The Reluctant Bride. Kathryn Alexander

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СКАЧАТЬ followed the hostess, weaving their way around tables, small and large, toward a booth along the wall. They slid into their seats and each received a menu.

      “Would you like something from the bar?” the hostess inquired.

      “No, I don't drink,” Micah answered.

      Carole shook her head. She did not care for anything, either.

      They were assured their waitress would be along in a moment to take their orders and were left to review the menu.

      “All you need to say is, ‘No thanks,’ Micah. You don't need to tell every hostess in central Ohio that you don't drink,” Carole muttered. “Surely God doesn't expect that from you. I mean, it's not even one of the Ten Commandments. Now, tell me, why were you baking pies?”

      “For the school bake sale tomorrow. The kids are trying to raise money for a trip to Washington, D.C.”

      “Everyone? The whole school?”

      “Just the fourth and fifth grades will be going. That is, if they can raise the money.” Micah closed the menu. “I think I'll have a salad and a bowl of vegetable soup.”

      “Well, I'm starving so I'm going to have the turkey-bacon club, a side salad and… what kind of pies did you bake?”

      “Apple, but they're for the school,” Micah reminded her friend.

      “Then I suppose I'll order some dessert.”

      “Unless you want to buy one for a donation. Of course, I don't know how good they'll be. I haven't baked since last year—”

      “Christmas, maybe? Remember? You baked two pumpkin pies at the cabin that weekend?”

      “Oh, those.” Micah covered her face with a hand. “Don't remind me.”

      “They weren't that bad. We ate them.”

      “We had to. It was either that or no dessert,” Micah recalled.

      “Well they might have been better if you had used the frozen crusts like I suggested.” Carole placed her menu on the table.

      “I really wanted to bake my own pies, Carole. Taking something out of the freezer and putting it into the oven, it just doesn't seem right calling it your own.”

      “Why not? I do it every evening. Out of the freezer and into the microwave. Beef Stroganoff, chipped beef, chicken A la king…”

      “That's different.”

      “So how much for a pie? I mean, even if it's not great, at least it's a pie. There won't be anything that vaguely resembles one of those coming out of my oven in the foreseeable future. How much do you want?”

      “Six dollars?” Micah asked more than stated.

      “Sold,” was Carole's reply as the waitress approached the booth.

      With their orders placed, Micah glanced at her thin gold wristwatch. Grateful it was Friday and she had no teaching assignment today, Micah planned to spend the afternoon working on the painting she had started months ago: a little church in the country. Her long, slender fingers tucked a stray wisp of auburn hair behind her ear.

      “Do you think ‘living right’ has anything to do with having great hair?” Carole asked, her words slicing into Micah's thoughts.

      “What are you talking about?”

      “You have the natural curls I've always wanted. Is it a gift from God for being good or something like that?”

      “If I thought it would get you into church on Sunday, I'd be tempted to say ‘yes.’”

      “And tell a lie?” Carole quipped. “Surely not.”

      Several people walked past their booth, but Micah paid little attention to them. She had just picked up a bread stick from the basket on the table when she heard Carole's greeting.

      “Hello, Rob! What a pleasant surprise!”

      Rob. Micah quickly placed the bread stick on a saucer and picked up her napkin to wipe her fingers.

      “Carole? It's been a long time since I've seen you,” the distinctly male voice responded.

      “Yes, it has. You know Micah Shepherd, don't you?” Carole's words bubbled with enthusiasm as she motioned toward Micah.

      “Yes,” he replied, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. She noticed Rob's eyebrows lift as his gaze met and held hers. “We've met. How are you, Miss Shepherd?”

      Micah smiled in response. “Fine, thank you.” In some unexplainable way, she was both pleased and not pleased to see him again. So why was her heart pounding so loudly in her ears?

      “I didn't realize that you and Miss Shepherd were friends.” He spoke to Miss Zabotrowski, but his eyes remained firmly fixed upon her auburn-haired companion.

      “Would you care to join us?” Carole offered.

      Rob glanced at a nearby table. “Thank you, but I'm meeting someone for lunch, and I'm running late, as it is.”

      Micah exhaled a quiet sigh of relief before asking, “How is Mrs. Winslow?”

      “About the same.” Rob's piercing blue gaze burned through her as though silently questioning the motive for her inquiry and forcing Micah to look away. “It was nice to see you again, Carole, and you, too, Miss Shepherd.”

      Miss Shepherd. His formality iritated her, exactly the way he'd meant it to. Micah watched him turn and walk away, but not too far. He sat down at a table close by with an attractive brunette. Micah crunched into the bread stick.

      “What's with you two? Just because you're not a good witness for Old Yeller doesn't mean you and Rob can't be friendly,” Carole snapped.

      “We're not friends,” Micah replied, staring into the bowl of soup that the waitress set before her. “Mr. Granston is an attorney, I was a witness—a poor one—and that is the sum of our relationship.”

      Carole poured extra dressing over her salad. “Are you kidding? Did you see the way he looked at you? He couldn't take his eyes off you.”

      “Don't be ridiculous.”

      “It's true.” Carole lowered her voice to a healthy whisper. “It was absolutely intense.”

      “Eat your salad and mind your own business, Carole,” Micah warned softly before taking a drink from her water glass. He had looked surprised to see her again. Surprised, that was all. Wasn't it? She glanced toward the nearby table. The brunette was involved in some animated conversation, and Rob was being appropriately attentive.

      “I'm just glad he's here today, even if he is with that dark-haired beauty. When I made the reservations, I was afraid I might have been wasting my time.”

      “This was intentional?” Micah placed her spoon on the table. “You assumed Rob СКАЧАТЬ