Bride Wanted

“Yeah, we have quite a few, but there aren’t that many people in each group. Claremont’s a small town, you know, but the folks at church like their Wednesday night study groups to cover applicable topics.”

“So do you go to the singles class?”

“Nah.” He glanced around for the pale blue pickup that Haley had driven on Sunday but didn’t spot it in the parking lot.

“Looking for someone?”

“Yeah, but I guess she didn’t make it this evening. You ready to go in?”

“I am.” She walked beside him toward the building. “So what class do you go to?”

“I usually go in the auditorium for Brother Henry’s lesson with the main group. Truth is, it’s mostly all of the elderly members of the congregation.” He waited to see if she’d ask why he’d selected that group, and he wasn’t all that certain how he’d explain the choice. Because I’ve dated everyone in the singles class, and I’m not married yet, so young marrieds and middle marrieds won’t exactly fly. Somehow that answer didn’t seem best. Thankfully, she didn’t ask, so he didn’t have to worry about how to respond.

“Could I go with you to that one then, since I’ll know someone there?”

“Sure. Bo and Maura, the couple that you met this afternoon who own the service station, will be in the class. And the Tingles, who own the bed-and-breakfast where you’re staying, will be there, too. So you’ll actually know a few.”

“I can feel those first-day jitters going away already.”

He opened the door for her when they reached the top of the church steps. She passed near him, smiled and thanked him. And Troy found himself inhaling her faintly floral scent, not a strong perfume that overpowered his senses, but a pleasing fresh fragrance.

She responded to the greeters inside the lobby, and he noticed how easily she chatted and exchanged small talk with Bryant and Anna Bowman, the older couple assigned to welcoming everyone this evening. If she did feel the first-day jitters, or like a fish out of water, in the small community church, it didn’t show. In fact, she looked very much at ease making her way through the lobby with Troy introducing her to those still visiting before class.

By the time they reached the auditorium, Brother Henry was getting ready to pray. Troy directed her to his regular pew, midway from the front and in the center of the church. He saw a few church members take an unhidden interest in the woman situating herself on the pew beside Troy. Most noticeable were his mother and grandmother, sitting together as usual in the second row. No, they shouldn’t have turned around and gawked at Troy when he came in, but that was their nature. And it took his grandfather and father tapping their shoulders before they turned around. Of course, his grandfather and father also stared at the pretty girl by his side.

Troy sent his dad a subtle shake of his head to make sure he’d get the hint that this wasn’t anything more than him sitting with the newcomer. Hopefully his dad would fill his mother and grandparents in before church ended and they were stuck to Ms. Porter like white on rice.

As was typical with the Wednesday night service, Brother Henry moved around the room and offered each member in attendance a chance to read the next passage in their class material or the next Bible verse. Troy noticed Destiny having a difficult time locating Philippians, and when it neared her time to read, he leaned over and touched her Bible.

“Want me to help you find it?”

Her cheeks blushed pink, and he was afraid he’d embarrassed her.

“I noticed you’re using a new Bible, so I’m sure you’re probably still learning where everything’s located in that one. Amazing how a different font or a translation can do that, huh?” He kept his voice as low as possible so as not to disturb the other class members and also so he wouldn’t point out the fact that she was having a hard time.

Her look of embarrassment all but disappeared. “Yes, thanks.”

“You want to take the next one, Troy?” Brother Henry’s voice took their attention off each other and back to the study.

Troy read the verse. As soon as he finished, he flipped to the next verse in Destiny’s Bible, so she was ready when Brother Henry asked if she’d like to read.

When the class ended, Troy wasn’t surprised to see his mother and grandmother making a beeline for his pew. He knew better than to try to leave; they’d just chase him down in the parking lot.

“Mom, Grandma, this is Destiny. She’s visiting from Atlanta.”

“Really? You don’t say.” His mother’s ambitious nod and smile went overboard. Troy knew she was ready for him to find the right one, but she could stand to tone down the look of hope at him merely standing beside the visiting lady.

But his mother’s look had nothing on his grandmother’s. Jolaine Bowers’s blue eyes were so wide, her smile so bright, that Troy wouldn’t be at all surprised if she didn’t start clapping and tell him that it was high time he gave her some great-grandchildren, and that she thought Destiny perfect for the job. Then her head tilted, and she looked confused. “Destiny? I thought your name was Haley. Haley Calhoun.”

“Haley didn’t make it tonight,” Troy said.

Her brows shot up with such force they nearly disappeared beneath her bangs. “I thought our talk today helped you.” She attempted to whisper, but people in the lobby probably heard.

“Destiny is visiting town to write a story, and I offered to help. She also asked where to attend a midweek Bible study, so I told her, and she came.” Troy picked up his Bible from the pew and waited for the interrogation to continue.

