Breathless (7 page)

“You figured all that out from the short talk you had?”

“I gathered that from the way she looked at you with a mixture of excitement and pain. Every person who's lost a spouse knows those guilt feelings. You're afraid if you go on you're not doing justice to their memory.” Mr. Winters patted his son's forearm. “Talk to her. Explain your feelings and give her some time. Most importantly pray. God and time are the two best healers there are.”

Matthew was shocked and impressed with his father's knowledge. He smiled as he recalled a quote from Mark Twain: “When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.”

“I'll think about it,” Matthew said. “Maybe I should just focus on the church.”

“Is there a problem? You've never been one to shirk away from anything, especially a woman.” Mr. Winters laughed. “Sometimes talking about it can help.”

Matthew didn't want to talk about it. He'd never told his dad about shooting an innocent man when it happened, and he sure wasn't in the mood to tell him now.

“I'm just thinking about what you said.”

Matthew measured his father's words. Something had definitely drawn him to Lydia, and he knew deep down she felt the same.

She obviously didn't know the name of the officer who shot Charlie, or she would have said something when they first met. Unless someone did some deep research, it might never come out. Could he actually keep this a secret?

 

 

 

 

 

7

 

A little before four, Lydia pulled her blue Honda Civic onto the highway. She couldn't drag her mind from the near kiss she and Matthew came close to sharing. She couldn't let that happen again. Her life had too much going on with prank phone calls and her job to become involved in a relationship. Especially with someone who had her all mixed up emotionally.

How was he able to reach out and touch her in places that hadn't been touched in a long time? They were walking and talking, carrying on a nice conversation, then in what seemed like seconds, they were close to being in each other's arms. The tone of his voice was smooth and deep. It incited feelings in her she thought died with Justin. She pulled up determination to leave the park before it was too late. She had to keep that strength next time she bumped into Matthew. It had to be loneliness causing her to be so susceptible to him whenever he was near.

After passing Ringgold, white smoke clouded her view as steam escaped from her engine.

She grasped the steering wheel to regain control. The vehicle veered to the left hand lane. She had been driving sixty but now slowed considerably. A plume of smoke blocked her view. Her grip tightened.

“Please God,” she pleaded. “Don't let me veer into oncoming traffic.”

Cars honked as she pulled to the side of the road. Her nerves jittered as she gained her composure. Popping the hood release before getting out of the car, she frowned as she examined the engine. She knew absolutely nothing about cars so the action had been pointless. She grabbed her cell and dialed the auto club. The lady on the phone told her it would be a thirty minute wait, so she returned to the car and found a book to read.

She was startled from a loud roar behind the car. Against her will, her heart stepped up its tempo. “Stop that,” she scolded as Matthew tugged his helmet off. The way her emotions acted, you would think he was a white knight. She said in a low tone, “Don't forget he's not on a white horse, and bad guys wear black in the movies.”

“What's wrong?” Matthew held the door as she pulled herself from the car.

“I have no idea. It just started smoking from the engine. I have a tow truck coming. They should be here in about …” She twisted her wrist, glancing at her watch. “About ten minutes ago.”

“Let's have a look.” Matthew removed his jacket revealing a tight long-sleeved polo shirt. The fabric stretched over his biceps as he leaned over the engine. He then sprawled on the ground, taking a look under the car.

“I'm not the best mechanic, but I'd say it's your radiator.”

Lydia scooted back to the passenger side door as far from Matthew as could be reasonable without being obvious.

“Do you have a mechanic?” Matthew hollered from the ground.

“I usually take it to the dealership in Chattanooga.”

“They'll probably be closed now. I have a brother-in-law in Ringgold who owns a shop. I'll give him a call and check whether he can be of service.”

“I appreciate that.”

Glad somewhat for Matthew's company, she proceeded to sit on a large rock between the vehicle and the motorcycle. She'd had too many butterflies earlier to eat lunch, and her stomach reminded her as it grumbled for food. White clouds floated in the blue sky. She wondered how fun they were to jump upon.

