Lost & Found Love. Laura Browning

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СКАЧАТЬ into eyes as wide and golden as his next door neighbor’s cat. Her hair was only a shade lighter than the cat’s. This was the elusive Miss MacVie. She was tall, he noted, nearly eye-to-eye with him, and he was a shade over six feet. He smiled, but received only that shocked look in return.

      Resisting the temptation to see if he’d spilled something on himself or had a smudge of grease on his face, he held out his hand. She didn’t take it.

      “I’m Joseph Taylor.” He persevered, hoping to high heaven he didn’t blush. “Most folks call me Joe. I believe we live next door to each other.” When she still didn’t say anything, he continued. “Most of the time people say their name back to me. Have I upset you in some way?”

      Finally, as if she pulled herself out of a trance, she shook her head. “No. I’m Tabitha MacVie—Tabby.”

      He was still smiling, he realized, feeling awkward, but she had such a wary, watchful look on her face that he suspected she already knew most people called him Joe, just with Pastor with a capital P in front of it. It looked like she fit firmly in the first category of women, the ones who wanted to run like hell. “I’m sorry we didn’t meet sooner. Every time I stopped by, you were gone or it was late. It’s been a busy week.”

      She seemed to shake herself, and a myriad of emotions flickered over her face, but when warmth and hope were once more overshadowed by wariness, Joe sighed.

      “It was a busy week for me too. I’ve haven’t even had time to shop until today. Tyler brought me food the first day, and I’ve lived on that until now.”

      She had spoken to him. That was a shade better than some encounters he’d had during seminary.

      “Now I feel guilty for not making more of an effort to meet you sooner,” Joe said. “Why don’t I cook dinner for you tonight—welcome you to the neighborhood? I was going to throw a couple of burgers on the grill.”

      Her smile was regretful. He was already getting the avoid-the-pastor two-step. “I already have a dinner engagement,” she said. “Evan and Jenny Richardson.”

      Not a date. Maybe there was still hope. “You’ve met them?”

      She was wary again. He saw it in the inscrutable look blanketing her eyes, almost as veiled as a cat’s. “I met Evan yesterday.”

      He wanted to prolong their conversation, but couldn’t see any way to do so, especially when she was so obviously uncomfortable. He handed her the mac and cheese, and noticed she was careful not to touch him again. “Here. Take this. I can get a different box.”

      Joe finished shopping, berating himself the entire time for mishandling the encounter. He was also overly conscious of Tabby’s tall form gliding up and down the aisles. She wore jeans and a long-sleeved man’s shirt with the cuffs turned back. Her dark hair was pulled back into a neat braid. Heaven help him, she was beautiful. And every inch of her screamed hands off.

      He should have been more assertive. She hadn’t been rude. He’d encountered that as well from women who obviously didn’t even consider him human. She just hadn’t been encouraging.

      He finished shopping first and hurried home, careful to keep one eye on her drive as he put away his groceries. He would offer to help, that way they could talk some more. It would buy him some time.

      * * * *

      Tabby still tingled from where her hand had brushed Joe Taylor’s. For an instant, his touch had felt overwhelmingly right, a little zing of electricity that had made other parts of her zing too. She cringed at the thought. How could her own mind betray her in such a way? A preacher? She shuddered. It brought back horrible visions of her childhood. Still, Joe’s touch was different than those holier-than-thou men who had made her life hell.

      He was different with his tawny hair and warm blue eyes. Many people thought blue eyes cool, but Joe’s were as warm as a summer afternoon when the sun heated her skin and the insects buzzed lazily around the flowers. Tabby shook her head. It wouldn’t do to start spinning fantasies about her neighbor, the minister. Artists who dated ministers probably painted landscapes or kids’ portraits. Better to stay away and avoid the disillusionment.

      Up front, Tyler helped an older woman bag customers’ groceries. When he spotted Tabby, he grinned. “Hi, Miss MacVie. Mrs. Tarpley, this is Miss MacVie, the new art teacher.”

      The older woman smiled kindly. “Good morning. Welcome to Mountain Meadow. Are you settling in all right?”

      Tabby returned her smile. “Very well, thank you. Call me, Tabby, please. I really appreciate the groceries you sent over. How much do I owe you?”

      Mrs. Tarpley looked startled. “Oh, there’s no charge, dear. It’s our welcome to the community.”

      “Thank you.” As they continued to talk, Tabby carefully avoided answering most of Mrs. Tarpley’s questions. While she knew the woman was simply curious, Tabby felt she had to be cautious. Until she’d accomplished what her mother wanted, she didn’t dare arouse too much curiosity. She’d prefer not to arouse any at all.

      She drove home with the car packed. She was bent inside the hatchback looking for the frozen items when the man already occupying too much of her thoughts spoke from behind her.

      “Allow me to help.”

      Tabby bumped her head as she abruptly straightened, rubbed the bruised spot, and said, “Oh, that’s not necessary…” but Joseph Taylor had already grabbed bags and strode up the steps to her porch. She frowned, but followed, opening the door to allow him into the big, airy kitchen. She was way, way too conscious of him as he continued to bring in bags and she unpacked them. Even when he finished, he didn’t leave. Instead, he began removing things from the remaining bags and setting them on the counter, so she could decide where to put them.

      He made her nervous, but Tabby couldn’t ask him to leave. He had helped her. Besides, she had never met a man that made her insides flutter. He did. Why was that? A small, cynical voice reminded her that he would never stick around once he got to know her better. All her life people had turned tail once she had either trusted them enough to show them some of her art work, or they had discovered it on their own. Why should this man be any different?

      When they finished, she smiled tightly. “I—I have some iced tea made. Would you like a glass?”

      “I thought you’d never ask.” He grinned. “And I’d run out of groceries to unpack.”

      Her gaze slipped to his generous mouth. His grin affected her more than anything she’d seen so far. It brought out fascinating dimples in his lean cheeks. Tabby realized she was staring and spun away with a blush. She would like to paint him. Not only was he beautiful, but for the first time that she could remember, he inspired images in her mind that were warm and bright. She felt like a moth to his flame. She had to get him out of the confines of the kitchen. “We could take it out on the porch in the shade.”

      And so, a few minutes later, Tabby found herself curled up on a porch swing, sipping tea while the minister of the Baptist church sat nearby. But it was hard to think of him that way when he didn’t fit any of her previously conceived notions about what ministers should look like.

      “I appreciate your help,” Tabby said.

      Joe smiled. “But you’d like me to go home now?”

      Tabby СКАЧАТЬ