Thrill Of The Hunt, page 1
Copyright
ISBN 1-58660-615-8
© 2002 by Tamela Hancock Murray. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.
All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
Scripture quotations marked niv are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. niv®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.
All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.
One
Enid Garson was about to do something wrong. Terribly wrong. When Reece Parker walked through the door of her office at Prince of Peace Church, she planned to give him his aunt Agnes’s key.
She had read and reread Agnes’s note. She didn’t need to retrieve the lavender-scented paper from the side drawer of the substantial computer desk that dominated her cramped office. The message was branded into her memory.
Dear Enid,
The key in this envelope is critical to my nephew’s inheritance. However, you are not to relinquish it to Reece until he proves to your satisfaction that he has read the Bible. I trust you will respect my wishes.
Lovingly,
Agnes
Why did Agnes have to drag me into the middle of all this? Enid sighed as she placed her elbow near the mouse pad that pictured a dove flying through a blue sky. She stared at the computer screen, which displayed page two of The Prince’s Epistle, but her mind didn’t absorb the meaning of the words. She twisted a short blond curl around her forefinger, praying silently that the Lord would forgive her for violating the trust of her dear friend.
“I wish I could talk to her now.” Enid looked up at the blue ceiling, as if Agnes could hear from heaven. “If only I could explain.”
“Explain what?”
Enid recognized the voice as the same baritone that had read a poignant poem at Agnes’s funeral. Her heart pounded when she turned and saw the tall blond whom she had met before only briefly. He was leaning in the doorway, arms folded across his casual blue shirt.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, Enid.”
“That’s what I get for daydreaming instead of doing my work.” She tilted her head toward the newsletter waiting to be edited.
His chuckle made her want to amuse him again so she could hear his pleasure. “It’s not my habit to interrupt people in the middle of their workday, but my aunt’s lawyer told me I could find you here.”
She arched an eyebrow but made sure to keep her expression friendly. “Every Monday through Friday, from nine to four.”
“I won’t keep you long.” He shot her a winning smile.
“The work can wait.” Swiveling in her chair, she waved an inviting hand toward an empty bench near her desk. “Won’t you have a seat?”
“I really can’t stay.” Despite his protest, he positioned his lanky frame in the chair. “I’m on my lunch hour, and I’ve got to be back at the pharmacy by one.” Regret was evident in his tone.
Enid glanced at the electric wall clock. “It’s only a few minutes past noon. Don’t you have time for a cup of coffee?”
“Sure. Why not? Sugar and cream, please.”
“So you’re a pharmacist?” she asked as she poured the hot brew into a clean Styrofoam cup.
“Nope. Just a clerk. Hope you’re not too disappointed.”
Enid poured herself a cup of coffee. “How can I be disappointed when you obviously appreciate the medicinal benefits of coffee?”
“An energy booster, sure enough.” He accepted the coffee, then lifted the cup in a toast. “To cure what ails you.”
Chuckling, she touched her maroon ceramic cup to his Styrofoam rim. The abrasive scraping sound was hardly as rewarding as the tinkle of fine crystal.
After taking a sip, Reece became pensive. “If only some miracle medicine could have helped Aunt Agnes.”
“I know,” she agreed, her mood matching his. “But she had lived a full life, and it was her time to go home to the Lord.”
“I suppose you could look at it that way.” He took another sip of coffee. “She thought highly of you, you know. She always had something good to say about you.”
Unable to return the compliment, Enid could only nod. Agnes had worried about Reece and how his haphazard upbringing hadn’t left him grounded enough to find spiritual direction in his life.
“I suppose you’ve figured out I’m here for my inheritance. Although I don’t know why she left the check with you instead of her lawyer.”
“The check?”
“My inheritance is in the form of a check, isn’t it?” His shoulders slumped and he began to stare at the ceiling. “Unless she left me some odds and ends I’ll just have to sell.”
“I doubt she’d bother to bequeath worthless bric-a-brac to anyone in her will—”
“Sorry, I didn’t really mean that. It’s just that I don’t have room for a lot of knickknacks. Nor the patience to dust them.” He scrunched his nose in displeasure.
She chuckled. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to dust a key.”
“A key?” Reece tapped his fingertips on her desk. His brown eyes took on a light that told Enid he was contemplating the possibilities.
“Yes. She left me an envelope with a key in it.”
“The key to her ’57 Chevy?” Hope colored his voice. “That car’s a classic.”
She clenched her teeth. “No doubt. As much as I hate to disappoint you, this envelope doesn’t seem to contain a car key.”
“So you held the envelope up to the light, huh?” A frolicsome twinkle in his eyes told her he was jesting.
Enid lifted both hands in surrender. “Okay, I’m busted.”
“That’s all right,” he laughed. “I would have done the same thing. You know, isn’t it just like Aunt Agnes to send me out here on a wild goose chase? She couldn’t just leave a will like a normal person.”
