Page 17 of Evan

“Yes.” He had not meant to sound so abrupt, but her presence made him feel gauche and unsure of himself. “And even brought reporters with me.” He took a sip of the drink, his eyes widening as the sweet tangy taste tantalized his tastebud.

“Sister Shirley Blake is known for her remarkable talent in preparing a mixture of fruits and vegetables,” her smile widened as she nodded at the cup in his hand.

“What have you contributed to this spread?”

“The gelatin.” Walking over to another table, she scooped up some red and green Jello, with little starfruits in the middle. “Here.”

He found himself reaching for the small plate. “Your own invention?”

Her smile widened. “Oh, absolutely.”

It was a long time since anyone had spoken to him without artifice. He was accustomed to people wanting to get close to him because of his position in life.

But these people seem to have forgotten who he was and what he represented. Cassandra Daley was treating him like one of her students. He was about to say something to her, when a blonde woman with a curious look on her attractive face walked over to them.

“We haven’t been formally introduced. I am Marsha, Cassie’s best friend.”

“A pleasure.” He shook her hand briefly before letting go.

“I am happy you came. Did you enjoy the service?”

Evan had to tamp down the impatience and wished the woman would go away.

“Immensely, especially the singing.” His silver eyes went to the woman standing next to him. “Have you ever considered trying to get a contract?”

She laughed softly, her melodious laughter filling his heart with additional warmth. As if needed anything extra. Being near her was casting a glow over him that he could not understand. He looked up just in time to see her friend giving him a quizzical look and wondered if he had shown his hand. What was his hand anyway?

“The praise team has a You tube channel, and we are on Tik Tok. Our goal is to reach people, especially young people with our music.”

“My friend is being very modest.” Marsha interjected. “She was the one who came up with the idea and it has taken off more than we ever dreamed.”

“We give the glory to God.” Shaking her head, she exchanged a knowing look with her friend that neatly excluded him.

“Honey, you should show him your garden.”

Evan gave her a startled look and wondered if that sentence had a double meaning.

“Cassandra has the most beautiful gardens that she has cultivated at the cottage.”

“Cottage?” He carefully reined in his riotous thoughts.

“I live in the church compound. And I am sure Mr. Davenport has better things to do…”

“As a matter of fact, I would love to see the garden,” he heard himself saying. His initial plan to leave had slowly disappeared somewhere between the delicious punch and the conversation.

“Oh.”

He watched in amusement as she picked up her drink and took a sip, before putting it back down as if she had no idea what to do with hands. Good, he thought with satisfaction. I am not the only one flustered. “Whenever you are ready.”

*****

“I was expecting a sermon.”

His deep voice broke into her troubled thoughts and had her jerking her head up to look at him. By the time they left the chapel, the crowd had dispersed, or most of them had. She had told Pastor that she was showing Evan around and he had nodded, giving her a curious look. But to his credit, he kept his opinion to himself.

They had reached the area she considered her most accomplished endeavor. A clump of cabbage roses nestled beneath some vines.

She had created a sort of pavilion, mixing various plants, a rosemary bush here and there and some peonies and daffodils next to a bench she had constructed herself. She often sat out here, enjoying the solitude, the serenity of God’s creation and just painted to her heart’s content.

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