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“I am, Reverend. Thanks for your concern, though.”
He nodded. The flicker in his blue-gray eyes made Liza wonder if he thought of her as some poor, lost soul he had the opportunity to save. Was she lost? Was that why she’d settled in a town she’d never even heard of without a second thought?
“I admire your independence, Liza, don’t get me wrong.” He was quick to say. “It’s just that young people can be misguided sometimes. Or easily influenced.”
Ignoring the obvious dig toward Jack, she smiled politely and said, “I’m twenty-eight, Reverend. Hardly ‘young people’.”
He surpris
ed her with a laugh. “I suppose I lump all single individuals into that category. Forgive me. Although,” he added, “Twenty-eight is still young.”
“Thank you for that.” It was a nice reminder that she still had a long life ahead of her. Her career was over, yes, but she was only twenty-eight. There was plenty of time for her to make something of herself, wasn’t there?
Giving a self-deprecating laugh, she said, “Really, Reverend. Thanks for the reminder.”
He grinned. “Glad to be of service.” He stepped past her, but paused and said over his shoulder, “And I do hope to see you tomorrow morning.”
Liza couldn’t lie to him. “I’m not really the worshipping type. But I won’t totally discount it.”
“Fair enough.” He nodded his head in acceptance and continued down the sidewalk toward Lydia’s shop.
Liza piled her purchases in the front seat of her Mercedes and headed back to the cottage. As she turned onto the winding drive, she thought about the last time she’d been there, following lunch with Jack and her first run-in with Lydia. The confusion she’d felt over the allegiance Jack had to one but not the other step-relative still bothered her. Especially since Liza preferred the reverend to his sanctimonious wife.
As she stepped from the car, she found the ambience soothing. The trees swayed in the light breeze. The sun had shifted to the west as it started its gradual descent into the horizon. Splashes of purple, pink and gold spilled across the lake like paint from toppled-over cans coloring a blue canvas.
She had to admit, things in Wilder piqued her interest. The politics. The people. Their little melodramas.
Jack Wade…
Deciding she liked playing with fire where he was concerned, she slid behind the wheel again. She turned the car around and headed to the saloon.
Chapter Ten
“What’re you reading there, George?” Jack asked as he stepped behind the bar, taking over while Josh completed the liquor inventory. “The Idiot’s Guide to Campaigning?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
Jack chuckled as he poured a Glenlivet for his friend. “Maybe you ought to let me read it when you’re done. I’m not entirely sure I know what I’m getting myself into.”
George set the book aside. He sipped his cocktail, then said, “Obviously, considering the way you’ve been stirring things up this weekend.”
“Me?” Jack’s brow jerked upward. “I’m not the one spreading the word about who’s running for City Council.”
“Oh that.” George had the good grace to look contrite.
“Yeah, that.”
“I got the book from the library,” George said as he patted the cover. “Of course, Mrs. Parsons was curious to know why I was checking it out. So I told her.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “She’s the town crier, George.”
“Consider it cheap and easy PR. I’m pretty sure there’s not a person in town who doesn’t know you’re running now.”
“Including the reverend.”
George whistled under his breath. “Would’ve loved to have been a fly on the wall during that conversation.”
“I didn’t have anything to say about it. He came out to the cottage to tell Liza about Sunday worship. Any excuse to stick his nose in my business.”