“She definitely had a sense of humor.” Enid swallowed, unhappy with the prospect of having to break the cheerful mood. “You do realize I’m not supposed to give you the key yet.”
Reece placed his empty cup on her desk. His eyes widened and he clutched the arms of his chair as if he were steeling himself for battle. “Why not?”
“Reece, you’ve read the Bible, right?”
A blond eyebrow arched. “Some of it, I guess.”
Enid pursed her lips. She was hoping Agnes had been wrong about Reece—that he had already read the Bible from cover to cover. Then her job would be easy. However, it wasn’t turning out that way.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because she wants you to read it before I give you the key.”
“What? You’ve got to be kidding.” His lips narrowed. “You mean she expects me to trudge through the whole thing?”
“I’ll answer both questions. No, I’m not kidding. And, yes, she expects you to read it all.”
Reece drew his eyebrows close together, causing the space in between to scrunch. “This is going too far. Who does she think she is?”
Enid coaxed her voice into a gentle tone. “A person who cared about you a lot. A whole lot. That’s who your Aunt Agnes was.”
Her ploy must have worked, because Reece’s brows returned to their original position and his mood softened. “I know she did. But why does she have to put a condition on my inheritance? It just isn’t fair.”
Seeing his point, Enid sought to console him. “But you know something about the Bible, don’t you? I mean, did you go to Sunday school while you were growing up?”
“Look, just because I didn’t grow up in the church like you did—”
“What makes you think I grew up in the church?”
“Well, I, uh—” he faltered, then swept his gaze around her office. “You work here and everything. I just assumed the church would want someone who’s been a Christian from day one.”
“Unfortunately, you assumed wrong. I didn’t have a strong Christian upbringing. My parents divorced when I was still a baby. I was with Dad, and he was too involved with making a living to worry about church.”
“So we have something in common.” Reece’s voice filled with sadness as his gaze fell to the gray carpet. “I was raised by my dad too. Only, my mom died.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” Reece’s face took on a faraway look. Then, as though he remembered he should be back in the present, he sent Enid a half smile. He appraised her from head to toe and nodded approvingly. “Things were tough for you as a child, but just look at you now.” He waved a hand as if presenting Enid to a jury. “First of all, you’re well dressed.”
Enid looked down at her olive green and black tweed suit. The thick, nubby material offered warm comfort against the chilly office, inadequately heated against a brisk Virginia spring. The stylish outfit was a castoff from a successful friend, but Enid wasn’t about to share that fact with Reece.
“And you’re obviously a model citizen,” he continued. “A church secretary. Somebody must have seen to it that you got religion.”
She tried not to cringe at the negative expression.
“Did some tragedy bring you to church?”
“Fortunately, no. One of my friends from high school invited me to the youth group here.” She shrugged. “I guess you can say I never left.”
“So good old Aunt Agnes took you under her wing.”
“Precisely. She even recommended me for this job.”
The sound of his endearing chuckle caused Enid to forget why she was miffed with him. “She always did want to save the world.”
“Only Christ could do that.”
The way Reece folded his arms made Enid wonder if he considered her words bullets to dodge.
“I don’t mean to preach, but it’s the truth.”
Reece looked heavenward. “What should I expect? After all, this is a church.”
“A place you suddenly seem eager to leave,” she noted.
“Ouch! That hurt!”
Culpability tugged at Enid. Who was she to make someone else feel wretched? “Look,” she said, “I’ve got an idea that will help you get your inheritance today so you won’t have to wait. Why don’t I ask you a few questions about the Bible? If you know them, I’ll give you the key. How does that sound?”
“Sounds like the best offer I’ve had all day.” Relaxing in his chair, Reece placed an elbow on each knee and clasped his hands as he leaned toward Enid.
The motion caused a trace of musk cologne to waft her way. Before she could stop herself, she tilted the upper portion of her body toward him, in part to breathe more of his masculine scent. At that moment, his eyes met hers, flaring with such intensity that her concentration tottered.
“What is the first question?” His voice wavered ever so slightly. Enid couldn’t be sure the hesitation didn’t result from his study of her rather than nervousness at the pop quiz.
She set the small of her back against her chair in a deliberate attempt to regain her focus. “I’ll start out with something easy. What was the name of the giant David killed?”
“Um, Goliath?”
“Right. See? Now that wasn’t so hard.” Enid smiled at her student.
“Maybe I do know more than I thought.” He leaned away from her, resting the back of his head in the palms of his hands.
“We’ll see. Now, how many books are there in the Bible?”
“That’s easy. Eighty-eight.”
Enid shook her head. “You must be thinking of the keys on a piano.”
“Right.” He gave his forehead a gentle slap and folded his arms.
“Can you try again?”
After he thought for a moment, he shrugged. “Not sure.”
