Читать книгу Yuletide Cowboy - Debra Clopton - Страница 11

The morning after Chance had flustered her by telling her she smelled sweet, Lynn dreamed about him! Oh yeah, but thankfully she was awakened from dreaming about the hunky, dark-haired bachelor by her horse of a dog, Tiny. Her unlikely hero bounded onto her bed and pounced on her with all four of his huge paws! The power of the attack knocked the wind and the dream right out of her.

“Thank you,” she gasped, trying to get her breath back as she stared into Tiny’s pale face. His excited are-you-ready-to-play eyes danced as he gaped at her. She relaxed, relieved to be awake…it wasn’t unusual for her to have nightmares. Though they had slowly become less frequent and they were always about her ex-husband…Dreaming about Chance Turner was disturbing on an entirely different level. Thank goodness for Tiny.

“What are you doing in the house?” she asked, making certain not to scold. The boys sometimes tried to sneak the giant animal into the house, or when they went out side they forgot to close the door and Tiny would sneak into the house by himself. On those occasions there was never any telling what he was going to get into. And if you scolded him he tended to leave puddles—and that wasn’t a good thing.

The sound of erratic hammering filled the air outside her window. She glanced at the bedside clock—seven o’clock. Tiny danced on top of her, tail wagging, breath huffing, eyes twinkling, he barked excitedly and looked toward the window.

“Okay, okay. I get it.” Gently pushing the oversize pup off her, she padded to the window and pulled aside the curtain.

Before going to help decorate for the auction—and getting attacked by her friends—she had worked a full day at the candy store. Her boys had spent the day at Amanda Turner’s place. Amanda couldn’t have children of her own and since marrying Chance’s cousin, Wyatt, she often enjoyed having Gavin and Jack over to play when Lynn needed a babysitter. She and Wyatt were in the process of trying to adopt, and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that any baby would be blessed to have her and Wyatt as parents.

Just after Lynn had told everyone that she was not bid ding on a bachelor, Amanda and her two sisters-in-law, Susan and Melody, had arrived with the kids.

Melody had asked about the lights and the boys had immediately told everyone about how they’d caused Chance to fall and dump the lights all over himself. Everyone got a good laugh and she’d seen the spark of excitement burn brighter in the three matchmaking buddies’ mischievous eyes. That was all it had taken for them to be off and running with stories about Chance when he was growing up—Chance Turner had been a handful. Of course, her boys had jumped right into the fray, giggling at stories of the things Chance and his cousins had gotten into.

She had also been informed by Melody that the Christmas lights he’d brought up to the church were for her, and that they were to be used to decorate her new house. Lynn had been touched by the gift and told Melody so. All their questions about Chance and what she thought of him had taken her by surprise and left her suspicious. Mule Hollow was known for its matchmaking, after all.

She and the boys had been late getting home and they’d all been tired. The last thing she expected to see when she looked out the window this morning was Gavin and Jack outside attacking the large oak tree in the backyard with hammers.

“What are they doing?” she asked, looking down at Tiny.

The dog placed his paws on the windowsill and whined as he studied them. His tail wagged impatiently, signaling that he wanted to be out there with his boys. “Come on, let’s go.” That was all it took. The dog shot out of her bedroom like a flash. Lynn grabbed her housecoat off the bed as she passed. It was chilly in the house and she stopped to turn the thermostat up a notch or two. She put on her leather slides beside the back door, which was cracked open but not enough for the dog to escape. Lynn guessed that he’d snuck inside when the boys left it ajar and then the draft must have sucked it shut, trapping him.

Tiny wiggled with anticipation and the instant she pulled the door open he shot outside and was gone. Lynn agreed with him—life was never dull with Gavin and Jack around. She trailed him.

Jack had both hands wrapped around the middle of a hammer that was as long as his arm. Gavin held a twelve-inch piece of old barn wood against the tree. Both of them looked up at her as she approached. Tiny stuck his nose into the mix and Gavin pushed it away.

“What are you two little mischief makers doing?”

“Workin’, Mom,” Jack answered, slamming the head of the hammer at the nail protruding at an angle from the piece of wood. He missed.

“We’re gonna build a tree house.” Gavin nodded to ward the old shed at the back of the yard. “There’s a whole bunch of wood in there we can use.” His high-pitched voice was shrill with excitement.

