Bride Wanted. Renee AndrewsЧитать онлайн книгу.
gentleman. Obviously, there aren’t that many of them left, and we’ve found a winner. I’m not giving up on getting his permission to publish them.”
Rita’s laugh echoed through the phone. “I thought you’d say that, but I figured you’d want to know what she said. We still need to mail those letters to her, you know.”
Destiny glanced at the letters that she’d read and reread continually ever since they’d arrived in their PO box. Funny, she felt almost territorial about them, as though they were written to her or something. But they weren’t, and his grandmother wanted to return them to where she had found them. “Okay. We’ll send them back,” she said regretfully.
Troy exited the station and started toward her car.
“Hey, he’s coming this way. Call you back later.” She hung up and tossed the cell back in her purse.
“Here you go.” He placed the bills in her hand, and the simple gesture sent a ripple of awareness up her arm. “So, did you have any other questions?”
“Other questions?” She folded the cash and placed it in the console. “Oh, yes, I do. I need to find the Claremont Bed and Breakfast. Could you tell me where it’s located?”
“Sure, you keep heading down Claremont-Stockville Road, the way you’re going, and you’ll run right into the town square. Head to the opposite side and take the road to Maple Street. It’s a block down on the left. It’s an antebellum plantation, white with double porches all the way around, one on the top floor and the other surrounding the bottom. You can’t miss it. Nice place. L. E. and Annette Tingle run it. They’re good folks. They’ll take care of you.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t make any effort to start the engine. She really didn’t want to leave him, but she couldn’t think of another reason to stay.
“But that wasn’t what I meant.” His relaxed and easy tone highlighted his contentment in his world, even if he hadn’t found the woman he’d written to for, oh, fifteen years.
“Wasn’t what you meant? What wasn’t what you meant?”
“I was asking if you have any other questions about small-town living. Maybe I could help you out, beyond just showing you how to fish this weekend. Assuming you visit the fishing hole.” He grinned. “Anyway, ask away. You’re our only customer for the time being. Might as well take advantage of a few minutes to ask small-town questions of the small-town guy.”
She racked her brain for every line of those beautifully written letters, and she suddenly knew exactly what to ask in her quest to begin winning Troy’s trust. “Just one more question, for now.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s Wednesday, and I’d love to attend a midweek worship. Can you tell me if there’s a church in town that I could visit tonight?” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d graced a church for a midweek service. In fact, she missed more Sundays than she attended, but she did find her way to church every now and again. And this morning, she’d even found her Bible and packed it for the trip because faith was important to Troy. So for now she’d find hers again, too. Never hurt to spend time in church; she just rarely found the time to make the effort. But she’d make it now.
He hesitated, then one corner of his mouth kicked up a notch, and that dimple made a reappearance. “Sure, Claremont Community Church has a midweek worship. And it’s pretty easy to find. There’s a sign for the church at the end of a road a little ways before you get to the square. You can’t miss it. Worship starts at seven.”
A little ways. The quaint term sounded adorable, especially when delivered with that deep drawl. Instead of asking him exactly how far that constituted, she said, “Sounds great.” She turned the key. “And will you be there?”
“I try to never miss.”
“Then I’ll see you there.” She gave him her best smile and a small wave, and then drove away from the guy she’d planned to meet ever since her magazine received that batch of letters from his grandmother last month. And she’d seen it in his eyes: her church question took him by pleasant surprise. Good. She wanted to convince him to trust her, be her friend and eventually agree to help save her magazine. Perhaps in the process, he’d get his own version of her magazine’s name.
Southern Love.
Chapter Two
Today I saw a vision of what I want for us in the future. Maura packed a picnic lunch for Bo, and the two of them sat behind the service station while I ran the place and they enjoyed their quiet time. I look forward to having quiet time with you, time to reflect on our day, time to reflect on our faith. I look forward to many years sharing quiet time and enjoying each other’s company, building our love together and coming to know each other so well that we can read each other’s thoughts without words.
Troy folded the letter and placed it in the wooden box that held the most recent of the letters that he’d written for the past fifteen years. The thing was, his grandmother had struck a nerve today with her impromptu visit to the station. He hadn’t anticipated passing his twenty-seventh birthday and still not finding the recipient of these letters. Then again, he asked God to send her in His time, so he knew that the Lord would put the right woman in his life one day. Maybe this weekend’s date with Haley Calhoun would be the start of something that would last longer than a date or two.
His mind flashed to Destiny Porter, the woman who’d come by the station today. Silky chocolate hair and bright blue eyes in a pretty heart-shaped face. She wasn’t overly made-up and didn’t appear fake like a lot of girls he knew. Then again, they only seemed fake when they started the bizarre flirting that Troy couldn’t stand. He wanted a woman who spoke from the heart, and he hadn’t found that yet. But this woman, Destiny Porter, had seemed undeniably real. However, she was only passing through, here for a while to write about small-town living. She had big city written all over her, from the snazzy clothes she wore to the flashy car she drove.
No, he couldn’t see himself dating someone like that, but he had found her easy to talk to. And she’d asked about church, not merely church on Sunday but the midweek service. She was visiting from out of town and still took initiative to find a church for worship in the middle of the week.
Troy couldn’t deny he’d been impressed on several levels. Her natural appearance, pretty but not overdone. Her interest in faith, genuine and without putting on a show. And the easy way she’d talked to him, looked at him, seemed comfortable with him.
He glanced back at the wooden box. Those were qualities he’d described several times over the years, a woman who was real, a woman who had faith and a woman he could relate to easily. He’d met Haley at church Sunday morning, and she’d seemed right at home talking about faith and God, even if she’d had to rush out after church when she’d gotten a call about a sick calf. Luckily, he’d already asked her if she’d like to have dinner Friday before she got that call.
He left his house and drove to the church wondering if he’d see the new vet at tonight’s service. Turning onto the parking lot, he immediately spotted Destiny’s bright red convertible parked beneath a huge magnolia. She leaned against the side of the car, a Bible tucked beneath her arm, and the setting sun highlighted her there, smiling at Troy as she held up a hand.
She wore a pale blue sundress with a white sweater and white sandals, her brown hair pulled into a low ponytail on the side, the same way it’d been when he saw her at the station. Like earlier today, she had a natural girl-next-door quality that Troy found appealing. He found himself wondering if she had a guy back in Atlanta, then shook the thought away. She was in a different league, lived a different life than small-town Claremont, and Haley had the very same qualities, pretty and natural and real, but she lived here and admittedly loved small-town living. Troy should keep his focus on the girl he’d go out with in two nights.
But there was no harm in helping the city girl with her story. He pulled his truck in next to her car, grabbed his Bible