Pastor's Assignment (5 page)

Ten

The doorbell rang near the end of Laney's shower. She didn't hear the bell but couldn't miss Angel's howls.

Grabbing a towel, she quickly dried herself off and dressed in her favorite denim skirt and a pumpkin-colored T-shirt.

“Rock's early,” she told the dog who darted between her feet. Angel growled. “You better get used to hearing that name,” Laney warned the dog, “because we're getting married.”

The dog reached the front door and began to wag his tail. Laney slid back the deadbolt. “Good boy, Angel. That's a much better attitude.”

When she opened the front door, however, Laney stared straight up into the piercing brown eyes of Detective Ty Steele.

Laney blinked in shock. “Ty?”

“Hello, Laney.”

Laney watched Angel launch himself at the detective. The papillon rolled on his back and shamelessly begged for attention. Ty sighed as if this were the last thing he wanted but knelt and rubbed the dog's belly.

Angel certainly likes Ty Steele,
Laney thought. And the feeling seemed mutual for him. Maybe he should get a dog of his own instead of a guinea pig. Maybe she would let him borrow Angel for a few days.

Straightening, Ty tried to ignore the small dog that stood on his hind feet demanding attention. The detective looked bigger in the doorway, and she had to tilt her chin to look up at him.

She wasn't wearing heels. That was it. That's why he seemed so tall.

“May I come in?”

“This really isn't a good time,” Laney replied. She touched her soaking wet hair. Uh-oh. She felt something foamy. Was that shampoo?

“I'll just be a moment. All I want is the note.”

“The note,” Laney repeated. She frowned. “You were supposed to come to the pet store.” With Rock due any moment, Ty couldn't have chosen a worse time.

“Something came up,” Ty said. “Something that makes it even more important you and I talk about the note you found.”

Wondering what might have happened, Laney pulled the door open wider. Ty walked inside the apartment as Angel raced ahead barking with happiness.

Laney looked around for her purse. The room was so clean it looked vaguely foreign. For her special evening with Rock, she'd wanted everything perfect. Sighing, she put her hands on her hips and tried to remember where her purse might be. She didn't see it, which confirmed in her mind that putting things away only led to trouble in the long run.

Her hair dripped, leaving a big wet patch on the back of her T-shirt. She could only imagine how she must look. Barefoot, no makeup, and a big gob of soap still in her hair.

“The note,” Ty Steele repeated.

“Okay, okay,” Laney said. “I'm getting it. Stop glaring at me.”

“I'm not glaring at you,” Ty said. “I have a lot on my mind.”

Laney checked behind the couch cushions. If she had more time, she would have explained that women didn't like to be looked at as if they were about to be arrested. No wonder he was so lonely. And then she remembered where she'd put the note.

She put her hand inside the umbrella stand and pulled out her purse. Her hand trembled slightly as she carefully unfolded the worn paper. She smiled a bit wistfully at the odd tug of her heart and wondered if any other words would move her as much.

Sighing, she gave in to the urge to press the note to her heart. Returning to the living room, she saw Ty staring at a photograph of her and Rock in a twin, heart-shaped frame.

“I'll give you the note,” Laney said. “But I'm going to ask you to do one last thing for me.”

Ty scowled. “It depends.”

“Read the note aloud, once.”

Ty shrugged and reached out his hand. Reluctantly Laney gave him the yellow paper. Ty cleared his throat and began to read.

My Forever Regret

Our two hearts beat as one,

But suddenly you were gone.

To see your sweet face

would be my saving grace.

You were my moon, sun, and stars

When I held you in my arms.

I thought you would be mine forever;

From this mistake I'll never recover.

I put my work first and left you alone,

Neglected you shamelessly; your needs went unknown.

You heard me say I loved another.

Didn't you know I spoke of my brother?

You slipped out of my life

And out of my heart took a slice.

Now when I look at the washing machine,

It looks like something obscene.

An instrument of death, a monster to hate,

Not even when I smashed it did my grief abate.

Depression is my companion, aloneness my friend.

