The Prodigal Returns

Twelve years ago, Lorrie Ann Ortega left the tiny town of Clear Water with stars in her eyes. Now she’s back home—trying to live right and put her mistakes in the past. Even so, she’ll never be the kind of woman who would make a good wife for the handsome widowed pastor, John Levi. But when she agrees to be nanny to his two sweet daughters, she’s thrown constantly in his path. And she can’t keep herself from dreaming that a man like John could one day love her. Can a prodigal daughter turn into a pastor’s wife?

“Are you lost?”

His deep Texas drawl washed over her. Lorrie Ann shook her head and searched for words.

“No, but I’m sure that depends on who you ask.” Raising her gaze, she flashed her best smile. In California it had never failed her.

Instead, he glanced off into the pasture, at the cows. “Is that your car up ahead?”

She sighed. Apparently, Texas cowboys were a completely different breed from the men she had been working with in Los Angeles.

“Yeah, I ran out of gas.”

“Anyone I can call for you?”

“No, no. Really, as soon as I get my phone, I’m good.”

He turned that devastating smile back on her. “How your phone ended up in a cow pasture is bound to be an interesting story.” He held his hand out to her, the fence still between them. “I’m John Levi.”

Lorrie Ann smiled back at him, a genuine smile this time. It felt good. The past couple years anything real had been hard to find.

JOLENE NAVARRO

Jolene’s life, much like her stories, is filled with faith, family, football, art, laughter, dirty dishes and all of life’s wonderful messiness. She knows that, as much as the world changes, people stay the same. Good and evil. Vow-keepers and heartbreakers. Jolene married a vow-keeper who showed her that holding hands and dancing in the rain never gets old. When she’s not teaching art to energetic middle-schoolers or hanging out with her four kids, she loves creating stories of love and faith in her much-loved Texas.

Lone Star Holiday

Jolene Navarro

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

—Matthew 11:28

To Granner, JoAnn Hutchinson,

for sharing her faith and love of writing.

For Katrina, Storm, Tate and Bridger, thank you

for all the dinners cooked and dishes washed.

My greatest joy is being your mother.

To Fred for being you and allowing me to be me.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Lorrie Ann’s sports car hugged the curves of the country road. Fence posts and cattle flew past her window as she ran back to the small town she fled twelve years ago. No one had warned her that in the pursuit of fame and fortune she could become emotionally and spiritually bankrupt. She glanced at the Bible with the purple tattered note sticking out of it. Well, her aunt might have, but she had been too stubborn to listen.

On the soft leather seat, next to the Bible, her cell vibrated again. Brent’s face filled the screen. How did she ever find her now-ex-fiancé’s grin charming? For two years she had ignored his behavior—until yesterday. Their last fight had escalated to the point where he’d hit her. When had she become her mother? Relationships were not her thing, and the situation with Brent proved her right.

That was the moment she took a long hard look at her life and didn’t like what she saw. She had no one to turn to. They shared the same friends. He played the drums for the band she managed.

She hadn’t taken a vacation in three years. With the holidays coming up she’d called the lead singer of the band she managed and told her she was heading home. Where was home? With nowhere to go, she headed to the only place she had family—her aunt’s pecan farm in Clear Water, Texas. She couldn’t imagine anyplace more different than Los Angeles.

The phone went quiet only to start chiming again a moment later. Teeth gritted, she shifted gears and picked up speed. She didn’t want to hear his apologies.

A burst of anger had her grabbing the phone and throwing it out the window. She dashed past the green sign that said Clear Water was eight miles. She turned up the music and pushed down on the gas pedal only to have the engine sputter and jerk. The steering wheel became stiff under her hands. With all her muscle she forced the BMW to the side of the road.

She checked the gauges and sighed. No gas, no phone, and she only had herself to blame.

One moment of temper had caused her to chuck her phone out of her car. Now she could walk the eight miles to town or walk back to find her phone—and hope that it still worked.

She needed to make the call she had been avoiding anyway, so she started the hike to find her phone.

Lorrie Ann fought to keep her balance as she walked back up the hill she had just driven down. Her five-inch-heel boots, designed for flat city life, didn’t take well to the rocky hike across the uneven ground.

The cool breeze whispered over her shoulders. She adjusted her brown felt fedora and glanced around the vast landscape of the Texas Hill Country. The Black Angus cows stopped chewing and silently watched her stumble along the fence. With one hand on the rough cedar post, she stared back. “What are you looking at?”

Great—less than a day back in Texas and she was talking to cattle. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “Dear God, I know for the last twelve years I put You in the backseat, and now I’m asking for help every time I turn around. Please, just give me the peace to know You’re in control and I’m doing the right thing.” Peace. She doubted she’d recognize it if it turned out to be a rattlesnake about to bite her.

A loud engine broke the endless silence of rolling hills. Lorrie Ann swung around, fearful for a moment of being so alone in the middle of nowhere without her phone.

A blue work-worn truck appeared over the hill. Coming straight at her, the black deer guard on the front looked menacing. The driver slowed down and pulled off the road.

Swallowing, she started praying for it to be a friendly stranger. The door swung open, displaying the Childress quarter-horse logo. Her heartbeat settled. She remembered the Childress family.

From behind the door stepped a walking Hollywood version of the American Cowboy. Tall and lean, his work-faded jeans rode low over slim hips. The dark T-shirt hugged his broad shoulders under a waist-length denim jacket. His fit body looked shaped by hours of working outdoors, instead of designed by a personal trainer. He must be one of the hired ranch hands.

He stepped across the road with confidence and walked in a way that might tempt a girl to give up her plans. Each stride of his long legs moved him closer to her. Her heart flip-flopped. She bit her lip. Stupid heart.

She had returned to Clear Water, Texas, to reconnect with God and to refill her spiritual bank, not to get tangled up in another relationship. Having her mom’s defective gene for picking men, her best option would be to remain male free.

A welcoming smile eased across his face. Lines creased the corners of golden-brown eyes and ran down his well-formed cheeks. One lone dimple appeared on the left side. Her mouth went dry.

“Are you lost?”

His deep Texas drawl washed over her. Lorrie Ann shook her head and searched for words.

“No, but I’m sure that depends on who you ask.” A nervous laugh ran away from her lips. She looked at the ground. Ugh, let me count the ways to sound like an idiot. Raising her gaze, she flashed her best smile. In California it never failed her.

Instead, he glanced off into the pasture, at the cows. “Is that your car up ahead?”

She sighed. Apparently, Texas cowboys were a completely different breed from the men she had been working with in Los Angeles.

“Yeah, I ran out of gas.”

Bringing his gaze back to her, he looked puzzled. “Town is about eight miles that way.” His long fingers pointed in the opposite direction she faced.

“I know, but my phone is somewhere over here.” She waved toward the pasture, and her collection of bracelets jingled.

On cue, the phone rang somewhere on the other side of the barbed-wire fence. At least Brent was good for something. “Oh, it still works.” She tried to climb between two strands of wire, but a barb snagged her long silk shirt, and her sunglasses hit the ground. When she turned to free the blouse, the top wire caught her hat, causing her hair to fall forward. The thick waves covered her face, blinding her.

“Hold still.” The cowboy’s voice emitted assurance. Gently his hands freed the corner of her shirt and held the wires farther apart so she could easily step through.

When she stood on the other side, she pushed her hair back. She reached for her oversize shades and shoved them over her eyes. Ouch! She’d forgotten the bruise. Her skin throbbed with a dull ache.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He leaned over the fence, handing her the hat.

Lorrie Ann didn’t like the look she read in the cowboy’s eyes. At best, it was concern, at worst, pity. Her nails cut into her palms. She hated pity.

“Anyone I can call for you?”

“No, no. Really, as soon as I get my phone, I’m good.”

He turned that devastating smile back on her. “How your phone ended up in a cow pasture is bound to be an interesting story.” He held his hand out to her, the fence still between them. “I’m John Levi.”

The phone sounded off again. Forgetting his hand, she spun around to locate the device. In a tall clump of gold grass, it vibrated. “I found it!” She lifted it high.

He smiled. “Now we just need to get you some gas, and you’ll be on your way. Where’re you headed?”

“Can you believe my destination is Clear Water?”

Lorrie Ann smiled back at him, a genuine smile this time. It felt good. The past couple years anything real had been hard to find, especially any type of happiness or joy.

“Come on.” He chuckled. “Let’s get you back on this side of the fence before the herd gets too curious.” He stepped on the bottom wire and held the top one up, leaving a large opening.

“Thanks.” With one hand on her hat, she stepped through without a problem this time.

