Stranger in the Shadows

She raised an eyebrow at his question, but answered it. “Lately it’s been hard to see much of God in the things that have happened in my life.”

“You’ve had a hard time.” The scars on her neck and hand were testimony to that, the pain in her eyes echoing the physical evidence left by whatever had happened.

Chloe’s gaze was focused on some distant point. Maybe the trees. Maybe the last rays of the dying sun. Maybe some dream or hope that had been lost. “Yes, but things are better now.”

He was sure he heard a hint of doubt in her voice, but she didn’t give him a chance to comment, just shrugged too-thin shoulders. “I’d better get back inside before Opal sends out a posse.”

The words and her posture told Ben the conversation was closed. He didn’t push to open it again. Much as he might be curious about Chloe, he had no right to press for answers. “I’m surprised she hasn’t already. There must be at least five unmarried men she hasn’t introduced you to yet.”

“Is that what was going on? I was wondering why almost every person she introduced me to was male.” She laughed, light and easy, her body losing some of its tension, her lips curving into a full-out grin that lit her face, glowed in her eyes.

“You should do that more often.”

The laughter faded, but the smile remained. “Do what?”

“Smile.”

“I’ve been smiling all day.”

“Your lips might have been, but your heart wasn’t in it.”

She blinked, started to respond, but the door to the reception hall flew open, spilling light and sound out into the deepening twilight.

“There you are!” Opal’s voice carried over the rumble of wedding excitement as she hurried toward them. “Things are winding down. It won’t be long before Hawke and Miranda leave.”

“Are you hinting that we should get back inside?”

“You know me better than that, Ben. I never hint.”

It was true. In the years Ben had been pastoring Grace Christian Church, Opal had never hesitated to give her opinion or state her mind. A widow who’d lost her husband the same year Ben lost his wife, she was the one woman Ben knew who’d never tried to set him up with a friend, relative or acquaintance.

She had, however, told him over and over again that a good pastor needed a good wife. Maybe she was right, but Ben wasn’t looking for one. “So, you’re telling us we should get back inside?”

“Exactly.” She smiled. “So, let’s go.”

There was no sense arguing. Ben didn’t want to anyway. He’d come outside to make sure Chloe was okay and to satisfy his curiosity. He’d accomplished the first. The second would take a little more time. Maybe a lot more time.

That was something Ben didn’t have.

Much as he loved his job, being a pastor was more than a full-time commitment. Opal’s opinion about a pastor needing a wife aside, Ben had no room for anything more in his life. That was why he planned to put Chloe Davidson and her sad-eyed smile out of his mind.

Planned to.

But he knew enough about life, enough about God, to know that his plans might not be the best ones. That sometimes things he thought were too much effort, too much time, too much commitment, were exactly what God wanted. Only time would tell if Chloe was one of those things.

He pushed open the reception hall door, allowing Chloe and Opal to step in ahead of him. Light, music, laughter and chatter washed over him, the happy excitement of those in attendance wrapping around his heart and pulling him in.

“Ben!” Hawke Morran stepped toward him, dark hair pulled back from his face, his scar a pale line against tan skin.

Ben grabbed his hand and shook it. “Things went well.”

“Of course they did. I was marrying Miranda. Thank you for doing the ceremony. And for everything else. Without your help we might not be here at all.” The cadence to his words, the accent that tinged them, was a reminder of where he’d grown up, of the life he’d lived before he’d come to the States to work for the DEA, before he’d been set up and almost killed. Ben had met him while he was on the run, offered the help Hawke needed, and forged a friendship with him.

“There’s no need to thank me. I was glad to help.”

“And I’m glad to have made a friend during a very dark time.” He smiled, his pale gaze focused on his wife.

“Are you returning to Thailand for your honeymoon?”

“We are. I want Miranda to experience it when she’s not running for her life.”

“Try to stay out of trouble this time.”

“I think my days of finding trouble are over.” He paused, glanced at the hoard of women who had converged on his bride. “Miranda is finally going to toss the flowers. Come on, let’s get closer. My wife doesn’t know it, yet, but as soon as she finishes, she’s going to be kidnapped.”

That sounded too good to miss and Ben followed along as Hawke moved toward the group. Miranda smiled at the women crowded in front of her, turned and tossed the bouquet. Squeals of excitement followed as the ladies jostled for position, the flowers flying over grasping hands and leaping bridesmaids before slapping into the chest of the only silent, motionless woman there.

Chloe.

Her hands grasped the flowers, pulled them in. Then, as if she realized what she was doing and didn’t like it, she frowned, tossing the bouquet back into the fray. More squeals followed, more grasping and clawing for possession. Chloe remained apart from it all, watching, but not really seeming to see. Ben took a step toward her, hesitated, told himself he should let her be, then ignored his own advice and crossed the space between them.

FOUR

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen a woman catch the bouquet and throw it back.” Ben Avery’s laughter rumbled close to Chloe’s ear, pulling her from thoughts she was better off not dwelling on. Hopes, dreams, promises. All shattered and broken.

She turned to face him, glad for the distraction, though she wasn’t sure she should be. “I didn’t throw it. I tossed it.”

“Like it was a poisonous snake.” The laughter was still in his voice and, despite the warning that shouted through her mind every time she was with Ben, Chloe smiled.

“More like it was a bouquet I had no use for.” She glanced away from his steady gaze, watching as a little flower girl emerged triumphant from the crowd of wannabe brides, the bouquet clutched in her fist. “Besides, it seems to have gone to the right person.”

Ben followed the direction of her gaze and nodded. “You may be right about that, but tell me, since when do flowers have to be useful? Aren’t they simply meant to be enjoyed?”

“I suppose. But I’m not into frivolous things.” Or things that reminded her of what she’d almost had. That was more to the point, but she wasn’t going to say as much to Ben.

“Interesting.”

“What?”

“You’re not into frivolous things but you work in a flower shop.” His gaze was back on Chloe, his eyes seeming to see much more than she wanted.

To Chloe’s relief, a high-pitched shriek and excited laughter interrupted the conversation.

“Look,” Ben cupped her shoulder, urging her to turn. “Hawke told me he was going to kidnap his bride. I wasn’t sure he’d go through with it.”

But he had, the broad-shouldered, hard-faced groom, striding toward the exit with his bride in his arms, the love between the two palpable. Chloe’s chest tightened, her eyes burning. At least these two had found what they were seeking. At least one couple would have their happy ending.

For tonight anyway.