Jack again whacked the nail, which bent over and smashed against the wood. She cringed—better the wood than his finger. His shoulders slumped and his face fell as he let the hammer drop to his side. He looked so dejected it was all Lynn could do not to scoop him up and hug him tight.

Gavin scrunched his brows together looking at him. “That’s okay, Jack. I didn’t do no better.”

Her little men, her heart tugged. “Building a tree house sounds like a great plan, guys. But let’s put the hammer up for now. It’s time to get ready for church. When we get home I’ll come out here and we’ll take a look at what’s in the shed and see what we can do.” Like she could actually build something! Who was she kidding?

“But you’re a girl, Momma.”

Oh, the challenge of it. “Yes, Jack, I am. But girls can build tree houses, too.” She was sure some girls could. Whether or not she could was yet to be seen.

“You sure?” Gavin asked, looking as skeptical as she felt.

“Yes, Gavin, I am. Now come inside and let’s get dressed for church.”

“Momma, I bet Chance can build a tree house.”

Not again. Her boys had been around Chance for only a short time and for some reason they were fascinated by everything about the man. “Gavin, I’ve already told you he’s Mr. Turner to both of you. And he probably is very good at building things,” she admitted as she opened the door for them. “Wipe your boots off.” They made extravagant swipes of their boots on the rug and then hurried off to their rooms. Tiny tried to follow but Lynn grabbed him. “Oh, no you don’t, buster.” She pulled him outside, patted his head and then firmly closed the door.

She walked to the sink and stared out the window at the tree with the board attached and the hammers leaning against it. Chance probably could build a tree house her boys would be proud of. The man looked like he could do anything. There was just something about him that gave off that vibe. She felt it, and that had to be what her boys were sensing even though they were too young to realize it.

“Mom! Jack won’t give me my shirt,” Gavin yelled from the back room.

“It’s my shirt,” Jack yelled back.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. Her boys got along for the most part, but brothers would be brothers…Pushing thoughts of Chance from her mind she went to see what was going on. She was so happy to have the small house of her own that even the sounds of her boys fussing made the place seem homey. It was wonderful to know that she was providing a roof over her sons’ heads in this peaceful ranching community.

The other women who had arrived with her in the van from L.A. were also moving on with their lives, slowly but surely, just like Esther Mae had said. Lynn had helped many of them in some way. Rose, the only mother with a teenage son, had been the first to move out of the shelter and had married not too long after that. Nive was still at the shelter, and so was Stacy, who was about to get married. All of them had come a long way since arriving here in Mule Hollow. And there were others after them who came, too. Some had used the facility as a temporary stopping point before finding a permanent shelter elsewhere, but for the original four Mule Hollow was now home. It was a great place to raise boys. The country life suited them and it suited Lynn, too. “It’s mine—”

“No. It’s mine—”

She found them having a tug-of-war over a blue shirt.

“Guys, what’s going on here?”

“It’s my shirt,” Jack said.

Gavin shook his head. “It’s mine.”

Lynn looked at the shirt. “You both have this same ex act shirt… Let’s take a look at them.” Getting dressed for church was not always an easy process. Raising boys was challenging, but she wouldn’t give it up for anything. Sometimes, though, she worried about the future and not having a man in their lives to help guide the boys. Should she start looking for a man to fill the blank spot their dad had left? The thought hit her at times like this. When things like the tree house cropped up. It made her feel guilty that she wasn’t ready.

The ladies pressuring her about the bachelor auction didn’t help either. They didn’t understand—how could they know how she felt when she’d never told them? All her life she’d lived in turmoil where men were concerned—until now.

No one knew exactly how bad her life had been prior to escaping to the shelter. She wanted it to stay that way, too. Hiding her emotions had worn her down, but for the first time in years she was living life contentedly.

With no man in the picture there was no danger. No broken trust, no risk of being hurt…it was easier. Safer.

Both physically and emotionally. It had taken the love and fear for her sons to drive her from the cycle of abuse. Knowing that if not for them she might still be there undermined her self-respect and scared her.

No. It was better this way. Better feeling strong and content that her boys were her life. They were safe and happy as they were. And no matter how guilty she might feel because they didn’t have a father in their lives, she wasn’t ready to change that, not even for them.

Church had started when Chance slid into the back pew. He felt awkward arriving late but he hadn’t planned on coming at all. At the last minute the Lord, or habit, had him heading to the church. Normally his church was a dusty or waterlogged arena prior to a competition’s start.