His grandmother didn’t disappoint. “So you’re still going out with Haley on Friday?” She looked to Destiny. “I’m sorry, dear, but we’re working on the fact that my grandson has been labeled a player.”

“Mother, really.” Troy’s mom shook her head. “Forgive my mom,” she said to Destiny, “I’m afraid she’s long since lost her filter for what information to share and what she should keep to herself.”

“The whole town knows it,” his grandmother said. “Just go to the beauty shop and ask them. Or the quilting group. Or our online loop.”

Troy could tell Destiny didn’t know how to respond, and he grinned. “My grandmother’s definition of a player and the one you’re thinking of probably don’t coincide, but for now, I won’t try to explain.” He edged toward his grandmother, hugged her and lowered his voice. “I appreciate you attempting to help me out, but I think I’ve got this. I’m still going out with Haley on Friday, but I believe I can help Ms. Porter write her story on small-town living, too.”

She huffed out a breath. “If you say so.” But then she seemed to focus on the positive aspect of Destiny’s occupation. “Wait, you’re a writer? You write for newspapers, magazines? Or do you write books?” Her look of admiration grew along with the size of the publications she listed. “Are you a bestseller or something like that?” Her head bobbed and she appeared a bit starstruck. “Have you written anything that we might find at A Likely Story?”

“A Likely Story?” Destiny asked, handling this grilling fairly well, in Troy’s opinion. He’d have to apologize profusely later, if he ever got her away from his mother and grandmother.

“A Likely Story is our local bookstore, on the town square,” his mother explained. “It’s been here since I was a little girl, and it’s adorable. You have to visit the store while you’re in town.”

“Oh, yes, you must visit,” his grandmother continued. “Maybe we could set up a book signing for you there. Do you have any recent releases? I’ll make sure to ask David Presley, the store owner, to order plenty of your books.”

“No relation,” Troy’s mother said.

“Relation?” Destiny asked.

“To Elvis, of course,” his grandmother explained, and Troy began to think that he probably owed this woman more than an apology, maybe a cup of coffee or even dinner, for what his mother and grandmother were putting her through right now. But that’d qualify as a date, and he’d already asked out Haley Calhoun. No need to feed his player reputation by asking the writer out, too. But if his grandmother didn’t back down, she might ditch her story on small-town living. Or title it “The Twilight Zone” and sell it to a sci-fi mag. “And we can put it in the church bulletin announcements. When would you like to have your signing, dear?”

He could tell Destiny didn’t know how to answer his eccentric family’s questions, so he decided to help her out. “She said she’s writing a story about small towns,” he explained. “I’m pretty sure that means she’s writing for a newspaper or maybe a magazine. Probably not a novelist, are you, Destiny?”

Her cheeks lifted with her smile and made her eyes appear a more brilliant blue within the long, dark lashes. “That’s right, I’m not.” And then, at his grandmother’s obvious look of disappointment, she added, “But I’ve always dreamed about writing a book. Maybe I’ll try it one day.”

Grandma’s grin reclaimed her face. “Well, that sounds wonderful, just wonderful. You should write one about Claremont, definitely. It’s a small town, but plenty goes on in a small town, let me tell you.”

Troy feared that she might start telling her all about the plenty going on, courtesy of her time today at the beauty shop. “Grandma, I’m going to walk Destiny out to her car.” He knew if he left without Destiny, the questioning would continue, and he could only imagine what they’d ask if he wasn’t standing nearby. “I’ll see you at the fishing hole on Saturday.”

“Would you like to come to the fishing hole, too, Destiny?” his grandmother asked. “It’s really a lot nicer than it sounds. James and I have been fixing the place up for years, and it’s almost as pretty as Hydrangea Park. It’d make a good addition to your story. I’ll fix you some of my famous chicken fingers while you’re there. And a chocolate pie. Maybe some of my peach delight. I bet you haven’t had peach delight before.”

“I’m sure she’d love your peach delight, Mama, but she probably needs to leave. The church is nearly empty.” Troy’s mother wrapped an arm around his grandmother and kissed her cheek. He loved them both dearly, even if they did tend to meddle a little—or a lot—more than they should.

“Aw, thanks, dear. Well, maybe Destiny could put the fishing hole in her book.” She gave another look of hope, and this one had nothing to do with eliminating Troy’s player status and everything to do with advertising. “What do you think?”

“When I write the book, I just might,” Destiny said, and Troy commended her silently for appeasing his precious, albeit determined, grandmother.

They walked toward the lobby, the crowd thinning as everyone made their way home, and Troy noticed the straight white-blond hair that had first caught his attention Sunday morning. The new veterinarian stood at the church doorway chatting with Brother Henry. “Haley?”

She turned and smiled. “Hey.”

Troy took the few steps to close the distance between them. “I figured you didn’t make it to the service.”