Breathless (6 page)

“He happened to stop by after hearing about the picture.” Sheryl tilted her head a bit to the side. Lydia remained silent, so she continued. “He made a point of coming by to check on you.”

“It's no big deal. He did what most pastors would do. He visited a member of his congregation who's having a problem,” Lydia explained. “Riley told him what happened at Justin's grave.”

“It seems she's the only parishioner he's visited since he took over the church.” Sheryl beamed.

“Not once either. Twice.” Warren piped in.

“And I'm not aware of him walking one other person out to their car.” Sheryl added with a large grin.

“Knock it off you two. It doesn't mean a thing.” Lydia struggled to hide the smile working its way over her lips.

“Oh my.” Sheryl rose. “You like him too.”

“If you continue, you'll make her crimson.” Warren gave a quick eye roll.

“Lydia, it's great you like him. After all, he's a nice man, awesome looking, obviously very caring. And boy, what a bod!”

“Sheryl!” Lydia might have been thinking the same thing, but she wasn't about to say it out loud.

“What? He does.”

“Is it blasphemy to say a preacher has a nice body?” Warren cracked in.

They paused, looking at each other before laughter erupted. Sheryl returned to the stool next to Warren.

“So admit it,” Sheryl said. “You're attracted to him. And he to you.”

“But whenever I'm near him I feel like I'm cheating on Justin.” Lydia turned and glanced out the kitchen window. The pink flowers in the endless summer hydrangea were blooming. A lump rose in her throat. Justin had planted them shortly after they moved in.

“It's not cheating. Justin's been gone a long time. You've got to move on.” Sheryl joined Lydia as they stared out the window. “And I have a feeling he and Matthew would have gotten on well.”

“But talking about Matthew, in this house, in
our
house, it doesn't seem fitting.” Lydia ran her palm along the kitchen counter. “He refinished this kitchen himself, with his sweat and hard work.”

“Now you stop that.” Sheryl pulled Lydia around and took her hands in her own. “This is your house, too.” Sheryl wiped at a tear on Lydia's cheek. “This has nothing to do with you, with Justin, or with Matthew. This has to do with some weirdo out there trying to make you feel bad.”

“It's working,” Lydia whispered.

 

****

 

“It's him, again,” Phyllis said.

Matthew had barely taken a step inside the church. He knew the “him” Phyllis spoke of was James Newman, III, who'd called several times regarding his son, Jimmy. A couple of appointments had been set for Matthew to meet with him, and so far Jimmy had avoided every one.

“Let me guess, you forgot to turn your cell on again?” Phyllis let out a sigh. “I wish I could forget to turn on these phones sometimes.”

“Could be a mistake.” Matthew grinned. “Or at the very least a Freudian slip.”

Matthew liked Phyllis Baker quite a bit. As he stood before her, he recalled how, on his first day, she told him exactly what he could expect from her.

“During football season, I will not be available for any Fridays or Saturdays the Georgia Bulldogs play a home game,” she said. “My husband and I tailgate, and since neither one of us really needs to work, we don't allow it to interfere.”

Her voice brought him back to the present.

“It's funny you seem to forget that phone when James Newman is trying to reach you,” Phyllis yelled as Matthew strolled into his office. “Or it is because you were visiting Lydia Frederickson?”

“Hello, James. How are you today?” Matthew felt warmth rise into his cheeks. He did turn off his cell before entering Lydia's. He tried to convince himself it was so he wouldn't be rude by having a telephone ring while he checked on her. His real reason was his desire to keep distractions to a minimum, and he just
chose
to ignore James's calls whether with Lydia or elsewhere.

“I've called several times.” James's irritation became evident as he spoke. “Everyone is aware of you being at Lydia Frederickson's house after it was barely light out. As a reminder, you're on a ninety-day trial period. Spending more time working and not chasing our local widows would be a smarter move.”

“I'm not chasing Ms. Frederickson. And so far, you're the only person complaining.” Matthew looked toward the ceiling.
Why is patience a virtue God, when slamming down a telephone should be?
“I assume your call isn't to lecture me about my visitation. What can I do for you?”

“It's Jimmy. He feels up to stopping by today.”

“Tell him I have a two o'clock available.” Matthew believed Jimmy only told his father he'd come to counseling to appease him. By two, his tune would change.

“He should probably have an appointment for Monday, too.”

“I'm afraid I'm out of the office on Mondays.” Matthew flipped a page on his calendar. “I'm clear all day Tuesday though.”

