[Canadian West 05] - Beyond the Gathering Storm by Janette Oke Page B

go.
    “But I do want to see you again,” he stopped her.
    Slowly she shook her head. “It wouldn’t work. You know that. I ... I don’t fit in your world, and you don’t fit in mine.”
    “But there must be a ... a third world,” he protested.
    She stared at him. What did he mean?
    “We can make one. Please. I won’t ask you to go out with my friends—and you don’t ask me to go to your church. We’ll just go places we can both enjoy. Things we can share.”
    Though her head was warning her not to be taken in, her heart yearned to at least listen.
    “Our own two-person picnic,” he rushed on. “The beach. Drives in the country. Dinner. We’ll find lots of things,” he finished with enthusiasm.
    “I don’t think—”
    “Please. Let’s just try it, Christine. If you’re still uncomfortable ...”
    He didn’t finish the thought, but he was wearing down her reserve. Breaking down the wall she had been carefully trying to construct.
    “I’ll ... think about it.”
    He leaned across and kissed her cheek—ever so lightly. “And I won’t think of anything else,” he murmured against her hair before he straightened up.
    She stood on the sidewalk and watched him drive away. She was in turmoil. She did want to go out with him again. In fact, she knew in her heart of hearts that she would agree. Yet there was an inner conflict that would not let her agree in peace.

CHAPTER Ten

    Though the detachment was kept busy, Henry felt the summer was slowly crawling by and time was standing still.
    He had been in the area long enough to establish some first-name acquaintances. Not anything that could yet be called a true friendship, but at least townspeople no longer seemed to hold their breath when he appeared on the scene.
    Most of those were people from the church. The pastor in particular was warm and open with Henry. He appreciated having someone who shared his faith to join him for an occasional cup of Jessie’s coffee.
    But things had not changed with the young woman and her son. He still went for the periodic haircuts and was always politely received. But in spite of the fact they attended the same church, she remained distant and unresponsive.
    He had noticed that she seemed like an entirely different person at church than in her shop—warm and outgoing, with a wonderfully warm smile and a delightful sense of humor. She doted on her son, but he guessed that was to be expected. Gradually he learned a few things just by keeping his eyes and ears open. Her mother also attended the church. She was a tiny lady with a big smile and hugs for everyone. She was the first person Henry knew whom he would have described as bustling. He noticed too that Mrs. Martin always seemed to have some package in her hand. A jar of fresh jam for some elderly couple, crocheted booties for the expectant mother, a fresh loaf of bread for a bachelor farmer. Everywhere the woman went she drew her little rainbow of happiness along with her.
    Henry was not too surprised when she approached him one morning following the service. “I feel like I’ve neglected you,” she apologized. “Is it too late to invite you for dinner? I never know which Sunday you are on or off duty, so I’m afraid I haven’t been successful in planning ahead.”
    He smiled and thanked her. Yes, Sunday dinner sounded wonderful, he quickly told her.
    “I’m going to hurry on home,” she continued. “You come whenever you’re ready. It’s that house on the corner of Fifth and Seventh. With the white picket fence. You can’t miss it.”
    He thanked her and turned to finish his conversation with a rancher who was having problems with a marauding bear.
    “I’ve lost a few healthy calves,” the rancher continued as Mrs. Martin bustled away. “I think this here fella might be the cause. I’ve seen him a couple times and run across his spore several more. He’s a big one—but lanky lookin’. Like maybe he hasn’t been fattenin’ up like he should.