Читать книгу The Rancher's Holiday Hope - Brenda Minton - Страница 16

Sierra waited until the church bells rang before she entered the sanctuary and found a seat in the back on Sunday morning. Unfortunately she wasn’t the only one sliding in at the last minute. The doors opened and another latecomer entered.

This time Pastor Stevens noticed. He had just made a few announcements but he paused and smiled.

“I know several visitors are with us today. Why don’t we take a moment to greet our newcomers, and even those you might not have had a chance to shake hands with.”

Sierra groaned.

“Thought you could sneak in unnoticed?” Isaac West asked as he held out a hand. At least he knew she didn’t like hugs.

But the huggers were out there, lurking, waiting to wrap warm and welcoming arms around her. She winced at the thought.

“I tried,” she admitted.

Before she could say more, she was surrounded. It felt a lot like a mob but she knew it was all about well wishes and not an actual mobbing. She eased away from the push of people, smiling and acknowledging their warm welcome while trying to beat back the claustrophobia that darkened the periphery of her vision. Somehow she managed to speak to an older woman who held her hand, telling her how glad they were to see her.

Someone else reached for her other hand.

She reminded herself that this was good. People were friendly. They were all glad she’d shown up. They didn’t know about her past, about growing up in the midst of her parents’ destructive relationship or the weeks she’d spent being held captive in Afghanistan.

Taking a deep breath, she managed to smile as she started to back away. She desperately needed space. The urge to be free of the crowd started to claim her in its grip.

“Leave it to me.” A solid chest brushed against her back and a deep but concerned voice rumbled near her ear. She didn’t turn. She knew who that voice belonged to. She didn’t want to rely on him, on anyone.

But now wasn’t the time to argue.

“We’re going to find our seats now. I think the service is about to start,” Max said with an air of authority that had the crowd moving away, reclaiming their seats. His hand, strong and warm, held her arm. The touch grounded her.

She allowed him to take control, moving them to the refuge of a back pew. He released her arm as she took a seat but then he slid in next to her. Of course he did. He’d made it clear that they needed to find a seat before the service started. He’d said, “We’re.” Didn’t he know how small towns worked and that he had given people, even kind and well-meaning people, something to talk about?

“Are you okay?”

She wanted to tell him to mind his own business. That she could take care of herself. But all of the caustic remarks were buried beneath a layer of gratitude. She rarely allowed anyone to shelter or protect her. She didn’t know why it was him, a stranger.

Maybe it was easier to allow a stranger into her life than to lean on friends who had already done so much and knew too much.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He didn’t tease or mock. He merely nodded and reached for a hymnal that he handed to her. He took the other one in the back of the pew.

“I’m not always like this,” she felt compelled to add.

“I know.”

“Do you?” She lowered her voice, aware that one or two heads turned to give her a look. She didn’t wait for his answer, instead she joined the singing, not wanting to disrupt the service.

The music seemed to be God’s way of drawing her close to Him. It’d always been this way. Even as a child she would make excuses to ride her bike on Sunday morning so she could sit outside the neighborhood church and listen to the congregation sing. She never went in. Her father wouldn’t allow that. He hadn’t been a believer, so no one else had been allowed to believe.

The music touched the dark, hurting places in ways that sometimes the words of a sermon couldn’t. Even now, the music chased away the memories that had started to drag her down. It lightened her soul with words of hope and promise.

The sermon seemed directly related to the last of the hymns, focusing on new beginnings. She closed her eyes at the final words, that new beginnings sometimes required multiple tries. You might have to start again, but as long as you kept moving forward, there was hope.

His mercies are new every morning.

The congregation stood for a closing prayer and then headed toward the fellowship hall.

Again Max walked next to her, his hand on her back, guiding her through the crowd. She didn’t need him guarding her. True, he was tall and broad-shouldered, an able bodyguard.

But she knew how to take care of herself. It was safer than relying on someone who might not be there when needed. Or someone who might let you down. She had rescued herself from the nightmare of her parents’ divorce. She’d rescued herself from her captors in Afghanistan, managing to overpower a guard as American forces fought to enter the compound.

Yet here she was, allowing Max St. James to lead her through the sea of people, as if he were her Moses, parting the Red Sea for her to get safely to the other side.

“I know you can do this yourself,” he murmured very close to her ear. As if he’d heard her thoughts.

“Of course I can.”

She kept walking and realized that not once did she feel the dark edges of panic. His hand was on her elbow. He was strong. His presence was real. It was solid. He smelled good, too. Something expensive, with a touch of citrus and mountain air.

People spoke to them as they walked, as if no one noticed anything unusual about the two of them. Or so she thought. As they entered the fellowship hall, she spotted the people who would have questions. Kylie West, once the therapist at Mercy Ranch, and a wounded warrior herself, spotted Sierra and her eyes narrowed. Isaac West, Kylie’s brother-in-law, had a more amused expression. And then there was Melody St. James and others that Sierra assumed were Max’s family.