“I’ll drive you to your car. I have some gas in a can in the back. Not sure your boots could make it down the hill.” She had forgotten cowboys always stayed prepared for anything. He held out his arm, like a gentleman from an old movie.

Her fingers wrapped around his denim sleeve. Masculine strength seeped through the sturdy material, warming her skin. “Thank you for helping.” Her shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe I ran out of gas this close to arriving home.”

“Home? You’re a local?” A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. “I should know better than to judge by appearances or license plates.”

“Oh, I’m probably everything you thought. I’m sure if you ask anyone in town, they’ll give you all the gory details.”

“In order to ask them, I’d have to know your name.”

She looked up at him, assessing his expression. “Hmm...that’s true.” Fear of what they would say tightened her muscles. She had left town in a swirl of lies started by the homecoming queen.

He waited a moment with eyebrows lifted. He finally grinned and closed her door. The cowboy walked around to the driver’s side. Climbing into the cab, he continued to grin.

His eyes stayed focused ahead as he eased them back onto the road. “So what brings you back to Clear Water?”

“My aunt. Maggie Schultz.”

“You’re Maggie’s niece, Lorrie Ann Ortega? She didn’t say anything about you coming home.”

She shouldn’t be surprised he knew her. Her aunt volunteered on about every committee in the small town and had always helped anyone that needed something, including her. “She doesn’t know.”

“She’s going to be thrilled.”

Lorrie played with the rip in her shirt. He obviously didn’t know the whole story. “I’m not so sure about that. It’s been a long time.”

“She’s been waiting for you.” He flashed her a quick glance accompanied by a grin. “Trust me. She’ll be very excited to see you.”

“How do you know her?”

He gave a casual shrug and smiled. “We’re at the same church.”

The big truck pulled up behind her small BMW. “Go open your tank. I’ll get the gas.” With a quick motion, he jumped out of the cab and went to the bed of his truck.

Leaping down from the side step, Lorrie Ann made her way to the silver BMW. She glanced into her car and cringed. With the top tucked away on her convertible, he would see the mess she had made in her twenty-five-hour run from California—the candy wrappers, huge plastic cups and haphazard packing that littered the backseat.

Yeah, it pretty much represented her life with Brent in L.A., all pretty and shiny on the outside and chaos on the inside. Now with no gas, the expensive machine sat on the side of the road, useless.

She leaned inside and picked up the Bible. The handwritten note from Aunt Maggie stuck out, purple and tattered around the edges. She didn’t need to read the words as they were etched in her memory. Matthew 11:28, Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

Those words had brought her back to Texas, to the closest place she had ever called home. She had been working so hard to prove herself, but somewhere along the way she had lost sight of the big picture.

“You have a note from Maggie.” He nodded toward her Bible. “Which verse did she send you? I have a full collection.”

Unaware he had approached, Lorrie Ann blinked to clear her thoughts. Did Aunt Maggie send these notes to everyone? Not sure how that made her feel, she laid the Bible back in the car. “She’s always looking for ways to help.”

He nodded. “She’s a prayer warrior. We’re blessed to have her.”

This all felt very surreal. In the world she just left, no one spoke of God and prayer, let alone Bible verses. And if you did, they’d only laugh and make some witty cut-down.

She pulled in a deep breath. “I need to be going. Thanks so much for your help.”

“I’ll follow you into town. The closest gas station is the mercantile. We can stop there and get you filled up then head out to Bill and Maggie’s farm.”

“Oh, no. You’ve done enough.”

“It’s on my way. I can’t look your uncle and aunt in the eye if I don’t make sure you’re delivered safe and sound.” He winked at her. “See you in town.” He stepped back and walked to his truck.

Okay, then. Her knight in denim remained on the job. She shouldn’t like the idea. Slipping into her car, Lorrie Ann turned the key and pulled back onto the road. With a glance at her rearview mirror, she watched John follow her.

Scolding herself, she muttered, “Remember, Lorrie Ann, your short-term goal is to get your life back in order and get back to work. A boyfriend’s not even on the long-term list.”

* * *

John Levi turned on the radio. Music he had shut out five years ago filled the cabin of his truck. His fingers tipped the guitar pick hanging from the rearview mirror. Carol, his wife, had given it to him when they were still dating. He watched the heart she had drawn on it swing back and forth. It was the only piece of his music career he kept after her death. The pick reminded him of what he had taken for granted.

The sporty car in front of him pulled out, and he followed. Lorrie Ann Ortega was a surprise, and any pull he felt had to do with her needing help. Through her aunt and mother, he knew her past, and now he saw the wounded look in her eyes. She needed encouragement and support. He could do that for her.

He tapped his fingers along the cracked steering wheel.

* * *

Holding the phone in her hand, Lorrie Ann wavered calling Aunt Maggie. What if she didn’t want her? Her mother hadn’t wanted her. Now that she was an adult, her aunt and uncle had no responsibility to help her.

As she came into town, she eased on the brake. A burst of purple and silver stretched across Main Street and covered every storefront window, each proudly supporting the Fighting Angoras football team.

Homecoming week. The day after graduation, she’d made sure to tell everyone that she would never be back. How ironic that she return the week of the homecoming game. Some rituals never changed. Lorrie smiled. An unexpected comfort washed over her. Not a single fast-food or chain-store logo cluttered the skyline.

Her phone vibrated. With clenched teeth, she battled the urge to throw the phone out of the car again. She imagined running over it until nothing but dust clung to her tires.

She wanted to leave everything in Los Angeles behind, long enough to figure out her life, anyway. The band had taken the holidays off. Could she develop a new-life action plan in less than four weeks?

Pulling next to the aged gas pumps, Lorrie Ann pushed the button to roll the top back over the car. She took a deep breath, slid out of the car and straightened her spine.

Her hands shook slightly as she adjusted the oversize shades. Lorrie Ann ran a manicured finger over the convertible top of her Z4 BMW. Definitely not the hand-me-down Dodge she had driven away in as a scared teenager.

She took a slow surveillance of the single-street town. A group of old ranchers still sat in front of the feed store. Their never-ending game of dominoes was as much a part of the landscape as the giant oaks.

John parked his truck on the other side of her. “Here, let me fill her up for you.”

She was not used to men offering to do things for her unless they wanted something. It made her a bit uncomfortable. She noticed new construction at the end of the street, an unheard-of occurrence in Clear Water. She gestured to the site, causing her bracelets to jingle. “What’s being built? Looks like a regular building boom for Clear Water.”

He nodded and smiled at her as he held the gas nozzle to her car. “The churches have banded together to build a new youth building.”

A gleam came to his eyes, reminding her of a proud parent. Bringing his gaze back to hers, he continued, “There’s still some fundraising that needs to be done, but enough has been raised to get the building started.”

“Wow, I’m impressed.” She cut a glance toward him again. He turned his gaze on her, started to say something and then looked away.

The silence stretched and got awkward. She bit her lip. Say something, girl.

“Um...so are you involved in the project?”

“It’s my goal to see it done before summer.” Nodding, he stepped back and replaced the nozzle. “Well, your steed is fed. I’ll walk you to the store.”

She couldn’t hold in the giggle. Did she just actually giggle? Lorrie Ann took a moment to savor the joy.

“Thank you.” She slid a glance to the old ranchers, now openly staring at her and the cowboy. She waved at them. “Hi, boys.” Swinging back to her knight in faded denim, she winked. “Think they appreciated the show?”

He laughed. A real laugh not measured or managed.

“They enjoy anything new to talk about. Are you good? I could wait.”

“No, I’m fine. I need to pick up a few items, then I’ll make my escape to the pecan farm.” Yep, she had become very skilled at running. “Thank you for the escort.”

He looked right into her eyes, and for a second she forgot to breathe. She had the sensation he saw past the makeup and fashion to the real her.

“It’s a true pleasure meeting you, Lorrie Ann Ortega. Welcome back.” He tipped his hat and pulled open one of the glass double doors to the mercantile for her. A little bell made a sweet musical sound.

He gave her one last wink. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again. Can’t hide in a town this small.”

The door closed, and she turned and watched through the large storefront windows as he walked away. Once he disappeared from sight, she noticed the flyers in an array of colors taped everywhere, announcing cabins for rent, hunting leases available and horses for sale. Well, she was back.

A loud squeal filled the air followed by a high-pitched voice. “L.A.? Lorrie Ann. Oh, my, it is you!”

Lorrie Ann cringed at her old nickname. No one had called her L.A. for years. She found herself ambushed in a tight hug by a tall woman with big blond hair. Knocked off balance, Lorrie Ann grabbed the girl’s arms. A death grip kept her from moving back. The overzealous greeter yelled over her shoulder, “Vickie, hurry out here. L.A. is back in Clear Water!”

