The Matchmakers of Butternut Creek (20 page)

“I wanted to see you.” Her voice wasn’t what he considered her usual
Gussie
voice. No, it sounded a little tentative. Gussie Milton uncertain?

Maybe that was good, too.

Then she let go of his hand and took a step back. What did that mean?

“Aren’t we meeting for coffee tomorrow? I mean, not that I’m not glad to see you, but…”

“I wanted to see you
today
.”

How much better could life get?

“Preacher.”

A voice cut its way through the warm cloud of bliss surrounding him and Gussie. Adam rearranged his muddled thoughts and turned to focus on the speaker.

“How can I help you, Howard?”

“Hot enough for you?”

Adam nodded. He never knew how to answer that question.

Then the elder looked back and forth between the two and grinned. “Nothing, Preacher.” He took several steps back. “I’ll leave a note in your office.”

He hurried away. When Howard reached the door from the front of the sanctuary to the back hallway, Adam could hear soft whispering. The Widows had captured Howard and were now grilling him. Poor man.

“Why don’t we go to my office?” Adam asked. “We can talk with a little more privacy.”

“Can we escape the Widows?” She used her head to point in the directions of the women.

“I have a secret route. They’ll never know we’ve left.”

Feeling like a spy in a bad movie, he led Gussie around the church, surreptitiously checking for Widows, then through the office entrance and into his study without seeing anyone. Once there, he unzipped his robe, hung it on the coatrack, and reached for his jacket.

“Hello, Gussie.” Miss Birdie’s voice came from the doorway.

“Miss Birdie.” Gussie nodded and smiled at the pillar. “So nice to see you.”

“What are you doing way up here? So far from Roundville?”

“I was in the area and thought I’d drop by. It’s so good to see you.”

Signs of struggle crossed Miss Birdie’s face. She bit her lips and blinked several times. Adam had learned to read her expressions. This one meant goading Gussie for more information crossed a line between civility and rudeness that even Miss Birdie couldn’t force herself to step over. And yet she knew no one merely “dropped by” Butternut Creek.

“How nice,” the pillar finally said. Then, fists on her hips, she turned to glare at Adam. “Don’t forget where you are and who you are. You are a minister and an example to our young folks. Don’t close this door when you’re alone with a woman.” She gave an emphatic nod.

Adam felt as if he were in eighth grade when his mother found him in the closet with Susie Page. He glanced at the door just to make sure he hadn’t closed it. Still wide open.

Then, with a charming smile, the pillar said, “Gussie, I know you’ve had a long drive and have another going back home. The Widows have prepared a nice snack for you in the garden. Don’t worry about Hector and Janey, Preacher. Bree’s taking them out for a hamburger.” Her voice sweet still, she added, “Don’t tarry.” She strode out.

Once they could no longer hear her footfalls in the reception office, Gussie fell into a chair and laughed. “Don’t you love Miss Birdie?” she asked.

He had to think about that. “Sometimes,” he said. “Not always.”

“Preacher?” Blossom called from the front office. “Lunch is ready.”

The garden
was a euphemism for the five-by-five grass squares on the back and sides of the church where every other inch of ground was covered with asphalt. On this side, the west, they were screened from the highway by the gym wing of the building so they could enjoy a modicum of privacy.

“Hector keeps the garden up,” Adam explained to Gussie as they neared it. “He earns a little spending money taking care of the lawn in front of the church and the parsonage.” He held a chair for Gussie. Once she was seated, he settled in the chair across from her, slightly aware of the scent of mosquito repellent, ubiquitous in the summer. The Widows must have sprayed out here to make sure not even an insect intruded.

“There you are,” Mercedes said with enthusiastic delight, as if they’d wandered off in the wilderness and had finally returned. From her tray, she took forks and crisp, white napkins and placed them in front of each followed by glasses of iced tea, then stood back and beamed at them.

Blossom followed with another plate, which filled up the rest of the space on the table. “Here are a few cucumber sandwiches,” she said. “From an old family recipe.”

“They look delicious.” Gussie smiled at Blossom. “Exactly right for a warm afternoon.”

Miss Birdie arrived with a bowl of fruit salad and looked around for a place to set it. Seeing none, she took the spoon from the bowl and scooped a serving onto each plate.

