Nothing Sacred

“Then I guess you should’ve chosen a different profession,” Martha replied. “You can’t set yourself up as the authority on morality and moral decisions and just expect the people around you to accept the validity of your pronouncements. Especially not here.”

Not anymore. There’d been a day when the members of Shelter Valley Community Church had been filled with trust. But no more.

“In the first place, I’ve never set myself up as an authority on anything,” David said, sitting up to face her. “However, I do realize that I’m in a position to be an example to those around me, and I will not do anything to jeopardize that. Period. You have my word on it.”

He wasn’t talking about his parishioners anymore. He was talking straight to her.

Unfortunately, his message was one she simply couldn’t believe.

CHAPTER THREE

THE PRODUCTION of Pastor David Marks’s portion of the MUTV Sunday morning spiritual hour took only three meetings—the initial consultation and then two other sessions over the next couple of weeks. One to film, and one to preview and approve the edited version. Disappointed when taping was wrapped up so proficiently, David waited around MUTV the second Monday in February, after the final viewing while Martha gave wrap-up instructions to her predominantly student crew.

He’d really been hoping for an excuse to spend a little more time with her. With luck, they might’ve been able to become friends. He might even have been able to offer her some guidance, or at least reassurance. Whatever instincts prompted him in his work prompted him strongly where she was concerned. The woman was asking too much of herself. Expecting too much.

And helping people was how he filled his calendar.

“You’re very good at what you do,” he said as the last of the students left and she led him to her small office off to one side of the surprisingly modern studio.

She shrugged, her shoulders slim and feminine in the white oxford blouse she had tucked into a pair of black cotton slacks. “I’ve got great kids working for me,” she replied easily. “Enthusiastic, smart, eager to learn. They love what they do.”

“So do you.”

She turned, met his gaze for a brief second longer than the last time he’d been able to catch her attention. “Yeah, I do.” Then she added, “You do, too, don’t you?”

“More than I’d ever imagined.”

It was the truth. His job had given him a life. One that was solid and meaningful.

“Well…” she dropped a clipboard on the desk, then faced him, her arms crossed. “It’s been good working with you, Pastor.”

“David.”

She looked down, her short, flyaway hair tempting him to forget that the part of him that might think running his fingers through a woman’s hair was long since dead and buried.

“I prefer Pastor,” she finally said quietly.

“Ellen’s come to see me a couple of times.” He hadn’t been planning to tell her.

“She has?” He wasn’t sure which was more dominant in the expression she turned on him, her surprise or her concern.

He nodded. “She just needed someone to talk to.”

“She’s always talked to me!”

“She didn’t want to hurt you.”

The light of understanding entered her eyes at about the same moment her features settled into despondency. “She’s upset about Todd. The new baby.”

“And you. She doesn’t understand why a woman as loving and giving and wonderful as you should be hurt so much.”

“I got over Todd Moore years ago.” Her eyes might have moistened slightly, but it was the trembling of her chin that told David how much she was holding back.

“Did you?” He didn’t think so.

“Yes. Of course. Kind of hard for a woman to pine for a man who’d leave her with four children to raise while he ran off to be a kid himself.”

“So why are you squeezing the heck out of your arms? What emotion are you hiding?” he asked, glancing pointedly toward hands that had been lying slack only seconds before.