Courting Hope. Jenna Mindel

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СКАЧАТЬ Petersen’s eyes last night. There was hope for forgiveness yet. But he couldn’t rush. That had always been his problem. He rushed too much.

      “You still do everything your parents want you to?” He didn’t mean to lower his voice, but his challenge came across pretty clear if the scowl on Hope’s face was any indication.

      She still toed the family line. Always responsible, Hope had a servant’s heart that could be taken advantage of. Sinclair regretted that he’d been on the using end far too many times in the past. He remembered calling on Hope for a ride home after he’d partied too hard on summer break. He’d even asked her to pick out Christmas gifts for his mom and sister a couple years in a row. And she’d done what he’d asked because she was a giver instead of a taker like him.

      She looked at him with wide eyes. “Who do you think you are?”

      The blue of her top made her eyes an icy gray color that looked translucent. Protective and fierce. Sinclair couldn’t look away.

      The phone rang, interrupting the moment, but he ignored it. He remained focused on her. “I’ve known you longer than I haven’t.”

      “You don’t know anything.” She reached for the phone. “Three Corner Community Church, how may I help you?”

      He watched the graceful way she cradled the receiver between her chin and shoulder while she grabbed a pad of paper and a pen. He didn’t know this new Hope who appeared completely in charge. The urge to get to know her on a very personal level took him by surprise. He didn’t want this attraction to Hope. It complicated everything—but what could he do?

      “Yeah, he’s right here.” Hope caught him staring and her cheeks colored. “It’s Judy. She’s headed out of town for a couple of days and wants to know if you need anything before she goes. You can take it in your office.”

      “Here’s fine.” He sat on the edge of her desk and reached for the phone.

      Hope gave him a pointed look. She wasn’t handing over the call until he moved off of her desk.

      Without looking away, he slipped from the edge and accepted the phone. “Hey, Judy...”

      Hope peeked inside the box of scones and smiled. Finally, a glimpse of his old Hope.

      Reassuring Judy that he’d get the budget and building plans, he cut the conversation short. “I’ll be fine. Thanks. Have a safe trip.”

      He leaned forward, catching a whiff of Hope’s flowery perfume as he hung up. “I know you like scones.”

      Hope looked annoyed. Obviously pointing out her weakness for baked goods hadn’t scored him any points. She grabbed a scone and then pushed the box toward him.

      “They’re from my sister.”

      “How is Eva?” Hope took a bite.

      “Engaged.”

      Hope headed for the coffee station and grabbed a napkin. “Good for her. I didn’t see anything in the paper.”

      “It’s pretty recent. She’s marrying the guy who bought the orchard.” Sinclair followed her and helped himself to coffee.

      “I’d heard that your parents sold and moved. How are they?”

      “Here for the summer to help bring in what’s left of the harvest.” He’d returned home after severe thunderstorms had ripped through area orchards. His sister was determined to salvage a decent crop, and he’d do what he could to help.

      Hope nodded. “They must be glad you’re home.”

      “Yeah.” He bit into a scone, but the flavor was lost when he thought of his brother’s cold reception. His family had eagerly welcomed him, but not Ryan. More amends to be made. Sara Petersen had been Ryan’s fiancée.

      “Well, thank you for these.” Hope settled into her office chair with a look that said she was determined to get back to work.

      Sinclair didn’t want their conversation to end. He used to pour his heart out to her when they were kids. Breakups with girlfriends, trouble with his father, dreams about his future. He used to tell Hope everything. Back then, she’d been more than a sympathetic listener. More times than not, she’d tell him flat out that he was wrong and make him see the other side. She gave him balance.

      He didn’t feel too balanced around her today. Giving her his best pleading look, he asked, “Does this mean you’re not going to quit?”

      * * *

      Hope stared into Sinclair’s eyes and didn’t answer right away. She liked holding her employment future over his head. Even though she’d never quit, she wanted to punish him. As if it’d matter.

      She hadn’t counted on the intensity shining from his eyes and wished he’d go away already. “Not today.”

      He looked relieved. Sinclair needed her to stay.

      He needed her.

      She didn’t care for the fleeting warmth that swirled through her at the thought. Not one bit.

      He returned to the corner of her desk. “What are you working on?”

      She gave him her most intimidating glare, but he stayed put. “I’m updating our website with your bio as the new pastor.”

      “Where’d you get the information?”

      Hope kept typing. If she ignored him, maybe he’d go away. “From your résumé.”

      “Keep it short and to the point, okay?”

      Hope looked up at him then. “You want to proof this?”

      “No.”

      “Fine.” Hope waited for him to leave.

      “Okay then, good.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “We should probably have a staff meeting this week. There’s a receptionist, right? And a janitor?”

      “Both are part-time. Shannon Williams works a few hours a day and covers lunch hour phones, but her baby was sick yesterday. She and her husband also volunteer their time with the youth. Walt comes in the afternoon since he works another job in the morning. And Judy’s here every morning. But then, you probably already know that since she’s on the board and interviewed you. We’re a big ol’ staff of five, not including you.”

      “You know everyone’s schedule better than I do. Let me know when you want to meet.”

      Hope bit her lip. She’d always scheduled meetings for her previous pastor, but it wasn’t easy taking direction from Sinclair. Hope was too used to telling him no.

      When they were kids, he used to egg her on to do things she knew better than to do. Like when she was fourteen and they’d jumped off the LeNaro Bridge with inner tubes to float down the river. She’d split her lip on the air stem. Hope fingered the now tiny scar. Her parents had pitched a fit because she’d needed five stitches.

      The word no hung СКАЧАТЬ