by Liz Isaacson
“Comin’,” he said so Sammy would know he’d heard her. Cactus invited very few people out to his cabin, and Sammy served as a very physical reminder of what Bear had that Cactus did not. At the same time, she’d lost someone very important to her too, and Cactus’s soul had bonded with hers the first time he’d met her. So while she reminded him of all he’d lost, he loved her like an older brother and he’d do anything to make her happy.
He opened the door and found the pretty brunette standing on the porch with her son, Lincoln. “Evenin’, Cactus,” she said with a tired smile. “Link, tell ‘im.”
Cactus looked down at the child. “Tell me what?”
“So, Bishy said you were thinkin’ about gettin’ a dog.”
“Can you talk like a normal person?” Sammy asked, and Cactus glanced at her. Had she not heard herself say “Evenin’,” and “tell ‘im”?
“Yes, ma’am,” Lincoln said. He looked from her to Cactus. “Uncle Bishop was helping me walk Benny, and he said you wanted a dog. There’s this boy in my class whose dog just had puppies, and they’re going to be real big dogs.” He looked up at Sammy, who nodded. “He said they were great Danes and mastiffs combined, and I told Uncle Bishop about them tonight, and he said you would want one.” Link started to bounce on the balls of his feet. “Uncle Cactus, don’t you want a big dog? He could keep you company out here, and you could train ‘im to walk alongside your horse, and he would keep your feet warm in the winter.”
Cactus grinned at the child. “Come in, boy,” he said, and Lincoln stepped past him, still chattering.
Cactus met Sammy’s eye and kept his smile in place. “Thank you for bringing him.”
“You’re not upset?”
Cactus shrugged, though he really did adore Lincoln. “Who can stay upset at Lincoln?”
Sammy entered the house and sat down on the couch, a groan coming from her mouth. “I can’t wait until this baby comes.”
“I’ll bet,” Cactus said as he settled onto the love seat. Lincoln climbed up next to him, snuggling in close, and Cactus put his arm around the boy. “Did you bring your book to read?”
“Yep.”
Lincoln started to read, and Cactus looked at Sammy. “Still not going to find out if you’re having a boy or a girl?”
She shook her head, a smile touching her lips. “You know how much Bear loves surprises.”
Cactus laughed, because that was the opposite of the truth.
“I can’t fit under the cars anymore, Charles.” Sammy pushed herself to the edge of the couch. “I can’t wait to fix up your hair.”
“First,” Cactus said, fixing her with a hard glare. “It’s just a haircut. Nothing wild. Second, I’m sorry you can’t work on your cars anymore.”
She nodded, something sparking in her eyes. “It’s okay.”
“Yes, it is,” Cactus said. “Because your baby is worth a few months where you can’t slide under a car and fiddle around with a wrench.”
Their eyes met, and Cactus dropped his head in apology, though he probably didn’t need to. He heard Lincoln read a word incorrectly, and he said, “That word is dynasty.” He grinned at the boy’s slip. “Not die-nasty.”
He started to chuckle, the sound growing and morphing as he heard the mispronunciation in Lincoln’s sweet voice over and over.
Sammy started to giggle too, and Lincoln stopped reading. “What?” he asked, pure innocence in his expression.
“Nothin’, boy,” Cactus said, squeezing him tight against his side. “Keep reading while your momma cuts my hair.”
Cactus sat in his truck and watched people walk toward the chapel. A happy couple swung their toddler between them every time he ran forward and launched himself into the air.
A single mother hurried through the wind with her two kids. An elderly couple clasped hands and kept their heads bent, their attention on the ground as they walked.
Cactus sat and watched like this every week, but today, he realized how everyone was welcome here. They all came from different walks of life, and lived within a completely unique set of circumstances, but the Lord loved them all.
He wanted everyone to come to Him, including Cactus, who closed his eyes and somehow left part of himself in the driver’s seat while the other part of him walked across the lot by himself.
A single cowboy, his head held high as he tucked one hand in one pocket and hoped no one was watching him.
He breathed in and opened his eyes. He made the solitary walk across the lot exactly as he’d imagined he would and up the steps.
He usually arrived pretty late to church, because he wanted to slip in without talking to anyone, and better yet, get out before everyone else.
Today, though, the choir hadn’t even started to sing yet, and he entered the chapel to the sound of organ music only.