Miss Adela had been playing the piano for the Mule Hollow Church of Faith all of Chance’s life. She had just finished playing the welcoming hymn “When We All Get to Heaven” as he slipped into the pew beside Applegate.

“This back pew’s not the place fer you, Chance Turner,” App leaned in and whispered loudly.

So much for thinking he’d gotten his point across yesterday. “Good morning to you, too, App.”

Applegate hiked a bushy brow. “What’s good about it? We’re at church and the only preacher we’ve got is sittin’ in the back row with me.”

Several people turned at his words. Since App was hard of hearing and talked loud enough to be heard in the choir loft it was a wonder the entire congregation didn’t turn and look at him. Well, okay, so most of them did. Chance had known this would happen but here he was anyway. It was like the Lord wasn’t going to let him go even when He knew Chance was struggling. “App, sir,” he whispered, “now isn’t the time for me to be up there.”

App crossed his arms and grunted just as Brady Cannon stepped up to the podium. The sheriff taught the singles’ Sunday school class, and he and his wife, Dottie, had turned his ranch into a shelter for abused women. Chance respected them both very much. Dottie ran a candy store on Main Street where she taught the women how to run their own business. Being self-sufficient was a goal of the shelter along with helping the families overcome their abusive pasts.

Wyatt had told him that Lynn, the woman he’d met yesterday, had recently moved from the shelter into her own place with her two sons. He wondered about Lynn. He’d hated to hear she’d had a hard time in her life. How a man could hurt a woman was beyond him…but how he could vow before God to love and cherish her and then strike and abuse her was even more incomprehensible.

“As most of you know I’m a sheriff, not a preacher,” Brady began to speak. “I’m just the best you’ve got this morning. Or at least that’s what the elders tell me. I’m pretty certain there’s some of you out there who could do a much better job than me of preaching this morning. I hope whoever you are that you’ll step up and fill the need.”

App shot Chance a sharp look, and he felt eyes on him from everywhere else, too. Looking to the right he saw two small heads, one dark and one blond, turned his way. Gavin and Jack were barely able to see him over the back of the pew but they were watching him. Their mother sat beside them with her gaze focused straight ahead on Brady. When the boys saw Chance looking, the blonde raised his hand and waved. The dark-headed one followed suit. Lynn caught their movement out of the corner of her eye and automatically turned. Her midnight eyes locked with Chance’s and unexpectedly his mouth went dry and his pulse tripped all over itself, pounding erratically.

Something in that look hadn’t been there before. Some thing in the way her eyes blazed into his hadn’t seared into him like that yesterday. The moment lasted less than a second before she let her gaze drop to her boys, tapping them each on the head and telling them, with the swirl of her finger, to turn around. Less than a second but he was hung up…

App elbowed him. “Like I said yesterday, she don’t look at jest anybody like that. If you was in the pulpit you wouldn’t have ta be lookin’ at the back of her pretty head right now.”

The woman in front of him almost choked on her laughter as she tried to hide that she’d heard what App had said. Why hide it? Everyone would have heard him, but they were all listening intently to Brady. Chance knew there was no way they hadn’t heard App, but they were doing a good job not disturbing the service any more than it already had been.

“App, cut it out,” he growled.

Thankfully, App decided he’d said enough. He crossed his arms and stared straight ahead for the remainder of Brady’s lesson.

The sheriff did a good job over the next twenty minutes. His words were about being a good steward of the talents God had given each church member, something Chance had thought he was doing until Randy’s death.

Though Chance listened, his heart was closed off to any emotional response. It had been that way ever since Randy had fallen beneath the hooves of that bull and Chance had realized he probably wasn’t coming out alive. App could push all he wanted but Chance wasn’t up to being in that pulpit right now. And honestly, he wasn’t sure when or if he’d be ready. He felt as if a heavy horse blanket had been thrown around his heart, smothering out all the light.

Everyone kept saying he needed time. That was why he’d come home. Time could heal most everything.

Chance hoped it was true.

He’d given many a cowboy a similar sermon at different times of trial in their lives. Now he was seeing how much easier it was to spout the words when you were giving advice to someone else. It was different when you were the one in the midst of the storm.

He let his gaze slide toward Lynn once more. Something was bothering her, too. He saw it in her eyes just now, and it cut him to the core.