Lakeside Sweetheart (6 page)

Would Rory do that?

No. Because for one thing, Vanessa was a grown woman now. Stronger and more assertive. No longer afraid to stand up to people.

Rory Sanderson wasn't anything like Gregory Pardue. Not at all. Thank goodness.

And yet when she came back outside, Vanessa felt a shiver moving down her spine. Was she making a mistake, getting to know the preacher?

She looked up at the sky and for the first time in years, she asked God to protect her heart. Because she didn't want to be wrong about Rory.

Chapter Six

S
he'd found a pair of old cutoff jeans and rolled them up over her knees. A sleeveless cotton blouse covered the shorts. Swallowing her trepidations, Vanessa walked the short distance to the lake's boat landing near the marina and boardwalk. The sun felt good on her skin, and the sound of seagulls flying overhead reminded her that summer was coming.

She saw Rory waiting with the two kayaks. He waved and she waved back. He had on shorts and an old T-shirt. He was much darker than her, which showed he got outside more than she did.

Not the pasty-skinned pallor she considered more minister type. But then, Rory shattered all of her notions regarding preachers. He looked as if he belonged on a California beach instead of here, standing by two kayaks and waiting on her.

“You ready for this?” he asked, sincerity in his blue eyes.

“Yes. I'll probably regret it tomorrow—sore muscles—but I need to get out and get some exercise. Moving boxes and going through closets and cabinets doesn't count as a fun way to get in shape.”

He gave her a quick once-over. “You know how to kayak, right?”

She thought she remembered. “Yes. Love it.”

He motioned her to where he had the kayaks pulled up in the shallow water by the concrete landing. “We can do this at the dock or I'll hold yours while you get in.”

“I can get in here,” she said, glancing around to make sure no one would see her if she fell headfirst into the shallow water. “Or at least I'm going to try.”

Rory took her hand while he held the bright blue kayak steady with his foot. “Okay, sit and turn.”

Vanessa tried to ignore the warmth of his fingers holding hers. He had a strong, secure grip. “Like a lady getting into a car,” she said on a nervous laugh.

“Sorta.” He grinned and held on to her while she plopped down into the low, narrow watercraft. “See, you're in.”

“Yes, now I have to get my legs in, too.” She turned forward, her water shoes intact.

Once she was settled, he handed her the paddle. Vanessa wondered how he'd manage getting inside his red kayak, but he slid in with the ease of someone who was a born athlete. She noticed his muscular arms and broad shoulders. What else would she notice about this man?

Too many things, she decided.

As they glided out onto the lake, Vanessa worked to keep up with Rory, having no doubt that he was purposely going slow to stay with her. But they laughed and talked as they paddled around the big oval body of water. The ducks and geese squawked and fussed as they glided by. People waved from the shore, some of them calling out to Rory.

Spring was in full bloom, showing off in the dappled sunlight. Azaleas lush with pink-and-white flowers clustered underneath the tall pines and old oaks. Crape myrtles along the streets were bursting with tiny blossoms that were beginning to bud in hot pink and deep purple. The old magnolias hung heavy with huge white petals. The green fronds on tall palms danced in the wind, the sound of their frenzy sending out a steady swish, swish. The whole lake smelled like a fragrant, earthy garden.

With the wind in her face and the sun warm on her skin, Vanessa relaxed and remembered the short time she'd spent here in Millbrook Lake so many years ago. Her last couple of years of high school had been spent here. Marla had been one of her friends back then.

Marla was trying to be a friend to her now.

And so was Rory.

“How you doing?” he asked as he paddled close.

“Fine.” She held her oar still and smiled over at him. “This is really nice.”

Nice. That small word, usually so boring, was fast becoming her favorite expression.

“Anytime you want to go for a spin, let me know,” he said, his eyes bright with expectation.

Vanessa nodded and wished she could feel that same hope. But she'd given up on hoping or expecting a long time ago. The best she could manage was a day-to-day positive feeling that involved her work. She'd learned to take care of herself since she'd left Millbrook Lake, and that accomplishment kept her going. Her life involved salvaging vintage clothes and items and reselling them to like-minded people. Which was odd, considering how long she'd been running from her past.

