gawking at her. Why couldn’t she let her pain go? Why did she keep remembering Stan and the deep love they’d shared?
Oh, Lord, please help me with this pain.

Walking slowly, still pulling her suitcase, she arrived at her cabin. After wiping her face, she took a deep breath and unlocked the door, pushing it open.

Two women sat on the bed, their heads bent over a piece of paper, talking softly. Both of them glanced at Rhea. The one sitting closest to the wall glared at Rhea before pushing the paper into her Bible. She stood up from the bed, placing her Bible into a drawer, slamming it shut. Strange.

“Hi, I’m Rhea.”

The striking woman, who’d just slammed the drawer, glanced at Rhea and frowned. “I’m Zora.” She then walked over to her dresser and pulled her hair back into a tight bun.

“I’m Desiree,” said the short, chunky, dark-skinned woman who still sat on the bed. She stood up, giving Rhea a warm smile and offering her hand. Rhea shook her hand, assessing the room.

The tangy scents of lemon oil and pine filled the space and three twin beds rested against the wall. Charming, multi-colored quilts covered the mattresses and a crystal vase, holding one yellow rose, sat in the middle of the wooden coffee table.

Rhea hoisted her suitcase onto the bed.

“So, where are you from, Rhea?” Desiree asked.

Rhea eyed Zora, who continued to stare at her own reflection in the mirror. “I live in a small town called Maple Grove. I own a bakery—”

“Why are you here?” Zora interrupted.

Rhea glared at her. “Excuse me?”

“Why’d you come to this retreat?”

“What do you mean?” There was no reason for her to explain why she was there. “I’ve been going through a lot lately. I need some time to think and this resort is pretty. It looks like a wonderful place to spend time reflecting about God.” At least that was the truth—her faith had practically disappeared after Stan’s violent death.

Zora slicked lipstick over her lips, placing the cap back onto the lipstick holder. “At these singles retreats, most people have an agenda. They’re not just here to strengthen their relationship with God. That’s a bunch of bull.”

Rhea narrowed her eyes, assessing Zora. The woman could easily pass for a high-fashion model. Zora removed a bottle of perfume from her dresser, opening it. She spritzed perfume over her arms and neck, and Rhea coughed, wrinkling her nose. “Why are
you
here, Zora?”

“I’m here to find a husband.”

Rhea resisted the urge to scoff, still trying not to gag on the odorous perfume. Zora and Raven could probably have been good friends—they shared the same agenda. “I think there’s plenty of time to socialize at the meet-and-greet sessions.”

Zora folded her thin arms, giving Rhea a shrewd look. “Meet-and-greet sessions? I don’t need any meet–and-greet sessions. I already know who I’m after and nothing’s going to get in my way.”

Desiree walked over to Zora, patting her shoulder. “Zora, calm down.” She glanced at Rhea. “You’ll have to forgive the way she acts. I’ve never seen a twenty-one-year-old woman so anxious to find a husband.”

Zora flung Desiree’s arm from her shoulder, stomping her foot. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”

Desiree ignored the outburst, again patting Zora’s shoulder. “Have you taken your medicine today?”

Rhea cringed, closing her suitcase. Did she have to room with this highly emotional woman during the entire retreat? Her stomach growled, and she checked her watch. When she’d checked in, the front desk staff had told her that dinner would be served soon, and she needed to try and find Martin in the cafeteria.