Catch of the Day (Gideon's Cove #1)(23)

He smiles ruefully. “Not to worry, Maggie, not to worry.” He allows me to pour him a cup of coffee. “Maggie, sit with me a moment, won’t you, dear?”

I obey. He smells like damp wool and grass, the smell of Ireland, though he’s been in America for six years now. His hands are elegant and smooth, and I hide my own hands in my lap, conscious as always that they’re rough and red, the hands of a much older woman.

“Maggie, I’ve been thinking about our little problem here,” he says in a low voice. His eyes are kind, and my heart squeezes with painful, hopeless love. “This…this crush on me, it’s getting in the way of things, isn’t it?”

I nod, feeling the blush creep down my neck. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“I’ve given it some thought, Maggie, dear, and I wondered if I might help you in some way.” He takes a sip of coffee, then cocks his head. “What would you think if I set you up with some proper men?”

My mouth drops open. “Uh…well…um…Excuse me?”

“Well, Maggie, I think it might help you, ah, move on, shall we say, if you’d a nice man in your life, don’t you think?”

Humiliation sloshes through my limbs. The priest is trying to fix me up. Oh, God. “Um…I…”

“Proper men, as I said. Believe or not, I know a few.”

“Okay, um, well, what exactly do you mean by proper men?”

Tim leans back in the booth, takes a sip of coffee. “Well, Catholic would be the best place to start, of course.”

“How optimistic you are,” I say. “Single Catholic men in Gideon’s Cove. I can think of one, Father Tim, and he’s eighty years old and a double amputee. Plus, he’s already proposed, and I turned him down.”

Father Tim chuckles. “Ah, Maggie, ye of little faith.” He pauses and glances toward the counter. “Would you mind if I grabbed one of those muffins? I haven’t had breakfast yet.”

A pang of guilt makes a direct hit. Here he is, hungry and unfed, trying to solve my problems. “Sure, Father Tim! Of course! Whatever you want. Would you rather have pancakes? Or an omelet? I can have Octavio make you something more substantial than a muffin.”

“Well, now, that would be lovely. If it’s no trouble, that is.” He tells me what he wants and I call the order to Octavio.

“Judy,” I ask. “Would you bring this out to Father Tim when it’s ready?”

Judy sighs hugely, then nods, undeterred from reading the paper. “Can I have some more coffee?” Rolly asks.

“Why don’t you just help yourself?” she answers, gesturing in the direction of the coffeepot. I hop up and refill his cup, then return to Father Tim.

“All right then,” Father Tim says. “Now, bear with me, Maggie, because I know that when it comes to dating, you haven’t had much luck. But you’re also a bit on the fussy side, aren’t you?”

“Well, I don’t really think so,” I answer. Am I? Granted, I’m not Chantal, whose male friends require only a beating heart, but I don’t think I’m really fussy, either….

“I think it’s better if you keep an open mind. I’ll have the gentlemen give you a call, and you can arrange a meeting and have a chat. How’s that, dear?”

After Gifted Roger, I think I’d rather feed myself to sharks than go on another blind date. “Yeah…no,” I say.

“Maggie,” Father Tim says, frowning slightly. “Let me be blunt.” I wince, but he continues. “You’re a lovely girl, but I think you need a little help when it comes to dating.”

From a priest? I yelp in my head.

“We can’t have you embarrassing yourself every time we run into each other, now, can we?” Father Tim whispers, smiling sweetly.

I slide lower in the booth. My fists are clenched so hard in mortification that the skin over my knuckle cracks. My knee bumps Father Tim’s, and I jolt upright in my seat.

“Think of it as your penance, Maggie,” he says, eyes twinkling. “For overindulging last night.”

“What about forgive and forget?” I mutter. “Turn the other cheek? Go and sin no more?”

“Save it, lass, you’re with a professional. I won’t take no for an answer.”

I sigh. Rolly spins on his stool toward me. “I think you should try it, sweetheart,” he offers.

“Thanks, Rolly.” I close my eyes. “Okay, Father Tim. But you have to promise that they’ll be good, okay? Real possibilities.” I think for a minute. “Hey, what about Martin Broulier? He’s single, isn’t he?” Martin works out of town, a seemingly nice guy in his forties, maybe, not bad-looking. His wife and he divorced about a year ago.

Father Tim’s face brightens as Judy trudges over with his plate. “Thank you, Judy, darlin’, thank you. That’s lovely.” He takes a bite and closes his eyes in pleasure. “About Martin, no. He’s divorced.”

I frown. “Can’t we be Vatican II about this?”

“Well, Maggie, you couldn’t get married in the church, and we wouldn’t want that, would we? It wouldn’t be a true marriage. Unless he can get an annulment, that is.”

Maybe I’ll check Martin out on my own, outside the auspices of the papal police here. Father Tim continues. “No, I’ve a few ideas. I spoke with Father Bruce at St. Pius, and we’re sure we’ll come up with something.”