Free For the Love of God by Janet Dailey Page B

worded, Abbie. I’ll need to have you retype it,” he said, hardly paying any attention to what she was doing.
    “You don’t have to have it yet this afternoon, do you?” she asked hopefully. “It’s already after five.”
    He bent his wrist to look at his watch. “I hadn’t realized it was that late already. You don’t mind staying a few more minutes while I reword this. There’s no reason for you to rush home.”
    “As a matter of fact there is,” Abbie admitted. “I have a date.”
    He took off his glasses to look at her. “Since when?” He was surprised. “Don’t tell me you took my advice and asked a man out?”
    “No.” She wasn’t quite
that
liberated. “Reverend Talbot stopped by this morning. He invited me to go out and have a pizza with him tonight.”
    “Reverend Talbot.” He repeated the name with curious emphasis. “My, my.”
    Abbie knew that tone of voice. It always preceded a cross-examination to determine her degree of interest in a particular date.
    “Dad, we’re just going out for a pizza,” Abbie cautioned him not to blow it out of all proportion. It was good advice for herself as well.
    “I guess the letter can wait… just as long as you retype it first thing in the morning,” he decided, and didn’t pursue the discussion of her evening date.
    “Thanks.” Abbie waved him a kiss as she hurried out of the office to her car.
    On the surface, it would have seemed more practical to ride back and forth to work with her father, but he was an early riser, often arriving at the office to work at four or five in the morning, when it was quiet and there were no interruptions. Abbie didn’t need to be there until the office opened at nine, so she usually drove Mabel.
    Mabel grunted her way through the traffic and grumbled up the winding street to Abbie’s home. Abbie only had an hour before Seth arrived, and she used every minute of it. While the bathtub filled with water, she ran a dust cloth over the furniture and picked up the clutter of magazines and newspapers.
    A quick bath and Abbie was faced with theimpossible decision of what to wear. Nothing seemed exactly appropriate. Her outfits were either too tight, or possibly too revealing, or too plain. Finally she settled on a pair of white jeans and a velour top in a rich kelly-green. Its V-neckline plunged a little. She’d have to remember to sit up straight.
    She was just running a brush through her hair when she heard the roar of the sports car’s motor coming up the drive. In her haste, she accidentally hooked the bristles in the gold hoop of her earring, giving her ear a painful tug.
    “Ouch!” It was a soft, involuntary cry, interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
    Hurrying out of the bathroom, Abbie reached the door just as he knocked. She opened it, intending to leave with him immediately, but Seth walked in.
    “I’m a couple of minutes early. I hope you don’t mind,” he said, and turned to look at Abbie still holding the door open.
    “No, that’s all right. I’m ready.” She noticed he was wearing his collar. It just peeped over the light blue of his windbreaker.
    “This is nice.” His glance made an assessing sweep of her apartment. “I wish I had this and you lived in the parsonage.” A frown flickered across her face as Abbie wondered whether a minister should be making such comments. Seth read her look, a smile slanting his masculine mouth. “Don’t worry. I’m not breaking any commandments. I don’t really covet your garret.”
    “I—”
    “You weren’t sure,” he insisted.
    “No.—”
    “You might want to bring a scarf.” His glance ran over the coppered blond of her hair. “I’ve got the top down on my car. The wind’s likely to mess up your hair.”
    “Good idea.” There was a nervous edge to her smile as she backed away toward the apartment’s small bedroom. “It’ll just take me a minute to get one.”
    “There’s no rush,” Seth replied.
    But Abbie thought