Anna Louise passed by several times and saw that he’d found plenty of company. She had the most uncharitable desire to claw Penelope King’s eyes out. Richard’s old high school sweetheart seemed fairly determined to win him back, and he didn’t seem to be fighting her.
Losing her holiday spirit entirely, Anna Louise slipped away and went into the house. The flashing light on her answering machine taunted her from clear across the room. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat.
“Not again,” she whispered, staring at the machine as if it had taken on a life of its own.
A highly developed sense of responsibility prevented her from ignoring that flashing light. It could have been important, one of her parishioners in need of her comfort. But she knew in her gut what she’d hear when she pressed the Play button.
“Enjoy it while you can,” the voice whispered with malicious glee. “Your days are running out. When the council vote is taken, your church will be taken away from you and you will be just another sinner.”
Anna Louise sank down into a chair beside the desk and slowly pressed the button to erase the message. She listened to the whir of the tape taking away the vitriolic words, but it brought her no real relief. It was impossible to erase the awareness that there was someone in Kiley who hated her just for being who she was, who was so determined to destroy her and everything she’d worked for.
“Anna Louise?”
She looked up and saw the concern written all over Richard’s face.
“Are you okay? You’re white as a sheet.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted.
He glanced at the answering machine, which was now silent and unblinking. “Bad news?” he guessed.
She drew herself up and forced a smile. “No. Just something I’m going to have to deal with one of these days. I’d hoped it wouldn’t be quite this soon.”
“Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“No. Sorry.” She managed to inject a cheerful note into her voice by sheer force of will. “How are Maisey’s crocheted items going?”
“All sold out.”
“She’ll be pleased.”
“I just have one question,” he admitted conspiratorially, his mood lighter than it had been in weeks. “What in heaven’s name were they, anyway?”
Anna Louise chuckled. “Doilies, for the most part.”
“What do you do with them?”
“Aren’t there any in her house?” she asked, then answered her own question. “That’s right. She doesn’t have any. She said she didn’t feel like washing them and starching them anymore.”
He continued to look bewildered. “They can’t be coasters, because the water would go right through all those little holes. Besides, they’re too big. I don’t get it.”
“They go on tables. Sometimes on the arms of the sofa.”
“What for?”
“Decoration.”
He nodded sagely. “That explains why she doesn’t have any at home. They’re tacky.”
Anna Louise winced. “For goodness’ sakes, don’t say that around here. You’ve just sold them to half the people at the bazaar.”
His eyes sparkled with mischief. “I know. Just proves my point.”
“Richard!” she protested, biting back a laugh.
“Don’t worry, Anna Louise, I won’t tell, if you don’t.”
She studied his expression for a minute. “You just said all that to get me to laugh, didn’t you?”
He winked at her. “Worked, didn’t it?” His expression sobered. “I just wish you’d tell me why you were so upset in the first place.”
She couldn’t get into it with him. The call would just reaffirm everything he already felt about the narrow-mindedness of people in Kiley. She leveled a perfectly serious look at him.
“Maybe I was just upset because you ran out of those doilies before I could get one,” she said, and took off before he could probe any more deeply.
CHAPTER TEN
If December’s weather was any indication, Richard didn’t want any part of January and February in Kiley. There had been two significant snowstorms already and the temperature had dipped close to zero on more nights than he cared to count. Not even a fire that blazed day and night had been able to ward off the chill in Maisey’s drafty old house. He’d taken to wearing so many layers of clothes, he thought he was starting to look a bit like a vagrant, wearing his entire wardrobe at once.
Not that his appearance these days was of any real concern with the only woman on his mind being Anna Louise. He’d done everything he could to steer clear of her whenever possible, but the efforts had been useless.
Not even the very willing Penelope had been able to distract him. He’d finally explained gently that he had no intention of getting involved with her again while he was in Kiley. He didn’t say that Anna Louise’s image was with him when he went to bed at night and with him when he woke up in the morning. He didn’t explain that while he slept, it was Anna Louise who tormented him in his dreams with her beauty and gentleness, her wit and strength and her unavailability.
He told himself that her being unavailable was what made him unable to shake her loose. Unfortunately, this perfectly logical explanation didn’t help one bit to satisfy his fascination.
He was tucked under the layers of comforters considering his options when he heard Maisey coughing. The dry, hacking sound practically shook the house and brought him to his feet. He yanked on his clothes and tore down the hall.
“Are you all right?” he demanded from the doorway to her room.
“Fine,” she insisted, then went into another spasm of coughs.
Richard plunked himself down on the side of the bed and glared at her. “Maisey, I don’t want you to even think about getting out of this bed today. I’m calling Doc Benson.”
“Nonsense. I’ll