The two of them entering this room together was creating a firestorm of speculation. Not something she wanted.

She pulled away from him.

He released her. “You’re okay?”

“I am.” She meant to say it with a touch of rebuke but it came out softer, as if she were reassuring him. She let it go. “Thank you, for back there. For bailing me out.”

“Anytime.”

Then he left her and joined his family. An older woman greeted him with a hug, making him bend down so she could kiss his cheek. Sierra guessed her to be Nonni. She was a small woman in a floral dress, with graying dark hair pulled up in a bun. After kissing his cheek, she began to talk, gesturing rapidly with her hands. Melody laughed and gave her grandmother a hug. His parents, whom Sierra had met during initial wedding planning, gave Max hugs. His was a close family.

“Are you going to join us?” Kylie appeared at Sierra’s side.

“What?” Sierra pulled her attention away from Max and his family.

Her friend’s gaze trailed to the St. James family and returned to study Sierra.

“They’re lovely people,” Kylie said. “I’m glad they were able to buy back the ranch they sold. This was their home for a long time.”

“Yes, it’s good they were able to get it back.” Sierra clasped her hands together, trying to appear excited. “Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

Kylie raised a brow at her enthusiasm. “I’m not buying it, Sierra.”

“Oh, come on, you know I love big, festive events.”

They both laughed. The laughter shook loose some of the darker emotions she’d been feeling the past hour and a half. It felt good to have lighter emotions rising to the surface.

“Of course you do.” Kylie drew her toward the kitchen. “I thought you could serve desserts. Keep them cut, on plates, ready to be picked up by the guests.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“It is easy. You’ll get to socialize a little, serve dessert and have fun.”

Sierra gave an exaggerated shudder. “Socializing and having fun. Two of my favorite activities.”

Kylie showed her all the cakes and pies, the table she would stand at, the plates and cutlery stacked up on the side. And then she looked past Sierra’s right shoulder and smiled a little too brightly.

“Here’s your helper now!” Kylie exclaimed.

“Helper?”

Warning bells went off in Sierra’s head. She looked up from the cake she’d been about to cut, expecting Max St. James. But she was wrong. It was his grandmother.

“Nonni, I’m so glad you can help us.” Kylie gave the older woman a hug.

“I’m glad to help. I have so many fond memories of these church dinners.” Nonni extended the smile to include Sierra. “And you, the wedding planner, I’m so glad we can finally meet. Melody talks of you constantly.”

“I’m not sure why!” Sierra said.

Max’s grandmother smiled big. “Because you say what you think.”

Sierra felt a rush of warmth slide up her neck. “Oh, there is that.”

Nonni patted her arm in a motherly way. “We would like for you to join us, working on the honeymoon quilt. And, also, if we could talk about food. Maybe we can add a few traditional dishes to her reception dinner. I don’t want to take over.”

“Nonni, don’t tell fibs.” The deep voice came from behind Sierra. “You always want to take over. They say it’s where I got my type A personality.”

Nonni’s forest green eyes sparkled with joy. “Max, you’re going to help us serve dessert?”

“No, I don’t think so.” He moved to his grandmother’s side, smiling at Sierra as he placed a protective arm around his grandmother’s shoulders. “I have things to do.”

“Watching football isn’t a thing to do,” Nonni warned. “We’re serving dinner today. You can miss the game just once. You and your father. You can help with dessert. Your father can help with cleanup.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Max countered.

“Oh, I am sure.” Nonni smiled brightly and the battle was won.

It happened that quickly. One minute Sierra and Nonni were working the dessert table and Sierra thought it might be fun to get to know this older woman. And the next minute Max became a part of the equation.

Sierra had been backed into a corner. The only upside to the situation? The sweat on Max’s forehead as he realized he’d been outmaneuvered by his grandmother.

Nonni had a way of making him feel trapped. He loved her and would do anything for her. Which was the reason he stayed to help serve up cake and pie. He stayed, knowing she had something up her matchmaking sleeve.

Not something. Someone. Specifically, Sierra Lawson. She obviously didn’t see why this project had failure written all over it. He wasn’t interested. And neither was Sierra.

In his mind, a matchmaker only worked when a person wanted or needed help finding love. His grandmother, on the other hand, liked a challenge. She seemed willing to try matching the two most unwilling subjects.

Fortunately for him, he had experience dealing with Nonni. Sierra had been taken by surprise. A sneak attack by his grandmother. She’d adjusted quickly, though, and was now listening intently as his grandmother talked about food and recipes.

His grandmother pointed to her kilecheh. “These are our Christmas cookies,” Nonni told her. “The rolled pastry is filled with dates, the other is filled with nuts, sugar and cardamom. They’re very good. Try one.”

