02_Groom of Her Own (5 page)

“Well?”

Sam reined in her wayward thoughts and stared at him. “Well what?”

“What’s wrong with ‘Brad’?” he prompted.

“Oh.” She reached for her napkin and looked down on the pretense of adjusting it on her lap, embarrassed at the inappropriate direction of her thoughts. Although he didn’t look it today, the man
was
a minister, for heaven’s sake—and definitely out of her league, even if she was in the market for romance. Which she wasn’t, she reminded herself sharply. “Sorry. I guess I just think of you as a minister, that’s all. I’m so used to hearing Laura refer to you that way. And at the wedding you were
dressed like
a minister. But you do look…different…out of uniform.”

He grinned. “Well, I’m off duty today. So I can dress like a real person.”

She smiled at his down-to-earth sense of humor. “I noticed.”

“Actually, I think I underdressed,” he admitted a bit sheepishly. “You look great. I sort of feel like a poor relation.”

Sam dismissed his comment with a wave. “I’m
on
duty, remember. This is
my
‘uniform.’ Always look professional with clients, that’s my motto. It helps build confidence.” Nevertheless, his compliment left her with a warm glow. The black skirt and green jacquard silk blouse, embellished with a long gold and pearl necklace and a matching bracelet, was her favorite outfit, and for some reason she was pleased he’d noticed it.

Brad propped his chin in his hand and smiled. “Oh, you already have my confidence. After that third degree on the phone, I was convinced you knew your stuff.”

She smiled ruefully. “I can come on a little strong, I guess. Laura should have warned you. Anyway, as for what you’re wearing, you look fine. To be honest, it makes me forget you’re a minister.”

“Well, I won’t complain if that makes it easier for you to call me Brad.”

“It might” She didn’t tell him that his attire today not only made her forget he was a minister, but sent her thoughts in a physical rather than spiritual direction.

He grinned engagingly. “Well, we can hope.”

The waitress arrived, and after they placed their order Sam pulled out her notebook. “Why don’t we finish up the business stuff before the food arrives? That way, I won’t have to eat and take notes at the same time.”

Brad was agreeable, and by the time their food was served they’d moved on to other topics.

“So how long have you been in the real estate business, Sam?” Brad asked as he buttered a roll.

“About fifteen years. It’s the only thing I’ve ever done.”

“You seem to be very successful.”

She shrugged. “I do okay. And I enjoy it. That’s the important thing. Plus, I get to meet lots of interesting people. I imagine you could say the same about your work.”

“Actually, in many ways we’re in the same business,” he remarked.

Sam tilted her head quizzically. “How do you figure?”

He shrugged. “Well, you devote yourself to helping people find
earthly
homes. I spend my time helping them find their
eternal
home,” he said matter-of-factly.

Sam smiled. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words, Rever— Brad?” she corrected herself, and was rewarded with a warm smile. “I enjoyed your talk at the wedding, too.”

“Thanks. You know, that was the hardest part for me about becoming a minister.”

“What?”

“Having to get up in front of people and speak. I do better one-on-one. It’s pretty intimidating to stand up there every week and see all those faces looking at you expectantly for words of wisdom.”

“You could have fooled me. You seemed totally at ease at the wedding.”

“Well, it’s nice to know that at least I
look
calm. But I’m really kind of a stay-in-the-background kind of guy. I was pretty shy growing up.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. So was I.”

Brad looked at her with a skeptical smile. “Now
that
I find hard to believe.”

Sam grinned wryly. “Most people would, I guess,” she admitted.
“Shy
isn’t exactly the word my friends use to describe me. But believe it or not, it’s true. Or used to be,” she said, correcting herself. “I was overweight as a child, and you know how kids can be. I was the butt of a lot of jokes, which made me even more self-conscious. But I finally figured out that the way to be accepted was to be sort of outrageous and funny. So I became the class clown, and I ended up being pretty popular. The only thing was, when I got to be about sixteen I realized that even though the guys thought I was a lot of fun, they never asked me out. So in my senior year I decided to lose weight, and by the time I graduated I was in pretty good shape. My weight’s never varied more than a few pounds in all these years.” Suddenly Sam frowned and looked down. “You know, I’ve never told that to anyone. Not even Laura,” she said slowly.