He should never underestimate the wonders the Widows could perform in no time at all. They possessed abilities and powers he could only marvel at.

“You young people go right ahead and eat,” Mercedes said. “We’ll be here in case you need something.”

Three Widows watched him, looking like buzzards, keeping an eye on a particularly flavorful deer carcass.

Adam guessed Winnie was with her fiancé, which was a relief. Although he had encouraged Mercedes and the pillar to increase the number of Widows, he realized he was paying for that at this moment. Three Widows watching them closely, listening to every word, studying each movement frightened him. All four women together would have rendered him incoherent and, possibly, androgynous.

Adam remembered a story his friend had told him, that the Widows had set up a date for Sam and Willow and then sneaked away to leave them alone. And yet, here they stood, as if protecting his honor and Gussie’s.

“Thank you,” he said. “I think we’re fine.” He attempted to fill his voice with a nuance that said,
Leave us alone
.

Didn’t work.

He repeated, “We’re fine,” and winked.

When that met with silence, he said, “I don’t know if the three of you remember, but this kind of thing usually isn’t done with an audience.”

“Yes, Pastor, but we’re not so sure you know anything about courting,” the pillar said.

Could this get any more embarrassing? Of course it could.

“You know, he’s right,” Mercedes stated. “We should leave them alone.”

Blossom nodded. “He’s going to have to take over at some time. How can he make his move with us watching?”

Gussie picked up her napkin to hide her smile but Adam wanted to sink through the garden.

“Oh, all right.” Miss Birdie took a few steps back and wagged her finger at Adam. “Don’t leave a mess. Take the plates in the kitchen and wash them. Detergent’s under the sink. Leave them to dry in the drainer.”

“Thank you, ladies.” He didn’t mention he’d been doing dishes himself for years and cleaned up the church kitchen after meetings. No need to pick a fight now. Besides, the sooner he agreed, the sooner they’d leave him and Gussie in peace.

Why didn’t the Widows consider it wrong for the two to be alone in the kitchen? Did they believe the presence of a detergent and dish drainer would keep him on the straight and narrow, remind him of his position in the community, and stop him from seducing Gussie? It was satisfying that the Widows believed it could happen, if not for the presence of the plates to be washed and placed in the drainer.

Of course, the agony wasn’t over yet. The pillar turned to Gussie. “He’s a good young man but he’s not much of a ladies’ man.”

Such positive words. Why didn’t they just come right out with it, say,
The man’s a hopeless idiot with women
, and leave it at that?

“You may have to help him along,” Mercedes added helpfully.

Gussie straightened and placed the napkin back in her lap. “Thank you, ladies,” she said seriously, although Adam thought he detected a quiver in her lips.

Exactly what he needed, for Gussie to find him and his plight amusing.

“And, Preacher—” Miss Birdie paused for emphasis but he’d heard that waving-finger tone in her voice. “—don’t make a move on Miss Milton inside the church.”

Aah, yes, that good-example stuff again.

For a moment, Gussie and Adam listened to the galloping clatter of the Widows as they headed around the building and toward the parking lot. A minute later, after what Adam imagined was a short powwow, he heard cars start and drive off.

He had survived, not even seriously wounded.

“Oh, my!” Gussie grinned. “Aren’t they wonderful?” Checking Adam’s expression, she said, “Well, maybe not. I’d guess having them around all the time and pestering you isn’t as much fun as
watching
them nag you.”

“Fortunately, Howard warned me about the Widows before I arrived. They do so much for the church and community, I can’t stay mad or frustrated for long. Miss Birdie is priceless, but there are times when they treat me like their youngest grandson who isn’t very bright and can’t figure anything out on his own. Then I don’t find them amusing.”

He took a sandwich and offered her another.

“No thanks,” she said. “I’m really not a great fan of cucumber sandwiches. But the fruit is wonderful.”

Gussie watched Adam eat. She enjoyed merely being here, sitting close to him. In the warmth of the sunshine and the whisper of the breeze, she was glad she’d come. Her action had been completely out of character. She’d driven here on a whim, at odds with her usually logical behavior.

