Page 84 of A Surefire Love
Batter sizzled onto the pan. He almost didn’t recognize his phone ringing.
He fished it from his pocket and answered. “Hey, Greg.”
“Can you meet?” The senior pastor’s words were rushed. “We’re trying to figure out what to do for a building for the foreseeable future.”
“Sure. When?”
“Now. Eric texted everyone half an hour ago. I didn’t realize he’d left you off the message until I parked at his house. Looks like the last of the others are pulling up.”
Blaze laid a pancake on a napkin and smoothed butter across the surface. A little maple syrup and it’d be heaven, but he wouldn’t get to taste it.
“I’m on my way.”
“Good. I don’t think the omission was an accident.”
“Probably not. See you soon.” He ended the call and traced Blaze’s elbow with his fingertips. “I have to go.”
She folded the buttered pancake in the napkin like a taco and offered it to him. “For the road.”
“Thanks.” Considering he was running on zero sleep, a few calories might help.
He told himself to go, but his body stayed anchored. He wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her in for another hug. Probably should’ve put the pancakedown first, but … he closed his eyes and inhaled. She smelled of flowers, and the aromas of vanilla and butter hung on the air. It blended into a sense of belonging. Home.
Did he have to leave?
She stepped back and retrieved her spatula. “It sounded urgent?”
Was she pushing him out the door? More likely, sleep deprivation was skewing his concept of time, and he was lingering too long. The less time he allowed Eric to address the board without him, the better. He lifted the to-go pancake. “Thanks. Enjoy your breakfast.”
She nodded once. “Good luck. I’ll be praying.”
Blaze stayed still,listening, until the front door whooshed closed. Then, she braced her hands on the counter, lowered her head, and kept her promise, but mostly, she prayed for herself. For wisdom. Strength.
The hot smell of the pancakes forced her into motion. She flipped them as her mind turned over the facts Anson had shared.
Someone in a Rooted hoodie had been in the building last night, while Mercy had been out wearing a Rooted hoodie. Blaze’s history testified that a hurt, displaced girl could easily start a destructive fire.
Soft footfalls sounded behind her. “It really wasn’t me. I swear.” Mercy’s voice came meek and worried.
If only Mercy hadn’t lied about that school report, her tone would convince Blaze. As it was, she peered over her shoulder at her sister and prayed for discernment.
“He doesn’t think it was me, does he?” Mercy’s bottom lip disappeared into her mouth.
“No.” Though that might change if he knew what Blaze knew. Incapable of monitoring the pancakes, she shut off the burner and leaned against the counter.
If she told Anson about Mercy’s outing, he’d report it. There would be follow-up. Mercy might be blamed whether she was guilty or innocent. After all, she was Blaze’s sister. If people believed Mercy had followed in Blaze’s footsteps, they might believe Blaze had taken after her mother and become an unfit guardian.
Mercy tugged her T-shirt. Goosebumps appeared down her arms. She’d taken off the hoodie.
Blaze forced herself to smile. “Anson doesn’t think you were involved. Swear to me you weren’t at the church?”
“I swear.”
“Then don’t mention to anyone that you left last night, okay? We’ll keep that between us.”
Mercy nodded eagerly.
Blaze’s sense of danger didn’t relent. “I’m going to finish cooking. Why don’t you queue up one of your shows, and we’ll eat in the living room, okay?”
