Читать книгу A Texas Ranger's Family - Mae Nunn - Страница 10

Sunday morning in Texas was nothing like Erin remembered and everything she’d once imagined it could be.

The chatter that echoed in the kitchen was contentious but good-natured. The dialogue between grandparent and grandchild was one disagreement after another with Daniel acting as mediator. But the dichotomy in the conversation never once escalated into the bitter shouts or harsh threats that accompanied dissent in her family experiences.

As with the meal the night before, breakfast around the pedestal-style oak table was a learning experience for Erin while it seemed like a social event for the others. Conversation stayed clear of the elephant in the room. She blessed Daniel, yet again, for obviously having reminded LaVerne and Dana against pressing for details that weren’t offered voluntarily.

But Dana deserved to know something, didn’t she? Where to start?

“These potato pancakes are a first for me,” Erin mumbled over a mouthful of the tasty breakfast.

Dana’s fork hovered between her plate and her mouth.

“Nobody ever fixed this at your house?”

Erin busied herself managing a fork in her left fist while she considered how much Dana could handle. There was no doubt the girl had been shortchanged without a mother, but on the other hand, Daniel had provided a pretty sweet deal. Their two-story brick home shaded by hundred-year-old pecan trees was in an affluent Houston neighborhood. Since Daniel had brought Dana up in church, it was Erin’s fair guess that he also ensured a quality after-school environment. If nothing else the teenager’s appearance was evidence she was respected and given free choice in personal areas so critical to one her age.

How could Dana possibly relate to growing up in a home where constant danger and uncertainty prevailed? Best to withhold that insight.

“Nope,” Erin answered the question. “I grew up in a cold cereal kind of house.”

Daniel sipped coffee, squinting at her above the rim of his oversized cup. The message of his stare would be more revealing on film, but for now it appeared a cross between censorship and curiosity. It was hard to recall how little she’d told him during their brief marriage, but Erin was certain she hadn’t shared much prior to the string of foster homes.

“If you think this is good, wait till you have Daddy’s pork spareribs. He cooks them all day and uses molasses in the barbecue sauce.”

“Don’t be giving away all my secrets,” Daniel teased, turning his eyes and attention on Dana.

“And there’s nothing like Grandma Verne’s butt cake.” Dana was clearly impressed with whatever deserved that description.

“Excuse me?” Erin asked for details.

“It’s really Boston cream pie,” LaVerne admitted with a proud smile. “But it’s so loaded with calories that it goes straight to your backside. Hence the nickname given by my daughter-in-law who lives on the ranch.”

“Tell me about this ranch.” Erin kept their attention diverted from herself.

“Oh, puuuleeeeease…” Dana groaned.

“There will be plenty of time for that conversation. Right now, we’ve gotta get going or we’ll be late for church. Mama, would you please help Dana with Erin’s needs while I clean up in here?” Daniel instructed. “I’ll have the truck running and the AC on high for you ladies in thirty minutes.”

Daniel glanced frequently into the rearview mirror, keeping an eye on his backseat where Dana gave Erin the lowdown on Abundant Harvest. He lifted up a silent prayer of gratitude for his daughter’s excitement over their church community. The contemporary sanctuary doubled as a gym where it was a safe haven for hundreds of teens who gathered there on weeknights. Dana served with the youth’s music ministry, where she’d become interested in the technical ins and outs of live worship. Of course, it didn’t hurt that the high school praise band was one of the hottest in the state. Whatever the reason, it was comforting to know where his kid and her friends were hanging out on nights when she was free to socialize.

“There’s a special place reserved for visitors.” Dana pointed toward the front of the sanctuary.

“No, thanks.” Erin’s response was resolute.

She’d been cooperative so far, but Daniel wasn’t surprised when Erin declined the front-and-center spot. Clearly, her comfort was in being the observer, not the observed.

As always, the morning’s worship and praise was lively. The pastor’s teaching on guarding your heart was relevant to the point of being worrisome. And the newcomer welcome after the service was warm and inviting. Daniel was grateful for his years of friendship and counseling with Pastor Ken, so there was little need to explain the sudden appearance of Erin Gray in their lives.

“I’ve been praying for your recovery since the day Daniel got word of your injuries.” Ken Allen had pulled a chair up and sat knee to knee with Erin and held her left hand as he spoke. “But I never imagined you’d be here with us today. God is awesome to bless us with a visit by someone with your talent.”

“Thank you.” Erin ducked her head, evidently touched by the pastor’s words.

