No Sanctuary. Helen Myers R.
Читать онлайн книгу.
buried completely, Bay held tight to her angst. “Mrs. Ridgeway, you’ll never know—this means the world to me. But how can you, as brilliant a businesswoman as you are, take this kind of risk?”
“I’m not suggesting it will be easy. First and foremost I’ll worry dreadfully about you being out there day and night by your lonesome. I’d be happier if you stayed here with me. The place is like a giant mausoleum with my dear son Duncan constantly traveling.” The instant Bay started to protest again, Madeleine held up her hand. “I know better than to ask. So I’ll chew on carrot sticks to burn up frustration and chip my nails punching in your number on my phone.”
Dazed, Bay struggled to find new words of thanks. This marvelous woman was throwing her completely off balance with her generosity. “Why are you being so good to me? Don’t you realize this might hurt your reputation socially as well as—okay, I’ll say it. What about your position in the church?”
“Ho-ho. No one there had better utter a peep, not one word. Not if they dare call themselves Christians in my presence. As for our pastor, Martin Davis has been wholly supportive of my mission since I first discussed the matter with him.” Madeleine grasped Bay’s hands. “Stop fighting me. Yes, I can see you are. This is the least I can do for someone who’s been so wronged. I’ll never forgive myself for not doing more sooner.”
“The D.A. was intent on getting me convicted. It would have been double the nightmare if he’d injured you somehow in the process.”
“Then we must all put that terrible time behind us. Oh, I know you can’t get back the years you lost, but you can rebuild your life. I know. I did it twice, remember, first when I lost my darling father and again when dear Herman passed so prematurely.”
Bay nodded remembering the story she’d shared about how each had devastated her.
“If it wasn’t for my son,” Madeleine continued, “I wouldn’t have found the strength to go on. I can be that rock for you, dear. I admire you enormously, your talent, as well as your endurance.”
“Maybe you should wait for proof there’s enough of that endurance left to be worth your while.” At the moment Bay was feeling a shadow of her former self, vulnerable and unsure.
“You need to find your footing, that’s all. This is your opportunity.”
It sounded too good to be true and Bay had firsthand experience about that unwritten law. “What about Holly? Once she learns what you’ve done—”
“She knows.”
One more shock and Bay was going to have to sit down. Holly Kirkland was aware that Madeleine Ridgeway was sponsoring her? Glenn’s former fiancée would never accept her presence in Tyler, let alone being the recipient of such benevolence at the hands of this good soul. “Mrs. Ridgeway, with all due respect, you’re way off on your perceptions about her. This is going to—I’m afraid she’ll see this as a betrayal.”
“You’ll remember that aside from being a member of our church, Holly is an employee and, as a result, she has a firsthand comprehension of what our foundation is about. Of course, if you do experience any negative behavior—by her or anyone—I want you to report it to me immediately.”
Bay couldn’t do that any more than she would have run to Sergeant Draper for help. “I’ve always handled my own problems.”
“Admirable, but no one disrespects my wishes. There, there.” Embracing her again, Madeleine ran her hand over Bay’s back in slow circles as though calming a high-strung thoroughbred. “It’ll all work out, you’ll see.
“Now in this envelope are keys, phone numbers I felt you might need, a bit of cash and a checkbook with a modest deposit to get started. It’s not charity. I know you too well. We’ll take it off what you’ll bill me for the Maiden. You’ll also find the hours for church services in there.”
Bay handed back the padded envelope. “I don’t do church.”
“You have to attend, dear. I’ve talked you up to the entire congregation, and I should tell you that our membership contains some of the most influential people in the city and beyond. Why do you think there aren’t vans from either of the local networks parked outside my property right now? Don’t you realize that as soon as you got into my car back at Gatesville, they knew where you were going? In any case, seeing your sweet face and how some things turn out for the good will provide sustenance to our congregation’s faith.”
Bay thought that was the longest stretch in any rationale Madeleine could have tried on her. “I’m sorry if this disappoints you, Mrs. Ridgeway, but I’ve never been religious.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to a service and guessed it was her mother’s funeral. Her father had been lucky she’d arranged for a graveside prayer for him.
“Madeleine,” her benefactress intoned. “How often am I going to have to tell you? Having witnessed your art and your courage, I consider you an equal. As for religion—”
A knock at the door stopped her. Releasing Bay, she stepped around her to greet the newcomer. “Martin. Your timing is divinely inspired. Help me assure your newest lamb that she’s as wanted as she is needed.”
Into the room stepped a short man with the merry eyes and chipmunk cheeks of a fairy-tale elf. Although his fifties-style pompadour barely reached Madeleine’s choker, he grasped her hand between both of his and bestowed a kiss to rival any gallant performance in a royal court. Before Bay could worry she was about to suffer the same greeting, he patted her hand. “Praise God for this day. Madeleine has worked tirelessly to bring you out of Satan’s den. Welcome, child. Welcome home to where you will be loved and nurtured.”
Somewhere on the south side of his fifth decade, the auburn lights in his lush hair suggested he used a stylist for more than a good cut and blow-dry. His summer-gray suit also spoke of attention to detail and complemented Madeleine’s silk suit. Accident or had they color-coordinated over the phone?
“Don’t be shy, dear,” Madeleine said. “Martin is as genuine as his smile. At our Christmas gala more children want to climb onto his lap than Santa’s.”
“Merely due to besting his girth, Maddie.”
Charming as the self-deprecation was, Pastor Davis could hardly hope to squeeze Saint Nick or the Pillsbury Doughboy out of a TV screen. He was simply, pleasantly plump.
“And you know better than to push,” he continued. To Bay he said, “We’ve always succeeded because we don’t pressure. Our message speaks for itself.”
Madeleine’s skepticism came out in a ladylike sniff. “If only I had half that success with some of the politicians in this city. The cold hard truth, Bay, dear, is that aside from the gift Martin’s sermons present, you need to understand that you’ll meet business contacts through your affiliation that wouldn’t necessarily be accessible to you elsewhere.”
Pressing a hand over his heart, Martin Davis groaned. “Maddie! How many times do I have to tell you that you’re my earthbound angel, not a networking guru?”
Bay held her breath wondering how her benefactress would take this, even gentle, scolding. Astonished, she listened to the older woman’s girlish laugh.
“You know me, Martin. I can’t just juggle two or four projects—lucky for you, too. In any case, it’s no fun if I don’t have to dodge a few bullets now and again.” To Bay she added, “You have to let me show you off. I expect you to sit beside me in the family pew, and ignore what Martin says. Modesty is his vice. He’ll be wounded if you’re not even slightly curious to hear how he’s become the rudder of the fastest-growing congregation in the Southwest.”
As Bay stood between the two, she knew she was trapped. Worse, she had no energy—correction confidence—yet to fight.
3
After a small, but awkward pause, Martin Davis cleared