reception at Kit’s last night. I’d stayed here late to polish up my sermon notes, so I missed out.”
“She’ll be here for a month. I’m sure you’ll get your opportunity.” But don’t say anything to her you don’t want to see in her blog. Jake held up the bulletins, not eager to continue a conversation about Macy. “I’d better get to my post.”
He tucked his Bible under his arm and stationed himself on the sidewalk between the parking lot and main entrance to the native-stone building set back in the pines. The air was pleasantly cool and pine scented but, typical of springtime snows, yesterday’s frosty deposit had all but melted away. Only traces remained in the most deeply shaded areas.
Jake raised his hand in greeting at the approaching Diaz family, a pang of envy reverberating as he watched second-grader Davy proudly grasp the hand of his father and that of his very pregnant stepmother. Joe had announced at the church’s Thanksgiving feast last fall that he and his wife, high school teacher Meg, had a baby conveniently timed to arrive when the spring semester concluded.
“Good to see you, Joe.” Jake shook his friend’s hand. “You, too, Meg.”
The perky brunette rolled her eyes. “There’s a lot more of me to see than there used to be.”
Jake grinned and ruffled Davy’s hair, then watched thoughtfully as the family entered the building. Father and son bonds—that’s something he didn’t know much about firsthand from either the father or son standpoint.
“Jake!”
He turned to see Paris Perslow approaching from the education wing. A dark-haired young woman with smoke-gray eyes, Paris was the epitome of class. Elegance.
This morning she was dressed in a cranberry wool jacket, matching skirt and black heels, reminding him why in recent days he’d given serious consideration to asking her out. She’d make a perfect partner for a man in public office. Active in social and charitable organizations, she had an impeccable reputation. They had much in common, too, as descendants of the town’s most respected residents. Most important, he couldn’t imagine her ever betraying a trust. Only the fact that a sadness still lingered in her eyes from the death of her fiancé several years ago had held him back.
But maybe it was time to help her—and himself—move on?
“Good morning, Paris.”
She smiled that gracious smile of hers, but before he could tell her how lovely she looked, something behind him caught her attention. With a soft gasp of delight, her delicate eyebrows lifted. “That’s her, isn’t it?”
Her?
He followed Paris’s riveted gaze toward the parking lot. Don James, fellow councilman and brother of Larry, had arrived with his family and he was holding open the vehicle’s door for none other than Macy Colston. Wearing a trim, belted, turquoise dress, a white sweater draped over her shoulders, she glowed with eagerness as her gaze swept her surroundings.
He should have known Macy wouldn’t miss church. While she hadn’t grown up in a believing family and had had her share of faith struggles, by the time he’d met her as a senior in college she’d made that life-changing decision.
“It is the Hometowns with Heart woman.” Paris moved forward, excitement now lighting her eyes. “Did you see her blog this morning with the adorable snowman? Come on, Jake, let’s go meet her.”
When he held back, she turned, her gaze questioning. Then she laughed. “You’ve already met her haven’t you? I forgot as a city councilman you have a front row seat to welcome incoming celebrities.”
Like Canyon Springs got many of those.
“Yeah, I’ve met her.” Over Paris’s shoulder he could see Macy heading toward the church, Don’s two grade school-aged grandchildren hopping along beside her and chatting excitedly. They wouldn’t be readers of her blog, but apparently someone had conveyed that she wasn’t your average church service visitor.
Behind Macy’s back, a curly-haired Don grinned at him like a kid who’d been let in on a big secret. He nodded knowingly toward the pretty blonde, signaling with a thumbs-up.
Jake frowned.
“Oh, don’t be grumpy.” Paris, having missed Don’s antics behind her, grasped his arm and tugged gently. “Introduce me properly so she doesn’t think I’m only another rabid fan.”
He needed to speak to Macy in private, not in a superficial social setting with Don clowning around in the background. But gazing into Paris’s hope-filled eyes, what other choice did he have?
* * *
The moment she stepped from the SUV, Macy spotted Jake with the stylishly dressed woman and her heart inexplicably lurched. No, he didn’t wear a ring, but her hasty conclusion that there was no one special in his life was obviously erroneous.
Now they approached her as a couple, the smiling woman’s arm linked with Jake’s. With the older councilman’s rambunctious grandkids hanging on to her own hands, she felt at a disadvantage as the stunning female closed the ground between them.
Jake appeared uncomfortable as well, although whether from remembering how their last encounter had ended in Kit’s parking lot yesterday or because he’d neglected to mention a lady in his life, she couldn’t be sure. While the omission irritated her, she couldn’t hold it against him since she hadn’t commented on her own relationship status. Besides, other topics had dominated their heated discussion.
Thankfully, Don’s wife stepped forward to pry the hands of her granddaughters from Macy’s, then herded the girls toward the church.
“Good morning, Macy.” Jake, looking more handsome today than yesterday, nodded a greeting. “I’d like you to meet Paris Perslow. Paris, this is Macy Colston, of Hometowns With Heart fame.”
The woman released Jake’s arm and reached out exquisitely manicured hands to grasp Macy’s. “I know you’ve probably heard this a million times, but your blog almost makes me feel as if I know you, Macy.”
This sophisticated-looking woman read her blog? That must annoy Jake to no end considering he’d voted against bringing its host here. Had he told her about their regrettable past relationship? If she had an awareness of shared history between her man and Macy, Paris’s serene expression didn’t reveal any telltale signs.
“It’s always wonderful to be welcomed like an old friend wherever I go.” Macy avoided Jake’s gaze, concerned his lady friend might pick up on it if she gave him a too-pointed stare. “That’s one of the joys of my blog.”
“I can’t believe you’re here in Canyon Springs. I’ve been reading your posts for years.” Paris smiled up at Jake. “Remember that rhubarb cobbler you couldn’t get enough of at the Labor Day picnic last year? It’s a recipe Macy shared from a quaint Ozark restaurant.”
Labor Day. So they’d been together for a while. Macy forced a smile. “I loved that place. It had the best barbecue I think I’ve ever tasted.”
“It was back in the trees along a creek, wasn’t it? A feisty black gal who’d once been a New York City chef ran it.”
Macy laughed. “You remember all that?”
“I’m a faithful reader.” Paris leaned in as if confiding in an old acquaintance. “Probably half the town is. Even more, I’m sure, once it was announced you were coming.”
“Ladies.” Jake tapped the face of his watch. “It’s nearing time for the worship service to start and I still have a handful of these.”
He lifted a stack of church bulletins.
Still smiling, Paris patted his arm. “Then why don’t you run on ahead and take care of business. We’ll join you later.”
From the mildly surprised look on his face, he wasn’t too keen on leaving them together. But with an indulgent nod of her head,