Carrie turned to Maddie. "Dinner's ready, if you are, Grandma."

Peter helped Maddie to rise and guided her into the kitchen with his hand firmly supporting her elbow.

"I hope you don't mind eating in the kitchen," Carrie told him as they pa.s.sed her. "There's a lovely view

of the backyard and it's much homier than the big table in the dining room." Carrie glanced at Maddie and looked back at Peter. She had confidence that a man in his position knew the score. "The housekeeper said sometimes there are accidents..." she added softly for his ears only. Peter nodded in understanding and took a seat at the small round table after the elderly ladies were settled next to each other. Carrie set the serving dishes on trivets in the center of the table and sat down beside him. She suddenly had second thoughts about eating in the kitchen. It might have been better in the dining room where they wouldn't have to sit so close together. Maddie was thinking clearly enough to ask Peter to say the grace. To create a prayer circle, he held his hands out to Maddie and Carrie. The others all clasped hands before Carrie slid hers into his.

Her hand felt cool against his despite the warmth of the summer day. Their gazes locked, and it was she who bowed her head and closed her eyes first. Help me not to feel this way when I'm near him, Carrie prayed, feeling the warmth of his hand far beyond where they touched. "We thank you for bringing Carrie back to Sunville," Peter prayed aloud. "May her visit be a blessing for all of us." He went on to thank the Lord for their dinner and the fellowship of those gathered there.

"Amen." "Amen," the others chorused. After raising his head and holding Carrie's gaze for a few moments longer, he squeezed her hand before he released it. Carrie dropped her hands to her lap and looked at her fork. For a moment, she couldn't remember what she was supposed to do with it.

"I understand you live and work in Fargo," Peter said over his shoulder to Carrie as he picked up a serving dish to hold for Maddie as she helped herself.

Carrie's head jerked up. What has he heard about me? Nothing, please, make it nothing. She drew in a deep breath and told him briefly about the company and the magazines they produced.

"I know a couple of those magazines. You sound like you like the publishing business," he said sounding genuinely interested.

She began to relax a little. "Yes, my job keeps me very busy," she offered. "It's one of those jobs that if I don't finish at the office, I bring the work home with me." In fact, she funneled all her energies into her work, but she didn't tell him that.

"What do you do exactly?"

Carrie felt uneasy again because she was talking so much about herself. "Well, I'm an a.s.sistant to an editor. I do more proof reading than I like, but I do enjoy the copy editing. I also get to write some things once in a while. There was a period a while ago when I didn't write anything for several years, but now I'm getting back to it and I love that."

"You'd like to write more?" She nodded. "Must have been hard not to write anything for several years."

"Yes." Carrie felt the pain wash over her as if it was fresh from five years ago. "I... I wrote something that was involved in a very painful experience. I've wished for years that I hadn't." She drew in a deep breath. "It was off-putting to say the least."

"But if you love writing, it's good you're getting back into it."

"It's my dream. I just finished several stories for young beginning readers."

"That's wonderful, Carrie. When will they be published?" Bette asked.

"I don't know if they ever will," she said with a self-conscious laugh. "I sent them to a publisher of childrens' books just over a month ago. It will probably be months more before I hear from them. Then if they don't buy them, I'll keep trying and send them to another company," Carrie explained. "In the meantime I try to content myself with writing what my boss tells me to and keeping up with the copy editing and proofreading."

"That takes a special eye. Proofreading is so hard to get right. We could use someone like you to proofread our church newsletter before we send it out each month. A mistake never fails to rear its annoying head in each issue," Peter said, grinning as he did so often.

Carrie liked his grin. His whole face lit up. Made her feel like smiling, too, even when there wasn't much in her life to be happy about. Wouldn't it be wonderful if there was?

"Anyone can look right at a mistake without seeing it. I'm not immune to doing that."

"I'll bet you're very good at your job," Peter suggested.

"Well, I work hard, but I have a long way to go. I may have to move to Minneapolis or Chicago or even New York next to get experience with a bigger publisher."

Peter merely nodded, and Carrie was glad he let the subject of her job drop. She'd shared her dream of being an author some day. At least he hadn't made fun of her writing childrens' books as her boss had.

"Kids' books?" her boss had asked when she'd asked advice about what publisher to send them to. "What do you want to write for little kids' for? Unless you've got a gimmick that will create a series, you'll never get rich."

She didn't understand that Carrie wrote the stories because she loved doing it, not to get rich. Money was not that important to her. It was the thought of happy children enjoying reading her stories that made her happy.

As Carrie and the others finished their dinner, she watched Peter draw each one of them into the conversation with an ease born of having done it almost daily for years. In fact, he was so considerate of Maddie and Bette as well as herself, that Carrie decided he related to each of them equally in the same honest and friendly fashion. She could tell he must love his job because he was very good at it. He always seemed to be enjoying it, judging from the amount of time a smile appeared on his lips.

