“With your friends, not Seth.”
“He
is
my friend.”
Lorrie Ann felt like crying. Everything had been so perfect until she’d ruined the night. “I’m sorry.” She started gathering the leftovers. “They were just sitting on the bench writing in a notebook.”
“We were doing our English homework,” Rachel mumbled. “May I go—” she looked up to the loft then around the cabin “—to your room? Please.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Yes.” John sighed and reached his hand out to cup his daughter’s face. “I love you, but you’re too young to date. We’ll talk about this later. From now on, you will go straight to Lorrie Ann’s car.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lorrie Ann started running water in the sink. “I ruined the family dinner.”
He carried the remaining dishes to the counter. “No, you didn’t. That’s what families do. We laugh, love, fight, work it out and start all over.” John braced his arms on the tile edge next to her. “Actually, this might be the first time Rachel has broken any of my rules.” John started drying the dishes as she washed.
The domestic job had her feeling warm inside.
He set the towel down and turned to her, one hip rested on the edge. “Man, she’s almost a teenager. I don’t think I’m ready for a teenage daughter. I don’t know how I’m going to do this without Carol. If I had my way, I’d just lock the girls away. What do I know about teenagers? Carol was the only girl I ever dated. I didn’t even have a sister.”
“You’ll be fine. I personally think dads are the key to raising a self-confident girl.”
He leaned in closer, about to say something. Her gaze stayed on his eyes, waiting.
“Daddy, tonight’s game night. Can Lorrie Ann play with us?”
They both pulled back.
“Oh, no. I think I’ve done enough damage for one night. I’m going to be heading home.”
John’s golden eyes pierced her. “Why don’t you play with us. You can pick the game.”
Lorrie Ann wanted to linger, but what frightened her most was the desire to stay forever. He needed a stable woman in his life, not a walking disaster.
“Good night, rug rat.” She kissed Celeste on the cheek. “I’m sure Aunt Maggie will be sending me over with breakfast again.”
“Good night.”
“I’ll walk you out.” He opened the door and waited for her to walk through. “Dinner was nice, thanks. I don’t remember the last time I came home to dinner on the table.”
“Up until the middle-school drama.” She stopped on the front porch. As much as her brain screamed for her to run as fast as she could, something else wanted to hang on and never leave. “Sorry about the boyfriend thing.” She bit her lip and debated if she had a right to make the next statement. “About the dance—you should still let her go. I’m sure they would love to have you as a chaperone. My aunt and uncle attended all our dances when I was in school.”
“You’re probably right. Lorrie Ann, it’s not your fault. She’s growing up, and I’m going to have to find a way to deal with it.” He shuffled his feet, his hands fisted deep in his pockets as he looked over the driveway toward the pecan orchard. He cleared his throat. “About Saturday...?”
She smiled. He reminded her of a middle-school boy asking a girl for his first dance. “I would love to.”
His face turned back to her. “Really?”
“Yeah. The girls said they had plans with their friends and you didn’t like being alone.”
“Oh.” Something crossed his face she hadn’t seen before, but it disappeared quickly, and he flashed her his heartwarming grin. “I’ll be working on the house until about two or three. I’m trying to get the remodeling done before spring. We can head to Kerrville about five. That should give us time to eat dinner then head out to the art gallery.”
“Sounds good.”
Back away, girl. Put one foot in front of the other.
She moved to the steps.
He followed her down. His boots crunched the red gravel walkway. She could hear the wind whispering through the branches as insects chirped and sang. The urge to hold John’s hand caused her fingers to clench. She kept a safe distance between them. More important, she needed to keep her heart at a safe distance. A bad feeling washed over her that she would spend most of the night wondering what it would be like to kiss a pastor. Well, not any pastor—just Pastor John Levi.
* * *
John lingered on the edge of the porch, even after hearing the screen door close behind Lorrie Ann. Sometimes life changed so fast he felt out of control, but he couldn’t remember ever feeling so alone. Walking to the front railing, he scanned the rows of pecan trees that stretched into the darkness. The stars appeared anchored in the velvet night sky, but under his feet it felt as if his world was shifting.
He didn’t like this edgy, restless feeling that had been hounding him. Was it an awareness of Lorrie Ann as a woman or the idea that Rachel inched closer to growing up each day?
Both thoughts made him uncomfortable. It didn’t matter how nice it felt having Lorrie Ann at the dinner table. He couldn’t let his heart go there.
