my future wife running around being late all the time.”
Belinda couldn’t decide which assumption she wanted to object to first. Having spent the past few days soul-searching, she decided on the farthest-reaching one. “I told you, Sam. We’re good friends. There’s no reason to spoil a great relationship by getting married.”
“So you say.” He slipped his arm around her waist and escorted her down the porch steps, not letting go until they reached his car. As he opened the passenger door for her he said, “If you weren’t such a prude we could be having a lot more fun right now, though.”
Belinda rolled her eyes. “We’ve been over and over this subject, Sam. It’s not open to discussion.”
Chuckling, he circled the car and slid behind the wheel. “Okay. But I’m not going to wait for you forever.”
“I’ve never asked you to wait for me at all. That was your idea.”
“Because you’re worth it.” He flashed her a toothpaste smile and reached over to pat her hand as he drove. “All I have to do is figure out how to make you wake up and realize I’d be the perfect husband for you.”
Belinda wanted to refute his claim but something held her back. Was it possible Sam was right? Could she be making a terrible mistake? It was conceivable. Sam was a nice enough person, and according to her late father she’d never shown good judgment where men were concerned.
Lost in thought she smoothed the skirt of her silky teal blue dress, admiring the beautiful fabric. The dress was one of her favorites, even though Sam had admitted he didn’t care for it. He preferred she wear tailored outfits in more subdued colors, especially when she accompanied him to Chamber dinners or other business functions. She didn’t really mind.
When it came to attending church, however, she wanted to feel uplifted, joyful. Bright colors helped her do that. So did singing. When the organ, piano and choir voices filled the sanctuary with heavenly music, she was transported to a time of carefree childhood, when her family had been intact and she hadn’t imagined she’d one day feel so alone. So abandoned. So…
Oh, stop! Belinda ordered in disgust. You’re being ridiculous. You have much more to be thankful for than a lot of people do. You should be ashamed of yourself.
She truly was ashamed. After all, she still had Eloise and a whole church-full of dear friends, not to mention the other people in Serenity who cared about her. It was a wonderful place. Even with its small town politics and petty rivalries it beat living in a big city, where most neighbors didn’t even know each other’s names. Or care to learn them.
Sam’s voice jarred her reverie as he wheeled the Camaro into the church parking lot. “Well, we’re here. What are you thinking about? You looked awfully serious just now.”
“Serenity,” Belinda said, smiling. “The town, not the frame of mind. Sometimes I can hardly believe how perfect this place is.”
“Hold that thought,” he teased. “It’s excellent PR for the Chamber of Commerce.”
“I know.” She looped her purse strap over one arm, cradled her Bible and got out. “Remember that the next time I ask for a raise.”
“I will.” As they started for the large, redbrick church he offered her his arm, waited until she took it, then leaned closer to add, “Of course, if you were my wife, you wouldn’t have to worry about working.”
Belinda decided it was wisest to treat his comment lightly. She batted her lashes, gazed at him melodramatically and said, “Oh, sugar pie, you mean I’d get to stay home with all twelve of our kids?”
Sam’s resulting chuckle sounded more like choking than laughing. “How about we start with one or two?” He raised an eyebrow. “Or were you kidding?”
Stifling a giggle she told him, “I was kidding. I can’t believe you thought I was serious.”
“I never know with you. Your moods can be really hard to read sometimes.”
“Oh?” Belinda was about to ask for clarification when she felt a tingle at the nape of her neck. She shivered. Looked back. A dignified man wearing dark glasses and driving a shiny black Lexus was pulling into the parking lot. She didn’t have to stare to know it was Paul Randall.
Her ire rose. How dare he follow her to church!
Inside the sanctuary, Belinda tried to forget who she’d seen arriving. She and Sam were seated in the third row, as usual. Since she couldn’t see Paul in front of her, she assumed he had to be somewhere behind. Was he far away? Close by? If she peeked over her shoulder, would she spot him? Catch him watching her so she could give him an appropriately disapproving look in return? The thought of meeting his intense gaze sent a frisson of electricity zinging up her spine.
The congregation stood for the first hymn. Sam offered to share his hymnbook, but Belinda didn’t need it. She’d memorized the words to most of the songs as a child because if her father’s church door had been open, she and her mother were expected to be there. Truth to tell, she hadn’t concentrated on her father’s sermons nearly as well as she should have. The beautiful, inspiring music, however, had always captured and held her attention.
“Blessed assurance…” Voice clear and sweet, she sang the first few words, then suddenly quieted. Directly behind her an accomplished baritone was harmonizing with so much feeling and skill it took her breath away. He sounded familiar. Acting on impulse, she glanced over her shoulder, certain she had to be mistaken. She wasn’t. Paul Randall was standing in the next row back, singing his heart out!
“…of glory divine…” Sam elbowed her and thrust the open hymnal at her again. Hands trembling, Belinda grasped one side of it and stared at the printed page. Looking at the words didn’t help a bit. Her mind was whirling so fast she couldn’t focus. All she could do was listen in awe.
It was like a miracle! Paul sounded as if he really meant what the song was saying. Whenever she’d managed to drag him into church as a teen he’d acted so sullen he hadn’t even opened his mouth, let alone shown any musical talent. What a magnificent voice he had! She could listen to singing like that all day and never tire of it.
The hymn ended. Belinda followed Sam’s lead and quietly sat down, but her spirit was still soaring. Paul’s voice had touched every nerve in her body, echoed from the corners of her heart and lifted her soul to a higher plane.
What a shame he isn’t in the choir, she thought absently. Logic immediately contradicted the notion. Bad idea. It would strain her already tenuous emotions if she had to see Paul sitting with the other members of the choir every Sunday. Good thing he didn’t actually live around here! Imagining him as an active member of her church was probably nothing more than emotional regression, she reasoned, wishful thinking left over from her youth.
Taking a shaky breath, Belinda decided that was exactly what was happening. At eighteen, she’d hoped and prayed that Paul would join her father’s church, settle down and become a productive member of the community, someone she could introduce to everyone, including her dad, without feeling she had to make excuses.
Now, all that had changed. She had matured. Her father had died. Whether or not Paul Randall had truly bettered himself was no longer her concern. If he hadn’t returned to Serenity she might never even have thought of him again.
Her
