“And…and he’s going to be older, more experienced.”
Her words scraped along an already touchy nerve.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you. I hope it will be years before I need a walker.”
She scowled harder at him. “Where else have you pastored?”
There was a knock on the front door, then a deep, booming voice called out, “Hello? Jacob, are you here?”
Saved by the cavalry. “Back here, Uncle Ben.”
Ben Campbell came down the hall. His tall frame ate up the narrow space. Younger than Leland, Ben was nearly as tall and more rugged looking. Living in the Pacific Northwest, with all the opportunities to be outdoors hiking, hunting and camping probably did that to a person. Things Jacob realized he’d have the chance to do before he returned to the city.
Ben pulled Jacob into a bear hug. “Hi there, nephew. I saw your rig out front.” For a moment the air was squeezed from Jacob’s lungs, then Ben let go and stepped back. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Uncle Ben. How’s Aunt Abby?”
“Good, good. She’s anxious to see you. You made good time.”
Jacob nodded and glanced at the wild woman standing in his bathtub. “I did. I guess I should have warned…someone I’d be here tonight.”
Following Jacob’s gaze, Ben’s dark eyebrows rose slightly. “Mara, honey. What are you doing in the bathtub?”
She waved her brush at Jacob. “You know him? He’s your nephew? Our new pastor?”
“Yes. Great nephew, actually. And yes.” Ben’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Mara Zimmer, meet Hope Community Church’s new pastor, Jacob Durand.”
Grace had mentioned something about a Mara. There couldn’t be two people with such an unusual name. Jacob’s mouth quirked as he watched her digest and finally—though he figured grudgingly—accepted his great-uncle’s words.
With much dignity, she climbed out of the tub, set down her brush, wiped her hand on her jeans and then walked directly to him with her chin held high. She stuck out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Pastor Durand. Welcome to Hope.”
“I’m here only temporarily, until a permanent pastor can be found,” he stated, wanting to make sure everyone realized he would not be staying for long.
Good manners dictated that he accept her offered hand, regardless of the fact that gooey cleanser still clung to her skin.
Their palms met, his fingers curling around her slender hand. He was afraid to squeeze for fear he’d break those fragile bones. Though her skin was rough with cleanser and hard work, her small hand fit neatly within his with surprising strength.
A strange spark traveled up his arm.
Must be an allergic reaction to the cleanser, because she certainly wasn’t his type.
He pulled his hand back and subtly wiped his palm on his denim-covered thigh. “It looks like you’re pretty much done in here, and the rest of the house looks great. Thank you, Mrs. Zimmer, I appreciate the effort.”
She tucked in her chin. “It’s Miss. And you don’t owe me a thank-you. This is my job.”
“Job?” So she wasn’t just a caring soul wanting to welcome the pastor.
“Yes, job.”
She spun on her heel and picked up a black organizer from the sink counter that he hadn’t noticed before. She flipped open the book and held it in front of her. “My schedule is as follows. I clean the church building on Mondays, which is your day off.”
That was news. “Is it?”
She glanced up. “Yes, it is.” She returned her attention to the book. “I—”
“What if I don’t want Mondays off?”
A little crease appeared between her unshaped eyebrows. “Pastor Anders always took Mondays off.”
“I’m not Pastor Anders, now am I?”
He heard his uncle make a noise, but Jacob was too interested in Miss Zimmer’s reaction. He liked the way her pert little nose flared slightly as if she smelled something distasteful.
“You can take any day of the week off. I don’t care. I clean the church on Mondays.”
“Why not Thursdays?”
Her finely sculptured jaw tightened. “I clean the church on Mondays, the cottage on Thursdays. This is the way it is done. My schedule is very tight and I need to stay on track. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t come barging in and try to change things.”
He took offense to that. “Barging in?”
It wasn’t as if he’d jumped with joy at this detour in his plans. “I don’t need you to clean the cottage while I’m here. I’m perfectly capable of picking up after myself.”
Those amber eyes sparked with indignation and a bit of desperation. “You don’t want me to clean the cottage? But I’ve always cleaned the cottage.”
Uncle Ben laid a hand on Jacob’s arm. “Go with the flow, Jacob. Let her do the job the church pays her to do.”
“Fine.” He relented, not liking the fleeting look of defeat in those magnificent eyes before she lifted her chin and haughtiness entered. “The cottage on Thursdays.”
She gave a sharp nod. “Ben, let Abby know I’ll be there tomorrow as always and if she wants the refrigerator defrosted this week to leave me a note.”
She began gathering up her supplies. “Sorry I can’t stay and chat, but I’ve a schedule to keep and the mayor’s wife is hosting a quilting bee tonight.”
Jacob and Ben stepped out of the way as she swept past them and out of the cottage, taking the buzz of energy with her.
Bone-deep exhaustion flooded through Jacob. His muscles were stiff and needed to be exercised. He’d take a long run later.
There was a slight throbbing behind his eyes. He’d driven most of the night and day with only a few stops. He hadn’t wanted to waste time. He just wanted the next few months to go by as quickly as possible.
Ben clapped him on the back as they moved into the living room. “Wow. I’ve only seen Pastor Anders take on that fireball and come out unscathed. Everyone else in town pretty much leaves Mara be. Sad story that girl has.”
Ben’s dark eyes narrowed. “You look beat. Abby will want you to come for dinner.” He checked his watch. “We’ll eat around six. That’ll give you a few hours to unwind and relax.”
“Thanks, Uncle Ben.”
After his uncle gave him directions to their house, he left, and Jacob headed straight for the phone to call his grandfather. Carol told him in her crisp, distant way that Leland was in a meeting and couldn’t be disturbed. Jacob held on to his irritation at being put off and asked to have his grandfather return his call as soon as possible.
As he hung up, it slammed into him just what Grace Stephens had said about Mara. He’d have to ask Miss Zimmer for the information he needed about Sunday services. With a groan he sank onto the couch.
So that meant he was going to have to deal closely with the wild woman who’d brandished her scrub brush so deftly. And for some reason, he actually looked forward to sparring with her.
Which didn’t make any sense, but nothing in the past few days had gone as he’d planned, so why should this be any different?
Chapter Two
A