Why? Why had she set herself and Adam up for this kind of attention? She should have realized her appearance would send the Widows into a matchmaking frenzy.

She’d stewed about the meeting in Marble Falls all day Saturday, one reason for coming to Butternut Creek. This morning, she’d gotten up, dressed, told her parents good-bye, and hopped in the car.
Impulsive
didn’t describe her, but today it felt right.

While she studied him, he glanced up, not saying a word. Probably wondered why she was here, expected a fuller explanation than she’d given him right after the service.

“I’m sorry I’ve acted like an idiot every time you show up.” She paused to think of words. “Both times, you startled me. I’m afraid I was rude.”

“Not rude,” he said. “You didn’t have any warning. Besides, you already apologized.” Then he smiled and leaned forward, reached his hand toward her, and touched her fingers.

She nearly leaped from the chair. Then she settled down and froze.

Oh, no. She’d hoped she’d gotten over that reaction. She’d thought the attraction to Adam, the years of therapy, and the love and support from her parents had healed her. Would she ever, ever be okay? Would she ever recover? How could she allow those terrible minutes from years ago to influence—​no, to destroy—​her life even now? Wasn’t she better and stronger and more faithful than that?

Seemed not.

She gave a shaky laugh. “I’m sorry. You startled me.”

“I could tell. Ministers are good at reading body language.” He kept his eyes on her face. “When a woman leaps into the air at the touch of a hand, it’s a sign of something. Usually not something good.”

Obviously he didn’t accept her reaction as being startled. No, he recognized it as another kind of response. She could only hope he couldn’t read the truth in her eyes.

“I’m fine, just overly vigilant.” She waved a hand around and attempted to change the subject. “Isn’t this a lovely place?”

What was that?
Adam dropped his hand back on the table and studied Gussie. Her eyes were wide, her face was nearly white, and she gasped to catch her breath. She’d jerked back, not in surprise. He’d frightened her, a response he hadn’t expected. One she hadn’t expected, either, he bet.

He remembered a teenager in his student church who’d been abused by her father. She’d reacted in nearly the same way when he’d lightly touched her shoulder to get past her. That poor girl had performed a long jump that could have qualified her for the Olympics. After that, she nearly fainted and he’d kept his distance.

Slowly color returned to Gussie’s face, and she attempted to smile pleasantly and normally at him. He didn’t buy it. He didn’t believe her explanation for a second, but out here wasn’t the place to discuss her problems. This didn’t feel like a good time, either.

He acted as if he didn’t see her struggle for control as he sat back in his chair to leave her plenty of space. “I’m not fond of cucumber sandwiches myself. Not very filling. Let’s look in the fridge and see if there’s anything there.”

Standing, he picked up his plate and glass and other stuff. Usually, he’d have picked up hers as well, but extending an arm in her direction and invading her space didn’t feel like a good idea.

Gussie gave him a smile that began with a quiver before, slowly, becoming the one he recognized as hers. “I’m sorry…,” she began, then seemed to realize where they were and that neighbors could be watching from the houses that backed onto the parking lot and grassy area. With a sweeping motion that looked a lot more like the Gussie he knew, she grabbed her place setting and headed toward the kitchen door.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice sounded calm and strong as they entered. She placed the plate in the sink and turned on the hot water.

“Gussie, you don’t need to apologize.”

Adam placed his dishes next to the sink and watched her carefully wash off the plates, then scrub each with a scouring pad until he feared she’d scour off the floral pattern. She finished the few utensils and placed everything in the drainer. Then she wiped off her hands and—he guessed—couldn’t think of anything more to do, so she turned to him and shook her head. “Will I ever get over that?” she whispered as she kept her gaze on the floor.

He stayed still and silent and waited. Finally, when she didn’t speak, he asked, “Gussie, why did you come here?”

“To see you.” She sighed and looked up at him. “I really wanted to see you. I believed I was okay, but you’ve noticed I’m not. I have a problem I can’t seem to get past.” She took a few steps and dropped onto a folding chair.

He sat in a chair a few feet from her. She looked pale and anxious and just plain terrible. She had trouble meeting his gaze, studying her hands as often as she glanced at him. No, she didn’t want closeness now.