Faithfully Yours Page 9

  “Jeremy,” she murmured quietly, knowing she had to make the first move. “I’ll go with you to talk to Reverend Dave after everyone has left. We can clear up this misconception about the engagement then.”

  He raised his dark eyebrows as he stared at her in disbelief. “Are you deranged?” he demanded furiously. His eyes glared down at her like chips of cold, blue-gray ice. “He’s just announced the happy event to the entire congregation. Here comes someone now. No doubt a congratulatory word.” He frowned in distaste. “It appears that we have little choice but to go along with this for now, Miss, er, Gillian. We’ll go for lunch together and discuss the situation then.”

  Gillian kept her voice low as Lavinia Holt surged toward them, a red-faced Flossie in tow. “But my aunt is expecting…”

  “Oh, bother the aunts,” he exploded, grasping her arm in his and urging her forward. “They have done quite enough.” He bent his head to her ear in a manner that suggested a lover’s intimate conversation but was, in reality, a direct order. “Do not invite that Flossie woman to come with us. I have had quite enough of her company for a very long time.”

  Lavinia burst upon them then, and it was impossible to question him further, but as Gillian glanced past Jeremy’s black-suited shoulder, she caught a curious gleam of smug satisfaction in her aunt’s eye.

  Now what, she asked herself, is that all about?

  Chapter Six

  The restaurant teemed with families and friends enjoying the delicious brunch arranged so colorfully on big mirrored plates. Gillian wasn’t sure how, but Jeremy had managed through sheer power of personality to procure the most secluded table in the house. She allowed him to take her coat before sinking into the chair and glancing around.

  Good! There was no one she knew nearby.

  “What would you like to have for lunch?” he asked her, frowning as he studied the lineup at the brunch trolley.

  “We didn’t have to come here,” Gillian murmured, glancing around at the highly polished silver and sparkling glasses. “We could have talked just as well in the park.” She risked a look at his glowering face and smiled. “You could have kicked something there.”

  Jeremy’s eyes opened wide but he was denied a reply as the waitress showed up. They decided on soup and salad.

  “And I’d like a slice of apricot cheesecake for dessert,” Gillian said, smiling. “It looks too good to resist. Do you want some?” She glanced at her companion.

  “No, thanks,” he replied. “I’m not one for desserts. I will have some coffee, though. Decaf, please.” When the waitress turned to leave, he leaned back in his chair and stared at her. “Well, Miss Langford, how do you propose to resolve this situation now?”

  Gillian felt some of her good humor dissipate while struggling to maintain the smile on her face. If she had hoped for a friendly, uncomplicated lunch, it was obvious that Jeremy had no such intent.

  “Why do you insist on calling me that?” she hissed. “You know my name, and people are going to think it a little strange if you call your fiancée ‘Miss’ all the time.”

  “Miss Langford, this is not…”

  “It’s Gillian,” she grated.

  “Gillian,” he started again. “This situation is not of my making, and I assure you that I do not intend to allow it to go on for one second longer than necessary.” Jeremy rubbed his chin.

  It was obvious that he detested saying the words, Gillian decided. “Don’t worry,” she told him impishly. “I’m not all that demanding. Flowers once in a while. A meal now and then. Maybe a kiss or two under the moonlight” His eyes glittered with some emotion she couldn’t quite define and Gillian wondered why she’d added that last, when she had no intention of being kissed by this man again.

  “Miss, sorry, Gillian,” he began, “I don’t think…”

  “Kidding,” she told him hastily. “I’m kidding.”

  “Oh. Too bad,” he added. Gillian thought she detected the hint of a teasing smile on his lips for just an instant. She didn’t know what to make of his reply. It wasn’t quite the answer she’d expected.

  Silence yawned between them until the waitress brought their soup. It was Gillian’s favorite, beef barley, with chunks of colorful vegetables floating in the thick savory broth.

