Читать книгу Lone Star Holiday - Jolene Navarro - Страница 12

Chapter Four

John turned the key and shut the engine off. Sitting in the silence, he watched the full moon reflect over the river below. Rachel had fallen asleep on the way home, her leg now in a black stabilizer from ankle to the top of her thigh. In a few days when the swelling went down, he’d have to take her back for the cast. Her apologies had run nonstop. Several times, he reassured her it would be fine, but his preteen seemed to pick up his doubts.

All the problems bounced around his brain. With his eyes closed, he pressed his forehead against the cracked steering wheel.

“God, I know worry is a sin. Please show me how I can be the pastor people need and the father my girls deserve.”

The to-do list started clicking off in his head. The youth building still needed funds, his house sat gutted and Dub needed help with the ranch. The big annual Christmas pageant loomed around the corner, with no one to direct it. He sighed. Now Rachel required extra help, and his babysitter, Amy, was out while she recovered.

Deep in thought, he jumped when a hand pounded on his window. He opened the door, but before he could move, Celeste had climbed into his lap. Her small hands framed his face.

“Hello, Daddy.”

He smiled and covered her precious fingers with his hands. “Hey, monkey. How are you?” He turned to Lorrie Ann, Celeste’s late-night escort, and grinned. Was it only this morning they’d first met? “Did she cause you any problems?”

She shook her head. “No, we had fun.”

“Daddy, I was good, and Miss Lorrie Ann let me use a knife.”

He shot a heated glare to the woman who had kept creeping into his mind all day. “You let a five-year-old use a knife?”

“No, no, it was a plastic knife. You know, the small picnic ones.”

“Daddy, I’m six now. I turned six at the football game. I could cut my own grapes.” She rested her head on his shoulder, facing her sister. “What’s wrong with her leg?”

“It’s broken. I need to get her into the house.”

“Come here, rug rat. Let your dad out of the truck, and we can get you all settled in the cabin.”

His daughter giggled as she reached for Lorrie Ann’s hand.

“She calls me rug rat, Daddy, because they’re cute, real smart and are always moving around.” She swung her arm back and forth. “Right, Miss Lorrie Ann?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lorrie Ann brought her face back to his. “Aunt Maggie sent some dinner over.” With her free hand, she lifted a foil-covered plate.

Celeste led Lorrie Ann toward the porch. The security light automatically flooded the area as they reached the steps.

“It’s unlocked.” They went inside as he made his way around the truck feeling much older than his thirty-one years.

He opened the passenger door and slipped his arms under Rachel. Careful of her leg, he pulled her to him. She was eleven now. For a moment, he pulled her closer and closed his eyes. When was the last time he had carried her from the car? So many moments in life just slipped past without thought or fanfare.

Headlights came up the driveway and parked behind his truck. His head slumped for a minute as he hoped it was not some concerned member of his congregation, but then he prayed for forgiveness and patience.

“Are our girls all right?”

Relief relaxed his shoulders as his father-in-law’s baritone voice came from the dark. He should have known a phone call wouldn’t be enough.

“Hey, Dub. Celeste doesn’t have a scratch on her. Rachel has a broken leg. Amy has the most injuries, with a broken collarbone and concussion. They kept her overnight.”

“Daddy?” Rachel’s head lifted.

“Hey, sweetheart, we’re home. And look, Grandpa’s here.”

“Hi, Grandpa.” Her head went back to his chest.

Dub followed, carrying the silver crutches and closing all the doors behind them.

John scanned the open living room and kitchen area. He grimaced at the shoes, books and crayons scattered on the area rug. The kitchen had a stack of dirty dishes in the sink, and it looked as if the girls had been making sandwiches before they left for town.

“Grandpa!” Celeste flew down the wrought-iron spiral staircase.

“Celeste Rebecca Levi, slow down.” She froze midstride, and he noticed Lorrie Ann’s eyes go wide. He must have managed to use his best angry-dad voice. Somewhere in the past couple hours, he’d switched to autopilot. He felt empty. He eased Rachel to one side of the large L-shaped sofa and moved a cushion under her leg.

“Sorry, Daddy. I wanted to show Miss Lorrie Ann my room.” With a hand on the railing, she took one slow step down. Dub went to the stairs and picked her up, swinging her above his head.

“Higher, Grandpa, higher!” Her laughter filled the cabin.

“Dub, you’re not helping.” John went to the kitchen to retrieve a bag of frozen peas.

“Humph.” He pulled his granddaughter close and tickled her before he looked up at Lorrie Ann. “Hello, I’m Dub Childress.” Celeste wrapped herself around his barrel chest and pushed his gray felt hat back, kissing his cheek.

“Grandpa, this is Miss Lorrie Ann. She’s my new friend. She let me cut my own grapes.”

