For the Love of God (11 page)

“What did she say?” she murmured.

“Isabel apologized for rushing you about the manuscript and hoped you weren’t too exhausted by all the typing you’ve done for them.” Seth relayed the message. “She thought the outing was an excellent idea.”

Abbie turned away to put the box of cereal in the cupboard. “But didn’t she …” She didn’t finish the question, concerned that she might be too sensitive and guilty of overreacting.

“… didn’t she think it strange that I answered the phone?” Seth completed the sentence, almost verbatim to what was in her mind. “Why should she?” he countered evenly when Abbie turned with a guilty start. “It’s normal for a minister to call on members of his congregation in their homes.”

“Yes, but …” She couldn’t finish that sentence either.

“… but you are a young and very attractive single woman.” Again Seth accurately guessed the rest of it. “And I’m a bachelor.”

“Something like that, yes,” Abbie admitted.

“As romantically inclined as those two spinster sisters are, I’d guess they’re tittering with the possibility a romance is developing between
us.” A suppressed smile deepened the corners of his mouth as he met her startled look.

“Oh.” This small response was all she could manage, since he had confirmed exactly what she had guessed they’d be thinking.

“We lunched together, had pizza one evening, and now we’re going on a picnic together,” Seth reminded her. “It isn’t unlikely that an outsider would jump to that conclusion.”

“I know.” Abbie nodded.

With calm deliberation, Seth walked around the counter-bar and took the sack of sugar out of her hands, setting it on the countertop. Her protest died when his hands moved over the bareness of her upper arms with caressing ease.

“Why bother to deny it?” Seth challenged softly while he looked deeply into her eyes. A shiver of sensations slivered through her veins. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

“I—suppose.” The whispered admission was hesitant; she was wary of declaring too openly the feelings that were growing stronger with each meeting.

He tipped his head to one side, bronze lights darkening his hair. The expression on his roughly carved features mildly taunted her for her cautious reply, while his hands continued their slow, lazy kneading of her arms.

“You don’t sound too sure,” he said. “If this isn’t the start of a romance, what else would you call it?”

“I don’t know,” Abbie admitted with an uncertain smile.

“What’s the matter?” Seth asked. “Why does it bother you to admit it?”

“I guess I’m not used to being so candid,” she suggested, then deliberately tried to sidetrack the conversation. “How did the Coltrain sisters find out that you knew about their manuscript?”

The faintly mocking glitter in his eyes informed her that Seth knew why she was changing the subject. “They invited me to dinner Tuesday night. I mentioned that we had been together the previous night and that I’d read a couple pages of the manuscript you were typing without revealing that I had recognized their handwriting,” he explained. “They were so eager to find out my reaction that they confessed they had written it and asked what I thought.” His smile became more pronounced. “So they don’t think that you betrayed their secret.”

“I wondered,” she acknowledged.

“I also promised them I’d write a letter to some friends of mine in the publishing business and see what I could do to help them when it’s finished.” He let his hands come away from her arms and turned to look in the grocery sack. “Is there anything else in here that’s perishable?”

“No, I’ve already put those items away.” There were only some canned goods left.

“Then, let’s leave the rest and go on our picnic,” he stated.

“Okay.” Abbie had the feeling she would agree to almost anything he suggested.

Within minutes after leaving town, Seth turned off the main highway onto a graveled county road that twisted along the ridges and hollows. Abbie was completely lost, having no idea where they were going. She’d never done that much exploring of the countryside to be familiar with all the hill roads.

The August heat had seared the grasses a golden brown to intersperse the thickly forested hills with patches of bright color. Abbie turned her face into the blowing force of the wind generated by the sports car, kicking up plumes of dust on the graveled road.

An azure sky contained a scattering of powder-puff clouds, drifting slowly while the golden sun-ball blazed above the earth with its light. Overhead, a hawk circled, floating effortlessly on the air currents. They were riding on a ridgeback, the Ozark Mountains undulating into the distance like ocean waves.

There was a change in the powerful hum of the engine as Seth eased the pressure on the accelerator slowing the car. A fairly straight stretch of road lay before them with no roads branching off it. All Abbie could see was a short lane leading to the gate of a fenced field, but it appeared to be Seth’s destination as he braked the car to a slower speed to make the turn onto it. When the car was stopped, he switched off the
engine, removing the sunglasses he’d been wearing.