His head dropped between his shoulders. How could he raise two girls without Carol’s insight and wisdom? Just the thought of Rachel dating... No, he couldn’t let his mind wander down that path. Despite his love for Carol, he had neglected and hurt her. If he couldn’t prevent that from happening, how could he allow himself to trust some kid with his daughter’s heart?
“Daddy?” Celeste had her head poking out the door. “Can we play a game? Rachel is already asleep.”
What he could do right now was hold his little girl and let her know he loved her.
“Come on, monkey. How about a story instead of a game tonight?” He led her into the living room.
“Sure!” She headed up the stairs and returned with a large hardcover book. With one arm wrapped around the children’s story Bible, Celeste jumped onto the sofa next to him.
One thing he knew with certainty—there was no promise of a second chance. He pushed a few loose strands of hair from her face and kissed her forehead. “Which story do you want tonight?”
“The one about Joseph and Mary with baby Jesus.”
She curled into his lap, her head on his chest. He took the time to feel the rhythm of her heart and hear her soft breathing. He forced himself to live in the moment and the incredible gift curled up in his lap.
Chapter Eleven
A
late-October front had blown in and dropped the temperature. Wrapped up in Aunt Maggie’s poncho, Lorrie Ann felt like Little Red Riding Hood as she followed the dirt road along the fence. Pulling the heavy wool closer, she grinned. Well, more like Purple Riding Hood. Sent to the Childress Ranch, Lorrie Ann carried a basket heavy with hot coffee and cinnamon rolls.
She slipped through the gate that divided the two properties and continued on the road until she saw the grand two-story limestone home. She remembered hiding in the huge house when she was little and recalled the broken boards leading to the sagging porch and the ugly carpet that gave the house a moldy smell.
Now, standing out against the majestic hills in the background, the porch and upper-level deck gleamed with newly replaced rich wood, taking the home back to the pride of the first Childress that had settled here.
As she moved closer, she saw John’s truck parked at the side of the house, breaking the illusion of days gone by.
Taking a deep breath, she moved up the recently rebuilt steps. At the door, she hesitated with disappointment when she spotted two other vehicles. She shook her head. She should be relieved John had company. The less time they spent alone the better.
“Hello?” Stepping into the house was a shock. The place stood gutted; only a few of the old columns remained. From the front door, she could see all the way through the house to the French doors and huge window covering the back wall. Clear plastic covered old wood floors. Jake and two other men she recognized from church worked in the far left corner.
“Lorrie Ann.” Jake turned off the power tool and walked toward her. “Let me guess—you’re looking for John?”
She felt her face heat up, and she glanced to the grand staircase. John appeared at the top and paused when he spotted her. Then a grin filled his face, bringing out his dimple. She forgot all about Jake and the others.
“John! You have company, and I think she brought gifts from Maggie’s kitchen.” Jake took the loaded basket from her and peeked inside.
Now she knew why Aunt Maggie had packed so much. “With the front moving in so fast, she thought you might want some warm coffee. And of course, being Aunt Maggie, she had to send food, too.”
In a few seconds, the guys pulled together makeshift chairs and passed around the basket. She found herself sitting on the foot of the curved stairs next to John.
There was no talking as the men ate the cinnamon rolls, just a few moans of appreciation. When George wiped his hands on paint-stained work jeans, she remembered the wipes in the basket and handed them out.
“This is why we work for you, John—the off chance your neighbor will feed us.” Jake winked at her as he stood. “I guess that’s good for a bit more work. We’re going to finish the drywall in the kitchen, then it’ll be ready for the cabinets.” He nodded to Lorrie Ann and grinned. “Thanks for the delivery. It hit the spot.”
“Want a tour?” John stood and offered his hand to her.
“It looks a little different from the last time I was here.” She put her hand in his, enjoying the feel of his warmth and strength.
Her feminist friends in L.A. would be appalled at the way she liked feeling feminine and a bit fragile. Even though she knew safe and protected was an illusion. She sighed. Yep, she definitely needed to get back to California.
He led her to the area where the guys hung drywall. The nail gun punctured the wall with a loud thud.
“This is obviously the kitchen. We’re putting a large island here that has a curved countertop raised on that side.” He swung his arms, showing the layout. “It’ll be large enough to fit five people. The stove will be here so you can face the living area while cooking. I thought about putting the sink there, too.” He turned to face the back wall, where a giant window framed a view of the hills. “But I decided to keep it under the window looking out back. We’re using local granite.” He patted Jake on the back as they passed him. “Good work, guys. I can’t thank you enough for helping me on your day off.”
