The Runaway Pastor's Wife (34 page)

“Leave it down. I always liked it down.”

She stopped, her hand in mid-air, then let the
brown trusses fall back down. She dropped her head, unable to look at him.
“Michael, please. Don’t.”

“It’s not like we’re strangers,” he spoke barely
above a whisper. “Why won’t you talk to me? Why won’t you tell me what you’re
doing up here, all alone on this mountain?”

She sniffed, rubbing her face with her hand.

He reached again, grasping her hand firmly in
his. “I’ve told you everything.
Everything
. It never crossed my mind to
lie to you about what happened to me. After all these years, I never even
questioned trusting you. I knew I could. I haven’t seen you or talked to you
in, what—fifteen, sixteen years or so? Yet I knew in a heartbeat I could still
trust you. So what is it? You’re obviously upset about something. Why can’t you
talk to me?”

Annie unwrapped herself from the quilts and
stood up. She hobbled over to the fire, occupying herself by stoking it. “Look,
it isn’t that easy. You make it sound like it’s perfectly all right for me to
cry all over your shoulder when I don’t even really
know
you any more.
Sure, I used to see you play ball on television sometimes. And I read all about
your big wedding—” She stopped suddenly and turned around. “I’m sorry. I didn’t
mean—”

“It’s all right. Go on. What are you getting
at?”

She put down the poker and sat down on the
hearth. “Michael, it’s just been too long. You’ve led your life and I’ve led
mine. We live in two totally different worlds. You would have absolutely no
idea about the kind of life I lead. Not a clue. It would be like speaking a
foreign language, and I wouldn’t begin to know how to translate it for you.”

“You make it sound like you’re living on Mars!
C’mon, Annie. So we’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Big deal. You’re the one
who told me we’ve got nothing but time here. And besides—” he paused, straining
to sit up.

She rushed to his side. “Don’t do that. You’ll
only make it worse. If you want to sit up, just ask for help.” She propped the
pillows behind him, lifting him to a more comfortable position.

He grabbed her arm and gently pushed her in the
direction of her chair. “Sit.”

She slowly obeyed. “Besides what?”

“Besides, there once was a time we shared everything,
remember? And I do mean everything.”

Her eyes met his and neither of them looked
away. He watched her, knowing the same thoughts were trailing through her mind
that were everywhere in his. The memories swirled through the air between them
like the raging wind outside. They had shared so much. Theirs had been such a
storybook romance. An unforgettable passion.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Annie.”

The gentle ticking of the grandfather clock
marked the minutes that passed between them. When Michael closed his eyes at
her long silence, Annie assumed he had drifted back to sleep. She stared into
the fire, fighting the unspoken pull of her heart. That irresistible warmth
invading her senses, filling her with an overpowering desire to crawl back into
all those romantic memories.

It would be so easy. He was here. She was here.
Far away from everything and everyone who had caused her so much frustration.
It would be so nice. To be finally free of all the hurts and agonizing
questions. Free from the heartache of God’s continuous silence. To just let go.

She turned to find him watching her, the desire
in his eyes so familiar.

“No, Michael.”

“No what?”

“No.”

She stood quietly and left the room.

CHAPTER 22

Seminole,
Florida

Max walked into the kitchen just as the
answering machine beeped and the red light began flashing. Ignoring it, he
poured a glass of orange juice then opened the back door to let Snickers out.
The cool morning air awoke his senses, reminding him how little he’d slept last
night. His mind wouldn’t unplug from the urgency of finding his mother. It
consumed him, robbing the rest he craved. A thousand different ideas had
flooded his mind.

He had finally given up any efforts to sleep and
got up to take a shower. The rest of the house was still quiet. Noticing the
flashing red light on the answering machine, he remembered Megan’s promise to
call with information from
Denton
. He pressed the button to
replay the messages.

“David, Caroline—this is Sally. I know I’m
calling awfully early. Let’s see, my clock says
6:08
, but I
just opened today’s newspaper. If you haven’t seen it yet, you’d better take a
look. I think the dam just broke. Please call me. I want to help with flood
control.”

As he listened to the message from his father’s
secretary, the knot in his stomach cinched. He hurried to the front door, threw
it open and searched for the paper on the lawn. Peeling off the wrapper, he
walked back toward the house, stopping mid-step as he opened the paper.

The headline appeared in bold, black letters:

LOCAL PASTOR’S WIFE MISSING

Even before scanning the story, Max’s eyes were
drawn to the side-by-side photographs accompanying the article. He read the
caption:
Annie Franklin McGregor, 39, has been missing from her Seminole
home for four days. Her mother, Darlene Franklin Preston (right) fears foul
play.
The photograph pictured his grandmother dabbing her eyes with a
handkerchief, her expression woefully dramatic.

“Way to go, Nana. You’ve screwed up everything.
As usual.”