Oh, please, someone, tell me how to make it end.

Ty looked up. His mouth twisted in horror. “You think I wrote that? That has to be the most pathetic excuse for a poem I have ever seen.” He raked his hands through his hair. “It doesn't even rhyme properly.”

“Well, you were in a rush when you wrote it.” Laney knew she sounded defensive. She frowned, thinking she had expected a different emotion to surface when he read the poem.

“I'd have to have been on drugs to write that,” Ty insisted. He handed her back the paper. “Here. Keep it. Only a completely insane person would think I wrote that.” He laughed humorlessly. “Tell your father he's a much better sheriff than poet.”

Laney looked at the smile on his face and saw the truth in his eyes. For a moment she clung to the hope that the look was a pose; but when his gaze met hers without flinching, she knew she'd done it again. Her heart sank to her stomach. Her gaze fell to her hands.

“My father didn't write that poem,” she said miserably. “And apparently you didn't either.”

She stared at her ring. The fat diamond seemed to wink at her as if she were nothing more than a joke. The enormity of her mistake crushed her to the bone.

She'd made an idiot of herself, sneaking around restaurants and even tailing him to the grocery store. How could she think God would choose her to do His work? It was all true—every Calamity 'Lane joke.

She hung her head in her hands. “I'm such an idiot.”

“You finally believe me.” Ty sighed in relief.

Laney looked at him through tear-filled eyes. “I was so sure I wouldn't mess up things this time.”

Ty coughed and looked away. “It was an honest mistake.”

“Right,” Laney said. “Like anyone else would pick up a note in church and do what I did.” She sniffed. “Can you believe I actually thought God was giving me a chance to make up for all the times I've goofed up?”

“I'm sure you meant well.”

Laney shook her head. “I'm the last person who should try to help someone else. I'd probably shove someone off the roof trying to save them from jumping.”

“You're not so bad,” Ty said in the stilted sort of way that told her clearly he was lying. “Besides, they have safety nets for jumpers these days.”

She tried to laugh, but the noise sounded more like a sob.

“I was only joking,” he said. “I'd trust you to save me if I needed it.”

She looked up, and her hands fell away from her face. “You would?” She wasn't sure she believed him, but she could at least hope he meant it.

“Sure,” Ty replied. He shifted an inch farther from her on the sofa. She watched his gaze go to the door. “Nobody's perfect all the time,” he added.

“But I'm imperfect all the time.” Laney nodded. “It's the truth.”

“It's not the truth,” Ty replied. “Not just anyone is willing to help a stranger.” For the first time she heard sincerity in his voice. “Believe me—most people are interested only in themselves.”

Laney's heart began to beat harder, as if the sadness had been a weight that had been removed. Right now she felt closer to him than she ever had to any other person on earth.

“You're not just interested in yourself, either,” she said. “I remember what you said about helping make schools safer when we were at the grocery store.”

She couldn't seem to look away from him. He was gazing at her differently, as if he saw something new and good about her.

When his gaze dropped to her hands, she realized she'd been twisting her engagement ring around and around. Of course she would have to tell Rock what had happened. He'd be horrified, but she hoped he would understand.

“I probably should go,” Ty said.

Laney looked up, feeling strangely bereft yet finding she couldn't think of anything to say to him.

“You might want to wash that shampoo out of your hair before your company arrives,” Ty suggested. His mouth lifted at the corner, and she could see he was trying to coax a smile out of her.

Her cheeks grew hot. “Yeah, well, sorry for all the inconvenience I've put you through.” She stood and walked toward the door. “Good luck with the sheriff's race.”

“Don't set up any more meetings by that church pond,” Ty warned her. “It's too isolated.” He paused in the open door. “Take care of yourself, Laney.” And then he was gone.

Eleven

Laney rinsed off the gob of shampoo with the hose in the sink. But before she had time to dry her hair or change into a dressier outfit, the doorbell rang. Hair dryer in hand, she glanced at the bathroom mirror and groaned. This wasn't the way she'd pictured meeting Rock at the door for their special dinner.

