Bride Wanted

She found it very easy to smile at Troy. “I’ll be honest. I’m afraid of horses, but truthfully, I’ve always wanted to learn how to fish.”

“Really, now? Well, I might be able to help you out.”

Destiny already knew that, of course, but she kept her poker face intact. “How could you do that?”

“It just so happens that I have a second job on the weekends running the fishing hole. It isn’t as organized and all as the new fish camp. The Cutter family owns that, and it’s more of a vacation spot. But my grandparents James and Jolaine Bowers own the fishing hole, and it’s the type of place to go if you want to have some quiet time for a day, relax outside, take in the scenery.”

“And catch some fish?”

His dimple popped back into place with his smile. “Yeah, that, too.”

“So you’ll be there this weekend?” Destiny was doing a little fishing right now, and she wasn’t all that discreet about it, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I will.” He reached into his back pocket and withdrew a leather wallet. “I think I have a couple of their cards left in here. I’ll get you one. It’ll have the address for you. We’re open pretty much from sunup till sundown, so you can come whenever you like.”

“I don’t need a reservation?”

Blue eyes glittered as he looked up from a forest of black lashes. “Nah, it’s not that kind of place.”

She watched his hands, covered in dirt and oil, thumb through the worn wallet, and she noticed a small emblem on one corner of the leather, a gold cross. The symbol reminded her of the main theme of his letters.

I want a bride who loves the Lord more than she loves me.

The statement had caught Destiny unaware, shocked her a little. She didn’t have that kind of faith, didn’t really understand it, but the guy wrote about it so much that she honestly believed he meant those words. And that intrigued her even more.

“I know I have them in here somewhere.”

As he searched for the card, Destiny took the chance to look at his face, and she realized with surprise that it was also fairly well covered with dirt and grime, and one thick smear of what she guessed to be oil across his forehead. Funny, she hadn’t even noticed it before. His features had apparently drawn her attention to the important things. Or maybe it was the words he’d written on those love letters that hid any imperfections.

“Here it is.” He withdrew the card and handed it to Destiny. “You’ll have to excuse the smudge.” He pointed to a black smear along the edge. “You can still read the important stuff. And there’s another business on the back.”

Destiny flipped the card and saw the contact information for the Bowers’ Sporting Goods Shop on the Claremont square.

“My grandparents thought it’d be smart to consolidate their two businesses on one card.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” She tucked the card inside her purse.

The gas pump made a loud racket as it screeched to a stop. “Looks like it’s done.” He moved the nozzle from the tank to the pump. “Took fifty-three dollars’ worth.”

She fished three twenties from her wallet and placed them in his palm.

“Hold on, I’ll get your change.” He turned and walked toward the station where Bo and Maura quickly jerked their attention from the gas pumps to something else at the counter.

Destiny’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the display, saw her managing editor’s name, then answered. “Everything okay with today’s blog?”

The magazine’s website ran an original blog post each day. Usually Destiny wrote the material, but Rita had taken on today’s so Destiny could get on the road sooner. Plus, since their entire staff consisted of merely the two of them, if Destiny didn’t do it, Rita did. Destiny may have footed the start-up expenses and therefore held the “owner” title, but Rita cared just as much about the magazine’s success. Hopefully, if Destiny could keep her advertisers and subscribers happy, she’d one day be able to pay her friend a salary worthy of her efforts.

“Of course, everything’s fine,” Rita said. “I told you I can handle things.”

Destiny grinned. “Okay, so why are you calling?”

“To find out if you met him yet, naturally. Have you? And does he look as good as he sounds on paper?”

“No, he looks better.”

“You don’t say? Well, maybe I should’ve been the one to volunteer for this road trip. Then again, it may be a moot point. His grandmother just called again to make sure we weren’t publishing his letters and also asked for us to return the originals.”

Destiny frowned. Troy’s grandmother had entered several of his love letters in the magazine’s first Love Letter Contest, and his had blown all of the other entries out of the water. Then, when they’d phoned the lady to let her know she’d won, she admitted she didn’t have her grandson’s permission to share them. Rita had offered to call and talk to Troy, but the woman had said she’d try to get his permission. When that didn’t happen quickly, Destiny decided to head to Alabama herself and request it personally. “Did she say anything else?”

“That Troy had told her specifically today that he didn’t want anyone but his future bride seeing those letters and that she wanted to make sure we gave the prize money to whoever came in second...and returned those letters. She said she wants to put them back where she found them before he realizes they’re missing.”

“None of those other letters even held a candle to his, Rita. You know that. And we promised our advertisers a sneak peek into the heart of a true Southern 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 off the seat and climbed out. “So you found the church okay?”

“Yes, and thanks, your directions were spot-on.” She lifted her shoulders a little as she spoke, and Troy noticed the thin line of pearls circling her slender neck. Matching tiny pearl earrings dotted each ear, and again he thought about how much he liked her simple yet elegant taste. Her look wasn’t over the top, but it was very feminine.

“Well, I’m glad you made it here okay.”

“I hope you don’t mind, but I kind of waited for you.” Her smile was shy, sweet, and Troy found himself returning the gesture easily.

“You waited for me?”

“I knew you said you were coming and, I know this sounds crazy, but I get a little nervous when I go somewhere for the first time. I guess it’s that first-day-of-school type feeling, where you don’t know anyone and are hesitant about how you’ll fit in.”

He knew the feeling well and remembered each time he’d experienced it. “First day of school, first day on a job, first date with a girl,” he said, grinning when he thought about how many of those he’d had, “or in your case, with a guy.”

She laughed, and he liked the way even her laughter seemed real, natural, right. “Yes, that’s it. First-day jitters. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind showing me around, maybe letting me know where the classrooms are, or does everyone meet in the auditorium on Wednesdays?”

“We have a few different classes, the youth, singles, young marrieds, middle marrieds, new parents, those types of things.”

She looked surprised. “Wow, that’s a lot of options.”

“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.”