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  Shoes to Fill

  Another

  Mt. Hope Southern Adventure

  Book Two

  Lynne Gentry

  Shoes to Fill (Mt. Hope Southern Adventures, Book Two)

  Copyright © 2017 by Lynne Gentry

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously.

  Cover photo © 2016 Lynne Gentry

  Cover Design by Castle Creations

  Edited by Gina Calvert

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  Details can be found at the end of SHOES TO FILL.

  Summary

  When you choose what’s worth fighting for...expect a war.

  Highly-educated millennial, David Harper, is adrift.

  He is also the pastor’s son.

  Or he was, until his father dropped dead in the pulpit.

  When David learns his widowed mother

  is in danger of losing the roof over her head,

  he surprises everyone,

  most of all himself,

  and steps in to fill his father’s pastoral shoes.

  David knows it won’t be easy to dynamite

  the small congregation into the twenty-first century,

  but it’s the tough little blonde who blows his world apart.

  Return once again to the humor and drama

  of the small Texas town of Mt. Hope.

  Fast-paced humor. Tear-jerking candor.

  Heart-melting romance.

  www.lynnegentry.com

  MT. HOPE SOUTHERN ADVENTURES

  Walking Shoes

  Shoes to Fill

  Dancing Shoes

  Baby Shoes

  WOMEN OF FOSSIL RIDGE SERIES

  Flying Fossils

  MECIAL THRILLER

  Ghost Heart

  Check out Lynne Gentry’s

  Sci-Fi/Time Travel Adventures

  The Carthage Chronicles

  Healer of Carthage

  Return to Exile

  Valley of Decision

  A Perfect Fit

  Shades of Surrender

  For Eric

  You are your father’s son.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  EPILOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  David stood beside his mother at the sanctuary door of Mt. Hope Community Church. His sister had bailed, claiming someone needed to go home and check on Grandmother. Maddie had always hated the duty of shaking hands with the exiting members. David, on the other hand, believed someone had to stand by Momma in her grief. He was smiling, but his mind remained focused on his feet and the uncomfortable blisters his father’s Sunday shoes had rubbed. In an unusually rash decision to jump in and preach in his father’s place, he’d failed to consider how painful it would be to step into shoes he could never fill.

  “Davy.” Maxine Davis elbowed her way to the front of the line. Before he could back away, her long, diamond-clad fingers shot out from the sleeve of her fur coat and wrapped around his arm. “We’re so blessed that you’ve decided to replace your dad in the pulpit.”

  Replace Dad?

  He’d not preached this morning to replace his recently deceased father. He’d preached to keep the board from evicting his mother from the parsonage. David knew he was operating on borrowed time. Sooner or later, the board would have to fill the pulpit with a qualified pastor and when they did, Momma would have to move out of her church-owned home.

  He smiled inwardly at the memory of purposely running off the first replacement minister candidate who’d been recruited for the job just days after his father’s death. He should feel bad about bursting the bubble of the overly zealous Postiers. But he didn’t. The horror tales he’d told them about living in the parsonage had been the perfect set up for the regular Sunday morning visit of the Story sisters. The young preaching candidate had nearly dropped his towel when he exited the parsonage bathroom and found two old women intent on investigating his privacy. Ted Postier had barely taken the time to dry off before he loaded his family into David’s grandmother’s limo and begged Melvin to drive them to the nearest airport.

  His mother had gotten on to him for exaggerating the tribulations of living in the parsonage, but, David reasoned, he’d actually saved the young couple from drying up in the West Texas heat. Once his mother was emotionally strong enough to move on, the elder board could hire whomever they pleased. He would wish the new guy good luck, then he, too, would move on and sort out his own life ... a task he’d put off far too long.

  “Dad wouldn’t want to leave anyone in a lurch.” David couldn’t pry himself from Maxine’s claws. “I’m happy to fill in until things get settled.”

  “You’re every bit as good as your father.” Maxine tightened her grip as her gaze slid over to Momma. “Maybe even better.”

  David shook his head. “Dad was the real deal.”

  “Nobody could quote scripture like J.D. Harper,” Maxine agreed. “But we are in desperate need of a theologian. Someone who can really dig deep.” She squeezed his hand a little tighter. “You’re not going back to Oxford, right?”

  He would never get used to everyone knowing his business. “Not for now.”

  “And what about taking over your grandfather’s law firm?” Maxine glanced at Leona. “Your mother’s made it clear that’s what she intends for your boy.”

  “The firm will be there when David is ready.” Momma’s undying support deserved more than the Band-Aid sermon he’d offered this morning.

  “Well, in that case.” Maxine’s free hand reached behind her and, in a magician-like-slight-of-hand, produced her daughter.

