But only a week.
Shelley’s news wasn’t really a shock. How could it be? Martha had only had a week to decide that this new man in her life wouldn’t betray her. A week to start believing his messages of trust and reassurance.
You couldn’t believe completely in only a week.
“What are you going to do?” Sitting on Martha’s bed behind her closed bedroom door, her sixteen-year-old looked a bit too much like the cat who got the cream.
Still, she’d deal with Shelley later. As soon as she figured out what to do.
“I don’t know…. I guess I have to tell everyone. They have a right to know.”
“Just like you did with Pastor Edwards.” Shelley nodded, her bright eyes contradicting the solemnity she was trying to project.
Right. In light of what she now knew, Martha was a little surprised that David hadn’t tried to follow in his predecessor’s footsteps. Edwards had been having an affair with a parishioner. Though it killed her to admit it, David probably could have been, too, if he’d tried a bit harder.
Of course, Martha was a far cry from the beautiful woman Edwards had tak
en up with. She’d exuded sex appeal without even trying.
When Martha had tried to be seductive, she’d still just been Martha.
In control. Capable. Determined.
Except for that time when David Marks had held her in his arms. Kissed her…
Well, she was in control now.
“I’m going to talk to him.” She announced the decision aloud as she made it.
“Now?” Shelley was scowling. “It’s time for dinner. Besides, your jeans are all dusty from the ball field and that T-shirt has a brown smudge on it.”
Wondering how Shelley had changed so much in such a short time, Martha promised herself once again that she’d help her second child find her way back to the person she’d been. Martha let go of the fact that Shelley was more concerned about dinner for herself—or for appearances’ sake—than for her mother’s hurt feelings. Shelley knew that David and Martha had become friends. The girl didn’t even seem to care that this was the second time in a year that the people of Shelter Valley had been betrayed by their religious leader.
There was no way Martha could cook dinner right now. The smell alone would nauseate her.
HE WAS AT HOME. His car was in the drive. But it took almost five minutes to answer his door. He welcomed her, but didn’t wait for her to enter. Leaving the door open, he headed into a room to the left of the foyer.
Closing the door behind her, Martha followed him.
Dressed in brown Dockers and a short-sleeved shirt, David was sitting quietly in an armchair in front of the large wooden desk in what was obviously his home office.
He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at his desk. Had someone already told him what she knew? Surely it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. He must have known it would all come out.
He must have known from the moment he made the decision to help Ellen.
And he’d helped her anyway.
Regardless, he was what he was. And he had to have known they’d find out.
When he finally did lift his gaze, there was a hint of tears there, clouding the clarity of those whiskey-colored eyes.
He was taking this hard. Harder than she’d expected, considering what she knew about him.
“I…”
If he was going to try to defend himself, somehow—to rationalize, explain, beg for forgiveness—he could save his breath. She’d traveled that road before.
And knew that the remorse was secondary. It might hit a man hard, but only after he’d been caught.