“Sixty-six. But not everybody knows that off the top of their head.” Drumming her fingernails, coated with clear polish, on her desk, Enid tried to think of a no-brainer. “All right, here’s one. How about naming the four Gospels?”
Reece lifted his right forefinger. “John, Paul, Ringo, and George.” He grinned, obviously pleased by his thought to name the Beatles instead of the Gospel authors.
“Very funny.” Indulging him with a halfhearted smile, Enid hoped his attempt at humor was a retort to the ease of her question.
Instead, he squirmed. “Matthew, Luke, and, uh.” He paused. “James and Paul.”
Enid shook her head. How could she justify giving Reece the key when he didn’t possess even a passing knowledge of Bible basics?
“Wrong, huh?”
“I’m afraid so. The four Gospels are Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.”
“I knew it was something parochial like that.” Reece placed his palms together in a pleading motion and gazed at her with widened puppy-dog eyes. “Could we try one more question? Please?”
“How can I resist?” She took a moment to think. What question would be so easy he couldn’t miss? “All right. Who wrote the first five books of the Old Testament?”
“Paul.”
“Not the New Testament,” she responded, determined to give the benefit of the doubt even though the saint was not the author of the Gospels or The Acts of the Apostles. “The Old Testament.”
“Oh.” He let out a heavy breath and shook his head. “I give. I guess I should be ashamed of myself. You’d think somebody thirty years old would have had enough time to learn something.”
“I’m sure you know a lot.” She kept her voice bright.
“You’re too kind.” He sighed. “Now that I’ve proven myself a doofus, I guess you’ve been told to move on to Plan B. To let the church have my inheritance. That is Plan B, right? Since my father died, she has no other family to leave her money to.”
Enid let out an expression of surprise. “I had no idea your father had passed away too. I’m sorry.”
Reece’s blond eyebrows rose. “I can’t believe you didn’t know. Aunt Agnes never said anything, huh?”
“Agnes didn’t talk much about her family.”
“I’ll have to fill you in some time. My life story is a good substitute for a sleeping pill.” His grin was semisweet. “In the meantime, let the church enjoy her money. Hope they do lots and lots of good things.” With his shoulders slumping, Reece turned to exit.
“Wait a minute.”
Her voice stopped him cold, and he spun around to face her. The heartened look in his eyes told Enid she had made the right decision. “I never said I wouldn’t relinquish the key.”
“But I failed the test.”
“I know. But I’m going to give you the key anyway.”
His mouth dropped open, forming a large O. “You’d actually do that? But why?”
“Because Revelation 22:17 says, ‘And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely,’ ” she answered.
“Huh?”
Enid chuckled. “Agnes influenced me to love the King James version.”
“Oh. So what are you saying?”
“The stipulation of your aunt’s will coerces you to read the Bible. As much as I’d like to see that happen, I disagree with her idea of forcing the Word on you. So I’m going to let you have the key anyway.” Extending her hand, she gave him the envelope. “Don’t think this decision was made lightly. I didn’t want to betray your aunt. You have no idea how long it took me to pray my way to this point. But I’m convinced this is what the Lord wants me to do.”
Reece hesitated before taking it, as though he felt an attack of conscience. After a brief pause, he accepted the gift. His brown eyes met hers. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Watching Reece depart, Enid was almost sorry she relinquished the key so easily. Her sacrifice meant she would never see him again.
❧
Connie ran into Reece’s waiting arms and gave him a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Sending her a broad grin, Reece rose to his feet. Connie squeezed him tightly on his upper calves. Her head, covered with chestnut brown curls, rested on his knee. Reece patted the four year old’s back, tapping her thick red fleece shirt and the strap of her denim jumper. Then he crouched to the ground and returned the hug.
“Look what I did, Weece!” She handed him a drawing of a lamb. Taking the paper from Connie, Reece marveled at the cotton balls glued onto a sheep’s body, forming a facsimile of wool. “Very good, Sweetheart.”
“Don’t forget your book bag, Connie.” A stout woman handed Reece a blue parcel decorated with a picture of Cinderella.
“Thanks, Mrs. Jones.” Just then, he remembered an errand he had neglected in his rush to arrive on time for work that morning. “Oh, before I forget.” He reached into his black vinyl wallet for the check he had written that morning. The expense for Connie’s day care consumed a hefty chunk of his budget, but he wanted her to have the best of everything he could afford on his modest salary. The program at Jones Day Care, with emphasis on constructive play, was a start.
He lowered his voice so Connie couldn’t hear. “I’m sorry this is late. I appreciate your waiting for payday.”
Mrs. Jones gave him a sympathetic nod. “I know you’re good for the money, Reece.” She looked down at Connie, who was chattering with a playmate. “And Connie is such a sweet girl,” she cooed.
“She sure is.”
Moments later, Connie skipped out of the day care center, resisting Reece’s attempts to take her hand. “What’s for supper?”