“Katy? Katy Norton?” Relief flooded Lorrie as she greeted one of the few girls she trusted from high school.

“I didn’t recognize you till you came in. You sure look fancy. I hear you hang with rock stars now. Your aunt says you’re getting married to the drummer of Burn White.” Katy leaned back, but her hands remained clasped around Lorrie’s forearm. “Maggie didn’t say anything about you coming for a visit.”

“She doesn’t know. How are you?” Lorrie Ann glanced around the grocery store. From the hundred-year-old wooden floor to the meat counter in the back, all appeared the same as it did in her memories. “You work at the mercantile?”

“I married Rhody. We manage the store for his parents now.”

“You married Rhody Buchanan?” Lorrie Ann forced her eyebrows back down. “He picked on you in high school.”

Katy smirked and playfully slapped Lorrie Ann on the shoulder. “Well, I came to find out it was just his way of flirting. We have four boys now.”

“You and Rhody have four kids...together?” Her forehead went up again.

Before Katy could answer, Vickie Lawson, the conductor of Lorrie Ann’s high-school nightmare, ambled from the deer-corn aisle.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t big-city girl L.A.” Vickie’s stare slowly moved up and down. “Thought you were never coming back to our town.”

“Honestly, I’m as surprised as you are to find myself here. I came to visit Aunt Maggie for the holidays.” Lorrie Ann’s gaze darted around the store.

Katy hugged her again. “She’s been waiting for you. We’ve all prayed for you to come home.” She threw her arms wide. “And lookie, you’re here, an answered prayer. You’ll have to tell me all about your exciting adventures in L.A.” Katy sighed.

Lorrie Ann could hear the expectation of glamorous stories about life in Los Angeles.

Vickie crossed her arms and leaned against the counter, face pulled tight. “Where’s your boyfriend? Waitin’ in the car? Probably thinks he’s too good for the likes of us.”

Lorrie Ann drew a deep breath and smiled the smile she used to close deals with in L.A. “No, he’s not here. We broke up.” She turned to Katy with a genuine smile. “Once I get settled, we can have lunch or something.”

“Ooh, just like in the movies!” Katy tilted her head. “Will you be at church for our Wednesday-night prayer meeting?” She nudged Lorrie Ann’s shoulder. “Looks like you already know Pastor John.”

A frown replaced the smile when the word pastor sank into Lorrie Ann’s brain. Only one other person had spoken to her. That good-looking cowboy couldn’t have been a...

“That cowboy is a preacher?” Her jaw dropped, and she closed her eyes. Horror stomped out the shock. She had flirted with a man of God.

Katy’s smile went wider as her eyes sparkled. “Yes! He seemed to really like you.”

Vickie gave a loud snort and narrowed her glare. “You’ve always tried taking men who aren’t yours. He will see right through you.”

Katy punched Vickie’s arm and laughed. “Oh, stop it! Lorrie Ann just got into town. We don’t need to bring up what happened in the past. Anyway, Pastor John has not dated anyone since the horrible accident five years ago. I think it’s about time he left his daughters at home and went out for some fun.”

“Whatever.” With a shrug, Vickie turned and walked to the back of the store.

Lorrie Ann’s chin went up. No longer was she the pathetic girl abandoned by her mother. Now she made big deals and managed bands in her daily life. She controlled her destiny. Not some...

A warm hand on her arm brought her around.

“Don’t let her get under your skin. She’s always been jealous of you.” Katy waved her hand in the air and lowered her voice. “And since the divorce, she’s just gotten downright bitter. She should have never married Tommy. Poor thing, her life is a mess right now. Let’s get your stuff so you can go home.”

Katy’s soft gaze brought a knot to Lorrie Ann’s throat. Well, she could relate to a messy life. “I always thought her and Jake were an item. She hated my friendship with him.”

“Yeah, now they are both back in town and avoiding each other—sad, really.” Katy shook her head. “Come on. Let’s get your things so you can surprise Maggie.”

Purchases in hand, Lorrie Ann stepped out of the store and spotted the Ford truck still parked outside the mercantile. She groaned. Less than thirty minutes in town, and she had already been flirting with the town pastor right on Main Street. The gossips would have a field day with that tidbit.

Chapter Two

“Aunt Maggie? It’s—”

“Oh, mija, it’s so good to hear from you!” A slight pause came through the line. “Is everything okay?”

The love and concern in the older woman’s voice wrapped itself around Lorrie Ann’s heart. Eyes closed briefly, she eased a smile across her face.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m actually in Clear Water heading to the farm.” As the silence lingered, her stomach knotted.

“What? Oh, my, Lorrie Ann Ortega! What do you mean you’re in Clear Water? Why are you just now calling me?” Lorrie could almost hear her aunt’s thoughts processing. “Oh, sweetheart, what happened?”

“Nothing.... I just need a place to rest, get my thoughts together. Is it okay that I came to the farm? I don’t know Mom’s latest location.” Nerves hit her stomach hard. “It’s just for a couple weeks while I figure things out. I can rent one of the cabins.”

“You hush about paying. This is your home. Your room’s always ready for you.”

Lorrie pulled in her lips and bit down. The need to cry burned her eyes. She pulled a deep breath through her nose before she dared speak again. “Thank you, Aunt Maggie. I’m at Second Crossing now, so I’ll—”

A deer darted across the road. Her phone slid to the floorboard as she grabbed the steering wheel with both hands. Hitting the brake, she pulled her car to the side of the road.

The deer’s hooves slid on the pavement, fighting to regain control. The white of the doe’s eyes flashed, and in a frenzied twist it turned back the way it had come and ran behind her.

In Lorrie Ann’s rearview mirror, she tracked the animal as it scurried right in front of a yellow Jeep. Eyes wide, Lorrie Ann watched the events as if in slow motion. Horror filled her mind as the deer collided with the grille of the oncoming vehicle. The deer flew over the hood into the windshield, and the Jeep lost control. It slid in the loose gravel and rolled toward the river. Frozen in her seat, Lorrie Ann stared as a group of cedar trees stopped the rolling car.

“Lorrie! Lorrie Ann, answer me!” Her aunt’s frantic voice brought her back to herself. White fingers had a death grip around the leather of her steering wheel. As she reached for the phone between her feet, her hands shook. She took a deep breath. The dark shades fell to the floorboard, and she didn’t bother picking them up.

“I’m here. I’m fine, but there’s been an accident. I have to call 911.” Without waiting to hear her aunt’s response, she ended the call and hit the emergency button. She stepped out of her car and jogged along the shoulder of the road, her heels clicking across the asphalt. Breath held tight, she approached the flipped vehicle. When she heard crying, relief eased her muscles a small bit, proof of life.

She knelt to look in the cab, her heart pounding at the thought of what she might see. A young girl hung upside down by her seat belt in the backseat.

A sob muffled her words. “Rachel! Rachel!”

Her weeping broke Lorrie’s heart. “Sweetheart, my name’s Lorrie Ann. I called the ambulance.”

The voice on the line demanded her attention, asking for details. “There has been a car accident at Second Crossing. Oh, I’m Lorrie Ann Ortega. There’s a girl about five or six in the backseat. She is awake and suspended by her seat belt.”

Lorrie scanned the cab, noticing two more girls up front. Broken glass covered the roof, but the roll bars had done their job and created a pocket for them.

The passenger in the front seat appeared to be around ten or twelve. “There are two girls in the front, both strapped in their seats. The driver has blood on her face. She looks unconscious.” A deep sigh of relief escaped. “But breathing.”

The young girl in front started twisting against her shoulder strap. “Celeste? Celeste, where are you?” A frantic tone edged her voice.

“Rachel! I’m...I’m scared.” The smaller one in the backseat reached forward.

“Don’t be scared. Stop crying! It won’t help.” Her voice sounded more mature than her age.

Lorrie Ann couldn’t help being impressed. “Girls, help is on the way. Are you sisters?” Their matching ponytails bobbed as they nodded their heads. “It’s Rachel and Celeste, right?”

“Yes.” The older girl in the front spoke, moving both hands to rub at her face. “Amy’s our babysitter. Oh, Daddy’s going to be so mad.”

“I’m sure your father just wants you safe.”

“Oh! My leg is stuck. I can’t move it.” Rachel sounded calm, though her voice pitched higher at the last word.

Lorrie Ann narrowed her gaze on Rachel’s right leg surrounded by metal. It looked as if a piece of the engine had pushed through.

The driver groaned.