Or maybe she clung to old things so she could hang on to the little bit of good in her past. No matter. She knew what would be in her future. She'd be alone. By choice. She couldn't risk messing things up with someone the way her mother had. Over and over.

Clearing those cobwebs out of her head, she gave Rory a quick nod. “Thanks. I won't have much time, but I need to remember what a special place this is. The lake and the town—it's all like a picture book.”

He drifted closer. “Oh, it looks pretty but we're all living our lives, day by day. Reality can set in at any time. But I can't complain.”

“Are you trying to burst my bubble?” she asked, surprised that he'd made such a pointed observation. Where had Mr. Feel Good gone?

He gave her a perplexed glance. “No, not at all. But you know how it goes. This is a great place to live, no doubt about that. But it's our state of mind that adds those little nuances and warm, fuzzy feelings to our lives.”

“Oh, so we're discussing that now, are we?” She started paddling again. “My state of mind is in a constant state of turmoil.”

“I didn't mean to imply that,” he said, pulling up beside her again. “I was trying to say it had more to do with me than you. I didn't mean for it to sound so corny.”

She doubted that. He was usually so happy-go-lucky, even the ducks liked him. “And what could you possibly have to be negative about, Preacher?”

He didn't answer right away. Which made her only want to know everything about him. Finally, he said, “More than you'd realize. But you're right. I know better than to preach to someone who's been through enough already. I'm sorry.”

Since she'd never heard a negative tone in his voice before, she glanced over to check on him. He looked dejected and brooding. Different. Definitely human.

“No, I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm a little prickly these days. I know you mean well, and I should appreciate how you aren't trying to gloss over things. This isn't Disneyland, after all. I mean, look what Marla went through after her first husband died. And Alec, coming home with wounds that almost turned him into a recluse. Blain and Rikki were almost killed a few months ago. I really don't have it that bad, after all.”

“Neither do I,” he said. “Look, I want to get to know you, all preacher talk aside. I don't want to preach to you. I want to...talk to you.”

“I like talking,” she admitted. “Even when I'm down and grumpy.”

“You're grieving. Sometimes being still and listening is the best thing for that.”

“Now that is good advice,” she said with a wry smile. “Truce?”

“Truce,” he said. “I need to listen to my own advice.”

“Race you to the other side of the lake,” she said, taking off in a whirl of paddles and water. Trying to get away from the intimacy of their conversation, too.

Soon they were laughing and calling out to each other. Relieved that they'd gotten past that sticky moment, Vanessa still wondered when this sweet man had been through any kind of turmoil.

They turned back toward the landing just as the sun began to set behind the tree line. Rory hopped out first and tried to help her, but she was up and dragging her kayak close to the shore before he could make a move. When she slipped and almost went down in the muddy shallows, he took her by both hands and lifted her up, his hands moving to her elbows to steady her.

Their eyes met as she came face-to-face with him.

“Thanks,” Vanessa said, her breath leaving her body. It had been a long time since she'd felt such a buzz of awareness with a man. And their conversation out there on the lake had only added to that feeling. Something about that little dent in his armor had endeared Rory to her.

“You're welcome.” His eyes went a deep sky blue, showing her his awareness of the ripple moving over them like a current. “As I said, anytime.”

“I... I'd better get home,” she said, pulling away to steady herself. “I've still got lots to do.”

Rory tugged the kayaks away from the landing. “Okay.”

“Do you need help? I can carry one of these.”

“No. I can't make you carry these heavy things.”

“I don't mind.” She flexed her arms. “I'm not helpless, you know.”

He swept her with an appreciative look. “Yes, I've noticed that, but I've got it.” Then, he grinned. “I enjoyed having someone to tour the lake with. And to talk to.”

“Me, too.” She turned to go, feeling as if she'd done something wrong. Her abrupt nature could scare anyone away.

“Hey?”

She whirled. “Yes?”