“My brother-in-law said he'll take care of it for you.” Matthew sat on the ground beside her.

“You can go on. I'll have the tow truck driver take me over to his garage.” His cologne blew into her. Lydia had hoped he'd stay, but at the same time feared him being so near.

“I'm not about to leave you out here by yourself.” Matthew reclined with his legs stretched out in front. “Besides, it'll allow us a moment to talk.”

“About what?” Lydia's stomach twisted.

Matthew focused on the highway and said, “Us.”

Lydia swallowed hard. The last thing she wanted was to have this conversation. She rolled the wedding bands between her fingers. The diamond from her engagement ring sparkled in the sun. She had to take control of her emotions. However when she caught sight of Matthew returning a glance, her heart boomed in her chest. So much for being in control.

 

****

 

Matthew hadn't realized the topic would upset her until she went pale. Dread came over him at the awareness he caused that type of reaction. Something inside cautioned him to go no further. For some reason he couldn't listen.

The sun descended behind pine trees across the highway as Matthew prayed the proper words would form to explain how he felt. Only then did he realize how unclear his own feelings were. Quick and straightforward. That'd be the best method. He breathed deep before proceeding.

“I'll make it as painless as I can.” He continued to watch cars that passed on the highway, not wanting anything in her demeanor to distract him. “I have feelings for you. I'm not quite sure what they are yet, but I know they're there. Whenever I see you, even just a glimpse, a nervous feeling comes over me. It's as if my heart's about to burst from my chest because it's pounding so hard. I'm having a tough time getting you off my mind.”

He squinted in her direction, trying to glean a reading on her, wondering what effect his words were having. He couldn't tell. She just kept twisting her rings.

“It doesn't make sense why I feel this way. We met only a short time ago.” Matthew returned his gaze to the highway. “I can't recall having these feelings before, so I'm pretty secure in the fact it's not hormones. At least not only hormones.” He glanced back at her.

Lydia's lips went into a small grin. “I've never met a minister who talked about hormones.”

“We all have them. Kind of silly not to bring them up if they're affecting us, especially to God and the person causing them to bounce like a ball in a pinball machine.” Matthew stood. “I have no intention of pressuring you. I'm talking about becoming better acquainted. We might realize we're meant to be no more than friends.”

Lydia remained silent as she stared down at her rings.

He shrugged. “That's my say. I'm not sure what to do with it, but there it is.” Pressure that had been evident for days released itself from his insides. With any luck, she'd say she wasn't interested and it would end here.

“I'm having feelings for you too,” Lydia said. “The biggest problem is I feel I'm betraying Justin.”

His heart skipped a beat at her words. However elation was short lived. If she ever found out he killed her brother, it would end any type of relationship he could ever hope for. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke.

“That's natural. We'll have to work through it. Take things slow.” Why did he not tell her to call when she was ready? He was acting like a blind man about to walk off a cliff.

“I'm not sure I can.” Lydia murmured as she stared at the ground.

“I won't pressure you about any of this.” He watched the tow truck's arrival. “Let's take care of your car, and we can talk some more over a bite to eat.”

“There might not be anything else to say.” She touched his arm said, “I'm sorry.”

“That's okay. Since I'm still pretty new in the area, I'll let you get me up to speed on the ins and outs of Lincolnville.”

As the tow truck driver finished securing Lydia's car to the truck, she asked about a ride to the repair shop.

“I'm sorry; our insurance won't allow any riders.” He unhooked the winch from the car.

“I'll give you a ride,” Matthew said.

“On that thing?” Lydia pointed to the two-tone motorcycle.

“It's perfectly safe. And I promise to drive careful. I'll also let you use my helmet.”

“I guess there isn't much of a choice.”

Matthew's palms sweated as he hooked the black helmet under her chin. He opened the left saddle bag attached to the bike for her purse.

“Is that a Bible?” She stared at the thick red book inside.

“Sure is. There's one on each side. It gives me a secure feeling.” He opened the other bag to show the black book.

She laughed. “It reminds me of a Toby Keith song about riding on a motorcycle with a Bible.”