“Amy, Amy, wake up!” Rachel reached across and touched her shoulder.

“What happened?” Amy pushed back her hair. “Oh, no!” She sucked in deep breaths, and her eyes went wide. “Rachel? Celeste? Please, please tell me you’re all right!” She cried out in pain, hugging herself and moaning.

“Easy. Don’t hurt yourself.” Lorrie Ann pressed a hand to the older girl’s shoulder. “I hear the sirens. Help’s almost here. Just hang on, girls, and try to stay still.”

Lorrie Ann turned from the crumbled metal and watched as an ambulance arrived.

A state trooper pulled in from the other direction. He quickly stepped from his car and made his way to the wreckage. Lorrie Ann squinted against the sun to get a better look at him and then hung her head.

He hunched next to her, scanning the inside of the car. “Hang tight, Amy. Girls, we’ll have you out soon.” He turned until she saw her reflection in his aviators. “Lorrie Ann Ortega? What in the world are you doing here?”

She stared into the face of another ghost from her past. Even with the dark shades masking most of his face, she knew who hovered over her.

“Jake Torres, I’m trying to help three scared girls here.”

He nodded. Bracing a hand on the door as he peered back inside, he spoke again, his voice softened. “We’re here to help you girls. So breathe and stay calm.”

He glanced back at Lorrie Ann over his shoulder. “Girl, you sure know how to make an entrance back to town.”

* * *

Making his way to the post office, John could not stop the urge to whistle a sweet tune as he waved to the cars slowly passing by. The plans for his day had fallen apart when Dub called, needing help with a renegade horse.

He smiled, remembering his frustration when the church secretary, JoAnn, called right after with a problem at the construction site. Both unscheduled events put Maggie’s niece right in his path.

It had been a long time since he allowed himself to enjoy the company of a female. He should have fully introduced himself, but he suspected the easy camaraderie would have ended. As soon as someone found out he was a pastor, they started acting differently around him. Ordinarily the attitude didn’t bother him, but today, he just wanted to be a normal man getting to know another person. Another person who happened to be a woman.

That thought gave him pause. He tilted his face toward the sky, trying to recall how long it had been. Time had a way of slipping past unnoticed.

The tiny, dark-haired female had boldly gotten his attention. He grinned. Knee-high boots were not his style, but something about her had radiated past her appearance. He shook his head and started walking again. He needed to get back to the task at hand. Guilt roared at him. He had no right to flirt with anyone.

With a quick flip of his wrist, he checked the time. In order to make his lunch date, he had to get in and out of the post office undetected by any well-meaning parishioners.

With a slow pull on the glass door to ensure the bells remained silent, John slipped into the small post office and held his breath. With a swift glance to his left, he found the room clear.

Today he would not break his promise to the girls. He would be home by noon. A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth as he thought of all the whispering and giggling involved in planning a surprise picnic for him. He never seemed to spend enough time with them.

Small-town life had become much more complicated than he’d imagined when he’d accepted the job as senior pastor four years ago.

He pulled the envelopes from the square compartment and gently closed the long brass door to box 1, feeling like a CIA spy behind enemy lines...almost free.

“Oh, Pastor John, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you into the post office so early?”

Caught. For a split second, his shoulders sagged, and he closed his eyes.

“Pastor John? Is everything okay? I have the cranberry-oatmeal cookies you love so much.” Postmistress for the past thirty years, Emily Martin spoke around her daily chicken-salad sandwich. “They’re in the back.”

Relaxing tight muscles, John put on his welcoming smile and glanced down at the tiny woman who made him feel taller than his six-foot frame.

“No, thanks. The girls are waiting for me.” He glanced at his escape route. Fondness for the sweet lady won over. “How are you today, Miss Emily?”

“Oh, those babies—that oldest looks just like her momma, poor thing. Well, my sister is pestering me again about Momma’s house and my knee is bothering me, which I hope means we’ll be getting some rain—the ground’s so dry—but other than that, I can’t complain.” She swallowed her last bite. “It’s all in God’s hands, right, Pastor John?”

“Yes, it is.” John glanced behind Emily again, to the door only five feet away. So close yet so far. “Well, I’ve got to be going. You have a nice day.”

Behind his smile, John gritted his back teeth. Utter defeat consumed him as he watched Elva De La Soto, another elder member of his church, open the door. She rushed in wearing the familiar expression of tragedy on her face.

“Pastor John! I’m so glad you’re here. There’s been an accident at Second Crossing. It’s the Campbell girl’s Jeep. Is she babysitting your girls today?”

* * *

John ran to his truck and drove toward the pecan farm without a conscious thought. Fear and faith clashed in John’s brain. His phone started buzzing. Recalling the phone call about his wife’s accident, he froze. He stared at the unfamiliar number. If he didn’t answer he could stay ignorant of any bad news. He prayed with every fiber of his being for his girls’ safety.

Why had they been in the babysitter’s car? They weren’t allowed to travel with anyone without his permission. Amy knew his rules. His mind numb and his knuckles gripping the steering wheel, John turned onto Highway 83.

Faith would enable him to handle whatever waited for him. With a firm move, he accepted the call.

“This is John.” His own voice sounded foreign.

“Daddy?” a small tentative voice came over the line.

Relief flooded his body, and his hands began to shake. John cleared his dry throat. “Hey, sweet girl. Are you okay?”

“I’m...I’m a little scared, but Rachel told me not to be. The car is upside down. A deer ran into us. Ms. Amy and Rachel are in the ambulance. Rachel told me not to cry, and Lorrie Ann said everything’ll be okay.” She sniffled. “Daddy, please come get me.”

Amy’s yellow Jeep came into view. He swallowed back the bile that rose from his stomach. Reality and memories tangled in his vision. Flashes of his wife’s crumbled silver Focus clouded his eyesight. The accident had been his fault. Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on today.

All four wheels faced the clear sky. The driver’s side was smashed against a cedar break. The trees had stopped the Jeep’s free fall into the river below. At the sight, his body stiffened; he could no longer feel his limbs.

His two little girls had been in that jumbled piece of metal.

John pulled his truck to an abrupt stop on the side of the highway, the loose gravel crunching under his tires. His gaze scanned the area.

The trooper’s red and blue lights reflected over the people starting to mill around the crushed car. His six-year-old daughter sat on the front seat of a little BMW, her bare feet dangling in front of Lorrie Ann.

His throat closed up, and for a minute, he couldn’t breathe. Thank You, God! Thank You!

“I’m right behind you, baby. I’m here. I’m going to hang up now, okay?”

His youngest daughter’s head whipped around, searching for him. Before his boots left the old truck, she had started running to him. In a few strides, he had her pulled up close against his heart.

Her thin arms tightened around his neck, threatening to cut off his air. One hand cradled the back of her head; the other scooped up her bottom. Her legs wrapped around his torso.

“Hey, monkey. It’s all right. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He whispered into her ear, taking in the smell of her apple shampoo. He closed his eyes and for a moment focused on her heartbeat. The warmth of her tiny body absorbed into his.

Thank You, God.

He opened his eyes and found Lorrie Ann staring up at him.

“Hello again.” She reached out and patted Celeste’s back. “I was first on the scene. Amy and Rachel are with the EMTs. They’ll be fine—just a bit more banged up.” Her voice remained calm, and the softness in her eyes soothed him with the compassion he saw.

He glanced to the open doors of the ambulance. Fear slammed its way through his gut. Celeste wiggled under his tightened grip. He closed his eyes, sent a quick prayer and relaxed his muscles.

“You can take Celeste with you. I promise it’s not bad.” Her smile reassured him she understood his hesitation of taking Celeste to the ambulance.

What she couldn’t see? The images flashing in his mind of his wife’s accident. He swallowed hard and pressed his lips against Celeste’s forehead. With another prayer, he hurried across the street to his oldest daughter while carting his six-year-old on his hip.

“Rachel?” He poked his head around the door only to find Amy, his seventeen-year-old babysitter, on the stretcher. “Hello, Amy.”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Pastor Levi, I’m so sorry. I know I wasn’t supposed to take them, but they wanted apples for the chicken salad. They said it was your favorite. I’m so sorry.”

“I just want y’all to be safe.”

From the far side, he heard voices.

“Daddy? Are you there?” Ducking around the ambulance, he found Rachel. His stress lightened a bit at the sight of Brenda Castillo, in her blue EMT uniform, bent over his daughter’s leg.

“Hello, Pastor John.” Brenda smiled at Rachel. “See, I told you he would get here before we left.”

“Daddy, I’m so sorry.” Huge tears spilled out of her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

His chest clenched at the sight. “Oh, princess, there’s nothing for you to apologize for. It was an accident.” He went to bend down, but with Celeste still in his arms, he almost lost his balance.

