Giving Thanks for Baby. Terri Reed

for some reason this woman drew his attention.

      Probably it was the way she so deftly handled her son, like a pro. And there was no mistaking the love shining in her expression every time she cooed in her child’s ear.

      Before the last story ended, the baby had fallen asleep, his little body curled over her arm, his head listing to the side. Scott tapped on the table, drawing the woman’s questioning gaze.

      Nodding his head toward the child, he whispered, “He’s asleep.”

      The woman’s eyes widened as she adjusted the infant so she could verify Scott’s statement. With a rueful shake of her head, she said softly, “So much for story time.”

      She made to rise and Scott quickly asked, “Can I buy you a coffee?”

      Slowly, she sat back. For a moment she stared at him, then finally she nodded. “Decaf almond latte.”

      Scott rose and made his way to the counter. Naomi was going to love to hear that he’d just offered to buy this woman coffee without even asking her name. But the moment he’d thought she was leaving, he’d plunged ahead with the first thought that came to mind.

      He ordered the drink and a few minutes later returned to the table. The jogging stroller was now pulled close to the table and the baby sleeping soundly in the seat.

      Scott set the mug in front of the woman before he sat down. The quiet hum of parents helping their children do a craft that related to the story swirled around them.

      She smiled as she put her slender hands around the mug. “Thank you. This was thoughtful.”

      “You’re welcome.” Keeping his voice low, even though the crowd was busy with parents and kids wanting the storyteller’s books, he held out his hand. “Scott Crosby.”

      She slipped her hand into his, the temperature from the mug having heated her palm. Warmth spread up his arm.

      “I’m Trista Van Zandt.”

      “Any relation to Ross and Kelly?”

      Her expressive eyes widened. “Ross is my big brother. Do you know them?”

      “Yes, very well. Are you visiting?”

      She trailed a fingertip around the top of the mug.

      “No, I moved here recently from Richmond.”

      To make sure he wasn’t making an incorrect assumption, because some women didn’t take their husband’s names, he asked, “Are you and your husband enjoying our small community?”

      Trista’s expression closed. “I’m divorced.”

      “Oh. I’m sorry.”

      She gave him a tight smile. “Nothing for you to feel sorry about.”

      He acknowledged that with a nod. “Does your ex-husband still live in Richmond?”

      “Yes, thankfully. He wasn’t ready to be a father. The very idea cramped his style.”

      Anger stirred in Scott’s soul. “That’s just…” He was tempted to say a bad word but resisted with effort. “I’ll never understand how some men can be so selfish. Being a parent is the greatest honor God gives us.”

      She blinked, obviously surprised by his words. “I suppose that’s true. It certainly is the hardest job I’ve ever had.”

      “It’s good you have your brother and Kelly so close by. Are you adjusting to life here, then?”

      Her smile was warm. “Yes, thank you. The slower pace is perfect for Aidan and me. I love my job and Aidan seems to like his day care.”

      “Where are you working?”

      “Benson and Benson.”

      “Ah, are you a lawyer?” Scott said, wondering why that wouldn’t surprise him. She had a very strong self-possessed way about her, similar to Scott’s brothers. Only on them, it could, at times, come across as arrogance.

      “Yes. And you? What do you do, Scott?” Her interested gaze sought answers.

      Scott gladly gave one. “I’m the assistant pastor at Chestnut Grove Church.”

      She blinked. “Oh.”

      Scott could feel her retreat like the rays of the sun going behind a cloud. A disquieting sense of disappointment engulfed him, though why he didn’t understand.

      It shouldn’t bother him that this woman would put up a wall between them because of his call to follow God. So many other people in his life had, as well.

      He sighed. “I take it you don’t go to church?”

      She raised a brow. “Why would you say that?”

      He shrugged. “The vibe you’re giving off.”

      One side of her mouth rose. “Oh, really? I didn’t know pastors bought into vibes.”

      “Reading people is part of the job.”

      “Then you must be good at your job, because you’re right, I don’t attend church. My parents weren’t big on religion and I just never got into it, not like Ross has.”

      Scott considered her for a moment. “Now that you’ve moved here, maybe you should consider attending. You might be surprised.”

      She lifted one slim shoulder. “Maybe.” She fiddled with a napkin. “I read in the paper that the Douglas Matthews show will be filming at the upcoming food drive that the church is hosting. That must be exciting to have that kind of coverage.”

      “Yes, it is.” She didn’t fool Scott by changing the focus of their conversation. “The Douglas Matthews Show has brought Chestnut Grove a lot of attention. I think the food drive this year will be the biggest yet. And the Thanksgiving Day dinner for the homeless is sure to be a success.” He eyed her speculatively. “We could use more volunteers if you’re interested.”

      She seemed to consider his words. “I might be. I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

      “Call the church and ask for Naomi. She’ll be able to get you plugged in.”

      “I’ll think about it.” She took a sip of coffee.

      An awkward moment of silence stretched between them.

      “Did you grow up here?” she asked.

      He shook his head. “I was born here, but we moved to Richmond when I was a teen. I came back as soon as I left seminary.” He searched her face. “What about you? Where were you born?”

      “Brooklyn, New York. I went to college at Columbia, then moved to Richmond, where my ex-husband’s family is from.”

      Scott’s gaze touched on the sleeping baby. “How old is…Aidan?”

      Affection lit up her eyes. “Yes, Aidan. He’s seven months.”

      “That’s a fun age. They aren’t supermobile yet, but their personalities start to develop.”

      Both of her eyebrows rose. “You sound like you know kids. Are you married?”

      He laughed. “No. I just know from all my nieces and nephews.”

      “Ah. Learning secondhand. My big brother’s been learning from Aidan. I can’t wait to see Ross with his own little one.”

      “They’ll be good parents,” Scott stated. “Tiny Blessings has been through the wringer with all the scandals that have happened over the past few years. But your sister-in-law and brother seem to be handling it wonderfully.”

      Trista’s chest puffed with pride. “They are. I’ve been trying to help a little with some of the legal stuff, but it gets very complicated and time-consuming. Not to mention how emotionally involving it is.”