Carrie found her gaze returning to him again and again. She wanted to feel relieved that he didn't seem to be singling her out for any special attention as they chatted. While under different circ.u.mstances of time and place, she might be attracted to him, she didn't want his attentions on her here.

So then why did she feel somewhat disappointed?

Carrie jerked her gaze down to her calf-length skirt that draped to the floor beside her chair. She was astounded that she felt an interest in him. It had to stop.

This is Peter, Maddie's pastor, she repeated to herself. He lives in the little town you want to escape. Remember that!

"I've got to tell you that turkey with riced potatoes and gravy are high on my list of favorite foods," Peter said after the last bite.

"I saw the turkey in the grocery store yesterday and couldn't resist because I don't get it very often."

Carrie stood and began clearing the dinner plates. Peter jumped up and reached for the serving dishes to help.

"Thanks," she said, thinking how modern it was of him to offer his a.s.sistance.

She didn't remember that the men at the Sunville church ever did anything to help at the dinners there. The men sat and talked while the women served dinner and while the women cleared the tables and washed the dishes, too.

Could it be that Peter believed that clearing tables and doing dishes weren't just women's work? Pressing the point, she said, "If you want to clear the rest, I'll get dessert."

"Happy to," he responded easily, making more trips from the table to the counter beside the white double sink.

A man in Sunville who liked to help in the kitchen? Maybe she should begin to believe in miracles again.

Chapter Four.

Carrie had tried to make dessert a treat for Maddie. She could only hope the others wouldn't think it too childish because she hadn't figured on company when she'd made her selection. She lifted out the raspberry gelatin that Maddie loved from the side-by-side refrigerator and cut the shallow panful into small squares. She scooped the jiggling chunks into sherbet dishes to serve along with packaged cookies.

"I wish I'd had time to bake homemade cookies."

Peter stepped up behind her and reached over her arm to pop one of the red cubes into his mouth.

"It's not very fancy," she said, amazed at how much at ease she felt, working side-by-side with him.

"This is fun to eat and it tastes as good as ever." Without waiting for her response, Peter picked up two desserts and placed them down in front of Maddie and Bette.

"Oh, look Bette. My favorite kind," Maddie said with a smile. "Thank you, dear."

Carrie was delighted she'd remembered correctly. She set down her own dessert while Peter seated himself at his place. She moved to set his dessert on his placemat, but he took the stemmed dish from her with both hands. His hands covered hers and pressed gently as he took possession of the refreshing dessert.

"Thanks." His remarkable smile appeared.

"You're welcome," Carrie mumbled as she slipped her hands free of his. Looking across the table at the smiling elderly faces watching them, she decided Peter's happy facial expression seemed to be contagious.

By the time dessert was finished and they had chatted in the living room for a short while, Maddie's head had bobbed once or twice with sleep. Peter prepared to take his leave and she looked up more alertly. He stooped to place a thank-you kiss on her delicate powdered cheek.

"Thanks for inviting me, Maddie. Dinner was delicious, but you know, now it'll be harder to go back to my own cooking," he remarked with a dramatic teasing sigh.

"You should get married," Maddie told him as if the solution to his dilemma was simple. "Get a wife to do your cooking. Find someone like Carrie who's not spoken for anymore. She'll feed you right."

"Grandma!" Carrie said aghast. Before continuing she tempered her voice while still making her point. "Peter doesn't plan to marry a woman so she can cook his meals for him. And besides, a woman nowadays wants more out of life than being a cook and bottle washer."

Peter stepped around Maddie's chair to stand beside Carrie. His smile was gone, but the merriment was still in his eyes. "Shucks. The way you said that, you sound like you won't marry me, even if I promised to do my share of the cooking and the dishes," he said dramatically.

She opened her mouth to respond and noticed that all three faces were looking at her expectantly. "And be stuck here in Tiny-town?" she asked, hoping she sounded just as light. "No way. You don't know how determined I've been to get out. I'll take the city over this country town any day. Besides, I'm not looking to get married--to you or anyone."

Thinking that wasn't exactly true and she didn't want to fib to a pastor, she amended, "Marriage isn't in my plans now, I mean. Not yet."

No one spoke. She glanced around the table to find everyone looking at her. All their smiles had disappeared. Carrie worried that she'd changed the mood in the room by putting him down. "See? Now you don't have to worry. You're off the hook," she added with a little one-shouldered shrug, trying to be funny and lighten the mood again.

"Well, Maddie, I guess she's going to make me wait," he said with a conspiratorial wink. "Thanks again for having me to dinner though."

"We'll have to have you over more often, now that Carrie's here to cook. Yes, real soon. John loves having company."

After Peter said goodbye to Bette, she stayed with Maddie in the living room. Carrie and Peter strolled over to the back door where he slipped into his loafers.

"Maddie said you're 'not spoken for anymore'?" Peter asked without warning.

Carrie's fingers turned cold and she felt the blood leaving her cheeks as she thought about what "anymore" meant. "Ah, no. Ah, I was once engaged to someone, but not any more."