“Here, let me help.” The soft voice surprised him.

Lorrie Ann had followed them over. Before he could do anything, a pink zebra-print golf cart drew everyone’s attention as it charged onto the highway. Dust flew as the small woman, Margarita Schultz, set a determined course straight at them.

“Aunt Maggie!” his daughters and Lorrie Ann yelled as one voice.

The cart threw pebbles as it slid to a stop. Without slowing down, Maggie jumped from the seat. Short black-and-silver-streaked hair flew around her face. Large dark eyes flashed with worry as she hurried over. “What is going on here, mija? You scared me to death with that call, young lady.” She looked around, and her hand went to her chest. “Oh, no, Amy’s Jeep is...” She went to her heels beside Rachel. “Oh, mija, are you all right?” She glanced at Brenda and then to John. “Is she going to be all right?”

“Her leg needs to be x-rayed.” Brenda spoke to John. “We have it stabilized. You can take Rachel to the hospital yourself. Steve and I are taking Amy to Uvalde.”

Maggie turned back to John. “You take Rachel.” She put a hand out to rub the slim back of John’s youngest daughter. “We’ll take care of Celeste. You won’t feel right until you have Rachel all safe and sound. I’ll start the prayer chain.”

“Are you sure, Maggie?” Torn, he pushed his daughter’s loose curls behind her ear, hesitating. “Maybe I should take Celeste with me.”

“You don’t know how long you’ll be there. We’ll make sure she eats lunch. I’d get you something to eat, too, but I know you won’t touch a thing until you see for yourself Rachel is fine. So go on with you.”

“Thank you, Maggie.” With a finger under her little pointed chin, John lifted his tiny daughter’s face up to his. “Do you want to stay with Aunt Maggie?”

She nodded slowly and, to his surprise, reached for Lorrie Ann. Maggie’s niece extended her arms, pulling the little precious body from him. He reluctantly let her go.

In truth, he wanted to hold on to her forever, but he needed to get to Rachel and focus on her. “Lorrie Ann, thanks for being here and staying with them.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

Her smile held him mesmerized for a moment, until he heard Maggie’s gasp. She had noticed the bruise under Lorrie Ann’s eye.

“Were you hurt, too?”

“No. It’s just a bump. Go on,” she said to him. “You need to get Rachel to the doctor.”

As a pastor, he had gotten good at spotting a guilty face, and Lorrie Ann’s screamed guilt as she sliced a look back from him to her aunt. They both knew the bruise had been there before the accident.

With a last kiss on Celeste’s forehead, he promised to return soon.

* * *

Lorrie Ann watched as John carried his injured daughter across the street. Her heart ached at the careful tenderness he used to settle her in the cab of his old Ford.

She wondered what it felt like to be cherished that way. With a shake of her head, she forced her attention back to the child and Aunt Maggie. “Well, ladies, ready to go to the house?”

“I want to ride in the zebra car.”

“No, you go on with Lorrie Ann. I’m going to speak to a few people.” Maggie turned and cut off a small crowd heading their way, sacrificing herself to the persistent string of questions. Lorrie Ann gratefully dodged the mob and hurried to her BMW.

She buckled her new friend in and headed for the ranch house up the hill.

“Do you live close by, Celeste?”

Celeste twisted and stretched from her seat belt, looking out the window. Her blond curls bounced with each bob of her head.

“Yes, ma’am, we live in the big cabin there—the one behind Aunt Maggie’s house.” She pointed and turned back to Lorrie with a grin.

Lorrie fought the urge to bang her head against the steering wheel. Of course they did. Where else would he live, other than the cabin a few steps from her aunt’s back door?

Chapter Three

Lorrie Ann paused at the wrought-iron gate that led to the terra-cotta-paved courtyard. Wisteria and roses climbed the white stucco walls. The large ranch house rambled off both sides of the patio. Lorrie Ann smiled at the turquoise door.

All the hours and years she’d spent waiting for her mother to come back rushed in and filled her mind.

“Are we waiting for Aunt Maggie?”

The child’s voice pulled her back to the present. She smiled down at the rumpled-looking doll and took the small hand in hers.

“No, just caught up in some memories.” Pulling air through her nose and slowly releasing her breath, she took one step forward. “Let’s go to the kitchen door. I bet she has something we can heat up for lunch.”

Obviously familiar with the home, Celeste headed to the breezeway. The traffic-worn stones gave testimony that family and friends went straight to the back door.

Stepping into the kitchen, Lorrie Ann had the unexpected urge to cry. Spices from all the meals cooked over the years lingered in the air. The clay bean pot and flat cast-iron griddle sat on the old white stove.

“Did you live here when you were a little girl?” Celeste asked as she twirled in the middle of the large open kitchen. “I want tortillas. Do you think she has some papas?”

“Now, that is a word I have not heard in a while.” Lorrie Ann opened the refrigerator door and dug around until she found an old margarine tub with cubed potatoes that had been panfried. “Here we go—papas!”

“And tortillas!” Celeste held a wicker basket of tortillas like a trophy. “But I’m not allowed to touch the stove.”

Lorrie Ann turned on the burner and adjusted the flame.

“After school, my cousin, Yolanda, and I would race in here to fight over the first tortilla.” Maggie’s daughter always argued that since she was younger by four years and it was her mother who made them that she should get the first one.

At the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room, Celeste jumped on a stool and started spinning in circles. “Is Aunt Maggie your real aunt? Did your mom and dad live here, too?”

“Maggie is my mom’s older sister. My mom traveled, so I just stayed here.” The story slipped from her lips naturally as she flipped the tortilla.

“What about your dad?” The child spun the chair in the opposite direction.

“My father?” A good question her mother never answered. “Um...well. He’s gone.”

“He’s dead?”

Lorrie Ann gasped. “Oh, no.” What had she done? “Oh, oh, no. I mean...I don’t know. No, uh...” How did she get out of this?

“You don’t know? I’ll ask Daddy to pray for him. Rachel says he has the most important job in the world.”

Lorrie Ann scooped the potatoes into the warm tortilla. She glanced at the door. “Aunt Maggie should be here any minute.” With plate in hand, she turned away from the stove to face the child.

Celeste’s head popped up over a pyramid made of red cups. Her tongue stuck out between rows of tiny white teeth.

Lorrie Ann froze. “Oh, my...you...um...you need to sit down.”

“I just need to add the last guard to my castle.” She balanced the spoon against the side of the top cup, but as she pulled away, the whole structure collapsed.

Heart in her throat, Lorrie Ann dropped the plate on the counter and rushed to grab Celeste before she fell. “I think it would be better if you didn’t stand on a swivel chair.” With a heavy sigh, she started picking up the cups.

Celeste joined her. “I’m sorry, Miss Lorrie Ann. My sister says I need to learn to sit still.” Her voice sounded subdued.

With a forced smile, she faced the little girl. “No harm done.” She patted her on the head. “It’s okay, rug rat.” They put the last cup back on the counter. “See, everything’s back in place and nothing broken. But I would suggest not standing on moving chairs.” She patted the seat. “Cool tower, by the way.”

“Thanks.” The smile beamed again.

“Here you go. Time to eat.” She scanned her brain for a safe topic. “I think I saw grapes. Do you want some?” She went back to the refrigerator and pulled out a clear bag full of the fruit. While washing them, she glanced out the big picture window, hoping to see her aunt. She sighed at the empty driveway and tore off a small bunch of grapes for Celeste.

“Oh, I can’t eat whole grapes. Daddy says they have to be cut in half so I don’t choke. Hot dogs, too.” She tossed a cubed potato in her mouth. “Why do they call the purple crayon grape when grapes are green? Will you please cut them? Daddy won’t let me use a knife.”

“Sure.” She pulled a small knife from the same drawer they had been in twelve years ago.

“I tell Daddy that only babies eat cut grapes, but he says I’ll always be his baby.” She stuck out her tongue and scrunched her little nose.

“In Los Angeles, cut grapes are gourmet food. I only eat sliced grapes myself.” She pulled a white plastic knife from the drawer and handed it over to Celeste. “Here, you can use a plastic knife.”

Together they sliced the grapes. Lorrie Ann tossed one up to catch in her mouth, but it bounced off her chin, causing the sweetest giggle to come from the other side of the counter. She closed one eye and looked at the little girl with the other. “Hey! Are you laughing at me?”

Celeste sat up straight. Her ponytail swung with the shake of her head while her shoulders trembled as she failed to hold down her laughter.

Both turned at the sound of the screen door opening.

