Her Perfect Match (5 page)

Meg headed toward the house. She had phone calls to make and a little matchmaking to do. Elizabeth and Jack would make a lovely couple now that she thought about it. She’d foolishly promised Cole to stay out of his and CJ’s business, but Jack and Elizabeth…now they were another story altogether.

She wouldn’t do much. Maybe just a little push in the right direction for both of them.

E
lizabeth stood at the big window in the living room of the carriage house she’d taken over several years ago, watching the front gate for Meg Taggert’s silver BMW to arrive. She wanted to get to the car before her parents saw her leaving at nine o’clock on a Sunday morning with Meg. It was bound to cause questions, and quite frankly Elizabeth wasn’t in the mood for a cross-examination. She didn’t really feel they had the right to question anything she chose to do with her life. They’d given up that right long ago.

Her mother’s sudden interest in her after a lifetime of ignoring her or noticing her only sporadically was grating at best. She was sure the sudden interest was no more healthy than at other times when one or both of her parents had suddenly taken an interest in her. If it had been, Elizabeth would feel different. But theirs was always a self-centered kind of attention she didn’t need a psychology degree to know wasn’t
healthy. Because those times were always about something they wanted from her.

She remembered vaguely her beautiful mother primping her little dresses and showing her off to friends, then turning her over to Maggie in cold anger because she’d gotten her outfit dirty.

Later, when she’d shown a slight talent for riding, her father had become fixated on her winning the gold medal that had escaped him. She’d spent what felt to a child like every waking moment eating, breathing and sleeping event riding. Then in a routine screening at school she’d been diagnosed with slight scoliosis. At eleven and twelve, having to wear a back brace should have been devastating but, other than the discomfort, it had been a relief because she couldn’t ride in competitions. Reginald Boyer had lost interest quickly, and the respite had lasted until Jason Lexington’s attack brought her to her mother’s attention.

And for the next four years, until Elizabeth’s coming-out ball, Louise Boyer had schooled her daughter in perfection. Perfect hair. Perfect diction. Perfect posture. Perfect everything!

Then, blessedly, she’d been forgotten by both of them—until now. Now they wanted Elizabeth to magically transform herself into the perfect marriage trap. This time, though, they’d met with an immovable obstacle. Her mother’s creation couldn’t cast out lures. Her creation couldn’t bring a man “up to scratch.” Her creation was flawed deep inside where no one could see. Where no one could reach.

Even the creation herself.

Even when she wanted to—in the arms of the only man she’d ever found herself attracted to.

The attraction was so foreign to her she hadn’t even realized why Jack made her so much more on edge and nervous than other men did—and those reactions had been bad enough. She’d thought it was instant dislike and had been perfectly happy with her theory. Then Jack rode to her rescue in Village Green and helped her with Brian Hobart. And he hadn’t stopped there. He’d taken the time to sit in the café and talk to her until she was calm enough to go off on her own.

She thought Jack was a very nice man, though he seemed to go out of his way to hide it. He certainly hadn’t been very nice yesterday. He was a bit of a mystery, but then so, she supposed, was she. Even more so after her performance at Laurel Glen yesterday when Jack had pointed out CJ and Cole riding. In the joy of the moment Elizabeth—glad to be with Jack and glad to see Cole with CJ—had forgotten Cole’s lie about the two of them. Then Jack had said something about her attitude that in retrospect sounded remarkably like sour grapes. She’d ridden off because some unreasonable form of logic had shortcircuited every brain cell she had, telling her that he should know Cole had lied.

Then, to make matters worse, when he’d caught up to her, he’d kissed her the way he’d clearly been wanting to do and the way she had wanted, too. But like a specter from the bowels of the earth, the heat of his body so near had opened the door to the place
where she hid the effects of that long-ago afternoon when a spoiled boy had robbed her of her identity and turned her into a victim. Not wanting Jack to see her fear or the tears of frustration that were fighting their way to the surface, she’d confirmed all his suspicions and much more just to get away from his penetrating gaze.

Elizabeth shook off her dark thoughts as Meg’s BMW careened through the gate, disappeared for a few seconds, then screeched to a halt below the window. She tooted her horn, and Elizabeth waved then picked up her purse, trying to settle her a nervous stomach. At that moment she didn’t know what had possessed her to agree to go with Meg. The only times in her life she’d been to church had been for weddings and funerals.