“I know it’s a bit soon, but would you consider speaking to our graduates before they head off to college? Just let me know when you’re up to it and I’ll arrange everything.”

Erin’s eyes sought Daniel’s. If she expected him to intervene, she was out of luck.

“Oh, I don’t know, Pastor.” She slipped her hand from his and ran unadorned fingertips through her hair. “My skills are all self-taught and I don’t have any speaking experience at all.”

“Even better,” Ken encouraged. “These kids don’t want a presentation. They just need to hear you talk about your relationship with God and your passion for your work.”

“Well, if that’s all you have in mind, I guess I could do it in a few weeks when I’m back on my feet.”

“Perfect.” Ken rubbed his palms together. “We’ll see you again next weekend.” He stood and clasped hands with Daniel. “I’ll be in touch soon, my friend.”

“Pastor?” Erin called as Ken was about to greet another visitor.

“Yes, ma’am?” He turned back to her.

“How is it that you know I have a relationship with God?”

“Are you serious?” The light in Ken’s eyes was like a gift he wanted to share. “Your work speaks volumes about you. Nobody could capture the Creator’s touch like that without knowing Him personally.”

Sunday afternoon was peaceful enough. After a light meal each person moved to a private space. Erin’s quiet quarters were disturbed only by the half hour chimes of a mantle clock. Even so, she knew it was a temporary calm. She was experiencing the eye of hurricane Stabler. By Monday morning the gale force would appear again as life in the household resumed full speed with their patient at the center of the whirlwind.

Having others care for her physical needs was a humbling experience. Erin was certain she didn’t deserve and could never repay Daniel’s kindness. He’d said she was there for Dana’s sake, but Erin had no idea where to start or how to meet the raw need sometimes revealed in Dana’s eyes.

What she could do, however, was recuperate in record time and return to her own lifestyle so Daniel could do the same.

That recuperation started with a private therapist who would visit each morning to focus on strengthening Erin’s back and rehabilitating her right arm. It had been nearly severed three inches above the elbow, but the military physicians in Iraq had more than their fair share of experience with the delicate microsurgery. They’d reattached bone, reconnected nerves and restored blood flow. Erin could twitch her fingers but there was no sensation in them, only numbness. If the feeling never returned, as she’d been warned may happen, how would the loss of sensitivity impact her abilities?

There was only one way to find out and that was to handle her Nikon as soon as she got the green light to exert her arm beyond the blob of putty she was supposed to squeeze constantly.

The cell phone trilled on the bed beside her.

“What’s up, boss?” J.D. was the likely caller.

“Wow! Not only a cheerful but a quick answer.” He poked fun at her reputation for being on the go with no time to talk.

“And why does that surprise you?”

“Because the number of times I haven’t had to leave a voice mail and wait seventy-two hours for you to return my call can be counted on three fingers.”

“I have a few more hours on my hands these days since I’m not exactly tied up.” She glanced at the IV tube that had her tethered to an aluminum pole. “Strike that. I’m definitely tied up, just not with assignments. But I was thinking about that just a few minutes ago and—”

“Erin,” J.D. interrupted, his voice losing its humorous note. “Give it a rest, will ya? There will be plenty of war, pestilence and famine when you’ve recovered enough to come back. Meanwhile, try to appreciate having this downtime. Read good books, watch chick flicks. Just appreciate the fact that you’re alive.”

“I know, I know. And I’m grateful that I’m just in a bed and not a pine box. But my work is my reason to get up in the morning, J.D.”

“Well, maybe it’s time you found a new purpose. Kid, I love the bureau, but Mary Ellen and our boys are what I live for. You’re a young woman with plenty of reasons to get out from behind the camera and focus on real life, no pun intended. You need to get to know that beautiful daughter while she still has time for you. Trust me, in a few more years, you’ll have to make an appointment to see her.”

“Thanks for the advice, Grandpa Walton. Can I ask a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Will you ship me some equipment?”

“I’ll put that on my To Do list. But the reason I called is to let you know I’m heading for the West Coast tomorrow morning. I scheduled a stopover in Houston just long enough to drop a few things off.”

Erin felt a shiver in the sunny room. J.D. was going to fly several hours, rent a car and navigate the crazy Houston interstates for a brief visit. There had to be more to it then he was willing to say on the phone. This must be something he has to do in person.

“I hate to see you go to so much trouble,” she tried to dissuade him.

“The itinerary is all set, so don’t try to talk me out of it. I have the address and I’ll be there by three o’clock.”

Yep, the man’s on a mission. She prayed it was from God and not Corporate.