“Aunt Maggie, look! Miss Lorrie Ann taught me how to make gourmet grapes.”

“She has always been very creative.” She smiled at them then headed to the red wall phone. “Give me a minute. I need to start the prayer chain and call your grandpa.”

“He’s at the five hundred pasture today, Aunt Maggie.”

Maggie ran her finger down a list of names. “Well, then, I’ll just leave him a message.” She pushed the buttons on the phone. Bare spots on the twisted ten-foot cord exposed colored cables.

Lorrie Ann smiled. “Do you ever think about getting a cordless?”

“Oh, Yolanda bought me one of those, but I lose it all the time. This one works just fine.” As she listened to the rings on the other end, she glanced around the kitchen. “Where’d Celeste go?”

With a gasp, Lorrie Ann turned to the empty chair the little girl had been sitting on, and her heart froze in her chest. How did she lose one little person? “Celeste?”

She moved through the large archway that led to the family room. “Celeste?” Behind her, she heard muffled giggling. Shooting her aunt a questioning look, she only received a smile and shrug. Aunt Maggie turned to finish her phone call.

So, she was on her own again with the small creature. “Celeste, where are you?” She started scanning the floor and under the counter.

Huddled in a ball under the ten-foot pine table, Celeste giggled again.

Lorrie Ann went to the floor. “May I ask why you’re hiding in the chair legs?”

“I’m a rabbit and this is my home.”

“How about a movie?” Aunt Maggie asked from across the room.

Celeste wiggled her nose. “Okay.” She started hopping out then stopped. “You’ll stay with me?”

The same golden-brown eyes Lorrie Ann had looked into this morning pierced her heart. What would it be like to see your own features in a child? She doubted she’d ever know.

“Sure.”

Less than fifteen minutes into some princess movie, Celeste fell asleep, curled up like a kitten with her head resting on Lorrie Ann’s thigh. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back on the overstuffed leather sofa.

Aunt Maggie walked into the living room. “I figured she’d go to sleep.” One click of the remote and the princess’s song went silent. “Now, Lorrie Ann Ortega, you will tell me what happened that brought you home.”

Lorrie Ann kept her eyes closed and wondered how long she could fake sleep.

“I know you aren’t asleep.”

Apparently less than a minute. With a heavy sigh, she opened her eyes.

“I needed to get away. Once I was on IH 10, coming here just felt right.” She rubbed her arms and studied the sleeping child in her lap. “I really don’t want to talk about it right now. I have the holidays off, so here I am. After Christmas I’ll go back to L.A. recharged and ready to take on the world again.”

“Is it your fiancé?” Her aunt’s voice turned quiet. “Does it have anything to do with that bruise?”

“Now that I’m here I’m fine.” As long as I don’t become my mother. “You don’t need to worry about Brent. That’s definitely off, no regrets, no maybes about it. We are over.”

“Okay, then.” She reached over and picked up her quilting hoop. “This is your home. I’m glad you’re here.” She placed her purple reading glasses low on her nose and contemplated the stitching in her hands. “We can throw a party.”

Lorrie Ann groaned and ran her hands through her hair. Ugh, she needed a shower. She rested her head on the back of the sofa. “There are people who won’t be happy I’m back.” The one thing she regretted most was bringing shame to Aunt Maggie and Uncle Billy. “You know I didn’t leave on the best of terms.”

Aunt Maggie slipped off her glasses and moved to sit next to Lorrie Ann. Reaching past Celeste, she put her hand on Lorrie Ann’s shoulder. “Mija, I have prayed every day that God brings you back to your family.” A soft smile eased its way across her milk-chocolate skin. She pushed a piece of hair away from Lorrie Ann’s face. “Let the petty high-school drama go.”

At her aunt’s soft touch, Lorrie Ann felt like a little girl again.

“When you’re ready, you can talk to me.” She gently squeezed her shoulder. “But know this...you sitting here is an answer to many, many prayers.”

Uncomfortable with the love in her aunt’s gaze, Lorrie Ann turned her head and closed her eyes to block the feelings of guilt. Instead, she focused on the heartbeat of the sleeping child in her lap.

Maggie stood and placed her quilting hoop back in the basket. “I need to call around to make sure Amy’s parents have meals.”

Lorrie Ann relaxed and closed her eyes again but couldn’t shut off her brain.

Her hand moved to stroke the silky blond hair of the little person in her lap. She smiled, thinking of Celeste’s father.

Her gaze fell across the family pictures on the bookshelf. Smiling faces of her many aunts and uncles along with all the cousins crowded together in mismatched frames. She lingered over the only picture of her with her mother. Blue-and-purple icing smeared on both their faces at her tenth birthday, the last birthday she’d spent with her mom. Happiness filled the face of the little girl she had been, thinking her mother would stay.

She realized returning to the farm, she wanted to find the family she never really knew and the only place she had felt God.

The image of John holding his daughters crossed her mind and melted her heart. What would it have been like to have that kind of father? Her mother had refused to say her father’s name. Lorrie Ann had eventually stopped asking.

She watched her manicured nail make little circles on Celeste’s shirt. John’s life reflected God. Hers? Not so much.

She rested her cheek on her other hand supported by the arm of the sofa. Even though she shouldn’t want to see more of his dream-changing smiles, she found herself listening for an old blue truck’s tires on the gravel driveway.

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.

Chapter Five

Tuesday slipped by quietly into Wednesday morning. The sun slid through Lorrie Ann’s window, and she just lay there. A slow smile eased across her face when she realized she had nowhere to be, no appointment to make and no people to mollify or manipulate. She could lie in bed all day if she wanted.

Her forehead creased. She did have one thing she needed to do. Quick thumbs and the text to Melissa, the lead singer of the band, was sent. With a satisfying thump, she closed the drawer with the cell phone inside. She had a few weeks to hide.

Shoving the guilt aside, Lorrie Ann reminded herself that everyone deserved a holiday, and hers would be in the Lone Star State this year.

She sighed. What she really needed was a new job. There was no way she and Brent could work together. If her boss, Melissa, had to pick between the talented but troubled drummer and the band’s manager, Lorrie Ann figured she would be the one to go.

Once dressed, she headed outside. Bible in hand, her other hand trailed over the smooth worn cedar railing of the zigzag stairs leading to the river below the cabins. The cool October breeze ruffled her hair as she made her way to the edge of the Frio. The flow of the river had changed since she’d left.

With her hand on one of the large cypress trees, she slipped off her shoes and stepped into cold, clear water. In California, she’d been so focused on being successful she’d misplaced her love for the outdoors.

“Miss Lorrie Ann, Miss Lorrie Ann. Hello!” Celeste’s excited voice drifted down from the top of the cliff.

Lorrie Ann cupped her hand over her eyes to block the sun as she turned to find the six-year-old hanging over the edge of their balcony. “Hi to you, Celeste. Hear you’re coming over today for a visit.”

“Daddy has to take Rachel in to get casted. Can we cut some more grapes?”

“Sure. Thought we could make some cookies, too.”

The little girl started to jump up and down. “Yeah! We can take some to Amy.” Celeste leaned over the railing, suspended over the cliff.

“Celeste Rebecca Levi, put your feet on the floor right now!” John’s stern voice came from the cabin door behind Celeste.

She looked back to the cabin and pointed down to the river. “Sorry, Daddy. Miss Lorrie Ann’s in the river.”

A few seconds later he appeared next to his daughter, one arm wrapped around the precocious six-year-old. “Hey there, Lorrie Ann. Hope you’re well rested.” His mussed hair fell across his forehead as he looked down at her. “Isn’t the river cold?” The sun emphasized the highlights streaked in his dark blond hair. She knew men who paid hundreds of dollars to get coloring like his. Without a doubt, nature created his color.

“Maybe, but it feels good.” She shrugged and smiled up at them, placing her hand over her heart. “I believe I should be reciting from Romeo and Juliet.”

His laughter soothed her as much as the clear water running over the rocks.

Nose wrinkled, Celeste leaned over and asked, “What’s Romeo and Julie?”

“Juliet,” John corrected.

Lorrie Ann threw her arms wide. “A love story with a tragic ending. Poor Romeo stood under Juliet’s balcony and professed his undying love.”

“Then Daddy should be Romeo and you, the beautiful princess. Is Juliet a princess?”

“Monkey, I think Lorrie Ann wanted quiet time, not a literary discussion.” He picked her up and swung her onto his hip.

“Quiet time? But that’s boring.” One small arm wrapped around her father’s neck, Celeste slanted over the edge with a puzzled look on her face. “Miss Lorrie Ann, were you really wanting quiet time?”