Of course, yesterday Elizabeth had been home and crying for about an hour when she’d answered the phone to Meg’s reassuring voice. That could be one reason. She had to admit any suggestion that might provide a direction for her search for peace would have been welcome at that point. She knew there had to be something out there to bring her a little respite and to wipe away the feeling of Jason Lexington’s hands on her. Whether Elizabeth would find her answers at church remained to been seen.

By the time they rolled into the parking lot of the Tabernacle, Meg’s church, Elizabeth found herself relaxing in the face of the older woman’s friendly chatter. The pastor was Jim Dillon, a nice-looking man in his late thirties or early forties. She’d met him first at
Jeff and Hope’s wedding last August and again in November when Ross and Amelia were married. Still no one was more surprised than she when he recognized her.

“Elizabeth. Right?” he asked as he took her hand. “Cole’s friend?”

“Yes. How could you remember? We only met twice before.”

Jim Dillon shrugged and jostled the slightly fussy infant cradled in his arm. The little vision in pink looked up and gave her father a toothless grin. “Probably because we met at weddings. Other than baby dedications I like weddings the most of all my extra duties as a pastor.” The identical infant in his wife’s arms flailed her hand into Elizabeth. “This is my wife, Holly. And the budding gymnast she’s holding is Rachel. This is Leigh. I think she’s going to be the bookish type.”

The young boy standing next to Jim Dillon snorted and spoke in a surprising British-sounding accent. “Dad, she can’t even hold a book yet without ripping it to pieces.”

They all laughed when Jim shrugged sheepishly. “Well, she’s fascinated with the tearing sound. You have to give me that. Elizabeth, we’re glad to see you here, and I hope you’re blessed by the service,” he said and greeted a large family coming up the walk as if they were old friends.

The rock music and singing as they entered wasn’t what she thought of as hymns, but the sound and words were very moving. She could see these people
felt their faith keenly, and that in itself made her more than curious. Minutes later, when Jim Dillon approached the stage, smiling and with a spring in his step, she knew he was exactly where he belonged in the universe. If only she could figure out the same thing for herself.

Deep in thought, Elizabeth missed a great deal of what he said after a few lighthearted lines that had laughter rippling through the congregation. Toward the end of his sermon Jim Dillon said something funny about Saint Peter’s predilection toward putting his foot in his mouth, and a low chuckle from off to her right drew her attention.

If lightning had suddenly sparked through the room, Elizabeth couldn’t have been more surprised. Jack Alton was in church. And the Tabernacle of all churches. She’d heard Cole’s opinion of the congregation, and while it had been meant sarcastically, it had also been something of a compliment to its members. This was not a church for the faint of heart or someone into relativism. This was a back-to-basics kind of church, holding to traditional moral values and strict adherence to biblical principles. But then again he had not discounted the idea that God had changed Jeff Carrington. He’d supported it.

So what did all that say about Jack Alton?

Later, standing with Meg enjoying a cup of tea in a quiet corner of the church hall, Elizabeth voiced that question to Meg.

“I think it says he’s a good man,” Meg replied. “At least that’s what I’m counting on.”

Elizabeth frowned at the cryptic answer. “Counting on it?” she asked, then before Meg could clarify what she’d meant, Elizabeth understood what Meg must be referring to. “Oh, yes. Of course. He’d be trustworthy, and in his position at Laurel Glen that would be important.”

“Something like that,” Meg answered. “So what do you think of him?”

Elizabeth tried to sound unaffected and disinterested. “He and I got off to a bad start. We had several altercations. But then he helped me when a man accosted me in Village Green about the shelter. Jack sent him on his way and he talked me into sitting with him in the café because I was badly shaken. We had a nice chat. But…” Hesitating, Elizabeth squeezed the bridge of her nose, not accustomed to confiding in anyone.

“But?” Meg prodded.

Needing advice and to confide in someone, Elizabeth pressed on. “Yesterday, when I was at Laurel Glen, Jack said some things about Cole and me. Meg, I don’t know if Cole has set the record straight with your family the way he promised to, but I need you to understand about us. He and I are only friends. And friends is all we’ve ever been. It was the same with Jeff. I know Hope misunderstood about Jeff and why I was with him at that dance she’d asked him to. I was there to see Cole, and that was only to repay an old debt to him.”

Meg raised her left eyebrow. It was such a Taggert trait that it made Elizabeth smile. “It was you he was
with that night in the police car, wasn’t it?” Meg asked.

