So Alone Part 2

"Carrie, it's good to see you," a farmer's wife whom she hadn't seen in years said.

Carrie returned her warm greeting, but couldn't help feel surprised by it.

"Stop by and see what we've done to the old place," the woman added. "You won't recognize it."

"Thanks," Carrie responded, feeling even more surprised by the invitation. She couldn't remember the

last time she'd been in anyone's home in Sunville but Maddie's. The woman turned to talk to someone

else, and Carrie gently steered Maddie into the sanctuary. The trio was ushered to a pew Carrie selected near the back. Bette went in first and then Maddie. Carrie took the seat on the center aisle in the event a problem arose and they had to leave.

Ironic, she thought, that she had taken a seat where escape would be easy with her aged grandmother as the parents with the tiny baby on the other side of the aisle had done. "We can't bear to leave our new baby in the church nursery just yet," she heard the young mother explain to someone.

Carrie caught a glimpse of the baby's serene face peeking out from the soft folds of the pastel blanket. She looked away to tamp down the longing she felt for a child of her own. If only that persistent longing for a child would disappear and leave her heart in peace, but the closer she got to thirty, the stronger it grew.

Chapter Three.

The blue-robed organist captured Carrie's attention as he came in the door behind the pulpit and took his seat at the organ that the church had purchased recently. She didn't recognize him.

He made her realize how long it had been since she'd come to church services here. On her visits, she usually slept late while Maddie went to church with Bette. Then after Sunday dinner, she would drive back home to Fargo.

Carrie looked down to see a broad smile filling Maddie's face. Maddie reached for her hand and squeezed it as if to tell Carrie that everything would work out for the best. Carrie returned her smile and wished she could feel as optimistic.

The organ melody changed and from behind the pews the choir began to sing and march up the center aisle. The congregation stood and joined them in the opening hymn.

Carrie held the psalm book she shared with Maddie and sang while Maddie watched the pa.s.sing faces. Without looking back over her shoulder toward the aisle, Carrie could hear the sopranos, altos, and then the tenors and ba.s.ses as they filed past beside her.

After a short break, she heard a strong baritone voice. Carrie a.s.sumed it belonged to the new preacher who would be walking in behind the choir.

Wanting to get a look at him up close so she would recognize him in order to put in a good word about the lawn-service man, she looked back over her shoulder at his face.

Two familiar pale-blue eyes looked directly at her. The man's face suddenly sparkled with a broad grin of recognition.

Carrie stopped singing in mid-word and gasped. He was the lawn-care guy! The man behind the lawn mower who had awakened her yesterday morning had been the minister.

Heaven, help me. I scolded the pastor for making too much noise!

Carrie felt light-headed. She quickly looked down at the hymnal, only to have to tighten her grip on the book when it started to slip from her trembling fingers. She closed her eyes and pressed her hand against her churning stomach.

At the end of the hymn, Carrie sat down abruptly and paid close attention to the church service. Never had she seen the sanctuary so full of worshipers. Whatever the new pastor with the penetrating eyes was doing, he seemed to be doing it right.

Even though attentive to Maddie's needs, Carrie found her gaze riveted on the minister. He had a charisma that she could feel all the way to where she sat.

When it came time for the sermon, there was none of the fussing and shifting positions from the congregation that she was familiar with in the Fargo church she had attended while she was a student at NDSU.

During the service, Carrie thought she felt the pastor's gaze return again and again to her. It had to be her imagination. From so far away, she couldn't tell exactly where he was looking.

The staccato of the rain on the tall, frosted-gla.s.s windows accompanied the congregation for the closing hymn. As he had done before the service, the pastor followed the choir along the center aisle. Without looking up as they pa.s.sed, Carrie sang along with the others. She leaned over and adjusted the hymnal for Maddie at the moment she heard the baritone voice approach. Only after the rich voice had pa.s.sed, did Carrie trust herself to straighten up.

After the service, Maddie became the center of attention. Apparently she hadn't been to church for several weeks. Now as before the service, Carrie was thankful the talk was not about her--or Ralph.

"It must be wonderful having your granddaughter home to take care of you now," a lady friend said. "I was so afraid they'd put you in the nursing home," she added as if it were a terrible fate not worth considering no matter what the circ.u.mstances.

Carrie stoically accepted the guilt these comments heaped on her. Unable to escape by any other route, she and her companions joined the others in the flow that led out the front entrance, right past Reverend Newhouse.