“I forgot you take Mondays off.” Hesitation lingered on the line. “As a new minister, I'm not sure dictating your days off is a good idea.”

“I got approval from the committee when I was asked to lead the church. No one else seems bothered by it.” From the start, Matthew had been fully aware he wasn't James's pick as the new minister. When the other committee members voted him in, James had no choice but to tolerate their decision. His tolerance appeared to be ending.

“I'll inform Jimmy about today. You can discuss Tuesday when he's there.” James hung up without another word.

Dealing with Jimmy reminded Matthew of his days with the DEA. He knew Jimmy would never recover from his drug addiction unless he worked at quitting. He needed counseling, or it was only a matter of time until he fell into his old habits, if he hadn't already.

The vision of Charlie Westerman flashed into Matthew's mind. His heart pounded against his ribcage at the memory of Charlie lying dead beside his motorcycle.

Was James aware Matthew was responsible for Charlie's death? James had made it clear he didn't want Matthew as the pastor. If he knew, wouldn't he make certain of telling Lydia?

Matthew ran a hand down his face. He knew he had no choice. He had to tell her himself.

He rose and walked into the sanctuary. Taking a seat in the first pew, he stared up at the cross.

“God, the Bible says you never give us more than we can handle. I really need you to help me with the right words to tell Lydia how her brother died without causing her further pain.” Matthew leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs and listened. He heard nothing but silence.

 

 

 

 

 

6

 

“Here we are.” Matthew pulled into the space marked “Guest Parking.” A slight breeze blew his hair when he opened the door to the car.

It had been a little over three weeks since Matthew arrived in Lincolnville. He and his father had spent one day a week visiting assisted living facilities. His dad didn't require twenty-four hour supervision, but Matthew wanted him in a place where someone could check up on him daily.

Currently his father resided with Brenda, but she already carried a full load with two kids. Matthew's apartment at Anna's Boarding House wasn't very large, or he would bring him to Lincolnville. A nearby pastor recommended Shady Gardens in Chattanooga.

The three story facility was quite large, surrounded by perfectly aligned hedges. A brick walkway stretched to the large white double-hung doors. Elderly people sat in rocking chairs on the front porch, watching others play croquet in the side yard. The outside was impressive with its large oak trees, but Matthew knew looks could be deceiving. The quality of care was what mattered most.

“It doesn't look too bad.” His dad climbed from the car. “Pretty nicely shaded. It could do.”

“Let's take a look inside.” Matthew's father didn't want to burden his family, but Matthew wasn't going to rush into a living arrangement, and have his dad not receive the quality of care the man deserved.

They met with the administrator, Claudia Hugestein, at the front desk. She extended her thin fingers to Matthew's father. Matthew presumed the tall woman to be in her mid-fifties. Her green eyes gave her no stand-out features, unlike Lydia's violet eyes which carried in his thoughts day and night. He had only seen her sporadically the last couple of weeks. With each occurrence, his heart would beat out a rhythm he was unfamiliar with. Yet she appeared to avoid him with every close encounter, indicating to him she had little desire to be with him. That was probably a good thing with the secret of her brother's death hanging between them.

“This is our game room,” Ms. Hugestein said. Two men glanced up from the cards in their hands and nodded. “Our cook has yet to have a complaint, and she can fix your meal with any special medical requests needed.” The cafeteria carried a slight odor of meatloaf.

“I don't require anything special,” his dad said.

Matthew glanced around. Comfort rose when they entered the library and several Bibles stood upright on the bookcase.

As they rounded the corner toward the large screened-in porch, he felt as if he'd been gabbed by an aroma he'd become all too familiar with. The smell of gardenias enveloped him, causing the thumping in his chest to sound all the way to his ears. It's bad enough he had Lydia on his mind constantly, but she was all over his senses.

“This is one of our volunteers,” Ms. Hugestein said. “She comes by once a week to visit with our residents.”

Matthew's heart leapt into his throat as he looked into soft blue-violet eyes.

 

****

 

Lydia adjusted the footrests on Ms. Mouldune's wheelchair when it hit her. Spice, an aroma she dreamt of. She lost her balance and nearly toppled over.

“Darling, is everything all right? You look a bit flushed,” Ms. Mouldune said.

“Something crossed my mind.” Lydia did her best to calm her voice.

“I hope he was handsome.”

Ms. Mouldune patted her on her forearm. Lydia felt her cheeks heat.

“This is one of our volunteers.” Ms. Hugestein stood behind her. “She comes by once a week to visit with our residents.”

