A Time of Hope. Terri Reed

      She started the engine. “Was there something else?”

      He gave her a slow grin that she could feel all the way to her toes. “Nope.”

      “Okay, then.” She tugged slightly on the door handle.

      He shifted as if startled that he was blocking the way. “Friday. Don’t forget.” He shut the door and stepped back.

      As she drove away, she glanced in the rearview mirror and watched his tall, athletic form disappear inside the cottage. How could he eat that much junk and still look so good?

      Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. She wasn’t likely to forget about Friday.

      On Friday, Mara raced home from her early-afternoon cleaning appointment at the Clarins’ house. She was hot and sweaty and nervous and expected at the cottage in a half hour.

      Pastor Durand hadn’t been at the cottage when she’d returned yesterday in the late afternoon to clean as scheduled. And to her surprise, he’d cleaned up the dirt he’d tracked in the day before.

      In fact, the whole cottage was tidy. Since she hadn’t much to scrub, she’d cleaned the oven, just in case he decided to heat up a casserole.

      Then this morning, when she’d arrived to work on the computer, he’d been on his way out, dressed in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, looking young and carefree. They’d set a time to meet later. She hadn’t seen him since.

      She didn’t know what to expect from him today. Another leisurely stroll down Main Street? At least this time she’d be mentally prepared to roll with his unpredictable ways.

      She showered and changed into lightweight powder-blue pants and a tunic-style white cotton sweater. The phone in her room on the bedside table rang just as she finished brushing her teeth. “Hello?”

      “Hey, Mar, Donna here.”

      Mara rolled her eyes. As if she wouldn’t recognize her childhood friend’s voice. “Hey.”

      “So, you going to give me the scoop or what?”

      Mara sat on the bed and propped the phone between her shoulder and ear while she put on her tennis shoes. “Scoop?”

      “Sue called. Said she’d heard from her aunt, who’d heard from Tina who works at the bakery that you were showing the new pastor around town yesterday. And…he’s to die for.”

      Mara tied off the bow on her laces with a little more force than necessary. To die for! Please.

      “Well?” Impatience simmered in Donna’s voice.

      “Well, what? Yes, I showed the new pastor around town for a bit yesterday.”

      “So is he good-looking or not?” In the background Mara could hear a baby crying. “Oops. Missy’s awake. Why don’t you come over?” Donna pleaded.

      “Can’t. Have plans, but I promise after church on Sunday, I’ll come by.”

      Donna huffed into the phone. “Promises, promises.”

      Mara closed her eyes against the mild disappointment in Donna’s voice. The crying got louder. Donna must have picked up the baby.

      “Sunday. I gotta go,” Mara said.

      “Okay. But you’d better come over!”

      “I will.” She hung up and then quickly made a note in her organizer to go see Donna.

      Mara paused in front of the mirror in her bedroom and cringed. Her damp curls stuck out in all directions. In her top bureau drawer she grabbed a stretchy headband.

      She couldn’t remember the last time she’d thought about taming her hair, and the fact that she wanted to now made her hands shake as she slipped the wide navy band over her head. How she looked shouldn’t matter. It never had before. Before a certain young pastor barged into her life.

      To die for! Give me a break.

      Donna would get a kick out of knowing that Mara was fiddling with her hair. A pang of envy pierced Mara’s heart. She forced it way. She was truly happy for Donna. Her friend had married a good man and now had a baby. Mara loved her godchild, even though she wasn’t quite comfortable with the little girl. Babies were fragile and unpredictable.

      Tucking the band behind her ears, she grimaced at her reflection. She wasn’t sure which was worse—her curls unbound and flying all over the place, or pushed back into a sort of ring around her head. The tightness of the band made her decision. She yanked the thing off and threw it onto her twin bed.