  “Nellie?” David’s aversion to this particular redhead curdled his gut. How could he have missed his old nemesis in the sparse crowd?

  “I texted Cornelia when I saw you in the pulpit. Said she should get here fast as she could. Told her of course you’d remember her,” Maxine gushed. “After all, the preacher’s son and the elder’s daughter were practically inseparable growing up.”

  David’s memories of Nellie were more like teenage nightmares. She’d hounded him all through junior high and high school. When they were in ninth grade she took her stalking to a new level and tricked him into following her into the baptistry changing room where she’d previously removed the light bulb. He’d never forget how she’d pressed him against the wall and planted a wet kiss on his ear. In his frantic attempt to escape, her braces snagged his neck and removed a layer of skin. Momma
seemed to believe his explanation that he’d cut himself trying out his father’s razor, but from then on she’d made it her business to make sure he and Nellie were never alone.

  “Of course he remembers Nellie, Maxine.” Momma intercepted Maxine’s attempt to put them together now. Once again, his mother had his back. Which was why it was his turn to have hers. “Don’t you, David?”

  “Uh, sure.” David had no choice but to accept Nellie’s outstretch hand. “It’s been awhile, Nellie.”

  Nellie’s eyes glowed with the same fiery intensity they had in that dark changing room. “Cornelia.”

  “Sorry,” David mumbled, fuming that he had to stand here and pretend he was comfortable with the daughter of the chairman of the church board. “Cornelia.”

  “You’re more handsome than I remember,” Nellie purred, her gaze slithering down his neck. Though she managed to look demure enough for the church foyer, he could’ve sworn she was checking to see if her braces had left a scar. “And you’re taller than you look on Facebook,” she smiled at David’s increasing discomfort. “I’m friends with your sister.”

  Furious that Maddie had posted anything that could aid Nellie’s ability to stalk him again, he pulled free. “It’s the shoes.”

  Nellie’s eyes flitted to his feet. She frowned. “Why are you wearing Reverend Harper’s old Sunday shoes?”

  “For me,” Momma interjected. “He did it for me.”

  “Davy always has been such a thoughtful young man,” Maxine cooed. “And you must have worn those new shoes for Davy, Leona.” She pointed at the large red bows wrapping Momma’s ankles.

  Momma raised her chin. “I wore them for me, Maxine.”

  Maxine’s nostrils flared. Before she could speak Nellie broke in.

  “I’m sorry I missed your sermon, David.” Nellie flashed her expensive smile again. “Traffic was horribly slow because of the icy roads.” She still had those cat-like green eyes he didn’t trust, but he wasn’t a stupid kid anymore either. People change. Nellie had grown up, that was for sure. She was tall. Dark auburn hair. Attractive. Maybe she’d also outgrown her crush on him. Maybe the sparks were only flying in his imagination. “We should get together,” she continued. “Catch up.” Nellie walked her fingers up his jacket lapel. “Reconnect.”

  Or maybe not.

  “I’m planning on keeping him pretty busy, Cornelia,” Momma chirped. “But maybe you two can catch up at the New Year’s Eve party. Oh, excuse me. There’s Bette Bob.” Momma gently moved Maxine and Nellie aside and reached for the next member in line. “Let me hug that dear, sweet niece of yours, Bette Bob.” Momma wrapped her arms around Amy. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for my family.” She leaned back and said, “Can we, David?”

  “No. I mean, yes, thanks.” David offered his hand to the attractive blonde in a pretty pink sweater. “Grandmother told us your care is the reason she’s not suing the hospital for sending her to the nursing home rehab.”

  Amy’s firm but brief handshake was a jolt to his entire system. “Then I did my job.” She withdrew her hand and turned her attention directly to his mother. “Mrs. Worthington feeling better since her rehab release?”

  “She was thrown out,” Momma said, bluntly.

  David couldn’t believe his mother’s candor. He’d never seen her risk telling anyone anything that might tarnish the perfect image she’d always strived to uphold. Especially not a member of the church. What other changes could he expect if he didn’t help her hold it together?

  “When does she start her in-home therapy?” Amy asked, still ignoring David.

  “Monday,” David interjected.

  Amy’s genuinely pleased smile disappeared. “Tell her to do what the therapists advise and she’ll be back on her feet in no time.” She spun and headed for the fellowship hall exit.

  David watched Amy’s blonde’s curls swish across her perfect shoulders. He was sick and tired of people feeling like they could treat the preacher’s kids as if they didn’t have feelings. Granted, they’d clashed over a plate of fudge at his father’s funeral lunch, but that didn’t give her the right to continue to blow him off. Of course, he hadn’t exactly been at his best that day, but then he had just buried his father. Tempting as it was to claim he deserved a break, he regretted that he’d acted like a jerk. If he was going to stick around for the next year, he couldn’t avoid someone who seemed committed to turning up every Sunday.

