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.Among the hanger-on-ers, the Dewi's delegation clustered together, except Claire LaRue.She strolled up wearing earrings shaped like wreathes that matched the sparkling image on her blue sweatshirt.“Well, hi, y'all.”“Hello, Claire.” Sam extended his hand to her even as he sensed Nic bristling in the woman's general direction.He understood Nic's reservation.When he learned his old pal from his wayward youth Reggie LaRue had married a girl Collier's age, Sam had figured ol' Reg had had to search out someone too young to know better.After his first few weeks in town he'd changed his opinion, and not for the better.Reggie had simply found someone who held the same worldview, Sam decided, based on town talk and the fact that Claire and Reggie's car was often among the first to arrive at Dewi's on Sundays.It had surprised him to see Claire here with her children and to see how much she tried to really throw herself into the festivities.As a man who had suffered from unfair judgment, it dogged him now to see he might have indulged in the same thing himself.Still, aware that Claire had just come from chatting with people who made no bones about disliking his presence in their town and in this pulpit, he remained cautious.“So good to see you and your family out to support the church tonight.”“Well, if you can't count on the support of an old friend, who can you count on? Right, Nicolette?” She smiled a bit too brightly.“Hmm.” Nic smiled back, sort of.“Are you a friend of my mommy and Reverend Sam's?” Willa craned her neck, her head sort of weaving and swaying as she watched Claire.Sam followed the movement and realized the child was following the movements of the woman's enormous earrings.“Truth to tell, they are more like old friends of my husband's, sweetheart.The three of them go way back.”Nic put her hand on Willa's shoulder.Her eyes shot daggers but she kept her lips sealed.“In fact, their friendship goes back to way before Reggie and I were married.Longer than even.” She tipped her head, her short red hair falling against her neck as she tapped her cheek.“What is that expression, Nic?”Nic turned as if suddenly fascinated by the tree beside them.“I'm sure I don't know what you—”“Oh, I remember!” Claire snapped her fingers.She fixed her gaze directly on Sam, like a cat honed in on a helpless mouse.“Since before you were a gleam in your daddy's eye.”Nic pulled Willa close.Sam shook his head, not quite sure where the woman was going.“I don't have a daddy.” Willa blinked up at Claire.That catlike grin went softer then.The faint lines around her eyes framed them in warmth and kindness as she put her hand beneath Willa's chin.“Maybe that's not the saying after all, sugar.We'll just leave it that they've been friends of my husband's for a long, long time.”“Then y'all should come to church.” Willa did not shake her finger in admonishment but she might as well have.“Willa, show a little respect, young lady.” That it cost Nic to remind her child to pay deference to Claire showed in her tight jaw and rigid back.Claire laughed.“No, no.She's right.We should come to church.”“We'd love to have you there.” Sam wasn't lying.He would like to see Claire and her children in his church if they came with open hearts to worship God.The churning in the pit of his stomach testified that he did not think that would happen.“Bring Reggie, too.”“Not a bad idea.That man could use some religion.” She laughed.Sam tried to join in but could not make it sound natural.Nic didn't even try.“Speaking of that man, I better get back and take care of him.Hope you don't mind that my boys each picked out a cookie to take to him.”“Not at all.We need to be getting Willa home, as well.”“We? You mean the three of you going to your one home, together?”“We all live in the same house,” Willa piped up.“So I've heard, darling.”“I rented that space in the Dorsey house months before the family—the whole family—came down for their holiday stay.”“Did I suggest otherwise?” She practically pouted like a hurt child as she spoke.Nic shifted her feet and huffed.“No.” Sam put on his best preacher-in-the-pulpit face in order not to fuel any talk that he had implied Claire LaRue was a liar or gossip.All the while he searched her eyes for any sign of what she might be one or the other, or both.“Of course not [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]