“Well, I was thinking about finding a place to pray and think.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Daddy likes quiet time, too. But he does it at the church. Maybe you can go to the church with Daddy.”

Even from the river, she could see the lines around John’s eyes deepen with his smile. “Come on, monkey. Let’s leave her to her solitude.” He patted her back. “Sorry about the interruption, Lorrie Ann.”

“Oh, please, don’t apologize. I’ll see you in a little bit, rug rat.”

“Bye, Miss Lorrie Ann. Tell God hi for me.” She waved as John turned them toward the door. “Daddy, what does literinary mean?”

Lorrie Ann couldn’t stop the smile as she looked down at her toes beneath the water. Curious little minnows started checking out her feet.

In a few hours, the family would be eating dinner together before heading to Prayer Night at the church. The smile slipped away. Thinking of her cousin, Yolanda, caused old hurts to boil up from the deep places she thought buried.

Back then she had been afraid Aunt Maggie would side with her real daughter. Lorrie Ann remembered living for the day she would leave this small town, proving to everyone she mattered. Truth be told, she was still a little afraid what would happen if Aunt Maggie had to choose between them.

With a deep breath she closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds around her: the water, the wind dancing through the trees and the leaves floating to the ground.

“God, I’ve come back to find You. I know it’s been a long time, and I’m not sure what to do. I’ve messed up so much I need You to show me the way to go.” She stepped farther into the river. “I don’t want Aunt Maggie to be hurt. Please show me what to say to my cousin, Yolanda.”

She waded down the riverbank to a little platform. On the other side a ladder dropped down to a swimming hole with a long flat rock creating a natural edge. Above it hung a thick corded rope.

Climbing to the platform, she sat and dangled her legs in the water. Running her fingers along the pages, she opened her Bible to the prayer in Ephesians and read how much God loved her.

A noise on the steps alerted her to someone’s presence. Turning, she raised her eyebrows at the sight of Celeste hopping down the stairs with one hand on the railing.

When the little girl spotted Lorrie Ann looking at her, she crouched on the step and whispered, “Are you finished with your quiet time?”

Lorrie Ann closed the Bible and grinned. Who knew a child could be so entertaining? “Yes, rug rat. Does your father know you’re down here?” She glanced up to the cabins.

“He sent me over to Aunt Maggie’s house.” She skipped the rest of the way to Lorrie Ann and sat down, crisscrossing her legs. With her elbows on her knees, she rested her chin on her intertwined fingers. “Are we still talking to God or the fish?” She intently stared into the water.

“Um...well, I kind of ran out of things to say to God, and I’ve never talked to fish before. You talk to fish?”

Celeste rolled her legs around and flopped onto her tummy. With one hand under her chin, she dipped the other in the water.

“Yes.” She looked up at Lorrie Ann with a big smile. “It tickles when they nibble on you. They’re my pets.” She moved her gaze back to the water. “Shh...there’s Rainbow—he’s the biggest.” They both sat still staring at the fish underwater as he stared back at them. They waited in silence. Lorrie Ann smiled when she realized she was in a staring contest with a fish.

“Celeste Rebecca Levi!” They both jumped at the sound of John’s voice. “I told you to go to Aunt Maggie’s house. You are not allowed down by the river.” His long strides had him by their side in seconds. “You can’t be interrupting Lorrie Ann’s prayer time.”

He stood over them, hands on his hips. Lorrie Ann arched her neck back to look up at him. It just seemed wrong that a man of God would look so good. Wasn’t there some rule about pastors being old grandfatherly types?

His cotton polo shirt fit just right over his broad shoulders and tucked neatly into his jeans. In silence, he stared down at them. Celeste jumped to her feet, her small body mirroring her father’s stance as she fisted both hands on her hips.

Lorrie Ann squirmed, feeling like a kid caught skipping school. “Oh, it’s all right. I saw her and called her down. I...um...finished—” she waved her hand in circles “—you know...praying.”

He raised one eyebrow and grinned at her, probably amused about her stumbling over words he used all the time.

“Daddy, Rainbow almost came to me. You scared him away.” She looked back into the river, searching the clear deep water for the fish.

He crouched down, balancing on his heels. He rested one hand on Celeste’s shoulder and brought his gaze to rest on Lorrie Ann’s face. “Are you sure she’s not bothering you?”

For a minute she couldn’t breathe, feeling lost in his eyes, but she managed to shake her head.

“Well, then I’m heading out. Are y’all good for the day? Need anything before I leave?”

Lorrie Ann gave a quick nod, still unable to speak.

“Give me a hug, monkey.” He held his arms open.

Celeste leaped at him, kissing his cheek. “Love you, Daddy. Hurry back.”

“We’ll be back for dinner. See you then, Lorrie Ann.” He flashed another heart-stopping smile and then headed up the stairs. Her gaze stayed locked on him as he bounded up the steps, two at a time.

“Do you like Daddy?” Celeste had flopped back on her belly, hanging her chin over the edge of the platform.

Lorrie Ann shot a startled frown at the back of the little girl’s head. “What do you mean?”

Celeste twisted back around and wrinkled her nose. “A lot of ladies at the church look funny at Daddy, the way you just did.” She threw a small rock into the water. “Some of them said I need a mom.” She threw another rock. “Rachel says they’re just busybodies wanting to marry Daddy and we don’t like them.” Jumping to her feet, she started gathering some more small rocks. “You’re fun. If you wanted to be my mommy I wouldn’t be mad. Rachel might be, though.”

The bottom of her stomach fell. The thought of being anyone’s mother horrified her.

Celeste started tossing the rocks sideways. “Rachel knows how to skip rocks. Daddy told me to keep practicing and I’d get it.” She wrapped her fingers around another rock, her tongue sticking out between her teeth.

Lorrie Ann held her breath as she watched the rock fly. With a slight skip, it bounced back up once before dropping under the water. A huge smile filled her face.

Screaming, Celeste turned to Lorrie Ann, jumping up and down. “I did it! I did it! Did you see?”

Lorrie Ann laughed and clapped her hands. “Yeah! That was awesome, Celeste!”

As she twirled in circles, the little girl’s ponytail swung out. “I skipped a rock!”

Out of breath, Maggie appeared at the top of the stairs. “Lorrie Ann? Celeste? Is everyone all right? What happened?”

Lorrie Ann laughed aloud, her smile feeling too large for her face. “Celeste skipped a rock!”

“I did! I did, Aunt Maggie! It skipped right over the water just like Rachel’s and Daddy’s.” She squeezed her hands together in front of her, her body trembling.

“Celeste, you scared me half to death. If you two are going to make cookies for tonight, you had better get up here. No more lollygagging.” With those words, she turned and disappeared.

“What do you say? Ready to go up and make those cookies?” Lorrie Ann dusted off a bit of gravel and leaves from her black cropped pants.

“Please don’t tell Daddy. I want to surprise him.”

“No problem, rug rat. Um...and you won’t mention anything about the funny way I looked at him, right? I don’t want him or Rachel to worry.” She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the thought of her, married to a small-town pastor.

Celeste pulled her out of the altered universe when she grabbed her hand, looking at her as if she’d gone crazy. She snorted. Crazy was a good word for her life.

“It’s okay, Miss Lorrie Ann. Daddy says gossiping about people is hurtful. I won’t tell your secret.”

With that, the rug rat skipped up the stairs.

Great—the only thing between her and complete humiliation was a precocious six-year-old.

Chapter Six

As Lorrie Ann approached the kitchen later that evening, she faltered a moment and took a deep breath, willing the knot in her stomach to ease. With her best let’s-do-lunch smile, she tossed her hair back and stepped through the archway, one high-heeled boot at a time.

She had spent thirty minutes changing into and out of clothes. In the end, she’d put on her Los Angeles armor.

Reaching out with both hands, she greeted her cousin. “Yolanda! It’s been so long.”

Yolanda’s dark green eyes widened and for a second her mouth dropped open as her gaze took in the burgundy leggings and the silk blouse. But then again, Lorrie Ann thought, her cousin’s surprise might have something to do with the five-inch brown leather boots that covered her knees.

Yolanda pushed the loose ends of her hair from her face, trying to adjust her ponytail.

Yolanda had taken after her dad in height and stood about seven inches taller than Lorrie Ann. Because of the boots, they almost met eye to eye.

“Oh, wow, L.A., you look—” Yolanda stepped forward into a quick hug “—great. It’s been so long.”

Maggie joined them. “Now, Lorrie Ann, I told you this was a casual family dinner.” Her gentle voice had an unusual sharp edge. “Why did you get all dressed up?”