A few times he looked up and their gazes locked. Then someone in front of him would say something and the fragile connection was broken when he looked down.

Carrie grew increasingly uncomfortable the closer she got to him. She felt foolish for what had happened yesterday. If she'd only known who he was.

Instead of looking for a place to hide, which crossed her mind, Carrie concentrated on pulling on her coat and helping Maddie and Bette into theirs. There would be no escape for her.

Her gaze went back to the black-robed figure just a few feet ahead of her. With a vigorous handshake from one of the teenagers in line, a shock of his hair fell across his forehead. His hand slid effortlessly through the errant strands, pushing them back before he took the next hand offered him.

Carrie wiped her damp palms on her raincoat. Had she truly wanted to run her fingers through that tousled hair to push it back herself? Please, G.o.d, don't let this be happening.

Almost there.

As friendly as the man seemed to be, she could only hope that he would make as little fuss as possible. She would apologize, and she and her companions could go home quickly.

Then he spoke to them and all of Carrie's plans were swept out the main door with the summer breeze that always blew on the prairie.

"Bette, Maddie, how good to see you ladies out on this rainy morning," he announced, taking a thin, age-spotted hand gently in each of his.

"I wouldn't miss one of your sermons, my dear boy," Bette announced.

Carrie's eyes widened at her referring to this man as a boy. Definitely wrong.

"Peter, I want you to meet Maddie's granddaughter," Bette told him along with Carrie's name. "She's come to arrange things for Maddie. Carrie, dear, this is Reverend Peter Newhouse."

He held out his hand to her. Carrie extended hers and watched it disappear into his.

"How do you do?" she managed, feeling heat rise into her cheeks. Her breathing became shallow.

Would he say something about her reprimand? How could she apologize when she didn't even want to bring it up?

"Carrie, is it?"

"Well, my name's Carolyn, but everyone has called me Carrie since I was little," she responded, thinking

how inane it sounded. She loosened her fingers and pulled on her hand, but he covered it with his other hand and held on to it more firmly. He didn't seem inclined to allow her an easy escape. Here it comes, she thought.

"Carolyn's a beautiful name."

"What? Oh, thank you," she mumbled, thrown by his sweet comment.

"And you must call me Peter. We don't stand on much formality here. But you probably know that." His

smile was gorgeous.

Carrie nodded. "Thank you." Another brilliant statement, she thought wryly. Why couldn't she think clearly when she was near this man? Peter glanced at Maddie. "How come you didn't tell me you had a beautiful granddaughter hiding somewhere, Maddie?" He punctuated his question with a laugh. Carrie, her cheeks hot with more embarra.s.sment, tugged her hand free from his grip and took Maddie's elbow to engineer their immediate exit. "Come on, Grandma, we're holding up the line of people wanting to greet Reverend..." Peter interrupted her by clearing his throat in a manner that sounded like he was correcting her. She looked up to see him raise an eyebrow. "Peter, I mean," she finished, duly noting his grin and matching it with one of her own. "That's better," he said. Maddie wasn't about to be moved, however. Apparently energized by all the attention, she asked lucidly, "You're coming over for dinner today, aren't you, Peter? We haven't had you over in such a long time. Please come."

Stunned by the invitation, Carrie was speechless. She could only hope he couldn't come because she'd be too nervous to eat sitting at the same table with him.

Bette was no help. "Then Peter can get to know Carrie since they haven't met before. That's a wonderful idea, Maddie."

"I must say, I think it is, too," Peter agreed with a grin. He looked at Carrie.

No, don't come, she wanted to say. I don't want to get to know you better because I think I'd like you. I don't want to get to liking any man in Sunville--especially not a minister when G.o.d and I are only barely on speaking terms. She pressed her lips between her teeth and held her breath.

"That is, if Carolyn thinks I wouldn't be too much of a bother," he finished politely.

She laughed nervously. He'd startled her by calling her Carolyn. She'd always loved her name, but it never had sounded as beautiful as when he'd said it.

Given no real choice, her good manners rose to the occasion. "No, of course not. Another plate would be no bother."

"Great. I'll cut through the backyards as soon as I'm done here. I know the way," he added, his persistent grin broadening. "And I'll be careful not to get caught on the bushes."

Carrie eyes rolled up and her sense of humor won out. That was all he was going to say about yesterday. Feeling relieved no one else would learn of her faux pas, she couldn't keep from smiling broadly.

"You do that. Whenever you get there for dinner is fine."