“This is it,” he said with a glance at Abbie while he pushed his door open to step out.

Abbie looked at the gate and the sign tacked on the post that very plainly read: PRIVATE PROPERTY—Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted. “We aren’t going into that field, are we?” She climbed out of the passenger side, but eyed Seth with a bewildered frown.

The nearly bald knoll had only a scattering of tall oak trees to shade its yellow grasses. There didn’t appear to be any animals grazing in the hill meadow, but the sign on the fence was very definite.

“Wait until you see the view,” Seth replied after he had issued an affirmative nod. He reached behind the driver’s seat and lifted out a wicker picnic basket. “Do you think you can carry this?”

“But there’s a no-trespassing sign on the gate,” Abbie pointed out as she took the basket from him and hooked her forearm under the handles. “We can’t go in there.”

“Yes, we can.” Seth removed a Styrofoam cooler from the car’s trunk and started walking to the gate. “This land belongs to my family.”

“Your family,” Abbie repeated with surprise. “I didn’t know you had any relation living around here.”

“I don’t.” He stopped at the gate and set the cooler on the ground. There was a padlock on the
chain that circled the fence and gatepost. With a key from his pocket, Seth unlocked it and unwrapped the chain to let the gate sag open. “It’s a case of absentee ownership, an investment for possible development or resale in the future.”

“Oh.” But Abbie didn’t feel that she knew any more despite the enlightening remark.

“Careful you don’t trip on the wire,” Seth cautioned as she started to walk through the narrow opening. “I don’t want to be responsible for causing a personal injury lawsuit.”

It was said in jest but Abbie just wondered all the more. As she went through the gate she was close enough to read the small lettering at the bottom of the sign. The owner was identified as the Tal-bar Corporation. “The Tal-bar Corporation belongs to your family?” she asked when Seth followed her, leaving the gate open behind him.

“Yes. It’s a combination of Talbot and Barlow. Barlow was my grandmother’s maiden name, and her brother was one of the original partners with my grandfather,” he explained. “I thought we’d have our picnic under that oak tree over there.” Seth indicated the closest one with a nod of his head.

“Is it a big company?” Abbie suspected it was, since it had landholdings in the Ozarks.

“For a family-owned company, I’d say it’s fairly large, but it’s certainly not a major national corporation.” There was a dry amusement in his tone

“I guess your family mentioned they owned some land here when you were assigned to our church,” Abbie guessed.

“Actually I was here a few years when we originally bought this property, so I was a little familiar with the area before I obtained my transfer.”

“You aren’t active in your family’s company, are you?” Abbie frowned, automatically stopping under the tree when Seth did. She didn’t see how it was possible when he was a minister. Yet his remark about looking at the property seemed to indicate otherwise.

“My father insists that I remain on the board of directors to act as their conscience,” Seth admitted as he crouched down to set the cooler next to the tree. “There’s a small blanket in your basket. We can spread it on the ground.”

While she digested the information, Abbie opened the lid of the wicker basket and took out the square blanket lying on top of the plastic dishes. She shook it out and laid it out flat on the grass-stubbled ground. Kneeling on it, she began taking the dishes and utensils out of the basket. “I know it’s none of my business …” But she couldn’t help prying a little more into his personal affairs. “… but I have the feeling your father would have preferred that you had joined the company. …”

“Instead of becoming a minister?” Seth completed what she had left unsaid. There was a light shrug of his shoulders as he began taking
out containers of assorted salads. “In the beginning, he was against the idea—until he was convinced that it was definitely what I wanted. I’ve had his full support and his blessing for several years now—as well as from the rest of my family.”

She was glad that Seth’s chosen profession had not created any friction between him and his family, but it sounded too trite to say so. The removal of the napkins and the salt and pepper shakers emptied the picnic basket. Abbie sat in the grass out of the way.

“We have here a private buffet.” Seth indicated the various uncovered containers arranged in a semicircle on the blanket. “Macaroni salad, potato salad, ambrosia, tomato aspic, cold roast chicken, ham, fresh fruit, cheese. There’s a couple things that I don’t know what they’re called.”