“This?” Lorrie Ann ran her hand over her silk shirt. “It’s my first family dinner in twelve years.” She gave Yolanda a tight smile.

Yolanda bit her lip. “Excuse me. I need to clean up.” With a glare to Lorrie Ann, she brushed past her and headed down the hallway to her old room.

Turning back to the kitchen, Lorrie Ann met Aunt Maggie’s dark eyes. The smirk fell from her face, and she felt as if she had been caught stealing Uncle Billy’s last cookie.

“What?” With her arms crossed, Lorrie Ann suppressed the need to squirm under her aunt’s scrutiny. “I didn’t do anything.” She gave a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes. Okay, so I have officially reverted to an insecure teenage girl. “People expect me to be a certain way, you know, coming from Los Angeles and all.”

“Mija, if you give people a chance, they will like the real you.”

Lorrie Ann turned away from the gentle look in Aunt Maggie’s eyes. Why did guilt feel so heavy and ugly?

She moved to the stove. “I’ll finish warming the tortillas.” As she flipped the tortillas, she heard a vehicle pull into the driveway. Celeste came rushing into the kitchen from outside.

The screen door slammed back as the hurricane of energy swirled into the room. “Lorrie Ann! Aunt Maggie! Rachel has her cast! It’s purple.”

“Hey, rug rat. Slow down.”

“Rachel’s so slow because she has to walk on the crutches and won’t let Daddy help her. Aunt Maggie, Uncle Billy said to bring him the veggies.”

Maggie grabbed the bowl and headed to the grill, ordering Lorrie Ann to make the tea while rubbing Celeste’s head. A few breaths later, a knock on the door announced the arrival of John and Rachel.

“Hello?” John walked through the screen door then stood with his back holding it open and flashed a grin. “She insists on walking without my help.”

The sound of Rachel’s shuffling feet and the thump of the crutches came with agonizing slowness as they waited for her to make an appearance. When she finally made it to the door, John reached out to help her over the threshold.

“I have it, Daddy.” With an awkward movement, she adjusted the crutch and managed to step up as her tongue stuck out in concentration.

John turned his face to Lorrie Ann, rolled his eyes and shook his head. “She can be a bit stubborn.” He shot her a wink. “Gets it from her mom.”

Celeste scooted a red step stool by the sink and started pulling out plates from overhead. “I’m stubborn, too, just like Mom. Grandpa says so.”

“Celeste, get down from there! Wait until I can help you.” One of John’s hands stayed on the door as he tried to reach for his younger daughter with the other.

Lorrie Ann moved to Celeste. “Here, let me help you.”

“Rachel always sets the table, but now I get to do it.” The stack of thick milk-glass plates wobbled over her head.

Lorrie Ann reached up behind her to balance the plates and lower them to the counter.

Rachel twisted toward her father. “She can’t do my job.”

“Rachel, she just wants to help.” His large hand covered her entire shoulder. “With the crutches, how would you carry the plates?”

“How about setting the silverware?” Lorrie Ann pointed to the table. “The basket’s already there.”

“Thanks,” John whispered close to her ear as he walked past her to help Celeste carry plates and glasses. “I see you’re back to your L.A. gear and artificial height?”

Standing in the kitchen with John, her decision to change made her feel shallow. She gave him the same weak line. “I wanted to wear something special for my first family dinner.”

With his arms braced behind him, John leaned against the sink and watched the girls set the long table. “You looked nice this morning.”

She shrugged and flipped another tortilla.

“Oh, you look so pretty, Miss Yolanda,” Rachel suddenly called out.

Lorrie Ann turned and saw the perfect example of feminine refinement walk into the kitchen. Her cousin wore a soft green dress with a faint floral print. It swirled around her knees and complemented the low-heeled sandals on her feet. Her thick brown hair now floated in waves just below her shoulders. Lorrie Ann straightened her spine and repeated her mantra, Smile, stand tall, fake it if you have to.

“Daddy, I want to dress up!” Celeste jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “Can I have some pirate boots like Miss Lorrie Ann?”

He laughed as he caught the six-year-old up in his arms. “I’m not sure a ranch is the best place for pirate boots.”

Yolanda opened the cabinet door next to John. “L.A. did always love costumes.”

Lorrie Ann felt like growling as she watched her cousin bat those incredibly long lashes at John. Instead, she repeated her mantra a few more times.

Yolanda continued in her soft Texas drawl, “Good evening, Pastor John. How did the trip to the doctor go today?”

“All went well. It was a clean break.”

Celeste slipped out of his arms and ran off to get the napkins. Turning back to Lorrie Ann, he reached for the sugar as she poured boiling water over the tea bags.

He held out the container for her. “I want to thank you again for keeping Celeste. She went on and on about the plans you had today.”

Taking the sugar from him, Lorrie Ann smiled. “To tell you the truth, I looked forward to it myself.” She looked up and was struck by the gentleness in his light brown eyes. For a moment she studied the gold flakes that radiated warmth. Oh, what had she been saying? “Um...she’s a great kid.”

“Please, let me know if she becomes too much.”

Yolanda came up and laid her hand on his sleeve. “You know I can watch the girls whenever you need help.”

Before he could reply, Aunt Maggie and Uncle Billy brought in the fajitas and grilled vegetables.

“Is the table set? Ice in the glasses?” Maggie set the platter of meat and bell peppers on the table and smiled. “Looks nice, girls.”

“I got the plates and glasses, Aunt Maggie.” Celeste ran from the table to the refrigerator. “I can get the ice, too!”

In a voice too prim for a young girl, Rachel yelled after her sister. “Celeste Rebecca Levi, you need to sit down.” She lowered her voice and squinted. “You’re going to give Daddy a headache.”

John’s rich laughter filled the room as he lightly pulled Rachel close to his side. “Thank you, sweetheart, but I think I’ll survive.”

Uncle Billy got the ice instead. After bringing out the rest of the food, Aunt Maggie sat down next to her husband. “Come on, everyone. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

Lorrie Ann reached for her old chair and collided with John’s hand. They both yanked back.

“That’s Daddy’s chair,” Rachel informed her. “He always sits there next to me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“No, you take it.” His now-familiar grin made her forget about dinner. “We don’t have assigned seating—just creatures of habit.” He looked over at Rachel. “It’s good to shake up our routine.”

Uncle Billy’s gruff voice snapped the air. “Can y’all sit down so I can pray?”

“Yes, sir,” they answered at the same time. She slid a glance to her right and found Rachel glaring at her. To the left, John had his head bowed. Everyone joined hands. The words of her uncle’s prayer slid into her heart. She had missed being part of this family worship.

As soon as the prayer finished, Aunt Maggie jumped right in. “So, Pastor John, have you had any ideas about the Christmas pageant? With Martha out of town, I don’t know how we’re going to get it all done. It is the hundredth anniversary, so it needs to be big.”

Dread slipped through Lorrie Ann. She carefully put her filled tortilla back on her plate. “Aunt Maggie, please don’t.”

“Oh, mija, it’s perfect.” She handed a warm tortilla to her husband, never taking her gaze off John. “What about Lorrie Ann?”

She had to stop her aunt before she went any further. “No way.”

John raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think she’s interested, Maggie.” Filling his tortilla with meat and avocado, he shrugged his shoulders. “Vickie said she’d do it.”

Yolanda snorted “Vickie? She’s an awesome seamstress, but organizing and directing? She doesn’t know the first thing about music.”

Lorrie Ann thought of any suggestions she could make. “What about Mrs. Callaway, the high-school drama teacher? I remember her directing the pageant when I sang.”

“That is Martha.” Yolanda made it sound as if she should have known Mrs. Callaway’s first name. “Her sister’s having health problems, so she went to Houston to stay with her.”

Aunt Maggie pointed her knife at Lorrie Ann. “Someone with the experience of organizing big music events is sitting right at this table.”

Lorrie Ann gripped the knife, beating down the frustration. Disappointing her aunt seemed to be her forte. “No one in this town would want me anywhere near the pageant.”

“Oh, pish-posh, that is just nonsense. The committee has been praying for someone to step up and lead the pageant.” She looked at John as she poured Yolanda more iced tea. “Don’t you think God is at work here?”

He took the opportunity to fill his mouth with his fajita. She watched his throat as it moved with each swallow.

The poor man needed to be rescued. “Aunt Maggie, I organized rock concerts not...church plays,” Lorrie Ann tried to explain one more time.

“I can do it,” Yolanda offered. “I’ve helped with the set and props for the last few years.”

“You’ve done a great job, mija, but we need someone with a big vision. It is the pageant’s hundredth-year anniversary.”

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