“Make sure to put in a good word for us with the man upstairs,” Adrian said, wrapping a cord around another power tool as he started packing them up. “I love restoring the old homes around here.”
John nodded. “I can’t wait until we get started on the cabinets.” He looked at Lorrie Ann. “We’re using the old wood from the carriage house.
“Over in the far corner, where the large bay window sits, is a new room and bath.” He placed his hand under her elbow. “For now, I’m going to use it as an office, but I wanted to have a bedroom on the ground floor if we ever need it.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “I was thinking more along the lines of Dub moving in with us, but with Rachel’s leg I think it’s a good idea to have the bedroom option down here.”
She nodded. When she and Brent had looked at houses, it had never crossed their minds to think of the future or the needs of others. “That’s a smart plan.”
“This whole floor will remain open from the kitchen to the living room, with a large dining-room table along those windows joining the two.” His words created an image of the perfect family living space. “A little like Maggie’s.” He winked at her. “I love her big table and the idea of family and friends always having a seat.”
Lorrie Ann couldn’t help comparing it against her life with Brent. The large glass-and-steel table at his house had such a different purpose, to impress and intimidate.
“That’s perfect. Are you going to have it made out of the old wood?”
“No, I already have the table. On a mission trip to Mexico, we came across some furniture makers. They had this twelve-foot table. The legs are a foot thick and hand carved. They’re incredible. The wood was saved from an old mission. The men were so proud of their work.” He laughed. “We had to tie it down on the top of the bus with ropes running across the roof, crisscrossing from window to window.”
His hand slipped from her elbow to her hand as he pulled her up the staircase. “The stairs and front porch were the first structures we repaired. It was amazing no one was hurt.”
She laughed. “I used to hide here. The stairs scared me.”
“No one’s lived here for over twenty years. We had to evict a family of raccoons.” With his last words, they reached the second floor. To the right, the large bay seating area drew her to step into the open space. The floor-to-ceiling window gave a panoramic view. From up here she could see her uncle’s pecan orchard. The river curved below the bluff behind the house. She turned to John. “This is beautiful. You have a million-dollar view here.”
He looked to the hallway behind him. “This floor had six small rooms and one bathroom. We reframed it as four rooms with larger closets and two-and-a-half baths. The front is the master.”
She poked her head into each room. “Have the girls picked out their rooms yet?”
“Oh, yes. Celeste wants the room with the box-seat window. She likes the idea of hiding things in the seat, and it’s next to my room. Rachel took the room with its own half bath.”
She smiled, picturing Celeste with clothes, books and toys all over the floor and every piece of furniture. Rachel would have a place for everything and everything in its place.
“This is going to be a wonderful home for the girls.”
“I’m hoping to get enough done that we can move in before May so Maggie can have her biggest cabin back for the summer tourists. Plus, it’ll be nice to have our own place. Only one floor left.” Going back to the large bay window, he led the way up a narrow staircase taking them to the once-upon-a-time attic.
“This is my favorite room.” The large half-circle windows at the end of the room were breathtaking. “I won’t be able to finish it out anytime soon, but I want the basics in place.” He stood at the window that looked across the ranch. “From here you can see Dub’s stables and arena.”
He turned back to her, the sun highlighting his bone structure. She put her hand in her pocket to keep it from running along his jaw. The dark shadow of a beard gave him the look of a rugged workingman, the kind of man who took care of his family.
“I thought about making this floor the master suite, but it’s a bit disconnected from the rest of the house, and all this room would be wasted on one person.”
“Do you think you’ll ever remarry?” Did she just blurt that out? “Sorry, that was really personal.”
“You take care of my girls, and I’ve given you the first tour of my home. Hopefully, we’re friends enough to ask personal questions.” He glanced at his watch. “If we’re going to eat dinner before the art opening, we need to close up shop.” He held his arm out to her.
As they headed out of the house, she realized he never answered her question.
* * *
Standing in front of the mirror, Lorrie Ann twisted back and forth. Maybe she should change. The heels might be a bit much for an art opening in Kerrville. But she loved the way the black velvet straps laced up her calves. She wore a knee-length wraparound skirt and a blue-and-green-marbled silk shirt with a bit of a Southwest look to it. She glanced back in her closet. Maybe the shirt with a pair of jeans and a pair of Aunt Maggie’s designer cowboy boots would be better.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.
