His kind, friendly gaze looked directly at her, and she felt as if he were really seeing her, not merely giving her a polite perusal. She swallowed dryly and struggled to erase the imprint of his smile in her mind.
“What can I do for you ladies?” His voice was the low, rich bass she expected it to be. Julia had the uncomfortable notion the question was directed at her. He was looking at her, even though Lakeisha had been the one to call him over.
“Julia and I have just been discussing true love,” Lakeisha began, despite Julia’s stricken look in her direction. “We were wondering your opinion on the topic.”
Zeke laughed, and she was struck again by how genuinely friendly he appeared. “That’s an awfully big topic.”
Julia just barely restrained herself from saying that he was an awfully big man. But Lakeisha clearly captured her train of thought, and they shared an amused, meaning-filled glance.
“Let me narrow it down for you,” Julia said, deciding it was better to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, than to sit there and let Lakeisha dictate the conversation. “Do you believe there is a Mr. Right?”
Zeke slapped his palm against his broad chest. “For me, I’d have to say no.”
Lakeisha roared with laughter, and didn’t stop even when Julia pinned her with a glare.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
Zeke nodded, his amused glance sliding over Lakeisha and landing squarely on Julia. “I didn’t believe it was. I was just joshing you.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
He cleared his throat. “I know I sometimes come off gruff, because of my size….” He ground to ahalt, and then continued tentatively. “People often mistake my meaning. My humor is a little cockeyed at times.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” reminded Lakeisha, who was obviously having difficulty composing her features. “Do you believe God has one special someone out there for you?”
“One special woman,” Zeke said slowly, catching Julia’s gaze with his own. “‘This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh….’ She’s out there, Lord willing.” His voice got lower and richer with every word he spoke.
“Waiting for you?” Julia queried softly.
Zeke shook his head. “No. Not waiting for me.” He ran a hand over his beard and smiled. “Working. Serving the Lord wherever she’s at.”
Julia tried to swallow and couldn’t. Why did that sound so romantic?
“You’ll excuse me,” she said, her words tumbling one over another. “I need to go ask Father Bryan about something.”
It was true—she did need to speak to Bryan about the upcoming ad campaign at HeartBeat. So why did her words feel so much like a lie?
She hurried away from Zeke and Lakeisha as fast as she could without looking rude, glancing back only once to see Zeke following her progress with his gaze.
Flustered, she spoke to everyone she passed, trying to make up for what felt like rudeness by being extra kind to everyone she met.
When she reached Father Bryan, she laid an arm on his shoulder to get his attention, and then waited quietly while he finished his conversation with his seminary buddies.
She didn’t understand half the words they were saying, and wondered if, as a pastor’s wife, she’d have to get a seminary education herself, just to communicate with her husband.
Husband.
She glanced up at Bryan, picturing them together in her mind. Helping others, like the desperate, pregnant mothers who came into HeartBeat. Like the people in his congregation, wherever God led. Who knew what else they could accomplish?
She waited, but there was nothing. Not a single emotion.
But marriage wasn’t about emotion. Weddings might be, but she’d seen firsthand how quickly those feelings faded. Wasn’t her way better?
“Julia?” Bryan looked a little put out, and she wondered if he’d tried more than once to get a hold of her wandering attention.
“I’m sorry. I was wool-gathering.”
“Not a problem. I should be the one apologizing for making you wait.” He flashed her a toothy grin.
Julia wondered if that was what his true smile looked like.
“I just wanted to chat with you about the new ad campaign,” Julia began, though Bryan’s attention, or at least his gaze, was wandering elsewhere. “If now is a bad time…”
“Not at all.” His gaze returned to her, and he smiled squarely. “I’ve assembled some Scripture passages we can use on the brochures, but I’m still working up something for the full-page magazine ad.”
“That’s fine, but we need a mock-up of the ad by Thursday noon at the latest.”
His gaze shifted to somewhere over her left shoulder. “I’ve got class Wednesday, but I’ll try to fit it in on Tues— What is that?”
“What is what?” Disheartened by her failure to attain Bryan’s attention, never mind his interest, Julia spun around to see where he was looking.
It didn’t take long to find the source of his surprise. A dirty brown-and-white Jack Russell terrier had somehow gotten through the high fence surrounding the backyard. She knew the Martins didn’t own any animals because of their traveling, ministry lifestyle.
At first it was amusing, watching the guests’ varied reactions to the filthy animal, but it was another thing entirely to discover the poor thing was limping, favoring its left back foot. Julia wondered uneasily if a car might have hit him.
With a spontaneous spurt of sympathy, she decided she should take care of the dog herself, especially since no one else appeared to be moving.
She turned to let Bryan know she was leaving, but his attention was elsewhere. He burst into laughter.
“Well, I’ll be doggoned,” he said, shaking his head. “Literally. What a crazy mutt.”
She whirled around. To her surprise, the Jack Russell somehow launched himself into the middle of the swimming pool.
“What a joke,” Bryan said from behind her.
A joke?
Maybe, under normal circumstances. But within seconds, it was clear the dog could not swim, perhaps because of his broken leg.
He flipped over once in the middle of the pool, not making as much of a splash as Julia would have expected. And then, in a single, heart-wrenching moment, the dog’s head popped under the waves and disappeared. He sank as if he were a rock.
Panic freezing her to the spot, she croaked Bryan’s name.
But it wasn’t Bryan who came running to the poor little dog’s rescue.
It was big, burly Zeke Taylor.
In a second, he was in the pool, pulling the dog to the surface and into his arms. He hadn’t waited even to remove his steel-toed boots. He’d simply reacted.
And saved the irascible puppy, who was wagging his tail in Zeke’s arms despite being wet and wounded.
Bryan was still laughing at the sight, which raised Julia’s hackles. She guessed it was funny, from one perspective, but she could have no reaction except one—blatant and sheerly feminine admiration for Zeke Taylor.
A true hero at work.
Chapter Two