“Thanks, Garrett. I’ll put the sled in the shed later.” She slipped out of the old coat and hung it on a peg of the knotty pine–walled room. “Would you like to come in for a cup of cocoa? Or I could fix coffee.”
In all honesty, she didn’t want to invite him in. The less she saw of Garrett or any other old acquaintances during her brief stay here, the better. She needed time alone to work through things—the aching loss of Anton’s recent death—and to make decisions for her professional future. Time to privately commemorate the loss of an unborn life. This use-it-or-lose-it vacation forced on her at the end of the year couldn’t be better timed. But the introspective hours she craved could too easily be aborted if she didn’t guard them closely.
“Thanks for the invitation, but I have to get back to...” His uncertain gaze darted to hers as his voice trailed off.
What was with him tonight? Garrett in his youth had never been one to act unsure of himself or beat around the bush. “Get back to what? Your female fan club?”
Everything used to come easy to him. Athletics, schoolwork, making friends—and girlfriends. She used to give him a hard time about the latter, masking her own supersized crush.
His mouth twitched. “Believe me, no fan club these days. Actually, I need to get back to the church.”
“Picking up another load of wood for delivery?”
“Not exactly.” He cast a look upward as if appealing to the Heavenly realms. “I have to finish my sermon for tomorrow.”
“Sermon?” She laughed, Grady’s remark finally making sense. “You got roped into delivering a message at the old family church, didn’t you? Garrett, whatever were you thinking?”
He ducked his head slightly, then looked up at her with one eye squinted. “I’m thinking that as the pastor of Christ’s Church of Hunter Ridge, that’s one of my responsibilities.”
What? “Come on, tell me another one.”
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “As impossible as it may sound—and believe me, some days it probably seems more impossible to me than it does to you—I’m degreed in church ministry and have been interim pastor here for the past year.”
She stared. He wasn’t joking. His cousin hadn’t been joking.
“Wow, Garrett.”
He chuckled, no doubt in reaction to the stunned look on her face. “Yeah, wow.”
“This is...is quite a stretch. I mean,” she quickly amended, “a turnaround.”
As they’d progressed from Sunday school days to youth group teen years, he’d become increasingly restless, adventurous, more prone to risk-taking. A party boy who’d enthusiastically indulged a wild streak, he’d certainly never anchored himself to anything spiritual, let alone God.
But then, she couldn’t exactly point fingers...
“Which goes to prove—” his smile widened “—that God’s still in the business of transforming lives.”
“When did— How?” She never would have expected anything like this. Not in a million years.
He shrugged. “Looking back, God’s been dogging me at least since my first rafting trip on the Colorado when He really opened my eyes to the beauty and intricacy of His creation. Unfortunately, I wasn’t willing to listen until about five years ago.”
He was serious. This was for real.
“I’m sorry I laughed, Garrett. I was just so—”
“Shocked? Don’t feel bad. My family, except for Mom and Grandma Jo, still isn’t quite sure what to make of it. Some church members who knew ‘the me that was’ haven’t bought into it, either.”
She couldn’t help but continue to stare at him. “This is amazing.”
“That it is.” He took a step back. “As usual, though, time’s gotten away from me this week and my Sunday message awaits. But maybe we could get together while you’re in town. Catch up.”
She didn’t want to catch anybody up on her life outside Hunter Ridge. Things she wasn’t proud of. Wounds that had yet to heal. A faith that was currently so wobbly it wasn’t funny. “Let’s see how it goes, okay? There’s lots to do to get this place ready to sell.”
“You’ll be at the worship service tomorrow?”
Not eager to interact with those who might remember her—or to see young mothers with their precious little ones—she hadn’t planned to go. But having laughed at him, expressed such blatant disbelief, might Garrett take a refusal the wrong way?
“You can count on it.”
“See you there then.” Eyes smiling, he lifted his hand in a parting wave as he stepped off the side porch. “Ten thirty.”
A few strides away, he halted in his tracks as if he’d thought of something he’d forgotten to say. Maybe he wanted to offer her a ride to church? Then apparently changing his mind, he tramped on through the falling snow.
Almost dazed, she stood at the door watching as he disappeared into the darkness. Garrett McCrae. A pastor. A heavy weight settled into the region of her heart as she closed and bolted the door.
Sorry to point this out, Lord, but your timing stinks.
She’d barely turned off the porch light and entered the kitchen when the door rattled from a firm pounding knock.
When she turned on the light and reopened the door, there stood Garrett once again.
“What did you forget?”
“Actually...” He paused as though undecided as to how to proceed. Totally un-Garrett-like. Then he plunged on. “I need to ask you something.”
Oh, please, don’t say anything about that night. The night he’d made it clear his little tomboy pal didn’t meet his standards for female companionship.
“I know you have to get this place cleaned up, but what if I helped? Recruited others to help?” His gaze now met hers in open appeal. “Do you think, then, that you might have time to oversee a church Christmas project while you’re here?”
Was he kidding?
“I don’t think there’s much left to do,” he hurried on, “but my office assistant who stays on top of it all year had a family emergency and can’t follow through. All afternoon I beat the bushes to find a replacement, but came up empty-handed. Unless things have changed, though, you have more organizational ability in your little finger than most have in their whole body.”
He gazed at her with hopeful eyes as she tried to make sense of what he was saying.
“You want me to take on a church project while I’m here?”
“Oversee it. You wouldn’t have to do all the work. I imagine Melody has it well in hand. But none of the other volunteers feel confident
