"I am, I was, but I thought you'd lead up to the seduction a little more subtly."
"Why?"
"Why?" She spun around to look up at him, letting her perusal of tender morsels and chewy bits lapse for the moment. "You mean it's that simple? Just like that?" She snapped her fingers.
He wrinkled his brown in feigned concentration. "Not always. A few times it has required more time and effort." His golden brown eyes swept over her, taking in her neat slacks and cotton knit pullover. "Now, take you for instance. I'm betting you'd be a difficult case."
"Why do you say that?"
"Will you go to bed with me?"
"No!"
"See. I'm right every time." He tapped his forehead with his index finger. "When you've been doing this sort of thing as long as I have, you learn a few things along the way. You develop a sixth sense. I could tell immediately that I would have to use the long, slow, easy approach with you. It was the way you frowned slightly when the box of Tide mashed your bag of marshmallows. A dead give-away that you weren't going to be easy."
She gazed at him in mute wonder for several seconds, then burst out laughing. "Cage, I swear, you're amoral."
"Shameless." He winked. "But I'm sincere."
She turned out of the pet food aisle into another. He barged in front of her, blocking her path. "You look terrible."
"Is that an example of the long, slow, easy approach? If so, it needs work," she said dryly.
When she tried to go around him, he adroitly turned his basket sideways to block the aisle entirely. "You know what I mean. You look tired. Way too thin. What are they doing to you over there?"
"Nothing." She avoided his eyes.
But she knew she wasn't deceiving him any more than she had been deceiving herself. The Hendrens hadn't listened well to her declaration of independence. Or else they had listened, but were ignoring what she had said. They had every day's activities outlined for her before she came down to breakfast.
First there had been all the acknowledgments to be written after Hal's funeral. She had been almost grateful for that job because it had allowed her to call Cage and ask him to pick them up and mail them. That had created an opportunity for his parents to apologize to him.
It had been an awkward reunion. Cage had stood at the front door, looking like he feared they wouldn't invite him in. Jenny had held her breath, unable to distinguish the words he and Bob exchanged in the hallway. Then he was standing in the living room, looking at Sarah, who was huddled on the sofa. At last she raised her head.
"Hello, Cage. Thank you for coming by."
"Hello, Mother. How are you feeling?"
"Fine, fine," she said absently. She shot a questioning glance toward Jenny, who nodded her head slightly. Sarah wet her lips. "About the other night, the night of Hal's … funeral. What I said—"
"It doesn't matter," Cage had rushed to say. He crossed the room and knelt on one knee in front of his mother's chair, covering her pale, bloodless fingers with his hand. "I know you were upset."
Jenny's heart had gone out to him. He wanted so badly to believe that. But whether Sarah's apology was sincere or not, whether he believed it or not, they were at least voicing aloud the sentiments they should feel.
Jenny's chores at the parsonage seemed endless. The Hendrens had even discussed the possibility that she continue Hal's crusade to help the political refugees in Central America. Even the thought of tackling such a campaign exhausted her, and she refused to speak at rallies and such. But she had taken on the job of sending out a newsletter that detailed the problems as she had witnessed them firsthand and asked for donations to further the relief cause.
She knew her eyes were shadowed with fatigue, knew that she had lost weight due to a notable lack of appetite, knew that she was wan and pale from not spending any
time outdoors.
"I'm worried about you," Cage said softly.
"I'm tired. Everyone is. Hal's death, the funeral, it's all taken its toll."
"It's been over two weeks. You spend more time in that parsonage than ever. That's unhealthy."
"But necessary."
"The church is their calling, not yours. They're going to make an old woman out of you if you let them, Jenny."