The doorbell rang again, followed by knocking. Angel barked and tugged at the hem of her skirt. Putting down the dryer, Laney combed her damp hair behind her ears. She took a deep breath for courage and headed for the front door.

She'd barely entered the living room when she heard a voice call from the other side of the door. “Laney, are you in there?”

She froze. Angel growled. She and the dog exchanged glances. She knew they were thinking the same thing. The voice on the other side of the door belonged to none other than Mother Tilly.

Trying to hide her dismay at the thought of finding her future mother-in-law at her front door when she looked far from her best, Laney swung open the door.

“Laney, we thought you might be dead on the floor,” Tilly Weyeth said, with Rock standing beside her.

Angel charged through the open space and circled the visitors at full speed. He dodged Tilly's foot as she aimed a kick in his direction.

“Sorry, but I was still getting ready,” Laney said.

“That much is obvious.” Mother Tilly frowned. As if the sight of her future daughter-in-law's wet hair and bare feet was nearly unbearable, she focused her gaze over Laney's left shoulder. “Rock said we should come at seven o'clock.”

Laney forced herself not to look at her watch, though she was pretty sure it wasn't that time yet. “Well, come on in!”

Rock kissed her cheek as he passed her. She caught a whiff of his ginseng-scented aftershave. It smelled as smooth as his freshly shaven cheek against hers. She looked at the shopping bag in his hands. “What's that?”

“Dinner,” Mother Tilly said, as if she were surprised Laney should have to ask. “I made beef bourguignon, salad, rolls, and a Dutch crumb apple pie for dessert.”

Laney's gaze found Rock's. This was supposed to be their evening. His mother wasn't invited, and neither was her beef bourguignon.

What had happened to the quiet evening she'd planned for them together? Her dinner, vegetarian chili, simmered on the stove; her corn bread heated in the oven; and chocolate ice cream waited in the freezer.

Rock's smile materialized on his face with the grace of a magician pulling a rabbit from his hat. Laney recognized the expression as one he used to pass off an especially farfetched compliment at the donut table at church. “I invited Mother to join us for dinner tonight.”

Rock rearranged a clump of Laney's wet hair to the correct side of her part. “I knew you wouldn't mind.”

“Oh,” Laney said. In fact, she did mind. She minded a lot. Her mouth opened and then closed. She would forgive Rock for his insensitivity and hoped that later, when he learned about what happened with Ty Steele, he'd forgive her.

“When Rock told me about that little mishap with the pastor, I knew I had to come right over and help,” Mother Tilly said. She took the shopping bag from her son's arms. “I brought some things to help you ace that premarital test,” she said. “Rock can bring the rest of the bags from the car after dinner.”

“Rest of the bags?” Laney whispered.

“Mother brought her cookbooks, volumes one through five.” Rock blew a kiss at his mother. “She's marked all my favorite recipes for you.”

“And I'm going to explain how to make each and every one,” his mother promised. Her gaze continued to rest lovingly on her son. “And I'll make Laney copies so she can start her own notebook of Rock's favorite foods.”

“Isn't she great?” Rock said enthusiastically as he spontaneously threw an arm around his mother's shoulder. “And that's not the only surprise Mother has for you tonight.” He winked at Laney. “But I don't want to give everything away at once.”

“Now you'll have to excuse me,” his mother said, slipping out from under her son's arm and smiling broadly at him. “I want to warm up dinner.”

Tilly's black silk skirt swished around her legs as she crossed the small apartment to the kitchen.

Laney stared hard at Rock, wondering how he could stand there looking so satisfied. Every inch of her shrank at the prospect of his mother instructing her on how to please Rock.

“We were supposed to talk to each other tonight,” she whispered. She pointed to the dining room table where she had placed a yellow tablecloth and topped it with sky blue plates. “We need time alone together to discuss things.”

“I had a better idea,” Rock said. “After you told me about failing the premarital, I knew I had to do something.” He paused. “My mother is our secret weapon. I'll eat my shirt if Pastor Bruce comes up with something about me on the exam that she won't cover tonight.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe you should take notes.”

