Hosea's Bride. Dorothy Clark
back to the business at hand and inched her way off base.
Hosea pitched another perfect strike.
Crack!
Debby popped it up, and Angela took off for second base.
Hosea faded back, leaped into the air, caught the ball for out number one, threw it to Lou Harris at third, who tagged a laughing, dodging Leigh for out number two, and threw it to Bart Williams at second.
Angela skidded to a halt, let out a squeal, and spun around to head back to first. She froze in place. Hosea Stevens was standing not ten feet away between her and first base. He caught the ball Bart lobbed to him, grinned, and started a slow advance toward her. She backed up. Hosea’s grin widened. He locked his gaze on hers and took another step toward her. Her stomach jittered.
Not him, Lord. Please, not him!
Angela shoved her hands out toward Hosea, palms foremost, took another step backward, then spun about and almost crashed into Bart who had sneaked up be hind her.
Bart laughed, caught the ball Hosea tossed him and tapped Angela lightly on her shoulder. “Whooeee…triple play! That’s the game, folks! Let’s go eat!”
“Great game, Slider.” Bart slapped Hosea on the shoulder and trotted off to join the rest of the players that were headed toward the shaded tables under the pavilions along the river.
“Slider?” Leigh stopped beside Angela and gaped at Hosea. “You’re Slider Stevens?”
“I used to be.”
“Well, no wonder we lost!”
Hosea laughed.
Phil draped his arm around Leigh’s shoulders and dropped a kiss on top of her head. “That’s my little competitor talking, Pastor.” He laughed down at Leigh. “He went easy on you, sweetheart. Do you think any of you would have gotten a hit if he hadn’t?”
“Judas! You should have told me.” Leigh aimed a playful punch at Phil’s stomach. He caught her hand and kissed it.
Angela smiled at their antics and glanced at Hosea. “I guess I missed something. I don’t understand the significance of Slider Stevens.”
His gaze met hers. “That’s because it has no significance, now. It’s just a name out of my past. I picked it up when I played college ball.”
“Oh.” Angela’s composure unraveled. Had he remembered her other name?
Leigh gave a disdainful snort and ducked out from under Phil’s arm. “‘Played college ball’—hah! That’s an understatement. He was the best, Angela. Don’t you remember all that publicity when he was being wooed by the major league teams?”
Angela shook her head and turned away, too distracted by her thoughts to take part in the conversation.
“Well, I sure do.” Phil looked at Hosea. “You were offered a huge contract, but you never signed. I always wondered why someone with your talent gave up such a fantastic chance.”
“Well, wonder no more. There’s a very simple answer.” Hosea scooped up a ball someone had dropped and stepped over to toss it into a basket full of equipment. “God had a different plan for my life—I went to Bible college.”
“And gave up all those millions? Not to mention the fame, and the adulation of baseball fans everywhere.”
Phil’s incredulous tone penetrated Angela’s preoccupation. She glanced over at Hosea Stevens. Had he done that?
Hosea pulled off his cap and scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I gained far more than I gave up, Phil. It was the best decision I’ve ever made. I gained riches beyond value.” He tugged his cap back on. “Now…I think Bart had the right idea. I know I’ve worked up a healthy appetite. Anyone care to join me at the picnic table?”
“Sounds good to me.”
Phil laughed and draped his arm around Leigh again. “Food always sounds good to you, my sweet.”
“True.” She grinned up at him. “But, I happen to know Angela brought her famous potato salad, and her even more famous strawberry shortcake.”
Phil rolled his eyes and licked his lips. “Say no more—let’s go!” He slid his hand down to catch hold of Leigh’s and took off at a dead run toward the tables.
Hosea laughed. “I guess they’re hungry.”
They were alone! Angela forced a smile. “Yes. Hungry and energetic.” She started walking toward the tables. There was safety in numbers, and if she could just reach the crowd she could get away from him.
“Famous potato salad, and even more famous strawberry shortcake, huh? I’ve got to have some of that.”
Angela’s nerves tingled as Hosea fell into step beside her. She wiped her moist palms against her khaki shorts and stared down at the grass. “Then you’d better know, Pastor Stevens, that ‘famous’ is an exaggeration.”
“I hope not, Miss Warren. But, to be honest, it probably wouldn’t matter at this point. I’m hungry as a bear coming out of hibernation.”
Angela glanced up at him from beneath the brim of her baseball cap and her stomach went all jittery again. She jerked her gaze away from his face and took a deep breath. “Excuse me, Pastor Stevens, I have to get the whipped cream from my car.”
Veering off to the right, she headed for the parking lot to compose herself. She could feel his gaze following her all the way.
Millions of dollars. Had he really given up millions of dollars?
Angela leaned against a tree, sipped her iced tea and watched Hosea Stevens laugh, talk and hand out roasted corn to all comers. He couldn’t be more alien to her if he had suddenly grown fur and a tail. Her stepfather and Tony would have killed for that much money. It was inconceivable to her that this man had willingly given it up to obey the Lord.
Angela frowned and studied Hosea Stevens’s face. What had he answered Phil?…I gained riches beyond value. Did he truly mean that?
“What are you looking so serious, about? Don’t you know this is a picnic?”
Angela jumped and looked up at Alan Curtis, another church member. He smiled down at her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But you looked so solemn—and at least a thousand miles away.”
“No, I’m right here.” Angela gave him a polite smile and pushed away from the tree. “And now, I’m going over there, and try a piece of that coconut cake Emily brought. It looks wonderful.” She headed toward the dessert table.
“I don’t know about the cake—but I can highly recommend the strawberry shortcake.” Alan turned to walk beside her. “What do you do to those biscuits?”
“Ah, that’s a secret.”
“Well it’s a secret worth money.” He smiled again. “You could probably sell the recipe to one of those famous chefs for big bucks.”
“Why, thank you, sir.”
Big bucks. Millions of dollars. Angela lifted her gaze beyond Alan to the bonfire where the corn was roasting—to where Hosea was pulling back the shucks and handing it out to the laughing, chatting members of his congregation. No man willingly gave up millions of dollars. There had to be a reason.
She turned back to the table and gave Alan an absent smile as he handed her a piece of the coconut cake. She would find that reason when she got home. As she’d reminded Leigh, information was her specialty. For now, she’d stay hidden in the crowd at the table. She picked up a napkin and plastic fork and took a seat.
“Come on, Angela! They’re lining up for the water balloon toss, and we need another woman.”
Angela sighed and gave up as Leigh