Matthew sought to control the palpitations he felt as she climbed on behind him, her arms gripping around his torso. When they wrenched forward as he accelerated, she grabbed even tighter. With her arms clutched around, her breath bounced against his neck. Matthew decided, at that moment, he would stop at nothing to become more familiar with this woman. No matter how loud that alarm inside him sounded.

 

 

 

 

 

8

 

Lydia tightened her grip as they flew down the highway. The wind raced over her body. Trees cast a green blur as they sped by. The ride both frightened and excited. It reminded her of when she rode the roller coaster at Six Flags as a kid. The experience thrilled her. At the moment she was unsure if it was from the motorcycle ride or being so near Matthew.

They pulled into Petry's Automotive off the main road in Ringgold, Georgia. Matthew held out his hand for her to take as she climbed from the bike. Her fingers warmed beneath his.

“How'd you like the ride?” He waited until she removed the helmet before continuing. “You enjoyed it. Come on, fess up.”

“You're a wonderful preacher.” Came her reply, with a sly grin.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you scared the devil out of me.” She laughed.

His hair stood in disarray from the wind, but it worked for him. “That's a wonderful sound,” Matthew said. He moved a loose wave of hair that had drooped over Lydia's forehead.

“What sound is that?” Lydia became aware he stared at her in a way that made her self-conscious.

“The sound of you laughing.”

His words, earlier, by the side of the road expressed what she'd been feeling for days, but was afraid to admit. She only hoped she could manage her emotions. When Matthew told her his heart beat out of his chest whenever he saw her, it caused goose bumps to run over her arms.

When they entered the building, Matthew introduced her to his brother-in-law Richard Petry, a big man standing at least six-foot-five then suggested they eat at a sandwich shop on the corner while they waited to hear about her car.

The small deli held only four round tables. Beneath each sat three wrought-iron chairs with barely enough padding to prevent them from being uncomfortable. They placed their order, before taking a seat at the table farthest from the front.

“So, how long have you lived in Lincolnville?” Matthew slipped off his jacket.

“Most of my life. My grandparents moved there shortly after they married. My mom and dad are Lincolnvillians.”

“Tell me about your family.” Matthew leaned against the back of the chair.

“Why? Are you looking for donations?” Lydia teased.

“No. The more I know about my parishioners, the better it helps me to understand them. Things like what type of environment they were raised in, how close they are with their families.”

“I grew up in a fabulous environment. Two loving parents, no harsh times, really until I became a teen. My brother got killed when I was seventeen. But other than that, I had a wonderful childhood. Hard to believe with how crazy my life has been.” Lydia gave off a slight laugh that held no humor.

Matthew fidgeted with a straw wrapper. “Were you and your brother close?”

“Somewhat. He got into drugs, and it changed our relationship. He was killed in some sort of drug sting. I'm not really sure what happened. I have good memories of him when he was younger.” She gulped down tears wanting to rise. “Enough of Charlie. My dad had worked for a computer company for years. He had great benefits, including stock in the company. By his forty-eighth birthday he'd saved enough to retire and buy the property on the hill. They built the ski lodge that can be seen from the main road.”

“Wow, that's a big lodge.” Matthew leaned back in the chair and let out a sigh. “Skiing. That's something I haven't done for a while.”

“You'll have to go. It doesn't always have enough snow, so they make the fake stuff, but it's still fun.” Lydia paused for a sip of her drink. “They leased it out a few years ago. They still own the land, but another couple took over the lodge and cabins. Part of the sale included them allowing the congregation to use a cabin for the youth two weeks every winter at no charge. It works out well.”

“Now I want to know about you,” he said.

“Not much to me.” Lydia shrugged. “I create website logos from my office at the house. Not an abundance of excitement, unless you mention my stalker.”

“I say we ignore him for now,” Matthew said. “What about your two friends, Sheryl and Warren?”

“Ah, you want the gossip.” She raised her eyebrows up and down.

“Not gossip, the real stuff. Knowing about my congregation enables me to be the best minister I can be.”

