About That Man. Sherryl Woods
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at this hour glanced up at him and waved, their friendly smiles a stark contrast to the hostile suspicion he was used to receiving back home.
Only after he’d turned a corner and set off along the wide, tree-lined street bordering the river did he realize that he no longer had the pleasantly cool morning to himself. He heard the slap of other sneakers on the pavement, the ragged breathing of a beginning runner and the steadier sounds of someone more experienced. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted a couple half a block behind. The woman waved, then nearly stumbled. The man caught her arm.
“Are you okay?” the man asked, gazing worriedly at her flushed face. “It’s only your second week. I can slow down.”
“No, no,” she said between gasps. “I can keep up.”
The man grinned at Walker, who jogged in place waiting for them.
“Stubborn as a mule,” the man observed when they were closer.
Walker winked at her, then admonished the man, “Hey, give her credit for trying.”
“That’s what I’ve been telling him,” she said, bent over at the waist as she tried to catch her breath. When she could finally speak without gasping, she added, “I think he’s just afraid I’ll collapse in a heap and he’ll have to carry me all the way home.” She held out her hand. “I’m Anna-Louise Walton, by the way. And you’re Walker Ames.” She chuckled at his surprise. “It’s a small town. I’ve gotten a full description from half the people in Trinity Harbor. Your arrival was big news.”
He regarded her with bemusement. “Why?”
It was the man who spoke up. “Speaking as a journalist, I can say it’s because the story has all the makings of a real tearjerker. Long-lost uncle comes to claim his orphaned nephew, pitting himself against the daughter of the town’s leading citizen.” He grinned. “By the way, I’m Richard Walton. I own the paper here. Anna-Louise is my wife, and before you mutter that curse that’s obviously on your lips, you should know she’s a minister.”
For the third time in less than twenty-four hours, Walker was shocked into silence by a woman in this town. Obviously the females in Trinity Harbor were a breed apart.
“Don’t worry,” Anna-Louise said to cover his apparent discomfort. “People say whatever they want in front of me. If I feel the need, I’ll pray for your soul later.”
“Good to know,” Walker said.
“So, how did it go yesterday with Tommy?” she asked. “And with Daisy?”
He wasn’t going to touch the topic of Daisy with this woman or anybody else. As for Tommy, he wasn’t sure what to say. “I wish I knew,” he said eventually. “Tommy has a lot of understandable resentment where I’m concerned.”
Anna-Louise nodded sympathetically. “Look, since I’m obviously winded and pathetically out of shape anyway, why don’t we go get some coffee? Maybe I can help.”
“Or we could just leave the man alone and let him handle his own life,” Richard countered, regarding his wife with amused tolerance. “Anna-Louise likes to meddle.”
“It’s not meddling. It’s my job,” she chided.
“Only when a member of your congregation actually asks for help,” Richard reminded her. “Walker’s barely been in town for a full day, he’s never set foot in your church and I haven’t heard him ask for any advice.”
She laughed. “Okay, so sometimes I anticipate a need before it’s expressed. Sue me.” She regarded Walker hopefully. “How about that coffee?”
Because he was willing to listen to advice from any quarter, Walker nodded. “Lead the way.”
“Earlene’s is the only place open for breakfast,” she said. “The coffee is strong and the country ham and eggs are worth trying if you don’t give a hang about your cholesterol. At this time of the morning we should have a shot at getting a booth. The regulars don’t start coming in for another half hour or so, and Fridays don’t bring out the tourists this time of the year. Tomorrow’s another story.” She turned to her husband. “Coming with us?”
“Nope. I might be too tempted to put something you say in confidence on the front page of next week’s paper.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to a word he says,” she told Walker. “Richard is the most ethical man I know. He just wants to gloat later that he finished his run and I pooped out.”
Richard leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to her lips, then grinned. “That too,” he said. “Nice meeting you, Walker. If you stick around, maybe we can get together and talk about D.C. I used to work there myself.”
“Really?”
“Well, for the paper, anyway. I was a foreign correspondent, so I never spent all that much time in Washington, but I certainly kept up with the politics.”
Walker nodded as recognition dawned. “You’re that Richard Walton. You wrote some damn fine pieces from some pretty awful war zones. Won quite a few awards, too, as I recall. I thought your byline had been missing for a while now.”
“Fours years. I took a leave of absence when my grandmother got sick. Then Anna-Louise and I got married and I bought the paper in my hometown. When she got the transfer here, I bought this one and brought an old buddy in as editor of the one over there.”
“Now he’s a media mogul,” Anna-Louise teased.
“Two weeklies do not an empire make,” Richard retorted. “Besides, I like it here.” He gave his wife another kiss. “Don’t lose this job. I don’t want another paper to worry about.”
She laughed. “I didn’t lose the last job. I just got an irresistible offer. King Spencer can be very persuasive.”
“So I’ve heard,” Walker said.
“Oh, good, then we can talk about him, too,” she said. “See you later, honey.”
“Should I be bothered by the fact that you’re suddenly so eager to be rid of me and spend time with another man?” Richard teased. “Is the honeymoon finally over?”
“You’ll have to decide that for yourself,” she said, then led Walker off in the opposite direction.
On the walk to the small riverside restaurant, which sat next to a weeping willow just beginning to get its pale green leaves, silence fell. At first Walker felt the need to fill it, but he realized very quickly that Anna-Louise was one of those rare women who didn’t expect conversation. She seemed perfectly content with the quiet.
The restaurant’s windows were shaded by blue and white awnings. Pots of just watered flowers sat beneath. Bicycles were propped against the building.
Inside Earlene’s, there was indeed a last booth available. The gray-haired waitress had their coffee cups filled practically before they’d slid into their seats. She gave Walker a thorough once-over, but didn’t ask any questions. Either she’d already guessed who he was, or she was the only person in town who kept her curiosity in check.
Instead of asking about him, she turned to Anna-Louise. “Honey, you look plumb worn-out. Has Richard been making you run again?”
The minister grinned. “He doesn’t make me. I’m trying to get healthy.”
“If you ask me, there is nothing healthy about working up a sweat on a day God just meant to be enjoyed.”
Anna-Louise’s expression grew thoughtful. “You know, Earlene, you could be right. Maybe there’s a sermon in that.”
Earlene patted her hand. “Honey, that’s why you’re so popular. You find sermons in all the everyday things people can relate to.”
When the woman had taken their orders and moved on to other new arrivals, Walker studied the woman opposite him. Funny, now that