Free Destiny's Last Bachelor? by Christyne Butler

felt more than heard someone slide into the pew next to her. Looking up, she was surprised to find Dean sitting there. “What are you doing here?”
    “The same as you, I’d guess.” He kept his voice low, gaze forward, as he folded his hands together in his lap. “Better to beg for forgiveness than ask permission, I always say.”
    Blaming the sudden warmth flooding her veins on the warm July day and not on the way a freshly shaved Dean looked this morning was easier said than done. He was dressed in a starched white shirt, sleeves rolled back along his forearms, and khakis with a sharply pressed crease down the center of each pant leg. She caught a quick whiff of the man’s spicy cologne and had to catch her breath.
    She stopped taking inventory long enough to realize they were the only two people left inside the simple country church. “I wasn’t doing either.”
    “Well, there’s nothing wrong with a simple prayer or two,” Dean said, still not looking at her. “They say He answers every one.”
    “Do you honestly believe that?”
    “Sure.” This time he looked at her and she read exhaustion in his dark eyes. “But sometimes the answer is no.”
    His reply startled her and then she remembered why he’d left so suddenly yesterday. “How did it go with your—with the call you got? I hope everything turned out okay.”
    Now it was Dean’s turn to be surprised. She could see he hadn’t expected her to say that. He blinked and then looked down at his hands. “Not good. There was a two-car crash out on the highway heading toward Laramie. We were called in to handle the resulting brush fire. It took most of the night, but we managed to get it out before too much damage was done to the surrounding acreage.”
    A deep breath expanded his chest before he slowly released it. He gazed forward again and continued, “Can’t say the same for the people. The driver of the car who caused the crash didn’t make it. Four teenagers in the other car are in the hospital.”
    His words tugged at her heart. “Oh, my. Do you know any of them?”
    He shook his head. “Nope. Neither car was from Destiny.”
    Silence filled the air and Priscilla struggled with what to say next, which was so unlike her. She’d always been able to talk to anyone in any given situation. What was it about this man that made her so...uncertain? “Maybe you should have skipped church this morning and slept in instead.”
    He turned to her with one raised eyebrow. “It’s just that you look so tired,” she added.
    “I am tired. You ready to get out of here?”
    Priscilla nodded, assuming Bobby and Leeann would be waiting outside for her.
    “Besides, my nonni always knows when I skip out on Sunday services,” Dean said, getting to his feet and moving into the aisle. “Don’t ask me how, since she’s firmly entrenched on the Jersey Shore, but she’ll text me with a pointed question just the same.”
    She was impressed his grandmother knew what texting was. Her father had barely figured out his smartphone, but then again, he had a secretary available practically twenty-four hours a day.
    Priscilla stood, one hand casually brushing her skirt back into place as she held her clutch purse in the other. She caught Dean’s gaze trailing over her from her head to her feet, where it lingered. This morning, she’d chosen a chocolate-brown silk jacquard dress and matching heels, complete with saucy bows on the toes, hoping she wouldn’t be too overdressed. Judging from the number of people wearing jeans and simple cotton sundresses—and Dean’s apparent fascination with her shoes—she had been.
    “I do plan to take your advice,” she said, heading for the exit with Dean right beside her as they walked out into the sunshine, “and change my outfit, including my shoes, before visiting the camp today.”
    “Good to know, seeing as how I’ve been elected as your tour guide.”
    His words caused Priscilla to stumble, one foot catching in the