“Yeah, right.” Lydia wiped condensation from her glass of sweat tea. “Sheryl's an only child. Our mothers are best friends from college. When my parents returned to Lincolnville, so did hers. They all live in Savannah now. Sheryl's grandparents left her a sizeable trust she lives on. She does volunteer work for hospice during the week. She also paints. She always sells out at the art fair held in the town every year. She's very artistic. I have a cousin who sells some of her paintings in Atlanta.”

“Boy, she may not have an official job, but she sounds busy, making fine use of her days.”

“She's the person you should talk to for the inside scoop. She can apprise you of pretty much anything you want to know about anybody in the town. That comes from her being overly friendly. When she goes for a walk, which is almost every day, people stop her to talk. You wouldn't believe what they say about their neighbors. It's really pretty amazing.”

“I'll bet. Tell me about Warren. I know he's getting ready to leave for a job in Seattle, but that's about all I know about him.”

“He leaves in another week. We've known him since grade school. Unlike Sheryl, he's more quiet and reserved. He currently works for his step-dad over at Computer Sense. His dad abandoned the family when he was seven and his mother died a couple years after remarrying. Donald Fisher raised him through his teen years. I believe there are a half-brother and sister out there somewhere, but he's only met them once. Of course Sheryl and Warren argue and tease each other so much, you'd think they were siblings.”

“It's great you three are so close.” Matthew gulped his drink as he leaned an elbow on the table. “How well do you know Riley?”

Lydia smiled at the thought of Riley who had become a good friend. “Since Justin died, he's been a shoulder to lean on. We used to have him over for dinner, but he'd been more my husband's friend than mine. They had worked together on some cases in Atlanta. Justin was a state attorney.

“When the sheriff's office had an opening, he contacted Riley, thinking he might be interested. My mom had quite a bit of pull, and she took stock in Justin's opinion. They hired Riley the day he showed up. It ruffled a few feathers, but he's done a wonderful job so the complaints have lessened.” She chose not to mention that James Newman, III was the most vocal against Riley.

The lady behind the counter brought their order to the table. Lydia watched Matthew as he covered his cheeseburger in ketchup and mustard.

“You enjoy a little bit of hamburger with your ketchup, don't you?”

Matthew smiled. “What can I say? I'm a condiment type of guy.”

Lydia adored the twinkle in his eyes when he smiled. It was both warm and impish. An explosion of sensations went off again. She did have an urge to know him better, or at least she thought so. If only the confusion inside would dissipate to aid in her decision.

 

****

 

Matthew leaned in to listen as Lydia talked about her relationship with her husband's friend. The more she talked, the more he realized how hard Justin's death must have been on Riley.

“Riley is somewhat of a loner. Women find him intriguing because he's quiet and a mystery to them,” Lydia said. “He's not really that hard to figure out. He's serious and doesn't care for game players, which leaves out quite a few women.”

“I'm wondering if a bunch of kids wouldn't loosen him up.”

“Probably. He was real close to a woman at one time, but she died in a robbery. Justin said it caused him to become severe. Apparently, he used to laugh and go out with friends before it happened, but all he does now is throw himself into his work. I can't remember if he's ever had a vacation.”

Matthew shook his head. “That must have been terrible, being a cop and losing a person you care for to a crime you couldn't prevent.”

“I can't think of a time I've ever heard him talk about his parents. The only family I know of is an aunt who visits from Jacksonville. He doesn't seem to have any family close to lean on. It took a tragedy like Justin dying for me to realize what a decent guy Riley is. Of course, I also had Sheryl and Warren beside me. They've kept me from hiding away these last couple of years.” Lydia paused and took a drink. “Enough of me and mine. Let's talk about you. And I want something juicy because when I inform Sheryl about us having dinner, she'll want to hear all the details.”

“You plan to fill Sheryl in about this?”

“Sheryl and I have no secrets.”

