Opal Winchester, said a few words, then started toward the door that led outside. Maybe she needed some air, a few minutes away from the crowd, some time to herself. And maybe he should leave her to it. But he’d seen sadness in her eyes and sensed a loneliness that he knew only too well.
And he was curious.
He admitted it to himself as he smiled and waved his way across the reception hall and out the door. Already the day was waning, the sky graying as the sun began its slow descent. The air felt crisp and clean, the quiet sounds of rural life a music that Ben never tired of hearing.
He glanced around the parking lot, saw Chloe leaning against Blooming Baskets’ pink van and strode toward her. “It looks like the flowers were a big success.”
“Opal is pleased, anyway.” Her eyes were emerald-green and striking against the kind of flawless skin that could have graced magazine covers. Only a deep scar on the side of her neck marred its perfection.
“She should be. You worked hard.” He leaned a shoulder against the van, studying Chloe’s face, wondering at the tension in her. Opal had told him almost nothing about the woman she’d hired a week ago. Only that Chloe was recovering from surgery and working at Blooming Baskets. There was more to the story, of course. A lot more. But Ben doubted he’d get answers from either woman.
“So did you. Thanks again for all your help.” She smiled, but the sadness in her eyes remained.
“It was no problem. People in my congregation call me all the time for help.” Though he had to admit he’d been surprised by Opal’s early morning summons. Flowers? Definitely not his thing.
“That may be true, but being woken up before dawn and asked to do a job you’re not getting paid for goes way beyond the call of duty.”
“But not beyond the call of friendship.”
“If that’s the case, Opal is lucky to have a friend like you.”
“In my experience, luck doesn’t have a whole lot to do with how things work out.”
“You’re right about that.” She straightened, brushing thick black bangs from her eyes. “Opal came into my life just when I most needed someone. I’ve always thought that was a God thing. Not a luck thing.”
“But?”
She raised an eyebrow at his question, but answered it. “Lately it’s been hard to see much of God in the things that have happened in my life.”
“You’ve had a hard time.” The scars on her neck and hand were testimony to that, the pain in her eyes echoing the physical evidence left by whatever had happened.
Chloe’s gaze was focused on some distant point. Maybe the trees. Maybe the last rays of the dying sun. Maybe some dream or hope that had been lost. “Yes, but things are better now.”
He was sure he heard a hint of doubt in her voice, but she didn’t give him a chance to comment, just shrugged too-thin shoulders. “I’d better get back inside before Opal sends out a posse.”
The words and her posture told Ben the conversation was closed. He didn’t push to open it again. Much as he might be curious about Chloe, he had no right to press for answers. “I’m surprised she hasn’t already. There must be at least five unmarried men she hasn’t introduced you to yet.”
“Is that what was going on? I was wondering why almost every person she introduced me to was male.” She laughed, light and easy, her body losing some of its tension, her lips curving into a full-out grin that lit her face, glowed in her eyes.
“You should do that more often.”
The laughter faded, but the smile remained. “Do what?”
“Smile.”
“I’ve been smiling all day.”
“Your lips might have been, but your heart wasn’t in it.”
She blinked, started to respond, but the door to the reception hall flew open, spilling light and sound out into the deepening twilight.
“There you are!” Opal’s voice carried over the rumble of wedding excitement as she hurried toward them. “Things are winding down. It won’t be long before Hawke and Miranda leave.”
“Are you hinting that we should get back inside?”
“You know me better than that, Ben. I never hint.”
It was true. In the years Ben had been pastoring Grace Christian Church, Opal had never hesitated to give her opinion or state her mind. A widow who’d lost her husband the same year Ben lost his wife, she was the one woman Ben knew who’d never tried to set him up with a friend, relative or acquaintance.
She had, however, told him over and over again that a good pastor needed a good wife. Maybe she was right, but Ben wasn’t looking for one. “So, you’re telling us we should get back inside?”
“Exactly.” She smiled. “So, let’s go.”
There was no sense arguing. Ben didn’t want to anyway. He’d come outside to make sure Chloe was okay and to satisfy his curiosity. He’d accomplished the first. The second would take a little more time. Maybe a lot more time.
That was something Ben didn’t have.
Much as he loved his job, being a pastor was more than a full-time commitment. Opal’s opinion about a pastor needing a wife aside, Ben had no room for anything more in his life. That was why he planned to put Chloe Davidson and her sad-eyed smile out of his mind.
Planned to.
But he knew enough about life, enough about God, to know that his plans might not be the best ones. That sometimes things he thought were too much effort, too much time, too much commitment, were exactly what God wanted. Only time would tell if Chloe was one of those things.
He pushed open the reception hall door, allowing Chloe and Opal to step in ahead of him. Light, music, laughter and chatter washed over him, the happy excitement of those in attendance wrapping around his heart and pulling him in.
“Ben!” Hawke Morran stepped toward him, dark hair pulled back from his face, his scar a pale line against tan skin.
Ben grabbed his hand and shook it. “Things went well.”
“Of course they did. I was marrying Miranda. Thank you for doing the ceremony. And for everything else. Without your help we might not be here at all.” The cadence to his words, the accent that tinged them, was a reminder of where he’d grown up, of the life he’d lived before he’d come to the States to work for the DEA, before he’d been set up and almost killed. Ben had met him while he was on the run, offered the help Hawke needed, and forged a friendship with him.
“There’s no need to thank me. I was glad to help.”
“And I’m glad to have made a friend during a very dark time.” He smiled, his pale gaze focused on his wife.
“Are you returning to Thailand for your honeymoon?”
“We are. I want
