left?” Chloe stood, disbelieving, on the scorched grass near the twisted rubble that had been the church. Her parents had been married here when her father was just a young seminarian. She’d been baptized here and confirmed, as well. When her mother had died, the funeral service had been held at the church. Afterward, all the ladies of the parish had contributed mountains of food for the reception.
She’d always assumed that someday she would walk down the aisle on her father’s arm to her waiting groom. Her eyes burned at the thought, but she fiercely shook away the tears. A church is not the building where worship occurs, she told herself. A church is all the people who worship God together.
Thanks to Thad, no part of the true church had been lost. It was a test of faith to make herself believe that, as she mourned for the loss of the building before which she stood. The structure had been reduced to an impassable, jumbled mound of brick, blackened wiring and ash. Fire following the initial explosion had quickly decimated anything that remained, including her car and Thad’s truck, which had been parked directly in front of the building. Thank Heaven the church had been set well away from the street in the middle of an enormous lot. Even so, she’d been informed that only the quick actions of the fire company had prevented the fire from spreading to surrounding buildings. Yellow tape completely encircled the jumbled mess, prohibiting the public from getting too close.
“I’m sorry, honey.” Her father put a comforting arm around her. “The fire chief said everything would be too smoke and water damaged to salvage. Let me take you home to rest.”
“Everything...everything is gone. I still can’t believe it.”
Reverend Miller shuddered. “I can. I was four blocks away when it blew, and it felt like it was right next door. The vibration knocked Mrs. Murphy’s knickknacks right off the shelves. I thank God you weren’t in there.”
Thank Thad, you mean, she thought. Thinking of who had dragged her out dampened her spirits even more. A sob pushed its way into her throat, and she swallowed it, fiercely narrowing her eyes to prevent threatening tears from falling. She was in shock, overly emotional, that was all. It had nothing to do with Thad Shippen.
He hadn’t even stuck around to see if she was all right. When she’d regained consciousness, her first question to her father had been about Thad. He’d assured her that Thad was all right, that he’d been treated for minor burns and bruises and released already. Tears threatened again, and she swallowed hard, willing them away as her father escorted her back to his car and headed home.
She had no business mooning over Thaddeus Shippen. He might have rescued her, but deep down he wasn’t a gentleman, and she had firsthand experience to prove it.
Laying her head against the back of the seat, Chloe let her mind drift back to her first days home in Geiserville after her graduation from the all-girls Christian college where she’d received her teaching degree. Coming home to live hadn’t been easy after having her freedom for four years. It wasn’t that she’d been wild or undisciplined, but she wasn’t used to having to explain where she would be every time she walked out the front door.
Then, only weeks after she’d come home, the church secretary had resigned when a brother who lived on the West Coast had a stroke. Dear Elizabeth, who had served the church faithfully for over twenty years, went to California to nurse her brother, and Chloe had agreed when her father had asked her to fill the position on a temporary basis until the elders could find a suitable replacement.
Chloe had intended to use the summer to begin preparations for the preschool she hoped to open. Instead, weeks dragged on into months, and not much was said about hiring another secretary. Each time she mentioned it to her father, he told her how capably she had filled Elizabeth’s shoes and how lucky they were to have her.
One day she had been filing documents when one of the elders walked out of her father’s office. “Let me be the first to welcome you officially. I’m delighted to hear you’re going to be staying,” the man had said.
Chloe stared at him, wondering if he was speaking to the right person.
“Er...staying where?”
“Why, here at the church.” Mr. Barlow beamed. “Your father just told me that you will be glad to continue working as the secretary, and I don’t mind telling you how pleased I am. I’m sure there will be no problem making it official. You have filled Elizabeth’s shoes so capably we’ve barely noticed she’s gone.” The man reached for her hand and shook it enthusiastically. “Couldn’t have worked out better, could it? You have a good day now.”
As the elder sailed out of the office, Chloe turned her head and stared at her father’s closed door for a moment before starting across the room. She felt like screaming, like throwing something, but she forced herself to turn the knob and step into the inner office without slamming the door behind her.
“Hello, dear. I didn’t hear you knock.” Her father glanced up from his desk.
“That’s because I didn’t.”
At her tone, Reverend Miller’s bushy white eyebrows lifted. “What’s the matter, Chloe?”
“Daddy...” She was so angry she was shaking. “No one asked me to fill the secretary’s position permanently. Why did you tell Mr. Barlow I’d accepted?”
Her father pushed his chair back from his desk and spread his hands. “Why, honey, I thought you’d be pleased. It’s a measure of how well you’ve done that the committee is eager to have you here permanently.”
“I spent four years training to teach. Just because I can do this well doesn’t mean I want to.”
Her father sighed. “This is my fault, I guess. If you want to be mad at somebody, be mad at me. I’ve been selfish. I missed you while you were away at school. Your lonely old father’s been a happy man since you came home again, and we made such a good team I just forgot you weren’t wild about the idea.”
Chloe struggled with the guilt his words evoked. Oh, she recognized manipulation when she heard it, but it was hard to resist, coming from her own father. Resentment rose, as well. Every time they disagreed, her father undermined her anger with his apologies and his gently worded reasoning. Even though she knew his feelings were genuine, she still disliked the way he always made her feel like she was the one who should apologize.
“Well, I’m not wild about the idea,” she said, not caring if her voice was sharp. “Whether or not I’ve liked working with you isn’t the issue. What I want to do with the rest of my life is.” She turned and walked out of the inner office, closing the door behind her. Picking up her purse, she started for the main door.
Her father’s door opened behind her. “Where are you going? It’s past lunchtime.”
“I’m taking the rest of the day off,” she had said without stopping or turning around. “I need to think about what I want to do with the rest of my life.”
On Tuesday afternoon, Chloe closed the drawer of the desk at which she sat. The local business and community associations had worked long hours to arrange help for the burned-out parishioners over the weekend.
By Monday, another local church had offered to change their times of worship so that Reverend Miller’s congregation could use their facilities on Sundays. A temporary office had been located rent free in an empty storefront on Main Street. An assortment of donated office furniture had been used to furnish it, and she even had a computer and a copier with a fax machine on loan from an office equipment firm.
She’d spent the day doing little but checking the disks she’d saved from the explosion, purchasing necessary supplies and planning how to reestablish an office routine. It was 4:30 p.m. now, the time the office closed, and she was so exhausted she could hardly wait to lock the door and go home.
But first she had something she had to do.
In the parking lot, she climbed into the rental car she’d picked up on Saturday. Before setting her purse