A Time of Hope. Terri Reed

seems you found it. Where did you move from?”

      Mara gripped his elbow. Her eyes flashed gold. “We don’t have a lot of time,” she whispered.

      He frowned. Boy, she was a taskmaster. “Right. It was good to meet you, Rob. I’ll see you on Sunday?”

      “We wouldn’t miss it.”

      “Great. We’ll talk more then.” Jacob let Mara steer him out the front door. “Whoa, slow down. Your hour isn’t up yet.”

      She made a face at him.

      “Here, hold this.” He handed her his coffee cup. He tore off a piece of his roll and popped it into his mouth. “That is good.”

      He tore off another piece and held it out to her. “Here.”

      She backed up a step. “No, thank you.”

      “Oh, come on.” He waved the sugary sweet beneath her nose. “You know you want to.”

      He could see the indecision in her expression. He waited. Finally, she shook her head and looked away. He popped the piece in his own mouth. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those type who only eat carrots and steamed broccoli.”

      She handed him back his cup and started walking. Her pace brisk. “I usually eat bagels, yogurt, granola. Healthy stuff that won’t clog my arteries. What’s wrong with vegetables?”

      He fell into step with her. “Nothing. I like vegetables. But not in the morning. I’d much rather have something sticky and sweet.”

      He ducked into a sporting goods store. Through the window, he watched the expression of frustration settle on Mara’s face as she realized he wasn’t with her. She certainly was on a mission to keep moving. She marched into the store and anxiety came off her in waves.

      He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze of reassurance before engaging in a conversation with the owner, a nice older gentleman with lots of information on the lake activities that drew the summer tourists.

      He left that store and went into the next and the next. Each time, he engaged in a conversation with the person manning the store. And with each stop, Mara’s tension grew. Jacob had no intention of letting her be late for her next appointment, but he wasn’t going to rush, either. He was keeping track of the time.

      When he’d pulled her into the ice-cream parlor, for a second he thought she was going to keel over.

      “It’s not even lunchtime yet!” she exclaimed when he offered to buy her a sundae.

      He shrugged and ate his hot-fudge-and-caramel sundae with gusto.

      At the drugstore he shot the breeze with the pharmacist for a few minutes while Mara sat impatiently in a chair.

      As they left the drugstore, Mara glanced at her watch.

      “Relax. It’s okay if we don’t make it all the way down the street. I’ll come back later.”

      She stopped and glared at him. “Why am I here with you? You’re perfectly capable of doing this on your own.”

      With that she headed back the way they’d come toward his car. For someone with short legs, she could sure move. With a grin he followed along. “Hey, wait up.”

      She stopped, her tennis shoe tapping on the sidewalk.

      He caught up. “Don’t be mad.”

      “I’m not mad.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s just that you’re like this big unpredictable kid, and I don’t have time for it.”

      He grinned. “I promise I’ll be good.”

      She eyed him warily. And he gave her a coaxing look that his sister and mother could never resist.

      Her mouth scrunched up. “Don’t think you can manipulate me with your good looks and those puppy-dog eyes.”

      He didn’t think she’d meant to compliment him, but his ego puffed up a bit anyway. “I like you. You don’t let anything get past you. How about while I drive you back to the cottage, you tell me about Hope?”

      “Why? You’re only here temporarily,” she shot back.

      “True.” He’d give her points for boldness. “But while I’m here, I should give my all, right?”

      She blinked, clearly flustered. “Right. Fine.”

      She started moving again. Only this time she adjusted her stride and went at a more reasonable pace. “Hope started out as a single fruit stand. Two local farmers decided to cash in on the new road leading to the lake by selling some of their goods. The stand became so popular, they added a restaurant.”

      She pointed down the street to a lone log-cabin-style building set back a ways from the road just past the town proper. A big sign in the shape of a pie read Katie’s. “Best eating place around.”

      “How long has it been there?” he asked.

      “Since the late eighteen hundreds. The Wenatchee Valley is the undisputed heart of apple country in the state of Washington. Over Labor Day weekend the whole valley holds a big harvest bash, called Family Farm Fest. The local apple, peach and pear growers set up stands at the fairgrounds.

      “There are pie-baking competitions, pie-eating competitions, pie-throwing competitions. One year Lars Henderson ate so many pies he had to be rolled out on a stretcher. The whole valley turns out for the event, as well as some tourists who drive over from Seattle or Spokane.”

      “Ooh. I love pie. All kinds.” But he wouldn’t be here to taste any.

      “We’re big on festivals. In fact, the Apple Blossom Festival is in a few weeks.”

      “Will there be pie?”

      She laughed. “Of course.”

      “Good. My mouth is watering already.”

      “Let’s see. What else would you be interested in? We have one school that used to go all the way to twelfth grade but about nine years ago the town council decided to build a regular high school. That created some more jobs, which we needed.”

      They reached his SUV and he opened the door for her. Mara slid in, liking his gentlemanly manners. She hadn’t had much opportunity to be around men. Her father had barely talked to her most of the time after her mother’s death and Pastor Anders…well, she opened doors for him, not the other way around. Her housekeeping clients were courteous. She couldn’t fault anyone’s treatment of her.

      But somehow Pastor Durand made her feel…she didn’t know how to define how he made her feel. Younger, freer.

      And it wasn’t just her that he treated well. He’d been warm and friendly with everyone. People opened up to him in ways she’d never seen anyone do with Pastor Anders. Maybe it was the age difference.

      Or maybe that Pastor Durand exuded such a fun and carefree presence that made him likable and easy to talk to. He asked questions and listened with attention to the answers. Just as he was listening to her ramble on about the town of Hope.

      “Here we are,” he said, as he pulled his car next her old Jeep. He got out and came around to open her door. “Thank you, Mara. I do appreciate you taking time to help me get acquainted with the town.”

      She clutched her organizer and climbed out. She didn’t feel she’d helped at all. “You’re welcome, Pastor Durand.”

      “Jacob,” he reminded her gently.

      Her throat tightened. He’d said she had a pure heart. He wouldn’t say that if he knew the truth. Not comfortable using his given name, she ducked her head.

      “So, we still on for Friday?” he asked, relieving the tension.

      “I have you penciled in,” she answered, and climbed inside her Jeep.

      He