Abbie stared at the array of food. “You don’t expect us to eat all this?”

There was a wicked glint in his eye. “To tell you the truth, it was the quickest way to clean out my refrigerator. The ladies in the community have been more than generous about bringing me samples of their cooking.”

“Maybe they thought it was the way to win the favor of a bachelor minister,” Abbie suggested with a hint of a teasing smile.

“‘The way to a man’s heart…’” Seth followed her thinking and chuckled. “Unfortunately, they couldn’t know that I had already
been tempted by a copper-haired girl on the road, who gave me fruit.” He paused a second to hold Abbie’s glance. “There are some who believe that it was the peach, not the apple, Adam and Eve ate in the Garden of Eden.”

“Really,” she murmured, a little unnerved by the sensuality of his look, so vibrant and alive with his male interest in her.

“Yes, really,” he mocked, and turned to reach inside the cooler. “Don’t you think you have what it takes to tempt me into sin?”

“Are you sure it’s not the other way around?” Abbie countered, matching his sexual banter and not letting him see how much it disturbed her.

There was a heartiness to his throaty chuckle. “I deserved that. You know the right way to put a man in his place, don’t you, Abbie?” Seth didn’t appear to expect an answer as he took a bottle of chilled wine from the cooler. “Now, this happens to come from my own private stock. It’s not a gift from anyone.”

Abbie looked at him askance. “Are you allowed to drink wine?”

There was patience in his strong face as he uncorked the bottle and splashed a small portion of wine in two glasses. “In the Book of Matthew, Jesus explains in chapter fifteen that it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles man, but what comes out of his mouth. ‘Whatever goes into the mouth passes into the stomach, and so passes on, but what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart….’” he paused. “Anything
in excess is not good for the body—sweets, fats, or alcohol.”

“That’s true,” she agreed, taking the glass he handed her.

“In biblical times, they drank wine with their meals because the water wasn’t potable, for the most part,” he added. “It was the fruit of the vine that Jesus gave to his disciples at the Last Supper. That’s hardly a justification for the consumption of alcohol. But there’s a vast difference between drinking and having an occasional glass of wine with a meal.”

“I agree.” Abbie swirled the rose-red liquid in her glass. “I wasn’t really criticizing you for bringing the wine.”

“Weren’t you?” It was a mild accusation.

“No, although it probably sounded like it,” she admitted with a rueful laugh.

“Sometimes I get the feeling you are more pious than I am,” Seth mocked. “No deviating from the straight and narrow.”

“I’ve never been very well acquainted with a minister—on a personal basis.” Abbie defended some of her preconceived notions. “So I don’t always know what to expect.”

“I have noticed.” He nodded, a faint smile touching the corners of his mouth. “Right now, you’re wondering if I’m going to say a blessing before we eat.”

“I was,” Abbie admitted on a note of bubbling laughter.

When Seth bowed his head, Abbie did, too. “We thank you, O Lord, for this bounty You have
placed before us. And we pray that You will also feed the hunger of our hearts with the Grace of Your Love. Amen.”

“Amen,” she echoed softly, and lifted her head to glance at him in silent wonder, touched by the simple blessing.

“Shall we dig in?” Seth murmured, arching an eyebrow in her direction, and passed her the small bowl of potato salad.

Although Abbie had only taken a small sample of everything, there had been too many dishes. There was still some food left in her plate, but she didn’t have room for another bite.

“I think it’s a case of my eyes being bigger than my stomach.” She sighed and set her fork on the plate.

“There’s a lot of wildlife around here that will eat it, so it won’t go to waste.” Seth rolled to his feet. “If you’re finished, I’ll scrape your plate on that stump so the scraps won’t be attracting the flies around us.”

“I am finished.” Abbie handed him the plate.

While he walked to the tree stump about twenty yards away, she started putting the lids on the containers and returning them to the cooler so they wouldn’t spoil. When Seth came back, he lent a hand, stowing the dishes and silverware in the wicker basket. Once the blanket was cleared and shaken free of any crumbs, Abbie shifted to sit near the middle of it,
leaning on her hands and stretching her legs out to ease the fullness of her stomach. Before she could guess his intention, Seth was lying down at right angles to her, with his head resting on her lap.