The Pastor's Wife (2 page)

Wendell's eyebrows rose in surprise. “Naturally, you have the right to refuse to let Mrs. Shepherd—”

“Ms. Sullivan,” she corrected him.

He nodded. “You can refuse to let her move into the parsonage. But if you do, it will nullify the will.”

“Then what happens to the theatre?” Maura asked.

Wendell flipped over a few pages. “It would be sold, but I’m not at liberty to say what would be done with the proceeds.” He turned to Nick. “By the way, did I mention that if the conditions are met, after six months the church will receive a sizable donation?”

Ah, here was the other shoe. Nick ground his teeth. “No, you did not mention that. Just how sizable?”

“Ten thousand dollars.”

Nick crossed his arms and sat back hard against the seat. Ten thousand dollars might not seem like a lot to some folks, but to him, it was an answer to prayer—an answer Miss Hattie decided to help along. She knew all about the programs he wanted to implement, the staff he wanted to bring on, if only the money were there. She knew exactly how to get to him. He could endure six months of almost anything if it meant bringing much-needed funds into the church. Still, he didn’t want to rush the decision.

“I need some time to think this over.” Nick rose, ending the meeting.

Wendell stood with him. “I understand. In fact, I’d advise the two of you to go some place private so you can discuss the matter.” The lawyer reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a key ring, which he handed to Maura.

She took the keys as she stood up. “Are these for the theatre?”

“Yes. I think you should take a look at the place before you make your final decision.” Wendell smiled as he walked them out of the office. “I know you have a lot to talk about. Please call me as soon as you come to an agreement.”

Following behind Maura, Nick mulled over what had just happened. He had a feeling the meeting had gone exactly as the lawyer and Miss Hattie planned. Not only were Nick and Maura considering this weird arrangement, but they were leaving together to the theatre. After six years of living alone, it seemed his destiny was once again entangled with that of his wayward wife. And there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop it.

J
ust look at this place. It's incredible!”

Maura stood in the middle of the old Music Box Theatre, with her arms flung wide, eyes sparkling. Nick watched as she walked farther down the aisle, reverently touching the backs of the old, dusty seats as though they were made of pure gold.

This was the first time Nick had been inside the old theatre. When he came to Granger as an idealistic twenty-four year old, excited about his new life as a pastor with his wife by his side, the Music Box was one of many boarded-up buildings on Main Street. Now at a mature thirty, here he stood, watching his estranged wife lust after the last property in town that still needed renovation.

Maura didn’t seem the least bit daunted by the idea of inheriting a fixer-upper. “From the outside, you can’t tell how large this space is. Look at the stage. It's big enough for full-blown productions.”

Nick listened as she exclaimed over the orchestra pit, the ornate carvings that framed the stage, the murals on the walls and ceiling. Her hands flew as she gestured and raced from one part of the theatre to the next.

The guarded, defensive woman who walked back into his life a few hours before had vanished. Now she was animated, full of enthusiasm, and excited about the possibilities that stood in front of her.

Nick's gut twisted at her transformation into the woman he had married. Living in the same house with her would be hard enough if she continued playing the role of ice princess. But if she warmed up and started acting like the woman he fell in love with, the next six months would be sheer torture. He had to find a way to talk her out of this.

“You know,” he called, walking up the aisle to meet her, “it's going to take a lot of work to get this place back into shape. Not to mention it might not be up to code. You could be looking at some serious structural issues.”

Maura shook her head, still taking in her surroundings. “No, it's fine.”

“How can you be so sure?”

She squatted down in the middle of a row, disappearing from view. Nick wondered how she managed the move in that suit she wore.

“Weren’t you paying attention at Wendell's office?” Her disembodied voice traveled to him through the musty air. “Miss Hattie had it checked out before she completed her will. The place is structurally sound. The major issues are cosmetic.” She popped up into view, swiping the back of her hand across her forehead. “It’ll just take a little work to make the place shine again.”

“A little work? Did you notice the paint peeling off the walls? And there's at least an inch of dust on these seats.” He hit one hard with his palm, just to prove his point. Although the small puff of dust that rose into the air was not what he had hoped for, he was strangely pleased when the entire back of the seat
fell off with a clatter, hitting the armrest of the seat behind it and knocking it off as well.

“You just broke two of my seats!” Maura jammed her fists onto her hips and scowled at him.

Nick took a step back. “Actually, I may have just saved a life. What if someone sat there and the seat fell apart? You should be thanking me. You could have gotten sued on opening night.”

She shook her head and groaned. “Nobody would have sat in that seat, Nick, because I intend to have them all checked out and repaired well before opening night. Do you really think I’m that irresponsible?”

“No, of course not.” This wasn’t turning out the way he’d hoped. He didn’t want to insult her, only discourage her a bit and convince her to give up this insane plan. “My point is there's more than a little work to be done before the place will be fit to open to the public. I just want to make sure you’re looking at the big picture.”

Maura laughed. “Well, this is different. Since when do you look at the bleak side of life? What happened to mister the-sun-is-always-shining-somewhere-in-the-world?”

“Having my wife walk out on me must have dampened my optimism.”

That sobered her. She hugged her arms around her chest and looked him in the eye. “You left me long before I left you.”

Her accusation pierced his heart like a poison-tipped dart. All he’d ever done was his job, a job she knew he loved when she married him. And she’d left him for doing his job well. It would be so much easier to move on and ignore their past— pretend none of it had happened. But he couldn’t let it go. “Don’t you think it's time we talked about it?”