“You're welcome to come to Youth Night if you'd like. I can always use volunteers, especially female volunteers. We get a lot of girls in, and they don't want to open up to a male minister.” He shrugged. “It's a tough gig, but we're always looking for mentors.”

Vanessa's heart started racing. She felt even more winded than she had after kayaking around the lake. “I... I'll have to think about that and let you know. I'm not sure I'll be here long enough to get involved.”

“Okay. But even attending a few meetings can make a world of difference for someone.” He gave her one of his dazzling grins. “We order pizza and sometimes watch movies.”

“Sounds like fun.” Or something she couldn't deal with.

After thanking him again, she escaped to the darkness of the house, shutting the door and leaning back against it. Closing her eyes, Vanessa wished she'd had a better answer than a stumbling, halting maybe. Could she be any more obvious?

But being around troubled teens? Did she want to live through that kind of turmoil again? Even if she wasn't the one going through it?

She'd have to really think hard on how to handle that request. With each invitation, Rory was also drawing her in more and more.

In spite of that, she liked him. A lot. But she did not like the idea of getting involved in church. At all.

“What should I do?” she asked the darkness. “What should I do?” she asked God.

She remembered when she'd been alone and frightened, with no one to talk to because she was so afraid no one would believe her. Her own mother hadn't believed her, so why would anyone else?

What if one girl out there needed a friend, someone she could trust?

It doesn't have to be me
.

But why shouldn't it be you
?

Going to the refrigerator, she found a bottle of water and opened it and took a long drink. Why not her? What else did she have to do besides go through this sad, cluttered house and then leave town once it was sold?

No commitment. Just a helping hand.

She could do this. She needed to do this.

Even if she'd vowed never to have children of her own, she might be able to help a teenager at least. Now she'd have to find the courage to take those few steps to the church doors.

* * *

Rory checked the snack table. Mr. and Mrs. Peppermon had outdone themselves tonight. The couple fostered two of the teens who attended Youth Night, and they always insisted on helping with the food, too. In spite of their tight budget and dealing with their grandchildren's busy schedules, they loved helping out at the church. Devoted. They were devoted.

Rory thanked the Lord for that.

“Hello.”

He turned to find Miss Fanny ambling into the small gathering room at the back of the church. “Hey, there. What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” she said, coy. “I made some oatmeal cookies, and I can't possibly eat all of them. Thought the kids might enjoy them.”

Rory gave her a hug. “Of course they'll love your cookies. And you can visit with them and have dinner with us since you
live
in the neighborhood.”

“I'd like that.” She grinned and glanced around. “Is your new friend coming tonight?”

“My new friend?”

“Vanessa. I've tried to catch her coming and going to introduce myself, but she's too quick for me.”

“She is a slippery little thing,” Rory retorted. “And I did invite her to come. But...she's still a bit gun-shy.”

“We can fix that by making her feel better about things.”

“Right.” Rory thought about how he'd botched that idea out on the lake the other day. He hadn't talked to Vanessa since. For oh so many reasons. “I think we should let her hang out and see how it goes.”

“Okay, I'll mind my own business,” Miss Fanny said, her pink hat full of real flowers and plastic Easter eggs. “She won't even know I'm here.”

Rory grinned and offered Miss Fanny a chair. “The kids should be arriving soon.”

Wanda Peppermon came out of the small church kitchen, carrying a huge casserole dish of lasagna, the spicy scent wafting straight toward Rory's hungry nose.

“Let me help with that,” he said, grabbing the pot holders and the dish from her. “You didn't have to cook, you know. We have a hefty pizza budget.”

“I know,” Wanda said, her salt-and-pepper hair curling against the collar of her blousy shirt. “But Kandi loves homemade lasagna, so I thought this might cheer her up. She's been in a mood all week.”

Rory searched the room. “Where is Kandi?”

“Outside, sitting on a bench. She didn't want to come tonight. I think it's got something to do with her mother's birthday. It's this week.”

Rory's heart went out to the pretty teen. Her mother died when she was ten and she never knew her daddy, so she'd been forced into the foster program. She'd resented the world for a long time now.

“Should I go and talk to her?” Rory asked Wanda.