“I shouldn’t.” Sierra held a hand up to protest but Nonni stuck a pastry in that protesting hand.

“No, you should. They have no calories at Christmastime.” Nonni laughed at her joke. “These are my grandson’s favorites.”

He reached for one as Nonni watched, waiting for Sierra’s response.

“They’re very good. Is that a yeast dough?” Sierra asked after finishing the small date-filled pastry.

“It is.” His grandmother glowed as she began to tell the younger woman all about her kilecheh.

His grandmother loved sharing traditions and loved a willing listener even more.

Sierra asked questions in her serious way. She wasn’t a person who gave false compliments, he realized. She seemed very detail-oriented, matter-of-fact in her questioning. He guessed this to be the reason Jack West had given her the job of running the Stable. She also baked. He knew this because Melody had shown him photos of the wedding cakes, going on and on about how amazing and beautiful they were.

He’d half listened because at the time he hadn’t met Sierra. He hadn’t known she had hazel eyes, auburn hair and a way of avoiding eye contact when she was uncomfortable. She also had a way of smiling that took a man by surprise.

At that moment she bestowed one of those rare smiles on his grandmother. Nonni beamed and issued another invitation besides helping with the honeymoon quilt. She would love for Sierra to help her bake pastries and cookies for Christmas. It was a large undertaking. Each year his grandmother baked for several days then she would take the baked goods to her old church in Tulsa, to other Assyrians.

His grandmother had a big heart. She loved to nurture. He could see the gleam in her eye. She’d found a likely candidate for all of that nurturing.

Fortunately people started to arrive. His grandmother and Sierra worked side by side, serving cake, cupcakes and pies. As people came up to their table, his grandmother hugged them and doled out compliments and encouragement. Sierra took the role as the quiet one, working to keep the sweet treats flowing.

“Max, we need another cake. Hurry, hurry, slice it up and bring it over.” Nonni issued the order without looking.

He turned and nearly tripped over a small child. He recognized her immediately. “Linnie, how are you?”

The little girl with the tangled blond hair now had her curls in a ponytail. She wore a blue dress and tennis shoes. Her eyes flashed with recognition and she gave him a slight smile, but then she started searching for her mother.

“Linnie, there you are.” A harried-looking young woman with a baby on her hip, and leading a child a little younger than Linnie, approached.

“You must be Linnie’s mom. I’m Max St. James.”

Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. “Oh, Mr. St. James, I’m so sorry she’s bothering you. I’ve been meaning to thank you for helping us find her.”

“I’m not really the one who found her...” He hesitated. “Miss—”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Patsy Jay.” She took his hand in a hearty handshake. “I’m so glad to meet you. And I’m so thankful for what you did to help find my daughter.”

“Allow me to introduce you to Sierra Lawson. She’s the one who actually found Linnie.”

He pointed her toward the dessert table and Sierra. Linnie had already spotted her and he watched as Sierra squatted so that she could be eye to eye with the child.

“Hey, Linnie! Imagine seeing you here!” Sierra gave the little girl a warm smile.

Linnie flung her thin arms around Sierra’s neck.

“I got in trouble,” she told Sierra.

Patsy Jay stepped close to her daughter. “She doesn’t usually take to strangers. It’s been hard for us since...” Patsy shook her head. “Since the accident. I’m going to nursing school. I’m gone a lot, working and attending classes. My mom watches these three. It’s a lot.” Her cheeks burned scarlet. “I’m sorry. You didn’t need to hear all of that.”

Sierra stood and he noticed that Linnie had hold of her hand. “Patsy, you don’t have to apologize for doing your best for your family.”

Patsy teared up. “Thank you so much. And I wanted to invite you and Mr. St. James to my house for dinner. I live in trailer 12 at the Cardinal Roost. I don’t have a lot but I’d like to do something for the two of you.”

“Oh, I...” Sierra glanced down at the little hand holding hers.

Patsy bit down on her bottom lip. “I understand if you can’t make it.”

“Of course we can,” Max responded. “When?”

“Thursday at six?” Patsy’s hand rested on her daughter’s shoulder. “We would like that, wouldn’t we, Linnie?”

The little girl nodded.

Sierra handed Linnie a piece of chocolate cake on a small paper plate. “We would love to come to dinner.”

The word we took Max by surprise. No doubt she didn’t mean to make it seem as if they were a couple. They were barely acquaintances. Furthermore, he hadn’t been part of a we in years. He had a habit of letting women down and he guessed that Sierra had been let down by too many people in her life.

Their gazes connected and he knew that her thoughts had taken the same path as his. If they allowed people to connect them as a couple, things would spiral out of control.

That was the last thing either of them needed, and the one thing Sierra didn’t need was to be another person he let down.