Matthew hadn't realized she would divulge their earlier conversation. The idea made him anxious. And then a thought occurred to him. If Sheryl was as good as Lydia indicated at finding information, it would only be a matter of time until she found out about Matthew killing Lydia's brother. Someone in Lincolnville had to know. He didn't keep his DEA record a secret from the committee when he applied for the job, but no one mentioned anything about the incident in Miami. Matthew's stomach tied in a knot.

He swallowed down his unease and said, “Ask away. I'm an open book.”

“How did you end up in Lincolnville? Most preachers we get are older, looking to retire.”

“I'm fond of small towns. They have a charm to them. Big cities have too much bureaucracy instead of God. “

“I'm sure your sister living in Ringgold had something to do with your choice.”

Matthew nodded. “When I visited a couple summers ago, I stopped off for a social call on Riley. The area is nice, so when an opening came up, he gave my name to a committee member as a candidate for the job.”

“And what's your story on Riley?” She crunched a chip from her plate.

“We worked on a case in Atlanta, involving drugs coming through the airport. It was an intricate operation between the pilots and people dealing with the cargo. They couldn't figure out who gave the orders. They brought me in undercover. Riley and I became fast friends. It works well when you have to trust the person handling the operation.”

“You were a cop with the Atlanta Police Department, too?”

“Drug Enforcement Agency,” he said. The words caught in his throat. Would she start to ask questions about her brother? “My work undercover is why I have the tattoos. It personified my so-angry-I'll-do-anything- for-money-image I had to establish.” Matthew's voice lowered. “I'd probably have reconsidered if I'd known I'd end up in this line of work.”

“That's quite a stretch, going from an undercover drug agent to a minister. It's always amazing the people God uses in His work.” Lydia then added, “And the tattoos don't look that bad. Besides, it gives you an in with the kids. You're not like an ordinary preacher, so they might be more willing to listen to what you have to say.”

“I hope so,” Matthew said. “The kids in this country need to understand how much their lives would improve if they accepted and lived for Christ.”

Matthew breathed a sigh of relief as she skipped right over him being with the DEA. Since she was young when her brother died, she might not be aware a cop shot him.

“I agree.” She leaned forward and with a glint in her eye. “Now to the really personal stuff. Are you really as arrogant as you appear, or is that to cover for a lack of self-confidence?”

“Arrogant? What do you mean?” He felt as if a fist had gone into his gut. The worse part, no joke lay behind the question. Lydia was serious.

Lydia held up one finger. “First, you drive an extremely loud motorcycle so everyone knows when you arrive. That either shows you need everyone to be aware you're there, or you do it so they can't miss you, and you won't be lost in the crowd.”

“I bought it like that. I never considered changing it.”

Matthew's discomfort level rose. He'd only felt worse than this one other time in his life. A picture of Charlie Westerman's body lying on the ground with a bullet in his forehead flashed into his mind. He shook his head to get the vision out.

“Maybe, but on the first day you came into the sanctuary, purposely dressed unconventional, no suit or tie. If your goal was to make everyone nervous, you succeeded. Then you proceeded to preach about judging a book by its cover. You knew you'd surprise the congregation with the long hair, but you went overboard with the whole dark look.”

“I do it to show that if a person wears unorthodox clothing or looks a certain way, it doesn't mean they aren't a Christian or someone worth saving.” Matthew stared at her. The bite of his hamburger stuck in his throat.

“If you say so.” Lydia leaned forward. “It couldn't be because you believed the congregation wouldn't accept you with long hair and a tattoo? Instead of a suit, you went for shock. Somewhat judgmental on your part.” She waved her index finger at him, a grin on her face.

Matthew forced his mouth to close. Lydia held a lilt in her words as if teasing, but Matthew sat motionless, stunned by her words. Irritation grew inside.

They sat in silence for what seemed like minutes before he realized how correct her words were. Would the people in the diner still have cringed that first day, if instead of walking to the back, he had introduced himself to a few of them? Maybe he should review his own sermon. He might actually learn something from it.

This woman told him information about himself that wasn't evident to him before. It brought a chill along his spine. She had him figured out from the beginning, like she could see through to his inner thoughts, and he could barely read her. His breathing intensified as he stared at her.