Free Grounds to Believe by Shelley Bates Page A

trouble?”
    She sighed, and walked over to the waist-high parapet. “Not exactly.” She still gripped her elbows. If he joined her she’d probably jump over the edge, dress and all.
    He slid his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Then what, exactly? Your friends seemed pretty welcoming. I was sorry I’d messed up on the time.”
    She shook her head. “It’s hard to explain.”
    Aha. No Outsiders allowed. “Okay. We can stand here and make small talk, if that’ll make you feel better. When I finish Donne can I trade him for The Norton Anthology? ”
    The corner of her mouth twitched in a smile. A good sign. She was a little harder to talk to than he’d expected,but he couldn’t just give up and walk away, much as he’d like to. He needed her.
    “What are you doing out here?” she asked the top of the wall. The words came out reluctantly, as if she were making conversation against her will.
    “I like to ride at night. I saw the turnoff for the park and thought I’d cruise down and have a look.”
    “Do you normally ride on the sidewalk?” she said, turning to look down the path at the way he’d come.
    “There weren’t any signs.”
    Her smile was real this time, although its primness told him what she thought of people who didn’t respect the law. A big dimple dented her cheek at the corner of her mouth, and he looked away. His woman of choice was a smart brunette who knew her own mind and used it to glorify God. Despite what Harry Everett thought, staying professional on this job was the least of his problems.
    “How did you know I was going to be at the hall earlier?” she asked abruptly. She released her grip on her elbows and touched the river stones of the parapet with one finger, tracing their circular shape.
    She was relaxing. He could risk moving a little closer. He kept his attention on the lake, his stance casual, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “I didn’t know the hall belonged to your group. Someone told me I could catch a service there. Like I said, I was sorry I was late. I didn’t know the protocol, that’s all.”
    He spun his story with the smoothness of long practice. He moved closer until he stood about four feet from her.It bugged her if he looked her in the eye, so he leaned both elbows on the parapet and gazed into the distance, as if sharing the view with her.
    “So what kind of service did I miss?”
    She hesitated, which surprised him. Usually they couldn’t wait to get started on drawing him into their control. “It’s a mission service.”
    Was he going to have to pull it out of her sentence by sentence? “What happens?”
    “We sing. The Shep—um, minister preaches. You know.”
    “No, I don’t.”
    “Not a religious man?” She ducked her head, embarrassed that a personal question had escaped her.
    He smiled. He had a B.A. in criminal justice, a master’s in theology, and God had given him more peace in his heart than he could express. The first two, at least, he could keep to himself.
    “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be nosy.” She had a nice voice. Contralto. The kind of voice suited to intimate talks in the dark.
    “It’s okay. I’m a believer.”
    “In what?”
    Had she never heard that expression before? “In God. And His Son.”
    She looked at him briefly, as if he had said something puzzling. “You’re very forthcoming about it.”
    And she wasn’t. This was definitely not by the book.
    “What does it say? ‘Every spirit that confesses Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is of God.’”
    “It also says to try the spirits, so you won’t be deceived.”
    “Do you think I’m deceived?”
    She sighed. “Most of the world is. It’s not easy to find the true path of God. Or His will.”
    He had the feeling her meaning was a little more personal than she intended. He also had the feeling that he had been lumped in with a deceived world. That, at least, he recognized. Most closed groups kept the “us against them”