Daniel relaxed in his home office on the back side of the second floor, directly above the sun porch. He’d installed an upstairs ringer for the doorbell so he wouldn’t miss package deliveries. When the front bell chimed, he glanced up from his discipleship study to the time flashing in the corner of his computer monitor. It was Sunday afternoon and he wasn’t expecting anyone.

Must be for Dana.

The bell rang a second time.

“I’ve got it,” he called. Three steps from the bottom of the staircase he saw the visitor through the arched window in the door. Candace Dickerson. The curvy blonde was beyond neighborly, she was downright available.

But in a nice Southern girl way.

Candace was unmarried, educated, produced cooking shows for the local cable station and attended Abundant Harvest. She was everything a red-blooded man in his late thirties would be looking for in a woman and mother for his child. But Daniel wasn’t looking. He was content to raise Dana by himself, never dating or accepting invitations to singles’ social events. His unattached status suited his daughter just fine and he preferred to keep it that way.

But nothing stopped Candace from trying.

“Hey, Daniel!” She gave his waist a squeeze with one arm and kissed the air near his face as only a proper Texas gal can. “Your sweet mama said you’d be bringin’ company home and I thought I’d drop off a fresh batch of my homemade pecan pralines.”

“Did I hear ‘pralines’?” Dana called as she hurried down the stairs. The two women hugged and his daughter helped herself to the tin of gooey confections.

“Interesting you heard the mention of candy but you didn’t hear the doorbell.” Daniel was actually grateful for Dana’s arrival. His daughter’s presence would keep everything family-friendly.

“Come on out to the porch and meet Erin.” Dana led the way.

“Why sure,” Candace agreed, looking to Daniel who offered no explanation. She fell into step behind Dana.

Trepidation gripped Daniel anew each time he remembered Erin was in his home, in their lives. She’d gotten comfortable in the rattan chaise near the windows. Her hair was backlit by the setting summer sun casting a rosy halo around her tanned face. She wore some of the loose-fitting gray scrubs Walter Reed tailored to accommodate the physical limitations of their soldiers. They were functional but ugly.

LaVerne relaxed on the matching love seat and something the two just shared had them smiling. Since his mama was prone to telling stories from his days as a boy on the ranch, Daniel had good reason to suspect their amusement was at his expense.

His neighbor passed through the French doors to the sun porch as Dana made the introductions. “Grandma Verne, you already know Candace, right?”

“Yes, hello again,” LaVerne greeted the newcomer.

“Nice to see you, Mrs. Stabler.” Candace addressed his mama but her eyes immediately settled on the stranger in the room.

Dana offered her grandmother the open tin, then perched on the edge of the chaise. “And Candace, this is my mother, Erin Gray. You’ve probably heard of her, because she’s a famous photographer.”

Erin lowered her chin and closed her eyes for a brief moment. Then she turned a smile of embarrassment toward Candace. “It’s nice to meet you, and please excuse Dana’s exaggeration. She will be less inclined to brag on me once she figures out most people have no idea who I am.”

“They may not know you by name, but you’re fooling yourself if you think people don’t recognize your work,” Daniel insisted.

He reached toward a stack of National Geographic magazines, took one from the top and flipped it to a dog-eared page.

“I read where they receive over a million submissions every year. This one made the editor’s top pick and then went on to be selected for a global refugee campaign.” He was proud of Erin’s accomplishments but couldn’t help wondering if her accolades could ever make up for their losses. The personal cost of her success had been high for all of them, especially Dana. Daniel’s years of praying for the grace to forgive Erin had never been fully fruitful. Constant reminders of their splintered family made it impossible not to know moments of anger, days of regret.

He pushed aside his selfish thoughts and handed the magazine to Candace. Her gaze softened as it brushed the face of an orphan in Darfur. The toddler stood amid the horrifying evidence of genocide.

“Of course I’ve seen this. How could anyone forget those eyes and that tiny child clinging to her family?” Candace placed the pages in Dana’s waiting hand, and then it was her turn to duck her head. “That sure shines a light on the triviality of my cookin’ shows.”

“Please don’t take it that way,” Erin insisted. “Your reaction is exactly why I don’t like a personal fuss over what I do. People start making comparisons and end up feeling bad instead of being moved to act, which is the point of my work. That picture is just one example of the tragedies I’ve witnessed in this world. Most folks can never understand loss and abandonment unless they’re confronted with it face-to-face.”

Dana stood, tossed the magazine to the bed and moved toward the door. “You’d be surprised how much some of us can get our heads around loss and abandonment.”