Home to Safe Harbor. Kate Welsh
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in the far corner of the reception room.
“Would you mind sitting, Chief Trent?” she asked, hoping that with a table between her and the former FBI agent she would feel less distracted and intimidated by him. Calm and cool, he clearly didn’t experience any of the terrifying feelings in her presence that she felt in his.
“Please. Make it Matt,” he said, and moved toward the nearest empty table.
She was tempted not to respond in kind, wanting the distance her ministerial title gave her, but she knew that wouldn’t be right. Trying to ignore Matthew Trent’s blatant masculinity, Justine followed him to the table he’d chosen.
“Is this okay, Reverend Clemens?” He pulled out a chair for her at a table away from the others. “I don’t want anyone to overhear and guess who we’re talking about.”
She smiled at that. Did he really think she didn’t already know who the misdirected teen was? “Call me Justine and tell me what Alan Tobridge has done now.”
He grimaced. “Am I that obvious?”
“No. But Alan is.” Justine grinned. “Unfortunately, I can relate to exactly what he’s going through. You haven’t been here very long, but you’ll eventually hear about my own rebellious years.”
Matt chuckled. “What did you do? Cover your bible in bright purple? Wear red to church?”
Justine tried to ignore the tingle the low timber of his quiet laughter chased along her spine. “No,” she said, distracted and strangely drawn to this man who was so concerned for someone else’s child. “But I do remember having red and purple liberty spikes once upon a time.”
“Liberty spikes?”
She grinned, suddenly relishing the opportunity to burst his stereotype bubble, though she usually cringed at talk of her turbulent youth. “First you take white glue, then you grab sections of hair…” She pulled a piece of hair straight out to the side to illustrate. Grinning, she tilted her head, leaving a long silence.
He broke it with a groan. “How could you say something like that to a man raising three daughters all by himself? I mean, you’re a minister. If you pulled stunts like that, I’m doomed.”
She’d observed him with his daughters. It was easy to see the love and affection within his family. “Sorry, I just couldn’t resist. What I’m getting at is, I think Alan and I have a few things in common. My mother forgot I was alive most of the time.” Justine let her gaze survey the party before making eye contact with Matthew Trent. “Arlene and Jeffrey Tobridge aren’t bad people, but they’ve bought heavily into relative morality. They let Alan do whatever he wants. If it feels good, it’s okay. When he makes bad choices, they go to bat for him to get him out of trouble. My kid, right or wrong.”
Matthew nodded. “I don’t think he’s a bad kid. I think he’s trying to get their attention and their love. When they came to the station last night to pick him up, you could almost see the kid begging them to say they couldn’t condone his behavior. But they have every intention of having the flower beds he destroyed up at the Lighthouse B & B replaced professionally. They’ve also offered to pay for the bracelet he walked off with from The Quest last week. Plus they’ve already arranged to have the library cleaned after he let that skunk loose in there.”
Matt sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. “I know Judge Howard is going to go along with more parental restitution. And it isn’t going to stop the way Alan’s acting out. Charles Creasy held the parents responsible when he had my job and the judge always agreed with him. In a way they are, but— I don’t even know why I’m bothering you about this.” He frowned looking troubled. “Yes, I do. Do you have any idea how I stop this kid? Somebody’s going to get hurt and he’s going to ruin his life trying to prove his parents really do love him. What got you out of liberty spikes?”
Justine’s eyes were on the senior pastor as he chatted with an engaged couple, and she smiled. “Reverend Burns talked me out of my spikes and into the church. He convinced me I was only hurting myself—and I was. Nobody suffered but me if I skipped school, or dyed my hair some outrageous color, or smoked or stayed out all night. As I said, my mother barely knew I was around. But Alan is hurting others in trying to get his parents to put the brakes on his antics. I tried stopping him on the street after the library incident, but it was no go.” She leaned forward. “So I have another idea. Unfortunately, you’d have to supervise him, and I’d need to get Russ and Annie Mitchard to agree. After all, he hurt them when he stole the bracelet from Russ’s shop and destroyed Annie’s beautiful flower beds. I think Alan needs to see how his actions affect his victims by working off his debts to them.” She relaxed against the back of her chair. “The Mitchards’ feelings need to be taken into account, though. They may not want to deal with him.”
Matthew Trent’s eyes widened and he nodded. “What an insightful idea. I have no problem supervising the kid, but who’s going to talk Judge Howard into this?”
Justine pointed toward Reverend Burns and said conspiratorially. “The judge’s godfather, our pastor.”
Matthew’s mouth kicked up on one side in an endearing grin, just as all the children thundered into the hall with their teachers. “Daddy,” a cherub-cheeked five-year-old girl shouted and ran to Matthew. Her cap of curly chestnut-brown hair and dark eyes mirrored those of her adoring father.
“Hi, kitten,” he said, standing and swinging the little girl up high into his arms.
Justine found it hard to look at them together. There were times she wished she had the courage to take a chance on love and a family, but those things were not for her. She couldn’t be a pastor and a mother. Leading a church was too demanding. It wouldn’t be fair to the children. And besides that, she couldn’t be a mother without first being a wife, and she’d never trust any man with her heart. She’d watched firsthand what could happen to a woman who loved and lost. Especially when the man appeared to be all that was brave, heroic and trustworthy. It only hurt more to be betrayed by the likes of a George Clemens. Or a Matthew Trent.
Chapter Two
Matt had never been so relieved to see his kids. What had begun as a sort of strategy session with the new youth pastor had become uncomfortably…well…comfortable.
Originally he’d considered waiting till Reverend Burns was alone, but he’d foolishly disdained the cowardly impulse.
So what if he’d noticed Justine Clemens’s golden hair flying in a brisk wind off the lake the very day he’d first set foot in this little town to interview with the mayor and town council. So what if, for the first time in well over two years, he’d felt the sharp sting of desire for a woman. And so what if he’d been thoroughly embarrassed to learn the woman who’d reawakened that part of his life was the new minister at First Peninsula Church.
Like an idiot he’d tempted fate and approached both ministers to seek advice. And seconds later, instead of talking with two ministers or the older man, Matt had found himself talking with a bright and friendly woman named Justine. A woman he’d already known he was very attracted to. She’d turned out to be not just beautiful, but kind and funny and wise, as well.
“Girls, say hello to Reverend Clemens,” he told the three children, as he held his youngest daughter in his arms.
“Hello, Reverend,” the older two girls said in unison.
Gina, his five year old imp, really did have all the curiosity of a kitten. She tilted her head, scrunched her face and obediently said, “Hi.” Then, in his ear and in a kind of wet stage whisper, she continued, “She’s a lady and she don’t look at all like Reverend Burns.”
Justine blinked, then laughed, clearly having heard. “All ministers aren’t men and we don’t all look like Reverend Burns.”
Gina stared at Justine for a moment. “Do you got a husband?” she asked, her curiosity obviously caught by the idea of a female minister.
“No,”