“No.” The word shot out of her like a bullet, and her gaze dropped to the floor. When she looked back at him, determination blazed in her eyes.

“You and I have gone through a lot in the last few years,” she said quietly. “I know it might be impossible for you to believe, but I never wanted to hurt you and I still don’t. I have no idea why Miss Hattie thought she could manipulate us back together, but she did, and we’re stuck with it. The plain truth is that I want to make this theatre work. I
need
to make it work.”

He should leave it at that. She’d made it clear she didn’t want to talk about their past. To get further involved in her current life, the life she chose to live alone, would only lead to trouble. But Nick had never been a passive bystander.

“Why would you care about running some little theatre in a hick town? I thought you liked living in California. If you want to run a business so badly, why don’t you wait until your father hands over the coffee shop?”

She blanched, and he wished he could recall his words. He had no idea what she’d been doing over the last six years, but he knew before she spoke that it hadn’t been easy.

“My father died two months ago.” Her words were flat, as though she’d already expended so much energy on the subject she refused to use any more. “He did leave me the coffee shop, and a mountain of debt along with it.”

“Maura, I’m sorry, I—”

She held up her hand. “It's okay. I won’t bore you with the details. Let's just say the one bright spot it the situation was that Da bought a prime piece of land well before it was prime, and it's completely paid for. In fact, I’ve had several generous offers on it already.”

“So you’re planning to sell?”

“I thought about it, but I wasn’t sure. Not until today. See, while I can make a profit on the land, after I pay all the bills, there won’t be enough to start another business, or even buy another house in California.” He must have looked confused because she continued. “Da and I lived in the apartment over the shop, remember?”

“Sure, of course, I do.” From the first day Nick had walked into Sullivan's Coffee Shop and watched Maura take care of a rude customer, he’d known she was the one. He’d eaten countless bowls of their signature chowder as an excuse to come by and get to know her.

When Nick picked her up for their first date, Joe Sullivan grilled him as though they’d never met, despite their many casual conversations over a cup of coffee or a bowl of chowder. The genial coffee shop proprietor became a bit more imposing when Nick changed from a customer into the man who was dating Joe's only daughter.

Thinking back on that time, something clicked in Nick's head. Something he hadn’t thought about in years. “This was your dream.”

Maura's eyes narrowed. “What?”

“To own a theatre. Remember our first date?”

Her face softened, and she nodded. “I remember.”

“We talked about our goals, and one of yours was to own a theatre someday.” Other memories from that day came back in a rush: licking ice-cream cones as they walked on the beach, the warmth of her hand in his, how beautiful she looked with her thick black hair whipping in the wind. Nick pushed the images aside, refusing to let nostalgia carry him away. “Is that why you’re so gung ho to do this?”

“Hardly. I gave up silly dreams like that a long time ago.” She rubbed the back of her neck, grimacing. “The truth is Sullivan's hasn’t been a profitable business for a long time. A
family-owned shop can’t compete with the national chains. For the past few months, I’ve been debating what to do, trying to figure out how to pay all the bills and still keep Sullivan's open. Then Wendell called and told me about the will. Of course, he wouldn’t tell me what I would inherit—only that it was significant. I hoped whatever Miss Hattie left me would help me start over somewhere else.” Maura laughed, but there was no joy in the sound. “I had no idea I’d be starting over
here
. Guess the joke's on me.”

Despite their history, despite the hurt he still felt, Nick's heart went out to her. He wanted to encourage her, to tell her that everything would be all right. But that was a promise he couldn’t make.

“So you’re sure about this?” he asked. “You’re absolutely certain you want to take over this theatre?”

“You bet I am. Once I sell the coffee shop and pay the bills, I should have enough money left over to get this place back in shape. I’m not sure what I’ll do after that, but at least now I have some hope for the future.”

Hope for the future. Boy, God sure did work in some wild, ironic ways. “I guess this is an answer to prayer for you.”

“
You
would probably call it that.”

Nick trod lightly. “What would you call it?”

“Luck. Coincidence. I have no idea. What I do know is that if I want to get anywhere in this life, I’ve got to take care of myself.” She let her arms fall to her side and walked back up the aisle toward the door. “I’ve seen enough,” she said without looking back. “Let's go to Wendell's and finalize this.”

So that was it. She’d made up her mind. Nick knew her well enough to realize that no amount of discussion would sway her. He should be furious at her for making a decision that would affect them both without asking what he thought. He should be concerned about how his life would change now that
they’d be sharing a house. He should refuse to make his heart available for more pain and rejection. But none of that seemed as important as the bigger issue at hand. For a moment, he’d caught a glimpse of the hurt that went straight to her core and wounded her soul. Maura was in the midst of a crisis of faith, and right now, all Nick could focus on was helping her patch things up with God.

Maura took a deep breath. Slowly and carefully, she signed her name on the bold line at the bottom of the contract. With that simple act, she took temporary control of the Music Box Theatre until such time, after all stipulations were met, that ownership would be permanently transferred to her. Just some ink on a page, and her life was now turned totally around.

“Fine. That's just fine.” Wendell smiled broadly. “I’ll check in on the two of you from time to time, just to see how you’re progressing, but I don’t foresee any problems.” He turned to Maura. “I expect you’ll need to put your affairs in order in California before you can get settled here. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Maura shook her head. “Nothing comes to mind. As I told Nick, I’m sure I can sell the shop quickly, and there's no need for me to be there while escrow closes. I should be back in Granger in a few weeks.”