Elizabeth nodded, feeling her cheeks heat. “He picked me up after he stole it, then he made me see I was being foolish about some things.”

“I’d just about figured that out and more,” Meg said, setting down her cup and plate on a nearby table. “It’s our fault Cole confirmed the families’ suspicion about your relationship. I fear he did it to keep us from matchmaking. Had we not assumed…But, in our defense, my nephew and Jeff had or still have certain reputations where women are concerned, and your parents travel in what could be called the fast lane, so we just assumed you—” Meg halted again and shook her head. “It was wrong to judge you on appearances. I’m so sorry. And I’ll certainly spread the word within the family and to a certain foreman, too, if that would help.”

Thinking about the way she froze in Jack’s arms, Elizabeth wasn’t sure she wanted him aware of how available she was. A profound disappointment fell over her. If only she’d found the magic elixir inside the Tabernacle. She’d found a measure of peace during the hour and a half of the service, but now the old familiar brittle tension had begun creeping back.

“You seemed to enjoy the service,” Elizabeth heard Meg say. “Would you like to come with me next week?”

Elizabeth smiled. An hour and a half’s worth of peace and tranquillity was better than nothing, wasn’t it? “I’d like that. Yes,” she said.

“And how are you two lovely ladies today?” Jack Alton asked from behind her. Elizabeth gasped and dropped her cup. The contents splashed, and Meg jumped to avoid being sprayed.

“I’m so sorry, Meg,” Elizabeth said. She grabbed a stack of napkins and stooped to mop up the spill.

Jack was on the floor across from her in a split second, taking the napkins from her, mopping up the spill. “No, here. Let me get this. It was my fault for startling you. I’m sorry.” He looked into her eyes, and in his a quiet kind of sadness brewed. “‘I’m sorry’ is all I ever seem to say to you.”

“Well, I can see I’m suddenly superfluous around here,” Meg said from somewhere above them. “I think I’ll mingle, dears, and leave you two to your apologies and the cleanup. Elizabeth, I’ll meet you at the front of the church…whenever. Ta!”

The spill sopped up, Jack stood and bent to take her hand. Elizabeth reached out, surprising herself with her desire to touch his solid strength. Once she was on her feet, he released her hand and looked around for a trash can, which was across the room near the food. Elizabeth was surprised to feel bereft of his touch.

When he returned to her side with a fresh cup of tea for her, she accepted it with a smile and asked him, “What brings you here?”

Elizabeth was curious and maybe just a little hopeful to hear his reply. She didn’t know much about being a churchgoer but she was sure it said something
about a man when he came to church on his own with no woman prodding him.

“Here as in the Tabernacle? I guess the companionship of fellow believers, mostly. And the lessons I learn about life from the sermons.”

Disappointment made her frown. That wasn’t what she’d come there looking for. Was she once again on the wrong path? “Nothing else? You don’t find anything deeper here?”

“Deeper?” he asked, his expression thoughtful at first then a bit guarded.

“Now it’s me who’s sorry. That was too personal a question.”

He shook his head. “No. No, it’s fine. You’re right. I just didn’t think you’d be interested. Things in my life are a little up in the air right now. I made some decisions, but I didn’t ask the Lord about them first. Every time I’ve ever done that it’s backfired on me. So I guess I’m looking for a little peace, a sense that right now I’m where I belong. What brings you here?”

“Meg invited me and…” she hesitated and shrugged. There was only so much she could say without letting him know what an emotional mess she was. “I’m not altogether sure.”

She could tell he was as unsatisfied with her answer as she had been with his first one. Before he could ask another question she wanted to clear up the mistaken impression he had of her. She should have done it yesterday and not lied to cover her fear and vulnerability.

“I lied to you, Jack,” she said in a rush before she could chicken out. “Cole and I are friends. That’s all we’ve ever been. He’s terribly attracted to CJ but afraid of hurting her and, I think, of being hurt himself. He set me up as a barrier between them. That’s one of the reasons I’ve been making myself so scarce.”

Which, she thought now that confession time was over, she should do once again. There was no way she could tell him about Jason Lexington or the fear he left her with. There was no way she could stand there and watch his eyes dim with distaste the way her father’s had when her mother told him what had happened to her in the woods near the school. She couldn’t stand there feeling dirty when she wanted to be pure and untouched by ugliness.