  “This is excellent,” she murmured, breathing in the aroma. She saw his handsome face glower at her across the table. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” he told her. “I hadn’t realized they’d put in peas, that’s all. I ate enough peas at school to cure me of them for a lifetime,” he muttered dourly. “In fact, all the food I ate at school was pretty bad. Perhaps that’s why I enjoy Aunt Faith’s cooking so much.” He patted his washboard stomach with a grin. “Everything she makes is a temptation.”

  “Ah,” Gillian grinned. “You don’t look as if you need to worry about your weight.” She studied his broad shoulders and wide strong chest, then caught herself and stared down into her soup.

  “I intend to have a good, long life,” he said sincerely. “Which is why I watch what I eat.”

  He sounded so smug that Gillian couldn’t help saying, “Dull, but long.”

  He flushed at that, glaring at her as she dipped a cracker into her steaming bowl. “My life is not dull. Not at all. I enjoy my work—I like an organized approach.” His eyes sparkled with glee at her crinkled nose and just to tease her, he deliberately moved the cup and saucer an inch to the left.

  “But don’t you find it sort of, well, boring, to have everything so…programmed? I’ll bet you even know what you’re having for dinner tonight.”

  He glanced up, startled. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing,” she agreed. “It’s just that there’s no opportunity to try something new…to enjoy something completely spontaneous.” She saw his dark eyebrow rise mockingly.

  “I do believe that I’ve had enough spontaneity for one week, Miss—Gillian. It’s not every day that a man finds himself engaged to a woman he barely knows and then hears the news proclaimed from the pulpit.”

  Gillian blushed. “Well, okay. I get your point.” She pushed the soup bowl away and leaned back in her chair to study him. “But that was sprung on you. You didn’t really relish the change, if you understand what I’m saying.”

  Jeremy shook his dark head. “I’m afraid I don’t,” he told her truthfully. “We all have hopes and dreams, but we can’t stand around, waiting for them to come true. We need to have a plan and then follow it.” He glanced up, his eyes glowing blue. “Take you, for instance. You had your future all mapped out and then something changed. I’m quite sure you didn’t embrace the change,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you by bringing up the past.”

  “It’s okay,” she told him quietly. “You’re right, I didn’t expect Michael to die. And it was very hard to accept. But I’m learning that God has a plan in everything that happens. I might not like it, but I can’t be happy until I accept it and learn to move on.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and continued.

  “It’s getting easier to talk about him now, especially with the kids in the youth group. They’re so eager to explore life, to find out the boundaries.” She blinked up at him. “That’s how Michael was. There weren’t many things he wouldn’t try at least once, just to find out what it was like.”

  “What kind of things?” he asked as the waitress brought their salads.

  Gillian thought for a moment before a memory slipped into her mind. “Like bungee jumping. He did it, you know. Off a bridge.” Gillian wiped away a tear. “I was so scared, but Michael thought it was wonderful. Like skydiving.”

  “It is pretty dangerous,” Jeremy told her. She could hear the disapproval in his voice.

  “I guess it is. But Michael always said that God would take him home when He, God, was ready. And until then, he intended to live.” She glanced down at her emerald ring; the one they’d chosen together. “I don’t think he ever expected to go so soon, but
since he did, I’m glad that he got to do some of the things he loved.”

  Jeremy said nothing, merely staring at her. She felt his scrutiny but refused to look away. She had nothing to hide. When he spoke, his voice was pensive.

  “Perhaps, if he’d taken a little more care, he would have had more time with you. I believe that God has natural laws that we humans aren’t supposed to break.”

  Gillian sat a little straighter, studying him with a frown.

  “Why do you always speak of God as if He’s some kind of glowering judge, waiting to punish us?” she demanded. “I don’t believe He’s like that at all. I believe God wants us to do what’s right, but when we goof up, He’s not standing there with a whip, ready to apply the forty lashes.”

  “If He didn’t want us to obey him, He wouldn’t have given all the rules,” Jeremy countered.

  “The rules are guides, Jeremy. No one is perfect. God knows that. And he’s prepared to forgive us. After all,” she continued softly, “God is all about love. In everything.”