“Maggie and Billy’s girl? I remember you. Weren’t you a few grades behind Carol?”

“Yes, sir. Carol Childress? Oh, she... I’m sorry.”

John watched as awareness then pity filled her gray eyes. He knew what would come next. On cue, she became awkward as she looked around the room, moving to the double glass doors.

“This is not what I expected when I heard they had added cabins to the farm. It’s beautiful and comfortable.” She ran her fingers along the rock edge of the fireplace, stopping in front of the family picture he had on the mantel. She quickly turned.

“I thought they were summer rentals. I didn’t know they had them rented for living.”

“Maggie was nice enough to take us in when we had nowhere to go.” John adjusted the frozen bag on Rachel’s leg. “Dub gave us the old homestead to live in, but it needed to be gutted and made livable, so we are here until I can get that finished.”

Lorrie Ann hurried past him. “Oh, Maggie said to make sure you ate dinner.”

In the kitchen, she started making beeping noises with the microwave.

He’d grown accustomed to women trying to feed him, but it was a first for one to take over his kitchen.

“You don’t need to heat that up for me.”

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Well, then, you’re getting a warm meal. I promised Aunt Maggie.”

Dub chuckled and John shot him a glare. Dub’s bushy gray brows shot up but he remained silent.

Celeste’s head jerked and her eyes popped open.

“Thank you for taking care of Celeste.” John watched his baby girl fight sleep and smiled.

Dub stood. “She can be a handful. That’s for sure.” With those words, he laid Celeste in the wingback chair. “Well, I just wanted to see the little bits and make sure they were okay.” He moved to the entryway and paused. “If you need anything, John, call me. I’m heading to Houston tomorrow, but I can cancel.”

“Dub, go on to Houston. We’re fine.” He pushed Rachel’s hair back from her face.

“Nice seeing you again, Mr. Childress.” Lorrie Ann had moved to the sink and started running water.

“Please call me Dub. And welcome back. I know your aunt must sure be happy.”

“Lorrie Ann, you’re not washing the dishes.” John tried to make his voice sound firm.

“Um...yes, I am.”

Dub chuckled again and headed out the door.

“Really, Lorrie Ann, you don’t have to do the dishes.”

The microwave went off, and she turned to get the food out. Setting the plate on the counter, she dug around for some silverware.

“The girls are asleep. Come eat or Aunt Maggie will get mad at both of us.”

He sat and attempted to give her a smile, but it felt more like a halfhearted contortion.

“Anything else I can do for you tonight?” She looked around the small kitchen.

“No, we’re good, and you can report back that I ate.” He saluted her with his fork before taking a bite.

After a few more mouthfuls, he set the fork down and made sure he had solid eye contact with Lorrie Ann before saying anything else. “Again, I want to thank you for keeping Celeste. She can be a bit high-strung, and some people find her energy level overwhelming.”

“I deal with musicians and agents on a daily basis. Handling high energy and mood swings is my specialty.”

Her sweet smile was at odds with the image he had of a music-industry insider from California. As she walked out of the cabin, John followed her. “You must be exhausted driving in from California today. Have you spoken to your mother yet?”

She stopped at the steps with her hand on the railing, turning back to him. “My mother? How do you know Sonia? I haven’t heard from her in over three years.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know what to say. Sonia had wanted to be sure of her sobriety before talking to Lorrie Ann. She should have contacted her by now. If she hadn’t, he had just opened a nasty can of night crawlers. “She visits Maggie.”

Lorrie Ann’s eyes went wide. “Really? Do you know where she’s living?”

“Have you asked Maggie?” He needed to talk to Maggie and find out what was going on. He had promised Sonia to keep their talks private. Did that include her daughter? He knew she struggled with guilt over her past with Lorrie Ann, and guilt did weird things to people, led to bad decisions. Was she still avoiding Lorrie Ann?

“I’ll do that.” She paused for a minute, her lips tight. Glancing down, she broke eye contact.

John waited, and when she brought her gaze back to his, she smiled and whispered, “Good night, Pastor Levi.”

“Please, call me John.”

He watched as she made her way back to the ranch house. An unfamiliar loss at her departure settled softly in his chest.

He wanted to spend more time with her, hear her laughter and watch her smile. He shook his head and turned back to the cabin.

It had been thirteen years since he had asked someone out on a date, and he had ended up married to her.

He stopped. Where had that thought come from? Unwanted memories surfaced, and John closed and locked the door, both physically and mentally. Even contemplating a relationship with Lorrie Ann needed to stop.

He felt confident in his work for God and tried hard to be a good father, but he had made a lousy husband. He wished he could close the door on the hurt in Carol’s eyes as he locked the door behind Lorrie Ann.

His wife had deserved a better husband, but by the time he’d realized that, it had been too late.