she could, Holly explained all that had happened in the last month. If his expression was an indication, Shawn McDowell wasn’t buying any of it.
“Do you expect me to believe all this is on the level?”
“As strange as it may sound, I do.”
“And you also want me to believe you’re a church librarian?”
“Normally, I hardly wear makeup at all.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “My hair’s dark auburn, and I wear glasses.”
A slow grin started in his eyes. “A sort of female Clark Kent, huh?”
She returned his smile and glanced down at her Bible. “Yeah.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“Your brother said you would fill in for him while he’s—out of pocket. The trouble is, I don’t know what he was supposed to do…besides take my phone calls and escort me around town.”
“Phone calls, I can do. I’ll check with my brother to learn my other duties.”
“Then you’re willing to help me?”
His grin held a trace of amusement. “I’ll do whatever I can.”
“Oh, thank you, Dr. McDowell.”
“Shawn.”
“You can’t imagine how much I appreciate this. But if you don’t mind, please call me Suzann.” Her laugh held a nervous undertone. “I’m supposed to be an actress. Isn’t that a riot?”
“I don’t know. I think you’re doing a pretty good job of it. You managed to convince me to go along with your plan, didn’t you?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to put you out like this.”
“Don’t be sorry.” His smile caused Holly’s heart to skip a beat “I think I might learn to enjoy it.”
Suzann reclined on the blue couch in Holly’s living room. Since Josh drove her back to the apartment, she’d had a constant string of guests—concerned church members—bearing covered dishes of food. She appreciated their kindness, but she just wanted to be alone and get some sleep.
She’d tried her best to pay attention to her current visitor. For almost half an hour, Mrs. Henrietta Beesley had talked endlessly about her single nephew from Dallas.
“He’s a preacher, you know,” she’d said, “and a church librarian would be perfect for someone like him.”
Mrs. Beesley rattled on. Suzann wondered what she was going to do with all that food; the dishes covered the kitchen table. Part would fit in the refrigerator. Some might go in the freezer. She had no idea what to do with the rest.
Maybe she would give it to Josh Gallagher. After all, he was the one who must have spread the word around that she was ill.
Mrs. Beesley picked up her empty dessert plate and leaned toward the coffee table that separated them. She’d placed the chocolate cake she had brought directly in front of her and had already had two slices.
“I must say, this is the best cake I’ve ever made.” She grinned sheepishly. “Would you mind terribly if I had another piece?”
“Not at all.” Suzann choked back a laugh. “Help yourself.”
The older woman cut a slice of cake. The doorbell rang.
The mere thought of facing anymore covered dishes made Suzann feel sick to her stomach. She cherished the concern and kindness of the church members she’d met. But enough was enough. She got up off the couch and crept to the door.
Josh Gallagher stood on the front porch, holding a paper bag. “How are you feeling?” He reached in the sack and pulled out a can of chicken soup. “How does soup and crackers sound to you?” he asked. “I’m buying.”
She was surprised at how happy she was to see him. “Hi, Josh. Come in. Mrs. Beesley’s here,” she added with a nod toward the older woman—seated on the couch.
An embarrassed smile surfaced on Josh’s handsome face. “Glad to see you, Mrs. Beesley,” he said. “How’s the back?”
Mrs. Beesley joined Suzann at the door. “Oh, Brother Gallagher.” Eyes fluttering, the older woman pressed her hands together excitedly. “How kind of you to ask.” Her bubbly expression faded, and she placed her right hand to the small of her back. “I’ve really been in a lot of pain lately.”
Suzann focused her gaze on Josh as he listened intently to Mrs. Beesley describe her ailments. Casually, he turned to Suzann.
“Miss Harmon looks tired,” Josh said to Mrs. Beesley. “Why don’t we put away the food and let her get some rest?” He grinned at Suzann. “We’ll lock the door on our way out.”
Suzann hadn’t meant to actually go to sleep. But that was an exceptionally downy couch. She drifted off in seconds.
When she opened her eyes, the telephone was ringing. She sat up. Someone had covered her with a blue, patchwork quilt. What a sweet thing to do, she thought. A smile played on her lips as she reached for the telephone.
“Hello?”
“Hi,” Josh said. “How was the soup?”
“Soup?”
“The soup Mrs. Beesley and I left warming in your oven. Didn’t you see my note?”
“Not yet, I just woke up.”
She glanced out the double windows facing the street. It was already dark outside. She looked down for her watch and realized she wasn’t wearing it.
“What time is it, anyway?” she asked.
“Six-thirty.”
“I must have really slept.”
“Apparently. Didn’t you hear all that racket when the thunderstorm passed through?”
“Not a thing.”
“So far, we’ve had almost half an inch of rain.”
“Really?”
She knew he hadn’t called to give her a weather report. Though she liked talking to him, she wished he would get to the point.
“Do you mind if I stop by and give you that music I promised?” he asked. “I ran it off on the machine here at the church a few minutes ago.”
She wanted him to drop by, but…
“I’ll just stay a minute,” he added. “I’m headed for a movie, and you’re on my way.”
Did he have a date for the evening? It bothered her to realize that he might. The fact that she cared one way or the other worried her still more.
“What