As Ms. Hugestein introduced her, Lydia bid Ms. Mouldune goodbye. Lydia's throat constricted as she saw two sets of piercing sapphire blue eyes. The older gentleman clearly had to be Matthew's father.

Osteoporosis had taken its toll on the older man causing a slouch in his upper body. His shoulders drooped forward, and the hump-like curve of his back told of his age.

“Lydia, this is Pastor Matthew Winters and his father, George. Mr. Winters is considering joining our little group here.”

“I've already met Matthew. He's our new minister. However, it's nice to meet you, Mr. Winters.”

Lydia shook hands with Matthew's father. He accepted with frail, silk fingers. He had the same strong jaw as his son, and she imagined years earlier, the same dark hair color. Still attractive, the grayness of the hair and his wrinkles gave him a more distinguished look with his advanced age.

“Son, you better call the funeral parlor.” Mr. Winters chuckled. “I must have died because I've met an angel of God's.”

“Don't let the persona fool you.” Lydia leaned closer to the older man. “There are horns holding up this halo.”

“You volunteer here every week?” Mr. Winters smiled.

“I try my best,” Lydia said.

“Where do I sign up?” He gave her a wink. “I don't think I've ever seen such a pretty young lady. I imagine you receive plenty of trouble from the men here.”

“They usually behave themselves once I demonstrate my bite.” Lydia chomped her teeth together. “I hope your son didn't drive you over on that motorcycle of his.”

Mr. Winters gave a laugh. “No, I wouldn't be able to hold on very well.”

Lydia swallowed hard, and finally turned to Matthew. “And how are you today?”

“I'm doing fine. You?”

“Good.” Lydia bit her tongue to hide the elation she felt when Matthew took her hand in a firm handshake.

“Lydia, why don't you show Mr. Winters our garden?” Ms. Hugestein said. “This way I can speak with his son.”

“It will be my pleasure.” Lydia was glad for a moment's reprieve from Matthew. She directed Mr. Winters to the patio area. “I hope you enjoy roses, because this place is full of them.”

“If they're as pretty as you, I'll adore them.”

Lydia strolled through the garden showing Mr. Winters where seasonal flowers and vegetables were grown. After walking around the cement path in the middle of the grounds, she guided him to a nearby bench where they could sit and take in the view.

“Boy, your husband is a very lucky man.” He held up her left hand with the wedding band.

“I'm a widow,” Lydia explained.

“Oh, I'm sorry. You're too young to have gone through that.” Mr. Winters paused. “It's a hard loss to recover from, losing someone you love that much.”

“Yes, it is.” Lydia bit back tears. “It's not a feeling a person who's divorced could ever understand.”

“No. No it isn't.”

He shook his head. The old man's gaze held a faraway look. It was the same one Lydia had when she recalled her time with Justin.

“Will there be a time when it won't hurt so much?” She hoped the subject wasn't too painful.

“Yes. After a while all you remember are the pleasant things.”

Lydia couldn't wait until that day finally arrived.

“So, what do you think of our gardens, Mr. Winters?” Ms. Hugestein said as she and Matthew joined them.

“Almost as pretty as this young lady seated beside me.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” Ms. Hugestein said. “Lydia, would you care to show Pastor Winters the park while I speak to his father?”

As much as Lydia wanted to shout no, she agreed. She then led Matthew to Shady Gardens Park. She glanced over at a group of children playing on the jungle gym. Their laughter echoed in the warm air.

“Good sized park,” Matthew said, breaking the silence.

“It's two-and-a-half acres. A family in Atlanta donated all the property to the retirement center. They had a parent at Shady Gardens, and offered the park as a way to say thank you for the excellent care.” Lydia had a feeling she was rambling, but hoped it kept her emotions at bay. “Your dad's very sweet.” Lydia then added, “You have his eyes.”

“Really? I hadn't noticed.”

She stopped and looked up at him. “You're not aware of the distinct eye color you and your father share?”

“Not that I recall.”

“I'm surprised none of your girlfriends mentioned it. It's something a woman would take notice of, more so than a man.”

“He's never met any of my girlfriends. You're the first woman in my life he's ever met.”

Tenderness rushed over her as they proceeded forward. For some reason, his words uplifted her. She tried to convince herself meeting his dad was pure coincidence. After all, if she let it mean more, she would have to admit she had feelings for Matthew. Emotions she wasn't prepared to allow in yet.