“Why not?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just part of a different life, I guess. And even though I’m glad I lost all that weight, it’s sort of what led to my disastrous encounter with matrimony, so I don’t think about it very often.”

“I did get the impression at the wedding that your experience with marriage wasn’t the best,” he admitted.

Sam gave a mirthless laugh. “You could say that.”

“Can I ask why, or would you rather not talk about it?”

Sam looked down and creased her napkin. There was something about this man’s understanding manner that inspired confidences. Which probably came in handy in his job, she supposed. His job, she thought with a frown, the words echoing in her mind. Was this conversation part of his job? she wondered suddenly. Was his interest professional—as a minister lending a willing ear to someone who needed to talk—or personal? It shouldn’t matter, but for some reason it did. And she needed to know. “Do you have your collar on now, figuratively speaking?” she asked, striving for a light tone.

Brad’s gaze was direct and warm. “No. I’m not being a minister right now. I’m just trying to be a friend.”

Sam stared at him, and her heart felt lighter. It was also beating just a little too fast. “Why do you want to be my friend?” she asked, finding it surprisingly difficult to keep her voice steady.

Because you seem to need one, he thought But his spoken words were different. “Why not? A person can never have too many friends.”

Sam stared at him a moment longer, still a little taken aback by the suggestion. “I think ours would be an odd friendship, Brad,” she said slowly at last. “We’re…really different…in a lot of ways.”

“So are you and Laura,” he pointed out. “And you two are the best of friends.”

“Yeah, I know.” He had a point. And it might be nice to have a male friend. It would be a welcome change of pace from the guys she usually met, who were out for a good time—and whatever else she was willing to offer. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.”

“Good,” he said with a smile. “So do you want to tell me what happened with your marriage? Or am I being too nosy?”

“No. But there really isn’t much to tell. Randy played bass guitar in a rock band that came to town the summer after I graduated. He noticed me, and not having a lot of dating experience, I was flattered by the attention. We ended up falling in love, and he asked me to marry him. My parents were very strict fundamentalist Christians, and they were appalled that I was even
interested
in someone in show business, let alone that I would consider marrying him. But we got married anyway, and that caused a rift with my parents that never really healed.”

She paused and looked down at her plate, tracing the edge with a red-polished nail. “They’re both dead now,” she continued more softly. “I was a late-in-life only child, and I think they expected great things of me. The day Randy and I eloped and got married at the courthouse in a civil ceremony was sort of the last straw.” She took a deep breath and looked up at Brad. “To make a long story short, we were only married about five months when he just walked out one day, leaving me five hundred dollars and a note saying he wasn’t ready to settle down and that getting married had been a mistake. So I got on a bus and came to St. Louis, which I’d visited once and liked, and started over. Now you have my life story.”

Brad looked at her silently for a moment She’d said the words matter-of-factly, but he knew there was a wealth of pain and disillusionment, as well as courage, behind them. “I’m sorry, Sam,” he said finally, and the compassion in his brown eyes made her throat tighten.

She tried to laugh. “Yeah, so am I. But Randy was right about one thing. Getting married was a mistake.” Unfortunately, it hadn’t been the only one, she thought sadly.

“What ever happened to him?” Brad asked.

Sam toyed with her water glass. “I never saw him again. But about six years after he left me I ran into one of the guys from the band. They were in town for a gig, and it was just one of those chance encounters. Anyway, he told me that Randy had died of a drug overdose a couple of years before.”

Again there was a moment of silence before Brad spoke. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that, Sam,” he said quietly at last.

She shrugged. “Well, it’s history now.” She glanced down, and with a start she realized that he was holding her hand. She stared down at their entwined fingers, unable to recall when they’d joined hands, knowing only that it felt good. Too good. Suddenly self-conscious, she gently eased her hand out of his grasp, but she missed the connection immediately.