  Jeremy began saying something and then stopped abruptly, his face registering amazement. “Good grief,” he muttered. “She’s followed me here.” Gillian was about to turn around when he said, “No, don’t look. Just pretend we’re a newly engaged couple having a perfectly amiable conversation.”

  Laughter bubbled up inside her. If only he could see the humor in their situation. “We are newly engaged,” she said with a chuckle. “And the conversation was amiable. I thought.” Then all words left her as Flossie Gerbrandt stood beside her, smiling a fatuous grin of adoration at Jeremy.

  “I’m sorry you had to leave so soon the other evening,” Flossie exclaimed in a whispery voice. She brushed her hands over her brightly colored skirt. “I was really enjoying your stories about England.”

  “Yes,” Jeremy murmured. “I enjoyed it, also. But I had quite a bit of schoolwork to finish. Perhaps another time.”

  Flossie’s eyes were wide with curiosity as she glanced from Jeremy to Gillian in surprise, obviously wondering why he hadn’t been spending his evenings with his fiancee. There was nothing to do but step into the gap he’d created, Gillian told herself. And warn him about next time. With a tickle of delight, she wove her hand into his bigger one and patted it in true lover-like fashion.

  “He means we’d both like to have you over for an evening,” Gillian put in graciously. “Perhaps over the holidays.”

  “That would be nice. When are you getting married?”

  Gillian watched Jeremy’s eyes as he inadvertently swallowed a mouthful of the steaming coffee. It must have gone down the wrong way, because he began coughing.

  “Oh, we’re not sure yet, Flossie,” Gillian said. “Everything’s been moving so fast. We’re trying to think of the best possible time, and since both of us work, well, you know what it’s like.”

  Gillian smiled, to take the sting out of her words, recognizing the look of adoration that Flossie directed at her fiancé. Jeremy would have to act his part as her adoring fiancé well, if he didn’t want to hurt this woman’s feelings.

  Flossie finally left a few moments later, and Gillian let the silly smile slip from her face. “You’re going to have to do better than that if you want people to believe this engagement is the real thing,” she lectured, dipping a fork into her cheesecake. “Mmm-hmm, you really should try this. It’s delicious.”

  “The whole thing is preposterous, and we have your aunt to thank for this current situation.”

  Gillian felt her eyes open wide with amazement. “Hope?” she squeaked, staring at him. “You’re blaming Flossie on Hope?”

  Jeremy bristled. “Of course I’m blaming her. She set the whole thing up, after all. It certainly wasn’t my idea to have dinner at Flossie’s house.”

  Gillian shook her head in confusion. “I don’t get it,” she murmured. “Why would Hope try to pair the two of you up? Flossie is the one who will get hurt. Unless you really care about her…” She raised one eyebrow inquiringly and accepted his lowered eyebrows as a no. Gillian tried to ignore the little flutter of relief in her midsection.

  “I certainly have not encouraged her. She’s a nice enough woman, just so painfully shy that I hesitate to even speak to her. She needs to be included in more fellowship events.” Jeremy eyed the cheesecake with an envious glint in his eye, glancing away only when Gillian pushed the plate toward him.

  “Go ahead,” she offered generously. “Try it. I think you’ll like it.”

  “I can’t,” he murmured. “They’ve taken away my fork.”

  “Here, you can use mine.” Before he could change his mind Gillian had sliced off a bit of the delicious dessert and was holding it to his lips. “I haven’t had anything contagious in weeks now,” she teased.

  With a sigh of resignation, he took the small bite in his own mouth, rolling it around to savor the wonderful flavor. Just when she thought he would agree about how good it was, he surprised her.

  “Probably eighteen grams of fat in that slice,” he muttered, carefully wiping his lips with his napkin. “But delicious none the same. More, please?”

  Gillian was surprised by the glint of humor in his eyes and was about to add her own pithy remark, when they heard a little boy speaking to his friend nearby.

  “Well, maybe I do gotta be an angel, but I sure aren’t playing no harp. I’m gonna play the drums!”