 

****

 

A smile inched over Lydia as they walked. Matthew wanted to be the reason for it. It had been several days since he'd seen her but she still haunted his dreams. He prayed when they saw each other next, he'd find the right words to talk about Charlie's death. However, now, alone with her, words escaped him.

“The weather is wonderful.” She inhaled loudly. “It feels great being outside.”

“I haven't seen you out much in Lincolnville. There's a nice park I run in everyday.”

“I have my reasons for not being seen outside there.”

Matthew stopped mid-step. “I'm sorry. It has to be hard, believing you have someone watching you.”

“It's pretty evident from the phone calls. They started again a few days after receipt of the picture. I even got a new unlisted number, but it did no good. He mentions how I wore my hair while out, or talks about items I bought at the store.”

A stone lodged in the pit of Matthew's stomach. She had to be frightened whenever she left her house. The last thing she needed to hear now was how her minister killed her brother. But once they found who was stalking her, he'd find a way to tell her.

“Riley's doing the best he can to figure out who it is,” she said. “But the person is pretty technologically savvy. Apparently, he's calling through a computer link, and that's why they can't identify him. He's now phoning both my landline and my cell. And the caller ID shows a different business each time. When I dial back, a recording says it's not accepting incoming calls”

Her vulnerable demeanor appeared to be mixed with dread.

“Well, it looks like it's just you and me here, so you can enjoy yourself.”

He offered her his arm. She accepted, slipping her arm through his. A shower of warmth nestled over him when she smiled up at him. A warning inside summoned, advising him to distance himself, or he would pay the price in the end. However, he chose not to listen.

A slight breeze blew Lydia's hair into her face. When she shook her head, the strands draped across her shoulders, looking soft and delightful to touch. He longed to feel its silkiness.

They finally stopped on a small bridge overlooking a brook. The water flowed beneath, everything peaceful. Matthew pulled Lydia's hair from her face, gently caressing her cheek with his knuckles. She leaned toward his touch. As she stared at him, her expression became dreamy and inviting. He moved toward her, feeling her warm breath stroke his cheek. Not a word was spoken as they neared. Their lips traveled within seconds of meeting. A union Matthew yearned to create. Then all at once she shrank away.

“I can't. Please.” She backpedaled, her tone turned sharp. “I can't do this, not now.” Her jaw locked as she trotted off in the direction of Shady Gardens.

Matthew stood leaning against the bridge's rail, seething with frustration. What could he be thinking? Therein lay the problem, no thinking was involved. If he had been, he wouldn't have allowed his emotions to go that far. Here he stood, a minister, not some young stud out trying to pick up a babe in the park. He had to rein in his desire, and fast, before he jeopardized his walk with God.

Besides, he couldn't get involved with her without first telling her about shooting Charlie. Lydia would never want to be with a man responsible for the death of her brother.

Exhaling loudly, he trudged to the retirement home. The way she had his insides bouncing about he'd have thought he was on a trampoline. First she was warm and sweet, then she became an iceberg. He could have sworn she would allow the kiss until she flinched. How could she keep him tied in knots? The last thing he needed was some woman with a come-hither look, drawing him in, only to push him away.

Maybe he shouldn't bother with his love life right now. If his past record was any indication, a relationship with Lydia would turn out badly. She was beautiful, and before he found God he certainly would have made a play for her with the hopes of getting her into bed. However, he hadn't been physically involved with a woman since he came to Jesus. Matthew peeked at his watch to figure the exact moment.

“But who's counting?” he said out loud to himself. God and his congregation were where his focus should be. He only hoped it would be that easy.

His father waited in a rocking chair on the front porch. They sat in silence as they drove to Brenda's house. Matthew decided he would drop his father off, hop on his bike, and return to his apartment. Staying for dinner would include his sister's questions about his personal life, something he wasn't in the mood to discuss.

“You've hardly said a word since you returned from the park.” Mr. Winters looked over at his son. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes.” Matthew felt remorse immediately for his curt tone and for the lie.

“You have feelings for her. Don't you?” His father's voice held concern. “It's understandable, son. She's not only attractive, but a nice lady to boot. You could do far worse than that one.”

“It's that obvious?” Matthew exhaled and leaned against the headrest. “She's the only woman who makes me eager to see her one minute, and sorry I met her the next.”

“I believe she has feelings for you, and it scares her.” Mr. Winters continued. “You're probably the first man to really grab her attention since her husband passed away. She's got to be wondering how she can be attracted to you when the love of her life has died.”