Meant-To-Be Marriage

Sydney had thought the same thing the first time she’d laid eyes on Jarod.

“Does that mean you almost croaked at the sight of him?” she teased to cover her chaotic emotions.

“Yes. He reminded me of some of those men with the black hair in The Godfather films. You know the kind I mean?”

Sydney knew exactly what she meant. He had the look of some Mediterranean types she’d met in her travels.

“Except that his eyes were green like my cat’s.”

For the second time in one evening Sydney felt light-headed.

When a priest went on vacation, could he remove his collar without it being a sin? Could they vacation alone? Didn’t they go to retreats that were off limits to the public? Sydney had no idea.

Beyond his work as a priest, and the fact that his first name was Jarod, she knew nothing personal about Father Kendall. She had no knowledge of his history, where he came from, or whether he had family still living.

“Did he specifically seek you out to ask about me?”

“I’m not sure. He saw my junior ranger name tag and said he once knew a woman from Cannon who’d become a park ranger.

“When I asked him what her name was, he said Sydney Taylor. I told him I’d been working with you this summer. He wondered if you were around. When I told him you were at a wedding in California, he asked where you lived so he could leave you a note.”

So that was how it had happened.

“Did you get it?”

Sydney’s hand tightened on the phone. “I’m afraid not.” In the next breath she told Cindy about her move to Gardiner and her new job.

The teen sounded terribly disappointed by the news, but Sydney promised to stay in close touch with her and the other kids throughout the year. Slightly mollified, Cindy said she was glad, then she brought their conversation back to Father Kendall.

“Could that man be one of your old boyfriends?”

“No—” Sydney cried before she realized how emotional that would have sounded to Cindy. “I’m thinking he was probably a parent of one of my students, but I just don’t remember. It doesn’t matter. I’ll talk to you again soon if that’s all right.”

“Oh sure. ’Bye for now.”

Sydney hung up, still trembling. Father Kendall had gone to a lot of trouble to come to the park to find her. For what reason?

Feeling trapped and desperate, Sydney got ready for bed, then collapsed on top of the mattress, sobbing.

The next time she had any awareness of her surroundings, she was shivering. At first she was so dazed by the haunting dream where she’d spent the night with Father Kendall at the rectory in Cannon, she assumed she was suffering overwhelming guilt for what she’d done in the dream.

Then to her chagrin she realized she’d slept all night on top of the covers. She couldn’t seem to throw off the effects of the dream which had been too real. No doubt her body was still reacting to the feel of him as he’d picked her up and carried her into the apartment last night.

The physical contact coming so unexpectedly in her weakened condition had set off shock waves. They were growing stronger in intensity because she knew Father Kendall was still somewhere around, waiting to take advantage of her vulnerability.

Jarred into action by the fear of seeing him again and being unable to resist him, she flew to the bathroom for a quick shower. After shampooing her hair, she toweled it dry and put on a clean pair of jeans and a knit blue top.

Once she’d applied lipstick and brushed her hair, she grabbed her purse and opened the apartment door to leave. In the next instant she almost collided with a solid male frame and felt strong hands grip her upper arms to steady her.

For the second time since last night, Sydney lifted her head and discovered Father Kendall, freshly shaved, staring down at her.

Breathless for several reasons, she eased out of his arms. This morning he was dressed in a burgundy-toned polo shirt and faded denims.

There wasn’t a man in existence to equal his striking dark looks and physique. In fact nothing compared to the sight of his vital, living presence in a spot where she couldn’t have imagined seeing him in a dozen lifetimes.

Her unrealistic hope that she’d be gone from the apartment before

he came to her door hadn’t materialized of course. Deep in her core she’d known this moment was inevitable. Until she agreed to talk to him, he wouldn’t give her any peace.