  Gillian giggled at the note of pride in the squeaky voice and turned to see if she could identify the source. As she did, her eyes fell on a small table in the far corner of the room. Faith Rempel sat staring as her companion, Art Johnson, who spoke in obviously worried tones, his forehead creased.

  “Oh, look,” she said to Jeremy. “There’s your aunt with Art. Looks like they’re really interested in something. I think they make a wonderful couple.”

  “‘Couple,’” Jeremy echoed bitterly, setting his teaspoon against the saucer with more force than was strictly necessary as he glared at the two. “They’re not a couple. He’s just trying to inveigle himself into my aunt’s good graces. He obviously wants something.”

  “Why would you say that?” Gillian demanded. “He’s been a good friend to her lately, taking her for walks and having dinner with her. I think it’s wonderful that she has some companionship. You don’t have to worry so much about her now. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they fell in love?” Her voice died away dreamily as she stared at the elderly pair across the room.

  Seconds later she felt Jeremy’s strong fingers close around her arm. “My aunt was married for over thirty years to the same man,” he informed her angrily, spots of color dotting his cheekbones. “I hardly think it’s likely that she would find someone to fill my uncle’s place. Fall in love indeed!” He glared at her.

  “I’m sure she did love her husband,” Gillian agreed calmly. “But just because she’s loved one man, doesn’t mean she can’t love another. Your uncle is gone and Faith is still here. I think it would be wonderful if she could find someone to share these last years with.” She didn’t add that she hoped Art’s presence would keep Faith out of the nursing home.

  “Ha,” he crowed triumphantly. “You say you think my aunt should get involved again, but you follow a different set of rules for yourself.” His eyes gleamed at her. “Your fiancé died, but you still have your whole life ahead of you. Surely you want to find someone to grow old with?”

  Gillian tried. Nobody could say she didn’t work extra hard to stifle the response that came bubbling up from her subconscious. But it didn’t help. The words spilled out helter-skelter, anyway, destroying the smile on his smug countenance. “Some might say I’ve taken that step a little too early,” Gillian said softly. “I mean getting engaged so soon after moving here, and to my boss.”

  He sighed then; a deep, wrenching sigh that admitted the hopelessness of his situation. “Does anyone win with you?” he asked with a small laugh. “Ever?” But there was a sparkle in his eyes and a determined set to those broad sh
oulders that told her he wasn’t totally dismayed.

  She could have been depressed by that look, except that Jeremy Nivens was tall, dark and very good looking. And perhaps the push-pull sense of challenge between them was more exciting than she’d ever admit. And she suddenly realized that she wouldn’t mind losing a battle or two to him once in a while if it meant he’d relax that rigidly-controlling stance of his and let her see what went on behind the depths of his blue-grey eyes.

  “Come on,” she invited, gathering up her purse. “It’s almost time for choir practice. They’re going to start on the Christmas cantata today.”

  “I had intended to finish some paperwork this afternoon,” he muttered in her ear as he held her coat out. “I’m not sure I’ll have enough time for choir this year.”

  “Sure you will,” Gillian said gaily, threading her arm through his.

  “No, I’m sure that I—”

  “If you don’t,” Gillian told him quietly, “Verda will have you building sets for the Sunday school pageant. They’re doing a five-act play.”

  Reluctantly he steered them toward the church.

  “I guess I can just fit in practice time,” he muttered, his breath catching at the sound of her merry laugh.

  The same thing happened an hour later when Flossie asked Gillian to sing a duet with him. Jeremy felt his whole body come tinglingly alive as her clear contralto tones ran over the sweet pure notes.

  It was just another facet that he was learning about Miss Gillian Langford, he admitted. She had a beautiful voice, obviously well trained, as she sustained the last note for eight full counts. He felt his own voice ring true on his notes when the time came for his tenor part in the song.

  “Oh, perfect,” Flossie breathed when they finished the song in harmony. “You sing wonderfully together. You’ll have a real ministry with that after you’re married.”

  Jeremy felt that same old tinge of regret creep up on him. Gillian Langford was a beautiful, talented woman, whom any man would be proud to acknowledge as his soon-to-be bride. But she just wasn’t right for him.