Brad took a sip of coffee, and Sam used the moment to compose herself. She was surprised that recounting the story had upset her. It was ancient history, and she rarely thought about the failed relationship anymore. Sometimes she could hardly even remember what Randy looked like. But there was one part of the story that she couldn’t forget, and she’d very deliberately left it out. She was too ashamed. Besides, she’d already told Brad far more than she’d intended.

“Can I ask you something else?” he said slowly.

She looked at him hesitantly. There was something in his voice that put her on alert. “Sure. I guess so.”

“Well, you’re a very attractive woman, Sam,” he said frankly. “And you have a great personality. From what Laura says, you lead a very…active…social life.”

Sam’s lips quirked wryly. “Is that how she described it?”

Brad felt his neck redden. “Well, not exactly. But that was the general idea.”

“I do…go out a lot, Brad,” she admitted cautiously.

“So your bad experience with Randy didn’t turn you off men in general?”

She looked surprised. “Good grief, no! He was just a bad apple. That’s what I used to tell Laura. We just happened to marry two losers. But there are lots of nice guys out there.”

“So then how come you’ve never remarried?”

Sam stared at him. She should have seen that question coming. She’d set herself up for it, and now she had to find a way to avoid answering it. Because she couldn’t tell him the truth. “I guess I’m just too picky,” she said at last, forcing her lips up into a smile.

Brad looked at her with his perceptive eyes, and she knew he didn’t buy that explanation. But before he had a chance to pursue the subject, she changed the focus of the conversation. “So tell me about your marriage, Brad. I have a feeling your story is much nicer.”

He smiled. Sam had clearly revealed as much about herself as she intended to—for today, at least—and he respected that He was actually surprised she’d been so open. And turnabout was fair play. So he took her cue.

“Yes, it is. Rachel and I had a wonderful marriage.”

“How did you two meet?”

“Well, as I told you, I was pretty much a quiet, stayin-the-background kind of guy. I didn’t date much during high school, and hardly at all when I was in the seminary. Then, when I got my church, I was too busy. It was a plum call, but there were also high expectations, so I didn’t have much time to rustle up dates. Rachel was an organist at another church nearby, and when our organist was on vacation she filled in. That’s how we met, and it just seemed like a good match right from the start. We had so much in common. We liked the same things, we both had a strong faith, we laughed at the same jokes—you know, that kind of thing. We both loved kids, too, and we planned to have a big family.”

Brad’s eyes clouded, and he glanced down, stirring his coffee. “We only had four years together, but they were good years,” he said quietly. “Rachel helped me see the world in a whole new way. For instance, one of her most enduring legacies to me was an appreciation for classical music.” He smiled, his eyes distant and tender, and Sam knew that he was lost in remembrance. “Her uncle always gave us season tickets to the symphony. We couldn’t afford it on our salaries, so that was a real luxury. We enjoyed it so much.” Suddenly his smile faded and he cleared his throat. “I haven’t been back since she died,” he said softly. “I’ve missed it. I’ve missed everything I did with Rachel. She filled my life with music in many ways,” he finished simply.

Sam gazed at him, deeply touched by what had obviously been a devoted relationship and an enduring love. Impulsively she reached over and placed her hand on top of his. “It sounds like she was a wonderful woman,” she said, her voice catching.

Brad looked at her, and though he smiled, Sam saw the pain in his eyes. “Yes. She was.”

“What happened to her?” Sam asked gently.

“A ruptured brain aneurysm. No warning. She was here one minute, gone the next.”

“Oh, Brad, how awful!” Sam exclaimed in a shocked whisper.

“It was a very hard time for me,” he admitted. “For a long time I was bitter, and I was angry at God. I even took a leave from the ministry for six months. But I eventually came to terms with Rachel’s death. Ultimately I had to learn to live what I’d always preached—that sometimes we have to accept God’s will even if we don’t understand it.”

Sam shook her head. “You’re a better person than me, then. I don’t know if I could ever accept something like that.”

“That’s where faith helps.”

“Well, mine obviously isn’t as strong as yours.”