Nothing Sacred

And especially not to a man.

Martha could face a future of pain. Of loneliness. She couldn’t face a future in which she depended on a man or put her happiness in his hands. Not again.

Men weren’t trustworthy.

They let you down every time.

Eventually.

The touch of his lips, when they met hers, was so welcome, so right, so long-awaited, she accepted it without hesitation. Answered his tentative communication. He teased her with little caresses, his lips nibbling her bottom lip, letting her do whatever she wanted. Or nothing at all.

Filled with something she didn’t recognize, Martha just sat there, experiencing every aspect of the moment. She was in control. She knew that. The minute she pulled back, he’d stop.

And maybe that was why she didn’t. She didn’t want the feeling to end.

Until he deepened the kiss and groaned—and she remembered all the reasons she couldn’t do this. Still, in spite of the panic seeping through her, she couldn’t just sever the connection. She opened her mouth, her tongue darting out to briefly meet with his, and then, slowly, she pulled her head back.

“Our shift is up. We should go.” She had no idea where the words came from. Or the calm in her voice.

Inside she was a quaking mass of uncertainty. And, more than that, she was afraid she’d never be the same again.

Why did this man have the power to unsettle her in ways nothing else could?

David nodded. Started the car, drove her home and watched her to the door with nothing more than a softly uttered “Good night.”

Two little words. But they were enough for her to hear the regret in his voice.

CHAPTER TWELVE

AT SIX-THIRTY IN THE morning on the last Saturday in March, almost two weeks after his impromptu meeting with Ellen, David skipped a breakfast of toaster pastries and milk to get over to the church. At his instigation, to save money for humanitarian projects, a group of young men in the church were taking turns doing the heavy cleaning each week. This morning was Aaron Hammond’s turn.

The young man was already there, in the hall by the supply closet, when David arrived. Wearing a pair of black sweats and an old green T-shirt with an insignia that had long since faded, Aaron still looked like he was going places. There was always such an air of purpose about him.

“Good morning, Pastor. I didn’t expect to see you over here this early.”

David held out his arms, indicated the old jeans and T-shirt he was wearing. “Hey, this was my idea,” he said. “You didn’t think I’d skip out on the work!”

Pulling the mop bucket and other supplies out the closet, Aaron ran a hand through his curly, sandy-colored hair. “You do this every week?”

“Gives me a chance to plan my sermon.”

“Oh.” The young man grinned, but seemed surprised as well. “Whatever, man. You do enough around here as it is. We can handle the cleaning.”

“Of course you can.” David grabbed the window cleaner and a roll of paper towels. “But cleaning’s good for the soul. You wouldn’t want to deny me that opportunity, now would you?”

Aaron laughed. “Clean away,” he said. “But I gotta tell ya, you’re one weird preacher.”

“Thank you.”

He did think over the various points in his sermon as he made his way around the building, cleaning all the glass doors, vestibule windows and bathroom mirrors. He wanted to be certain he wasn’t missing any key elements.

And when his mind wandered right back to where it had been since Tuesday night—that kiss with Martha Moore—he went in search of the young man he’d been feeling more and more compelled to approach. He’d seen Aaron looking at Ellen last week in church. Had noticed the young man’s interest several times in the past couple of months.

Not that young men looking at young women was anything remarkable. Or even a man who’d been scorned looking at the woman who’d left him. It was the look itself that spoke to David. The feelings he read in those glances weren’t of betrayal or anger or despair, but of love. David was certain about that.

Finding Aaron in a front pew in the sanctuary, polishing cloth in hand, David grabbed another cloth out of the supply container by the door and joined him. “I’ll do one side while you do the other,” he offered, indicating the middle aisle dividing the sanctuary.

Aaron nodded. “Great.” Then he added, “Man, do you have any idea what people leave in these things?”