it isn’t the same, and we do have confidence in you,” Reverend Burns said gently. “Don’t let the human failings of some of God’s servants take your eyes and trust off Him. And seek His plan for your life, dear, not your own. I very much fear that is what you’ve been doing all along.” He held up his hand to stop her automatic defense. “I’m not saying your call to the ministry wasn’t real. I’m saying that maybe He has something for you that you’re blind to. I don’t know what His plan is, but for now, why not do the job He’s sent you and see what comes of it?”
Justine nodded jerkily, trying to hold back the emotions that surged in her. She could see the wisdom in his words, but following his advice would be a challenge.
“Excuse me, Reverend Clemens. Reverend Burns.” A deep voice interrupted her struggle for composure. “I wonder if I might have a word with you before the kids descend on us.”
Past hurts and new ones flew out of Justine’s mind when she followed the sound of that husky voice to a point just over her head.
It was him.
At five foot ten, she wasn’t used to looking up at many people. At least, not as far as she had to look up right now. She found herself snared by eyes an even deeper brown than her own. They were nearly obsidian.
For weeks she’d seen Matthew Trent around town and in church, and now she had a voice to put with that hauntingly handsome face. A dangerous combination of tall, dark and gorgeous, he was the new chief of police, and he distracted Justine every time she noticed him. Once, even in the middle of a sermon!
No man had ever affected her the way he did. No man had ever taken her eyes off her ministry, or made her heart pump harder with the simple sound of his voice. She watched as Reverend Burns turned to him with a friendly smile.
“Chief Trent, what can we do for you?”
“Actually, I wondered if one or both of you might be able to give me a little advice regarding a sixteen-year-old and trouble.”
Reverend Burns held up his hand. “No time like the present to bow to the younger generation. I’ll leave you to Justine’s wisdom. There’s a reason we hired her and this is it.”
“But you know I still rely on your guidance,” she protested, slightly alarmed at the thought of being alone with Matthew Trent. Justine took a fortifying breath, trying to still her pounding heart. What was wrong with her? They were in a room with more than a hundred people. Instead of protesting further, she forced a smile and nodded toward some empty tables in the far corner of the reception room.
“Would you mind sitting, Chief Trent?” she asked, hoping that with a table between her and the former FBI agent she would feel less distracted and intimidated by him. Calm and cool, he clearly didn’t experience any of the terrifying feelings in her presence that she felt in his.
“Please. Make it Matt,” he said, and moved toward the nearest empty table.
She was tempted not to respond in kind, wanting the distance her ministerial title gave her, but she knew that wouldn’t be right. Trying to ignore Matthew Trent’s blatant masculinity, Justine followed him to the table he’d chosen.
“Is this okay, Reverend Clemens?” He pulled out a chair for her at a table away from the others. “I don’t want anyone to overhear and guess who we’re talking about.”
She smiled at that. Did he really think she didn’t already know who the misdirected teen was? “Call me Justine and tell me what Alan Tobridge has done now.”
He grimaced. “Am I that obvious?”
“No. But Alan is.” Justine grinned. “Unfortunately, I can relate to exactly what he’s going through. You haven’t been here very long, but you’ll eventually hear about my own rebellious years.”
Matt chuckled. “What did you do? Cover your bible in bright purple? Wear red to church?”
Justine tried to ignore the tingle the low timber of his quiet laughter chased along her spine. “No,” she said, distracted and strangely drawn to this man who was so concerned for someone else’s child. “But I do remember having red and purple liberty spikes once upon a time.”
“Liberty spikes?”
She grinned, suddenly relishing the opportunity to burst his stereotype bubble, though she usually cringed at talk of her turbulent youth. “First you take white glue, then you grab sections of hair…” She pulled a piece of hair straight out to the side to illustrate. Grinning, she tilted her head, leaving a long silence.
He broke it with a groan. “How could you say something like that to a man raising three daughters all by himself? I mean, you’re a minister. If you pulled stunts like that, I’m doomed.”
She’d observed him with his daughters. It was easy to see the love and affection within his family. “Sorry, I just couldn’t resist. What I’m getting at is, I think Alan and I have a few things in common. My mother forgot I was alive most of the time.” Justine let her gaze survey the party before making eye contact with Matthew Trent. “Arlene and Jeffrey Tobridge aren’t bad people, but they’ve bought heavily into relative morality. They let Alan do whatever he wants. If it feels good, it’s okay. When he makes bad choices, they go to bat for him to get him out of trouble. My kid, right or wrong.”
Matthew nodded. “I don’t think he’s a bad kid. I think he’s trying to get their attention and their love. When they came to the station last night to pick him up, you could almost see the kid begging them to say they couldn’t condone his behavior. But they have every intention of having the flower beds he destroyed up at the Lighthouse B & B replaced professionally. They’ve also offered to pay for the bracelet he walked off with from The Quest last week. Plus they’ve already arranged to have the library cleaned after he let that skunk loose in there.”
Matt sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. “I know Judge Howard is going to go along with more parental restitution. And it isn’t going to stop the way Alan’s acting out. Charles Creasy held the parents responsible when he had my job and the judge always agreed with him. In a way they are, but— I don’t even know why I’m bothering you about this.” He frowned looking troubled. “Yes, I do. Do you have any idea how I stop this kid? Somebody’s going to get hurt and he’s going to ruin his life trying to prove his parents really do love him. What got you out of liberty spikes?”
Justine’s eyes were on the senior pastor as he chatted with an engaged couple, and she smiled. “Reverend Burns talked me out of my spikes and into the church. He convinced me I was only hurting myself—and I was. Nobody suffered but me if I skipped school, or dyed my hair some outrageous color, or smoked or stayed out all night. As I said, my mother barely knew I was around. But Alan is hurting others in trying to get his parents to put the brakes on his antics. I tried stopping him on the street after the library incident, but it was no go.” She leaned forward. “So I have another idea. Unfortunately, you’d have to supervise him, and I’d need to get Russ and Annie Mitchard to agree. After all, he hurt them when he stole the bracelet from Russ’s shop and destroyed Annie’s beautiful flower beds. I think Alan needs to see how his actions affect his victims by working off his debts to them.” She relaxed against the back of her chair. “The Mitchards’ feelings need to be taken into account, though. They may not want to deal with him.”
Matthew Trent’s eyes widened and he nodded. “What an insightful idea. I have no problem supervising the kid, but who’s