  “Excuse me, Momma.” David pushed past Bette Bob and chased after the quick stepping nurse. “Amy!” His shout bounced off the wooden pews in the empty sanctuary. “Wait up.”

  She kept going.

  He exceeded her hurried stride until he overtook her. “Hey.” David snagged her arm. “I just want to apolo—”

  Amy wheeled and faced him head on. “So this is your plan?”

  “Excuse me?”

  She looked at his fingers digging into her soft, pale sweater. “You preached about how your father wanted this church to grow. To be effective in changing this community, and possibly the world. You said if we all pulled together, Mt. Hope Community Church could have a bright future. Do you really believe that?” Challenge blazed in her stunning blue eyes.

  He dropped his planned apology and seized the challenge. “I know it’s not going to be easy, but, yes, I do.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to lead the charge?”

  “You sure you don’t have a legal background? You’re killer on the cross-examination.”

  “Is strong-arming the method you intend to employ?” Her eyes cut once again to his hold on her arm.

  He let go. “Sorry.” He didn’t intend to spend every encounter apologizing. “You’re right. I don’t know anything about growing a church.”

  “I know.”

  David bristled at her unexpected honesty. “So you don’t think I could turn this place around?”

  “Jesus would have a hard time turning this place around.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  She sighed. “I don’t want this church to close its doors, but my aunt told me she’s worried that’s exactly what will happen, especially now that the Harper era is over. It is over, right?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Once you assuage your guilt, you’ll take your mother and—”

  “My guilt?”

  “Something made you step into your father’s pulpit today.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t think you preached because you’ve suddenly felt called to pastor a small town church.”

  After all he’d endured these past few days, she’d hit too close to the battle in his soul. “Don’t count me out.” David wheeled and strode toward his mother.

  His father’s legacy hung in the balance. He would not let it, nor his mother, sink on his watch ... and the beautiful blonde with the inexplicable chip on her shoulder could eat his dust.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Amy stormed into the fellowship hall, kicking herself for letting this man she barely knew have the last word. Again. What was it about him that set her off? It wasn’t like her to let a guy get under her skin. Especially one who acted so certain of himself, but was obviously suffering from something deeper than grief. She dealt with people in pain all the time. It was her compassion that made her so good at her job. Where was her grace for this hurting soul? Her hand froze on the coffee pot plug. What if she was confusing her lack of compassion with too much empathy?

  She knew how it felt to lose a parent. Three years ago a State Trooper’s call had forever changed her life. Remembering that awful night now brought a fresh wave of tears. Amy swiped her cheeks. Apparently, the dark days weren’t completely behind her. Maybe they never would be. She dug her phone from her purse. Her finger hovered over the play arrow on a voicemail she would never delete. A message she had memorized and wouldn’t risk playing where others could hear. She let the message play in her head.

  “It’s one
doctor’s opinion, Amy,” her dad said over Christmas music playing on his car radio. “Don’t swear off men just yet,” her mom added with the same eternal optimism that had carried Amy through years of medical issues. “We’ll meet you at your dorm and make a plan,” Dad promised. “Love you, kiddo,” they said together. “See you soon.”

  A minute later John and Libby Maxwell were dead, hit head-on by a driver skidding out of control on a patch of black ice.

  Amy dropped the phone in her purse, the ache in her heart sharp as the day death dealt its blow. Adding David’s loss to her own would not help her...or him, for that matter.

  In nursing school the teachers had preached the merits of maintaining a professional distance, citing the risks of becoming too emotionally involved. Never once had any of her instructors added the stipulation that she should avoid handsome men in need of rescuing. After her parents died, she’d been forced to make the most painful of all decisions on her own. Better to keep all men at bay than risk having her heart broken if she fell in love with one who wanted children.

  She should thank David for making her aware that this heightened sense of care she was feeling for him was simply strong empathy. Now that she knew what she was dealing with, she could dig her toes into the sand and safely toss him a life preserver without being dragged under.

  Helping him deal with his grief was not only her responsibility as a medical professional, it was the Christian thing to do. Then why did she feel like such a coward?

  Amy yanked the plug and ripped the filter holder from the industrial coffeepot tower. With an angry flick of her wrist she dumped the grounds in the trash.

  “I thought I’d find you here.” Aunt Bette Bob dropped her purse and Bible on the counter. “Ever since you were a little girl, the moment you got upset you’d go in search of something to clean. Libby Ann used to say she could always tell when something was bothering her Amy by—”

  “The order in my room.” Amy could never thank her aunt enough for trying to fill the void her parents had left, but sometimes Aunt Bette Bob sounded so much like her mother it made the hole seem bigger. “The sooner we get this mess cleaned up, the sooner we can tackle that roast you put on this morning.”