Under His Roof

CHAPTER XI

Sunday morning arrived with the smell of fresh coffee and the soft rustle of clothes from down the hall. I woke to Mrs. Bennett knocking gently on my door.

"Church at nine," she called through the door. "Don't want to be late."

I groaned quietly and sat up.

Church.

I had almost forgotten that Sundays were supposed to mean something here.

I opened my suitcase and stared at the clothes inside. Every outfit seemed to belong to a life that felt a million miles away. After digging through the pile, I pulled out a pale sage green silk dress with delicate golden buttons running down the front.

Back home, it had been something I'd wear to Sunday brunch.

Here, it looked almost ridiculous.

Still, I wasn't going to let Cedar Ridge completely erase me.

I spent twenty minutes styling my hair into soft waves, tying a silk ribbon around the back and slipping on a pair of small pearl earrings. The routine felt familiar. Comforting, even.

It reminded me of the girl I'd been before everything fell apart.

When I stepped into the hallway, Lucky was leaning against the banister in a stiff blue collared shirt that looked slightly too small for him.

His eyes traveled over my outfit.

Then he grinned.

"We're going to Cedar Ridge Baptist, Daphne. Not the Met Gala."

I rolled my eyes and smoothed down my skirt.

"Looking presentable matters. Just because I live in a small town now doesn't mean I have to dress like I'm about to mow the lawn."

"You look like you're about to accept an award."

He laughed as he headed downstairs.

I followed him, my heels clicking against the wooden steps.

Zeke was waiting by the front door.

He wore a dark gray button down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms and a pair of dark jeans. His hair was combed back, although a few strands had fallen loose across his forehead.

He looked up when I reached the bottom step.

His eyes moved over my dress, then my hair, then my heels before returning to my face.

He stared for just a second too long.

I suddenly became very aware of myself.

Zeke cleared his throat and leaned against the doorframe.

"You know we're not attending a royal wedding, right?"

I narrowed my eyes.

"Very funny. It's a nice dress."

"It's a lot of dress," he replied.

He opened the front door and stepped outside.

I followed, trying not to think about the fact that he'd looked at me twice.

The church was only a short walk from the house. It sat on a small hill overlooking Main Street, its white wooden walls glowing beneath the morning sun.

Inside, the sanctuary was simple but warm. Polished wooden pews filled the room, and colored glass windows scattered patches of light across the floor. The faint smell of coffee and old hymnals lingered in the air.

People greeted the Bennetts as we walked down the aisle.

Everyone seemed to know everyone.

I wasn't used to that.

At home, I had been surrounded by people constantly, but most of them had been there because of my father's name or because they wanted something from him.

Here, people hugged each other simply because they were happy to see one another.

We settled into a middle pew.

An older woman sitting in front of us turned around and smiled at me.

"Mrs. Bennett, who is your lovely guest?"

"This is Daphne," Mrs. Bennett said. "She's staying with us for a while."

The woman's smile widened.

"Daphne? As in Arthur Calloway's daughter?"

My stomach tightened.

"Yes."

"Your father owned that financial firm in the city, didn't he?"

I forced a polite smile.

"He did."

The woman looked as though she wanted to ask more, but the piano started before she could.

Everyone stood.

I reached for the hymnal and immediately realized I had no idea what page we were on.

I flipped through the thin pages, trying to find the number the pastor had announced.

A hand appeared beside mine.

Zeke turned the pages of his hymnal and stopped at the correct number. He tilted the book slightly toward me.

"Page ninety four."

"Thanks," I whispered.

He nodded and faced forward.

When he shifted back into his seat, his shoulder brushed mine.

It was barely anything.

Still, I felt the warmth of it through my dress.

I glanced at him.

He was staring straight ahead, completely focused on the service.

I looked back at the hymnal.

It's just because the pew is crowded, I told myself.

Nothing more.

After the service, everyone gathered outside on the grassy lawn.

Children chased each other beneath the oak trees while adults stood around talking about the weather, farm repairs, and everything happening in town.

I stood near the edge of the porch, holding my handbag and wondering how long I was supposed to pretend I was enjoying myself.

I missed my old life.

I missed the parties, the beautiful restaurants, the endless choices.

But standing there among people who seemed to belong so naturally to one another made me realize that what I missed most was having somewhere that felt like mine.

"You look like you're waiting for an execution."

I turned.

Zeke stood beside me, holding two paper cups of coffee.

"I'm fine."

"Sure."

"I'm enjoying the fresh air."

He took a sip.

"Right. And you always stand like a statue when you're enjoying yourself?"

I turned toward him.

"I don't stand like a statue. I have posture."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You should try it sometime."

A quiet laugh escaped him.

It caught me completely off guard.

I'd heard Zeke laugh before, but usually it was some dry sound after Lucky said something stupid.

This was different.

For a second, his entire face changed.

He looked younger.

Lighter.

I found myself staring.

Then I quickly looked away.

Why was I noticing his laugh?

That was annoying.

The walk home was quieter.

When we passed the bakery on Main Street, the smell of cinnamon and warm pastry drifted through the open door.

I slowed down.

Inside the window sat rows of cinnamon rolls, fruit tarts, and powdered pastries.

My stomach betrayed me with a quiet rumble.

"Can we stop and get some?" I asked.

Zeke stopped.

"For what?"

"For after lunch."

He glanced through the window.

"My mom made coffee cake."

"I know. But those look better."

He looked at me like I'd suggested buying a car because I didn't like walking.

"Daphne, a box of those costs fifteen dollars."

"So?"

"So why would we spend fifteen dollars on four pastries when there's already food at home?"

I frowned.

"It's fifteen dollars, Zeke. That's not exactly a fortune."

He stared at me.

Then he laughed.

Not the quiet laugh from church.

A real one.

"You really don't know how normal people live, do you?"

My cheeks warmed.

"I know how people live."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

He started walking again, still shaking his head.

"Fifteen dollars for four pastries."

"They're good pastries."

"They're pastries."

I followed him, trying not to smile.

I failed.

When we reached the house, I stepped onto the porch and reached into my handbag for my compact mirror.

That's when I realized something.

My bag felt lighter.

I looked at Zeke.

He was already halfway up the steps, carrying my Bible and umbrella beneath one arm.

I hadn't even noticed when he'd taken them.

"Zeke."

He stopped and looked back.

I glanced at the things in his arms.

"When did you take those?"

He shrugged.

"You were complaining about your heels."

"I was not complaining."

He gave me a look.

"You were complaining for the entire walk."

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

He wasn't wrong.

He held the Bible and umbrella out to me.

Our fingers brushed when I took them.

It was brief, but neither of us moved immediately.

His eyes met mine.

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

Then he cleared his throat and pulled his hand away.

"Don't read too much into it."

He turned and walked inside.

I remained on the porch, holding the Bible and umbrella against my chest.

My heart was beating faster than it should have been.

I stared at the screen door he'd disappeared through.

Maybe Zeke Bennett wasn't as impossible as I'd thought.

And maybe that was going to be a problem.