But that wasn’t his real reason for questioning the wisdom of his decision to visit Serenity, was it? He immediately pictured Belinda. They’d had some really good times together. On her eighteenth birthday she’d snuck away to spend the afternoon at the river with him. Her auburn hair was longer back then, with golden highlights glistening in the sun, and she’d pinned it up because the weather was so hot and sticky.
They’d walked beside the slow-flowing water, pausing in the shade to share a tender kiss. Paul remembered her wide, innocent, blue eyes looking at him as if he were the perfect man. Faint freckles had dotted her pale skin.
She’d wrinkled her nose and made a silly face, pleading with him. “Come on. It’s just a picnic. Please? Promise you’ll go with me?”
“A church picnic,” Paul had said.
“So? Daddy won’t bite.”
“I’m not so sure. He didn’t look real pleased when I sat down next to you last Sunday.”
She giggled. “I know. Wasn’t he funny? It was like he preached his whole sermon right to you.”
“Yeah. I noticed.” Paul grimaced. “I felt like a bug under a microscope.”
Belinda slipped her arms around his waist and stepped into his embrace. “I’m so sorry. That was partly my fault. When Daddy asked me why I was spending so much time with you, I told him I was trying to get you converted.”
“I don’t need saving,” Paul recalled telling her. Back then, he’d seriously considered walking the aisle some Sunday just to please her and make points with her father. Fortunately, he’d decided there was no way he could fake salvation, any more than he could convince the sanctimonious residents of Serenity that he was just as good as they were.
Pensive, he sighed. Funny how things had worked out. His father had ruined his own life by making lousy choices, had left the stigma of a convicted arsonist on his only son and had seen to it that they stayed ostracized by living a transient, antisocial life.
Yet it was that same miserable existence that had made Paul so determined to succeed, to earn enough money to change his lifestyle and make himself into someone entirely different. A professional man people could look up to. Respect.
And that strategy had worked until he’d faced Belinda Carnes again and sensed her continuing distrust. He’d hoped she’d give him some sign that she might be willing to forgive and forget. Maybe even take up where they’d left off. After her clear rebuff today, however, he knew better.
Innocent until proven guilty didn’t apply to him. Not in Serenity. Belinda obviously still blamed him for setting fire to her father’s church. Chances were, so did almost everybody else in town, even if they didn’t have the guts to say so to his face.
Paul’s jaw muscles tightened, and his forehead furrowed. He didn’t care what the others thought of him, but Belinda’s opinion mattered. A lot. Whether they ever got back together or not, it was imperative that he prove to her he’d been innocent of any wrongdoing.
He sure wished he knew how he was going to do that.
Chapter Two
Belinda smiled and waved when she saw Sam Barryman’s sporty red Camaro pulling into her driveway at precisely nine-thirty on Sunday morning. It was hard to remember exactly when Sam had started taking her to church. He hadn’t asked. He’d simply begun showing up. For the past six or eight months she’d accepted his presence without question. This morning, however, she found it strangely annoying.
Tall, blond and athletic, the doctor bounded up the front steps to her house and held the door open for her. “Good. You’re on time. I’m glad to see my suggestions worked.”
“I beg your pardon?” Belinda wrinkled her brow.
“My suggestions. About getting you organized,” he said, ignoring her negative expression. “Can’t have my future wife running around being late all the time.”
Belinda couldn’t decide which assumption she wanted to object to first. Having spent the past few days soul-searching, she decided on the farthest-reaching one. “I told you, Sam. We’re good friends. There’s no reason to spoil a great relationship by getting married.”
“So you say.” He slipped his arm around her waist and escorted her down the porch steps, not letting go until they reached his car. As he opened the passenger door for her he said, “If you weren’t such a prude we could be having a lot more fun right now, though.”
Belinda rolled her eyes. “We’ve been over and over this subject, Sam. It’s not open to discussion.”
Chuckling, he circled the car and slid behind the wheel. “Okay. But I’m not going to wait for you forever.”
“I’ve never asked you to wait for me at all. That was your idea.”
“Because you’re worth it.” He flashed her a toothpaste smile and reached over to pat her hand as he drove. “All I have to do is figure out how to make you wake up and realize I’d be the perfect husband for you.”
Belinda wanted to refute his claim but something held her back. Was it possible Sam was right? Could she be making a terrible mistake? It was conceivable. Sam was a nice enough person, and according to her late father she’d never shown good judgment where men were concerned.
Lost in thought she smoothed the skirt of her silky teal blue dress, admiring the beautiful fabric. The dress was one of her favorites, even though Sam had admitted he didn’t care for it. He preferred she wear tailored outfits in more subdued colors, especially when she accompanied him to Chamber dinners or other business functions. She didn’t really mind.
When it came to attending church, however, she wanted to feel uplifted, joyful. Bright colors helped her do that. So did singing. When the organ, piano and choir voices filled the sanctuary with heavenly music, she was transported to a time of carefree childhood, when her family had been intact and she hadn’t imagined she’d one day feel so alone. So abandoned. So…
Oh, stop! Belinda ordered in disgust. You’re being ridiculous. You have much more to be thankful for than a lot of people do. You should be ashamed of yourself.
She truly was ashamed. After all, she still had Eloise and a whole church-full of dear friends, not to mention the other people in Serenity who cared about her. It was a wonderful place. Even with its small town politics and petty rivalries it beat living in a big city, where most neighbors didn’t even know each other’s names. Or care to learn them.
Sam’s voice jarred her reverie as he wheeled the Camaro into the church parking lot. “Well, we’re here. What are you thinking about? You looked awfully serious just now.”
“Serenity,” Belinda said, smiling. “The town, not the frame of mind. Sometimes I can hardly believe how perfect this place is.”
“Hold that thought,” he teased. “It’s excellent PR for the Chamber of Commerce.”
“I know.” She looped her purse strap over one arm, cradled her Bible and got out. “Remember that the next time I ask for a raise.”
“I will.” As they started for the large, redbrick church he offered her his arm, waited until she took it, then leaned closer to add, “Of course, if you were my wife, you wouldn’t have to worry about working.”
Belinda decided it was wisest to treat his comment lightly. She batted her lashes, gazed at him melodramatically and said, “Oh, sugar pie, you mean I’d get to stay home with all twelve of our kids?”
Sam’s resulting chuckle sounded more like choking than laughing.