He nodded, but did not speak. He looked over at her as if he expected her to continue.

"That was a long time ago," she said, closing the subject.

He pulled on the other shoe. "Maddie thinks of John as being here with her?" he asked.

"Yes," Carrie responded, happy he'd dropped the subject of her late fiance. "They were married a lot of years before Grandpa died, and all of them were spent in this house. That's why I'm trying to find someone who can live here and care for her so she can continue living at home."

He straightened and looked right at her, his eyebrows pressed toward each other in a frown. "That someone can't be you? I understood that's why you were here."

Carrie shook her head. "I don't know who you've been talking to about me, but you shouldn't believe everything you hear."

He interrupted her. "No, I haven't talked about you with anyone. The church secretary told me Maddie's granddaughter had come to take care of her now. That's all."

"Well, I can't stay here. Grandma needs a trained care-giver. And I have a job in Fargo I have to get back to," Carrie answered more sharply than she had intended.

"Right. Your job. And you said how much you like living in the city."

Something in his voice made her feel more defensive. "I do like living in Fargo. There's so much going on all the time."

"Sure. Lots of concerts and plays at the State University, I know. Museums. The art galleries. Yeah, I've been meaning to take a day off and take in some of that culture oozing out of Fargo myself," he said with his good-natured laugh.

It was impossible to stay upset. "Careful what you say about the state now that you live here," she teased, trying to sound stern, her hands on her hips. "The natives are very sensitive."

"Okay. Okay. Then I'll drop in on you there some day. You can show me around all the cultural hot spots."

She was very glad he was only teasing. She smiled and let the idea of his visit drop without saying more than "Oh, sure." She couldn't imagine him ever driving all the way to Fargo just to see her.

Besides, if he asked, she would have to mention that she used to see more of the cultural attractions in Fargo on family trips from Sunville than she had since living there. She found it easier to rent video tapes and have a pizza delivered when she wanted to do something special. She hadn't dated anyone to speak of since Ralph died, and she hated going out alone at night during the long winters. Besides, when the temperature went for weeks without rising above zero degrees Fahrenheit and sometimes fell more than 35 degrees below zero, it was downright dangerous.

Peter grabbed his trench coat and tossed it over his arm as he crossed to the door. "Thanks, Carolyn, for going along with Maddie's invitation for dinner. I know you didn't want to."

Carrie gasped. She felt mortified. Her cheeks heated. She tried to cover them with her cool fingers. "No, I..."

Peter laughed. "Wait. I didn't mean that the way it sounded," he said quickly. He lifted her hands from her cheeks and held them. "I meant you hadn't planned on having me over. But thank you. If this is the kind of meal you come up with on forty-five minutes notice, I'd love to partake of what you spend hours preparing." He released her hands with a squeeze as he had at the table after the prayer and stepped back.

"Thank you," she managed. She felt the heat on her cheeks receding. She wished she didn't blush so easily.

"Anyway, now that I've got my big foot out of my mouth, thanks again for inviting me. Dinner was delicious." He stepped out the screen door and turned back to her as he closed it quietly. "See you soon."

She watched as he jogged across the wet gra.s.s through the hedgerow and around the church.

His promise that had sounded so much like a threat to her, echoed in her head as she returned to the living room. "See you soon. See you soon."

"I'll be going home, too," Bette announced after Carrie refused her offer of help with the dishes. "I want to get there before it starts to rain again. I don't want to get my new walking shoes muddy."

"Soon as Maddie's asleep, I'll be happy to drive you home, if you'd like."

"No, thanks, I'll be fine. I have only a short walk. It only feels long when I'm tired. Thanks for the lovely dinner, Carrie. And please remember, if there's anything you need, I want you to feel free to call me any time."

"Thanks, Bette. It's a comfort to have you here to keep an eye on Grandma for me. In fact, there is something you can do for me. I have to leave as soon as I find someone capable to stay with Grandma. You can write me about how things are going after I've gone back to Fargo."

"I understand," Bette a.s.sured her. "I'd be happy to."

"I wish I could stay longer, but my job may not wait. It's a small company, and I won't bore you with the details of the government policy, but they don't have to hold the position for me if I take a longer leave of absence."

"In this day and age, no one can afford to walk away from a good job. And don't you worry. I'll be happy to tell you all about how Maddie is doing. I wish there was more that I could do for her, but we each do what we can in this life," she added philosophically as she left.

Instead of making Carrie feel good with her parting statement, Bette added to the heavy guilt that Carrie already felt. She was doing all she could by finding someone qualified to care for Maddie.

"And I'll do my best to find a care-giver who will be just right for the job," Carrie vowed as she turned away from the screen door to go check on Maddie.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Whitmore, but we have only one person who would be available right now to live with your grandmother and there's a good likelihood that she won't want to live in the country."

Carrie sighed. "Another problem with living in a small town."