“You’re up pretty early, aren’t you?” his father
asked, stepping out onto the front porch. Max folded the paper, hiding it
behind him.

“Uh, yeah. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Max, why are you trying to hide the paper?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “I was hoping you
wouldn’t have to see it. But I don’t suppose there’s much hope of that, is
there?” He handed the folded copy to his father.

“What could be so bad you’d try to hide the
newspaper? Don’t tell me we missed the rapture?” He winked as he unfolded the
paper. For a moment he stood perfectly still. “Oh no. Darlene, what have you
done? No, no, no!” He crumpled the paper, then dropped his head.

“Mrs. Hampton called and left a message on the
answering machine. She wanted to warn us. Dad, why would Nana do something like
this?”

Something snapped. Max saw his father’s wall of
defense come crashing down. “Because she’s nothing but a know-it-all busybody,
Max! And there isn’t
anything
on the face of this earth she wouldn’t do
to thrust her way into the center of attention—
even
at the expense of
her own daughter!”

Max looked around then hurried to guide his
father inside the house. “Take it easy, Dad! You’ll wake the neighbors!”

“I don’t care if I wake the neighbors! They need
to get up anyway so they can
read their
papers
!”

Max pushed his father into the house. Once
inside, he jerked out of his son’s grasp. “Get your hands off me, Max!”

“What did
I
do?”

“Just leave me alone! I want you and everybody
else in this stupid town to just leave me alone!” He turned and roared up the
stairs. A moment later, Max heard him slam his bedroom door.

This time, it was Max who snapped. He flew up
the stairs shouting. “Fine! Go ahead—have your own little pity party, Dad! You
aren’t the only one who’s worried about Mom, y’know!”

Caroline appeared at the top of the stairs, wrapping
her robe around her. “What on earth is going on?” Embarrassed in front of his
grandmother, Max blew out an angry grunt then hurried back down the stairs.
“Max? What happened?”

A few moments later, he heard his grandmother
enter the room as he stormed around the kitchen. She caught hold of his arm and
stopped him. “Hold it right there, young man. I asked you a question and I want
an answer. What is going on?”

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” he answered, heavy on
the sarcasm. “Dad just happened to get a good look at the front page of the
paper this morning, that’s all. Nana shot her mouth off to the press and now
the whole world knows Mom is gone.”

Caroline’s jaw dropped. “Oh, Max, no—please tell
me you’re kidding.” She drifted to a kitchen stool and took a seat. “She
didn’t—”

“Oh, yes she did. And she made
sure she
got not only Mom’s picture plastered across it, but hers as well. No great
surprise there, now is it?”

“Where’s the paper? I want to see it.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to pry it out of Dad’s
hands. Look, Gran, it’s not
my
fault Nana did this! But obviously Dad
wants to blame me for it. You should’ve seen him! I didn’t sleep one minute
last night worrying about Mom! And
this
is what I get for being
concerned?” Max grabbed his keys and opened the back door. “I’m outta here.”

Just then, Snickers skipped inside. She barked
playfully to remind him of her presence. “Get out of my way!” He shoved the pup
out of the way with his foot. Snickers yelped as she skidded across the tiled
floor. Max felt a fleeting moment of remorse. But as he turned to kneel beside
the pitiful puppy, he was knocked off his feet with a head-butt from his
younger brother.

“What’s the matter with you?” Jeremy screamed,
wrestling with his brother. “Why’d you kick her? Are you crazy? Why don’t you
just leave! Go away and don’t ever come back!” He reached for the whimpering
puppy, cradling her in his arms.

Heart racing, Max jumped up then flew out the
door.

The bells above the door at PJ’s Donut Shop
clanged like an emergency alarm as Max McGregor stormed in. Customers’ heads
turned in unison. Ignoring their stares, he stomped his way over to his usual
stool at the end of the counter. He snatched a napkin out of the dispenser,
wiping the perspiration off his forehead. Suddenly looking up, he noticed
everyone frozen in place, their eyes fixed on him.

“What?!” he snapped.

PJ appeared from the back, wiping his hands on a
dish towel. “Max! You gonna break my door if you keep that up!” he scolded, his
thick Polish accent graveled with age. “What’s the matter you?”

Max tried to relax. He tossed the crumbled
napkin in the trash. “Sorry, PJ.”

“Whatcha’ mean ‘sorry, PJ’? I never see you so
upset. You have a fight with dat girlfriend of yours?”

“No.” He avoided the old man’s probing eyes.

PJ threw the towel on his work station and
shuffled around the counter. He sat down beside Max and draped his arm over his
shoulders.

He lowered his voice. “Now, you tell me, Max
McGregor, what’s got you so mad?”

Max could smell coffee on his breath. PJ leaned
a little closer. “I seen dat newspaper this morning.”

Max dropped his head in his hands. Had
everyone
seen it? His eyes stung. “PJ, what am I gonna do?”