Searching for Anna by Jenifer Carll-Tong (motivational books for students TXT) 📖

clenched. I prefer your angry frown."

She felt her jaw tighten. "Why on earth would you prefer the angry one?"

"Because I can fix the angry one. I can't be sure that I can fix the troubled one."

"That's because you are usually the cause of the angry frown," she quipped.

"That's true enough," he chuckled.

They walked in silence for another minute until they arrived at the parsonage.

"Well, Pastor Albright, we have arrived at your humble abode and you have yet to tell me what is troubling you," he said as he tied his horse to the post.

Phoebe took a deep breath. She folded her hands in front of her and turned to face him. "I wanted to discuss you – and me."

Will's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Well, my dear, you have my full attention now."

"This needs to stop."

Will stared at her. When she did not continue, he lifted his eyebrows in question. "What needs to stop?"

"This," she said waving between her and Will. "People will begin to talk."

"What?" A look of shock slowly turned to anger. "What are people saying?"

"Nothing yet, I don't suppose."

"And what are you afraid they will say?"

"Well, after your display tonight at the boarding house, I'm sure they will say that you are courting me."

Will's face turned from anger to confusion to mirth. "I suppose I could have let the Bigley boy sit next to you, but I don't like the way he looks at you."

"It's none of your business how he looks at me."

"You like the way the Bigley boy looks at you?"

"No! Of course not, but I don't see how it is any of your concern! After tonight, I'm certain that every boy at Mrs. Smith's thinks you are my intended!"

"What's wrong with people thinking that?" he said, scowling.

"Because – well, because…." she stammered. She really wished she'd had more time to think about her choice of words. "I know God has called me into ministry, and I know that it's not an easy path to choose, especially as a single woman. It was my hope – is still my hope – that God will send me a partner, a man with the same calling. But just because he hasn't chosen that for me yet doesn't mean that I am not called."

"I agree."

His statement startled her, but she continued. "You have been very kind to me, and I would be lying if I said that I wasn't flattered, but you must understand that my calling comes first."

"As it should. I understand that."

"You do?" She hadn't expected this to go so well. "Good. Well, then, you must understand why I must ask you to stop pursuing me."

"Now, that I don't understand."

"Surely you can see that if you continue to – to, well pursue me, others will notice and will begin to think of me as, well, as your girl."

"Yes, I see how that will be perceived."

"And what if a proper preacher gets called to Iron Falls, and if he is single, then he would not consider me a proper candidate for wife, because he will think me taken by you."

Will removed his hat and raked his fingers through his hair. "So, let me get this straight… You don't want to be courted by me because you think that God might send you a preacher husband, here in Iron Falls?"

"Well, yes, I suppose that is what I believe."

"A man like Gregory Parker?"

The angry tone of his voice only added to her indignation. "Not that it is any of your business who I choose! If God has called me to ministry, then I believe he will send me a helpmate to fulfill that calling."

"That's the only thing you've said that makes any sense!" Will said, his voice beginning to rise and the muscles in his jaw flexing angrily.

He sighed and again ran his fingers through his hair. "Seriously, Phoebe, I swear I will never understand you."

Phoebe crossed her arms. "I don't know what you are getting upset about, and I don't see what there is to understand. I am dedicated to God and His calling on my life. Why can't you see that?"

"Oh, I see it. I see it very clearly. It's you who are blind!" He placed his hat on his head. "Why do you keep looking for something that isn't coming?" He stepped off the porch and untied his horse. "It isn't that God hasn't answered your prayers. It's that he has answered in a way you never expected. Look around this town. According to the locals, there's never been more people in attendance in that little church, and more keep coming. The people trust you and rely on your spiritual guidance. You're meeting their needs, inside and out of that little church building. This town doesn't need a new preacher," he said, mounting his horse. "It already has one." And with that, he'd ridden away.

"I nearly forgot!" Wendell said, interrupting her replay of the other evening's events. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Wendell left the parsonage and returned in minutes lugging a heavy wooden piece of furniture. "Will asked me to bring this to ya. Where would you like it?"

It wasn't until he had set it in the middle of her room that Phoebe recognized it.

She stared in wonder at the beautiful, dark mahogany bookshelf - a far cry from the broken down, moldy piece it had been when her father had thrown it into the brush pile. How many hours must Will have spent working on the piece – sanding and repairing, oiling and finishing?

She wanted it placed under the window, so Wendell moved the empty trunk out of the way and positioned the shelf in its place. Phoebe stood there, running her hand over the carvings along the face of the bookshelf. This was different than buying a mirror. This was a sacrifice of time and labor. And something else – something she didn't deserve.

After Wendell left, she couldn't keep her thoughts from trailing to Will. In the days since their argument, she hadn't seen him at all. She thought he'd just needed a few days to cool off, but a few days had melted into over a week, which had left her feeling an entirely different emotion. Now, with the delivery of this gift, she had the perfect opportunity to make things right.

She donned her coat and hat, for the early November days had grown quite cold. It was nearing nightfall, but not so close that she worried about another run-in with the local wildlife. What she was hoping for, however, was a run-in with a certain Michigan State Trooper.

She glanced up toward the constabulary but knew she couldn't go there. She could weather his anger alone, but she wasn't sure she could do so with an audience. She needed to thank him in private, not in front of a group of fellow officers.

The wind picked up, slicing through her wool overcoat, proving how foolhardy her plan had been. She turned to retrace her steps back down Commonwealth when her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car speeding down the road. It came to a halt next to where she stood.

"I didn't dare to hope that I would actually run into you on my way through town," Gregory Parker shouted out the passenger window. "But it seems that fate is on my side this evening."

"Mr. Parker!" Phoebe exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Just passing through on my way to Marquette."

"This late? Surely you won't make it there this evening?"

"I'll do my best. C'mon," he said, leaning over and opening the passenger door. "Hop in. I'll drive you home."

Phoebe hesitated. "That's alright. It's not a long walk."

"Nonsense. It's freezing out there."

She wanted to decline but could see no plausible excuse. She slid into the seat next to the handsome evangelist.

"What church are you holding meetings at this week?" she asked politely.

"Oh, a little town along Lake Superior," he said with a wave of his hand. "Nothing to concern your pretty little head with."

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. "This 'pretty little head' has more than enough capacity to understand geography, Mr. Parker. I can assure you I am anything but dull. What town?" she asked him crossly.

"Phoebe, by now I would think you would know that I find you anything but dull." His features softened as he gazed at her. "I just meant you would find my work boring."

He leaned closer and the comfort he had in being so familiar with her was a bit unsettling.

"I — I never find God's work boring," she said, shakily.

The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were enjoying her discomfort. He straightened again and put the car into drive.

Once at the parsonage, he made no move to step out and around the automobile to open her door. She opened it herself, at least grateful that the ride was at an end.

"Thank you, Mr. Parker. I hope you have a successful evangelism meeting."

"Oh, I intend to. If my meetings wrap up early enough this week, maybe I'll swing by for dinner," he said with a wink and sped off.

Phoebe never understood men like Gregory Parker. He was handsome, to be sure, but his manners and ego were enough to send a woman off a cliff.