Once in the car, Carrie invited Bette to join them for dinner. The more people present, the happier Carrie would feel. Maybe she should have shouted an invitation to everyone on the steps as they left the church. No, the turkey breast roasting in the oven while they were at church wasn't big enough to feed them all, and she knew she would be the last person to get a loaves-and-fishes miracle.

For Maddie's sake, Carrie concentrated on getting the food ready and the table set while Bette talked to Maddie in the living room. The meal was not the company fare that Carrie was used to as a child when the pastor came to Sunday dinner. But why was she fussing about the food now? She wasn't trying to impress the new pastor. Far from it. She would probably never see him again after today.

She tried to ignore the frown that thought brought, and she moved the fresh flowers that she'd picked to the center of the table. She hoped they would add a festive touch.

Rain was falling lightly when Peter knocked at the back door moments later.

"Come on in." Carrie took his wet trench coat to hang in the former pantry off the kitchen that had been converted to a laundry and mud room.

"I don't want to track in any soil I might have picked up crossing the hedgerow," he said as he leaned down to take off his shoes and set them on the boot tray that sat below the coat rack. Instead of feeling awkward or embarra.s.sed, she was struck by how natural and considerate the simple act had been.

"Good thing I wore socks without holes in them this morning," he joked with his ever-ready smile.

Carrie had to laugh at that. "But wouldn't holey socks be appropriate on you for Sunday?" she ventured.

Now it was his turn to laugh as he dropped his second shoe.

Carrie didn't know pastors wore loafers on Sunday. They made Peter seem so... so human. In fact, she'd never thought about a pastor being a handsome young man before either, not before meeting Peter.

Oddly enough, even in a charcoal-grey suit with a dark shirt and white clerical collar, Peter looked comfortable in the big, warm, country-style kitchen. Surprised and for some reason annoyed, Carrie tried to shake off the image he created of being very much at home in Maddie's house.

Peter glanced around the room. Antic.i.p.ating his comments, Carrie watched as he looked at the gla.s.s-front white cabinets and the white appliances set in the white tile counter. He ran his fingers along the narrow tiles that curved around the edge on the island that contained the range and an eating counter with four stools.

"Here's a kitchen I wouldn't mind cooking in," he said. "So light and inviting. Even the faucets have white porcelain handles. This room looks like it might be original, but something tells me it's much closer to new."

Carrie nodded. His discerning comments pleased her somehow. "It's only about five years old. My folks arranged for it to be renovated just before they were killed in a boating accident in Minnesota. I love the way they made the kitchen look like it fits right into the hundred-year-old house. It's so bright and cheery, even on rainy days like today. In fact, this kitchen actually makes cooking fun."

Peter smiled in agreement as he looked back at her. "Is that turkey roasting? It smells heavenly."

"High praise from a minister, I think, but maybe you'd better wait until you taste it to compliment it. Living alone, I don't often cook anything that requires roasting, so I'll warn you, this dinner is a gamble."

Carrie felt quite amazed at how easy it had been to tease him back. She'd never teased anyone but her sister. She was out of practice and yet it had come so naturally.

She extended her hand toward the hall. "Maddie and Bette are sitting in the living room, Peter. We can walk through this way," she said, still feeling some discomfort calling a pastor by his first name.

She decided, nevertheless, that feeling uncomfortable using his first name was better than the myriad of other feelings that had skittered through her since she first had seen him pushing the mower yesterday.

"Oh, there you are," Bette exclaimed when he and Carrie walked through the large arch leading from the foyer. "Maddie, Peter's come for dinner."

Maddie looked up at Peter with a welcoming smile. "Oh, that's lovely. John will be pleased. He's wanted to have you over for weeks."

Peter looked at Carrie for an explanation. She felt thankful he seemed to comprehend the little shake of her head that reported that John had pa.s.sed away long ago.

"I wouldn't miss a chance for home cooking, Maddie," Peter declared as he picked up her hand and stroked it lovingly for a few moments. "I don't know if you'll call this home cooking worth looking forward to, but at least I didn't order a pizza," Carrie a.s.sured him.

"Thank goodness," he said with mocked relief as he straightened. "The pizza delivery boy and I are good friends just because he's come to my apartment so often with an order."

"You poor boy," Bette said with a laugh.

Carrie found herself laughing too, both at Peter's joke and at Bette's insistence on calling him a boy.

Funny, she couldn't remember laughing like this since before... well, not in a long time.