“Lorrie Ann?” Aunt Maggie’s voice drifted through the door. “Pastor John’s here.”
Lorrie Ann’s eyes flew to the clock by her bedside. Ugh, where had the time gone? She crossed the room and opened the door.
“Are the shoes too much?”
“You’re asking me after what you wore to the Wednesday-night prayer meeting?” Laughter laced her voice. “Come on. You’re beautiful, and that poor man looks nervous.”
“Oh, Aunt Maggie, I’m sorry I didn’t even think about how my choices affect you.”
“Don’t be silly. I don’t let what others do or think bother me. Anyways, this is Texas. You can wear stilettos or torn jeans, as long as you walk with enough confidence. Now, hurry on with you.”
Lorrie Ann took a deep breath and walked down the hallway, keeping her back straight.
Smile, stand tall and fake it as long as you have to.
John stood with his back to them, looking at the photos lining the shelves.
Uncle Billy put the newspaper down and smiled at her. “Lorrie Ann, you look downright pretty.”
John spun on his heels. “Wow, you always seem to surprise me.”
“Is that a good thing?” She held her smile, trying to read him. “I wasn’t sure what kind of art gallery we were going to, so if I need—”
“No, it’s perfect. He does contemporary Western type of stuff, so I think you’re perfect. I mean your outfit is perfect. Well, you are, too, but I...”
Her smile became real as her heart jumped around a little.
“Have her home by nine o’clock.” Uncle Billy’s stern voice startled them both.
A panicked look flashed across John’s face. “The show doesn’t end until—”
Uncle Billy laughed. “I’m just kidding. It’s been a long time since I got to say that for one of my girls. Y’all be careful.”
“Yes, sir.” John shook his hand.
Lorrie Ann bit her lip as they headed out the door. The words
one of my girls
hit her heart hard and caused strange emotions to bubble up.
John tilted his head and gave her a questioning look. She managed to nod. “He... I don’t think he’s ever called me his girl before.”
John’s concern melted into a slow smile. “He loves you.”
“I’m not even related to him by blood, and he’s so quiet I never really knew how he felt. My mother dumped me on them and left.” She crossed her arms around her waist and took in the pale yellows and pinks settling over the endless rows of pecan trees. She had never told anyone how she had come to live with her aunt. “I was in and out of their house growing up. My mom...well, she had issues. Whenever it got too rough or she got in over her head with the latest boyfriend, we would come here to hide.” She looked up at John, and the warmth in his eyes pushed at the cold that had been in her heart for so long. No other man had ever listened to her the way he did. In a way, it scared her to find she might actually trust him. He didn’t know the real Lorrie Ann. “When I was twelve she decided I got in her way and took off without a backward glance. That was the last time I saw her. Uncle Billy and Aunt Maggie didn’t have a choice. They were stuck with me.” She paused. “All these years later and they are still stuck with me. No one seems to know where my mom is—” she gave a half laugh “—or they’re just not telling me.”
Silence hung between them for a moment as John intently studied her face, his lips tight.
Finally he smiled. “That’s not the story they tell. You were a blessing to a couple that had dreamed of having a house full of kids but were only able to have one. William’s the kind of man who shows his love through action. Giving you a place to live, feeding you and taking care of you... That’s him saying he loves you.”
She used the tip of her finger to wipe away the tear before it fell and messed up her makeup. “I thought he just tolerated me because of Aunt Maggie.”
“He may be quiet, but he loves his family deeply, and you are his family.”
He paused at the end of the patio. “So, do we go in my well-loved, well-worn truck or your fancy city-slicker car?”
“I love your truck, but have you ever driven a BMW?”
With his eyes on the car, he gave a shake of his head.
She pulled the keys from her small clutch purse and held them up. “She’s all yours tonight.”
“Really?” Another smile slowly eased its way across his face, and she knew then and there she would do anything just to see his smile.
He sat behind the wheel and ran his hands over the leather steering wheel. She shook her head. What was it about men and cars?
Starting the engine, he eased the Beemer out of the driveway and winked at her. “I’ve never sat in, let alone driven, a machine worth more than I could make in three or more years as a country preacher.”
“Well, enjoy. I’m trading it in for something more practical. It was a birthday gift from Brent. He said it would look good parked in front of our house when we got married.” She watched the trees flash by as they climbed higher into the hills. “Since I won’t be moving back I should get rid of the car, too.”