Seducing The Proper Miss Miller. Anne Marie Winston
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out of town through the green countryside, she told herself that a phone call simply wouldn’t have done the job. Thad had risked his life to save her. She certainly owed him a personal thank-you. As she crossed the creek and turned onto a narrow road that led past a hog farm, she wondered again why he hadn’t come to see her, either in the hospital or since.
Then she remembered the way her father had treated him in the office just last week. Thad probably didn’t want to run into that kind of attitude again. Suddenly she felt much better. She ignored the little voice inside her head that reminded her that Geiserville was a very small town, and like most towns of its size, it would have been extremely easy for Thad to find out when her father was visiting and when he left.
Past the hog farm, she entered a small wood. She was looking for a house, so she almost missed the rusting metal trailer tucked back in a clearing. As it was, she had to reverse and check the mailbox again to be sure she had the correct address.
Could this be right?
The trailer once had been an odd shade of aqua and white, but decades of neglect had faded the white and dulled the aqua unevenly where some patches had received more sun than others. Rusty stains of orange and brown oozed dry rivulets of corrosion from every seam. The pathetic structure’s only saving grace was the well-maintained landscaping that surrounded it. She recognized the swollen glory of forsythia about to bloom, the variegated leaves of the mountain laurel, lilac, rhododendron and pussy willow catkins. Shoots poked from the ground, signaling the advent of iris, tulips and bushes of sweet-scented peony. Even this early in the year it was obvious that someone cared for things that grew.
Chloe checked the numbers on the mailbox one more time. Yes, this was definitely Thad’s address from the telephone book.
Turning left off the road, she directed the rental car onto the rutted lane that disappeared around the other side of the trailer. A smaller building, hidden by the trees, came into view. Beside it was parked a late-model truck and she realized the pickup she’d seen Thad driving when he was working on the church probably had met the same fate her car had.
This second building was far newer than the first, built of sturdy cinder block. At first she thought it was a garage, but there was no bay for a truck.
Climbing from her car, she started to follow the driveway back to the modest front door of the trailer, but the high whining sound of some kind of machine caught her attention. She cocked her head to listen. The sound was coming from the cinder block structure, so she started in that direction.
A poured cement rectangle served as a porch. Chloe stepped onto it and peered through the dusty panes of glass, but she couldn’t see anyone. Lifting a hand, she rapped sharply on the door with her knuckles.
The whining motor stopped abruptly. Footsteps clomped across the floor, and the door was yanked open.
Thad was framed in the doorway. Despite the brisk April breeze outside, he was shirtless again. When he caught sight of her standing on the doorstep, his eyebrows rose in surprise. “Well, look what the breeze blew in. What brings you out this way?”
The warn greeting she had planned died in her throat. “I...I, uh, wanted to thank you for getting me out of the church.” She tried a smile.
“No big deal.” He grabbed a sweatshirt from the back of a nearby chair and pulled it over his head, shoving his arms through the cut-off sleeves and pulling it as far down his broad chest as it would go. “I’ve already been thanked. There was no need for you to drive all the way out here.”
Confusion at his attitude and a depth of hurt that she wouldn’t acknowledge cut into her. But she had driven out here, and she was determined to have her say.
“I don’t believe many people would have gone back into the church after me. You saved my life, and I’m here in person to thank you because I wanted to, not because I needed to.” Her gaze dropped to the ground, and she swept the toe of one polished pump restlessly across the concrete, sweeping away minute specks of mud. “You have no idea how many people have come into my office to tell me how proud they are that I managed to save so many files and records. They all tell me that was quick thinking, but the truth is, I was an idiot, staying in that building so long.”
Thad was silent, and when she finally looked up at him, a half smile flirted at one corner of his mouth. “I’d have to agree with that.”
Chloe smiled back, a bubble of happiness welling up inside her. “I still can’t believe I did that.”
“I can’t believe you did, either. I won’t repeat the words I said to myself while I was running back inside after you.”
She giggled. “I bet the sight of you hauling me out of there was pretty funny.”
Thad smiled with her. “I was too busy to notice if anyone was laughing.” Then he nodded, as if in approval. “I’m sure that quick thinking you’re so determined not to take credit for saved the church a tremendous amount of trouble. Just think what it would have been like to have to try to piece together all those records.”
She shuddered in mock dread. “That was all I could think of. I learned early to be practical. It isn’t a habit that goes away.”
He straightened away from the door frame and stepped outside with her. The stoop immediately seemed too small and crowded, though she moved to one side to give him space. Thad took a deep breath of the moist spring air and loudly exhaled it. “Ah, this is great. I needed a break.” Then he turned to pin her with a penetrating gaze again. “Why did you learn to be practical early? And what’s ‘early’ mean?”
Chloe shook her head, fondly recalling her childhood. “My father spent most of his life with his head in the clouds. Somebody had to be practical.”
“How about your mother? Didn’t she fill the bill?”
“My mother died when I was nine. Daddy wasn’t cut out for running a household, especially one with a child. He had a hard time remembering essential details like grocery shopping and paying bills. I think he simply had too many other thoughts in his head.”
“Being a pastor doesn’t leave room for parenting?” Thad appeared to be genuinely curious rather than critical.
“Daddy takes good care of those who need him in our congregation, even when they don’t realize they need him. I was part of his team, rather than one of his responsibilities, and I liked it that way.”
Thad had sobered at her last words. Now he looked away from her, squinting at the bright light dappling the woods beyond his garden. “Part of his team...that sounds cozy. My childhood was more of a solo flight.”
How did one respond to that? Chloe paused, searching for the right thing to say. But there was no right thing. The gossip she’d heard about him sprang into her head, that he’d run wild as a child, that his mother had entertained men on a regular basis, which was the church folks’ way of saying she slept around. Chloe stood in tongue-tied silence, and after a moment he glanced back at her, his expression mocking.
“Sorry if my upbringing offends your Christian sensibilities. Unfortunately, everybody doesn’t live by your high standards.”
“I’m not offended.” She felt color springing to her cheeks. “I was merely weighing my words. You have this prickly attitude that makes me afraid I’ll offend you. I was thinking that flying solo is a really tough way to grow up.”
“It is.” Thad exhaled, absently running a hand over his chest, but he didn’t volunteer anything more. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little defensive.”
A little? She almost laughed aloud. Thad waved his indifference to people’s opinion in their faces like a matador challenging a bull. But since he’d just apologized, she supposed it wasn’t the time to tell him so.
“So what are you working on now that you don’t have to remodel the church?” Perhaps a change of subject was for the best.
He glanced behind him into his wood shop. “I have several