“Well,He-brewsis my favorite book in the Bible.” Pastor Dubois winked, and extended his hand to Noah. A smattering of gray sprinkled his otherwise dark goatee. He was fit, with close-cut salt and pepper hair, and laugh lines that hinted his age was a bit higher than he looked. “It’s good to see you. You’re friends with Owen, right?”
Noah nodded as he returned the firm shake. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll grab that to-go cup for you, Pastor.” Elisa darted off before Noah could figure out a facial expression that would ask her not to leave him alone.
Mr. Dubois rocked back on his heels, arms crossed over his dry-fit polo as he surveyed Noah. “I hear things aren’t going very well over at the Blue Pirogue.”
“That’s one way to put it.” Was that too negative? Noah was rusty. How was one supposed to talk to a pastor? He quickly added, “But I’m sure it’ll all work out. God’s plan and all.”
The pastor’s assessing gaze never left Noah’s face. “I’ve been praying for just that.”
“You have?” Noah stilled. He wasn’t sure why that surprised him, but it did. Had Owen asked his dad to pray when Noah requested the loan? “Thank you.”
“Of course. That’s what I’m here for—and to talk about anything bothering any of my parishioners.” He clapped one hand on Noah’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Anything at all.”
His eyes, wise and discerning, implied something specific, but what, Noah wasn’t sure. His rotten family tree? The recent rumors with Elisa? The inn’s financial woes?
Noah dipped his chin. “I appreciate that.” Not that he’d take him up on it. But the gesture was friendly—not at all judging.
It was a nice change.
Elisa returned, to-go cup in hand. “Here you go, Pastor.”
“Great, thanks.” The older man smiled as he took the coffee. “So, I’ll see you two in church tomorrow?”
Noah stiffened. The pastor hadn’t seemed like he was church-hunting during their conversation, though. He’d seemed authentic. Noah felt certain he could say no and the man wouldn’t think less of him.
Elisa’s gaze darted to Noah’s, as if seeking permission before answering. He appreciated that, too. But it also added to the pressure.
Then her words spoken from the library courtyard echoed in his head.Maybe you should try again…
He decided to listen to that voice and not to the one taunting him, reminding him that he would never be worthy of Elisa. She’d all but rejected him again in the kitchen. But this wasn’t about them.
This was about something bigger.
Something abouthim.
Noah swallowed. And to add to the growing list of shocking things happening that Saturday morning, he nodded slowly. “I’ll be there.”
Elisa and Mr. Dubois turned matching surprised expressions in his direction, ones that mirrored how Noah felt. He offered a little shrug.
“Glad to hear it!” The older man recovered quickly, saluting Noah with his coffee cup. “I think you’ll be glad you did.”
Noah averted his eyes from Elisa’s curious assessment as they told the reverend goodbye. They had to look for the next clue anyway, right? Maybe they’d find it at Pastor Dubois’s church.
And he had the sudden sense that maybe, just maybe, he’d find a little something else.
nineteen
Of course today the church was packed.
Elisa clutched her tumbler of coffee a little tighter as Noah leaned in close, ducking his head to whisper as they hesitated at the top of the center aisle of Magnolia Grace. His breath tickled her ear and sent a rush of shivers down her back. “I realize I haven’t been to church in a while, but I’m assuming we can’t crawl around under the pews to search for our next clue.”
She forced a smile at the rows of eyes peering at them from behind raised bulletins, trying not to get lost in the nostalgia of Noah’s cologne wafting over her. Bad enough he’d worn a light green collared shirt that did dangerous things to his eyes. “I think that would make everyone stare more than they already are.” She normally sat third pew from the front, but with Noah at her side, that suddenly felt like fixing a giant target to her back. She also typically sat with her father, and that, too, felt like a horrible idea.
For a moment, she recognized what Noah might be feeling—out of place.
The gray carpet stretching toward a stage containing a pulpit, acoustic guitar, and a few stools for the worship team offered zero leads on where they should start searching. She winced. “Then again, we might get desperate enough for a pew crawl before the day is over.”