“Are you serious, Rock?” Laney asked. Her voice rose. “Why don't we just have your mother stand outside the window with cue cards when we take the test?”

“Because we don't know exactly what questions are going to be on the exam,” Rock replied patiently.

“Rock.” Laney lowered her voice, keenly aware of his mother in the kitchen. “I want to know the deep stuff about you. The things you never told anyone else. Your fears, your dreams, those kinds of things.”

Rock cocked his head at her as if unsure what had upset her. He gave her a small coaxing smile. “That stuff won't be on the exam,” he said. “Mother can tell you everything you need to know.”

“ ‘Mother can tell you everything you need to know,' ” Laney repeated in frustration, imitating Rock's voice more closely than she'd known possible and drawing back when she saw the look of shock on Rock's face.

“Mother,” Rock called loudly, “someone out here isn't in a very cheerful mood tonight.” He raised his eyebrows as he always did when he was trying to convey a show of patience above and beyond human capability. “You'd better come right out here and give her the present.”

“I don't want a present,” Laney protested. “And if I'm not cheerful,” she said, “it's because—”

Laney's words broke off as Tilly walked into the room and, without sparing Laney a glance, reached her son's side. Her eyes gleamed with the pleasure of teaming with her only son.

“With that wet hair, she's probably freezing,” Tilly explained, “or embarrassed because she wasn't ready for us.” She flashed her son a smile that said she loved him despite his poor taste in women.

Frowning, Laney dragged her hand through her wet hair. She resisted with effort the urge to protest she was neither cold nor embarrassed and that Tilly could speak directly to her.

Tilly opened her purse and pulled out a large black velvet jewelry case. Laney couldn't explain the sudden dread that shot through her at the sight of the velvet case.

“It's the Weyeth lavaliere,” Tilly said lovingly, handing the box to Rock. “Every bride in the Weyeth family wears the necklace at her wedding.” Her fingers touched the gold chain as if remembering long ago wearing the lavaliere at her own wedding.

Rock lifted the necklace from the box reverently. He let it dangle from his fingers. “Isn't it beautiful?”

Beautiful wasn't the word that came to mind. Tacky, gaudy, and downright ugly described it better. Embedded in a patchwork of semiprecious stones was a series of small diamond chips that formed the letter W. It was the size of a silver dollar, and more than anything it looked to Laney like an oversized dog tag.

“I'm speechless,” Laney said at last.

Rock and Tilly let out their breath simultaneously and exchanged looks. “Put it on now,” Rock said. “I've been looking forward to seeing this on you all day.” He smiled with boyish excitement. “You can't imagine how hard it's been keeping it a secret from you.”

Laney swallowed. “I imagine it was.” And then because Rock was looking at her as if he had found pirate gold to lay at her feet, she added, “It really is incredible.”

Rock raised the necklace. Tilly's hand slapped it down immediately. “She shouldn't put it on with wet hair.” Her lips puckered. “And it would go better with a”—she paused—“a different outfit.”

Laney sighed with relief, despite the insult to her choice of clothing. Rock frowned thoughtfully. “You're quite right, Mother.” His moustache drooped to reflect his disappointment.

“I'm sure Laney has lots of suitable outfits in her closet,” Mother Tilly continued. “We'll just go and pick one out right now. How's that, Rock?”

“Great idea,” Rock said, brightening immediately.

“No, really,” Laney said. “The necklace deserves nicer than what I have. Plus my hair is wet. Another time probably would be better.”

“No, no, no,” Mother Tilly said. She turned in the direction of Laney's bedroom. “Nothing like the present for our present.” She smiled at her words. “Come on, dear,” she directed to Laney's left ear.

As Tilly marched off to the bedroom, Laney tried to remind herself that, as Pastor Bruce said, some people were like heavenly sandpaper. She wondered what lesson Mother Tilly had to offer and what rough edges of her personality would be made smooth by her future mother-in-law. Ordering herself to hold on to her temper, Laney stepped inside her bedroom.