Today, he thought he might try sitting with his family. As if on cue, Sammy turned around, and Cactus lifted his hand. She raised her eyebrows, and he nodded.
She set about moving everyone down the row, causing a big fuss, which was exactly what Cactus didn’t want.
He ran his hand over his trimmed beard and drew in a breath. Before he could take a single step, a woman said, “Good morning, Cactus.”
He nearly tripped as he turned toward her and tried to go down the aisle at the same time. He managed to catch himself by grabbing onto the back of a pew, thankfully, because when he turned to the woman, he came face-to-face with Willa Knowlton.
He hadn’t even seen her sitting in the back row. She stood now, her smile lovely and revealing straight, white teeth. She wore a beautiful dress the color of midnight, with silver sailboats dotting it. A pair of diamond studs twinkled in her ears, and he found her so put together without being flashy or overdone.
His heart leapt into the back of his throat, choking him. It quickly fell to his boots when she added, “I heard you’ve got a beautiful bass singing voice, Cactus.” She nodded to someone as they passed by, and Cactus wished he could fold himself into a smaller package so everyone would stop staring at him. Oh, and she really needed to stop saying his name in her mesmerizing voice. He was never going to be able to fall asleep again, because he’d just lay there and re-imagine his name in her voice over and over again.
The choir stood to sing, the music switching from organ to piano and drums. Cactus looked up to the front, his eyes catching on both Bear and Sammy as they gaped at him.
Help me, he thought, praying with everything inside him that the Lord would send a savior to rescue him from this conversation. He had enough brothers and cousins to get the job done. The Lord just needed to inspire one to come get him and lead him to the family row.
“Do you want to sit by me?” Willa asked, and she stepped back into the pew, moving down to make room for him.
Cactus still hadn’t even said hello, nor had he denied or confirmed that he had a “beautiful bass singing voice.”
The choir started to sing, and some in the congregation began clapping. He looked at Willa, her expression open and dare he say…eager?
He didn’t look back toward Sammy and Bear. His phone buzzed in his pocket and that would be one of them. Probably both. More buzzing, and Cactus had a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach that everyone in the whole family had now seen him.
He needed to sit down or go home.
He slid onto the pew with Willa, flashing her a smile. As the choir sang their opening number, he leaned over and said, “You’re not leading the music today?”
She shook her head, her beautiful, dark, strawberry blonde hair swinging with the movement. Her hazel eyes met his, and her smile widened. “My brother found someone else. It was time for me to let someone else have a turn anyway.”
“So you’re not doing the Christmas program this year?”
She shook her head, and then nodded. Cactus squinted at her, and she gave a light laugh that was quiet enough not to disturb those around them. “Not for the church. But I’m leading a big com
munity choir for the Christmas Festival this year.”
“Oh, that’s amazing,” he said as the choir finished their number. He faced the front again, his hands tucked between his knees though he’d very much like to lean back in the pew and put his arm around Willa’s shoulders. If he didn’t do that, he’d certainly claim her hand in his before the pastor could even finish the announcements.
“I hope it’ll be amazing,” Willa said as her brother announced the hymn they’d sing together as a congregation.
Cactus didn’t normally sing, but today, Willa had the book open to the right page and she moved it so it hovered between them.
He had no choice but to reach out and hold the half closest to him, and Willa leaned in closer. So close, Cactus caught the floral and whimsical scent of her perfume.
He closed his eyes and took a deeper breath, because she made him fire on all cylinders.
“Perhaps with you in the choir, it will be amazing,” she whispered just as the song began.
She didn’t start singing, and Cactus certainly didn’t. Wouldn’t.
He couldn’t believe he’d fallen into this trap, and he wanted to flip the book up so it would close and neither of them could read the words.
At the same time, the horrible, sickening thought that he should open his mouth and sing also ran through his mind.
Chapter Nine
Willa Knowlton couldn’t believe Cactus Glover had sat down beside her. She’d seen him come to church many times, and today he’d been earlier than usual. He didn’t sit by his family, but he usually found a spot on the end of a bench near the back.
She’d seen him get up and leave in the middle of her sermon, and she’d watched him slip out the back door the moment the closing song started. She’d never seen him anywhere but at church, and she could admit to herself that she’d been looking.
He’d asked her out after they’d met at the tack and feed store, where he’d acted like he worked there. She’d never asked him why he’d done that, because she hadn’t wanted to embarrass him.
Perhaps she hadn’t wanted to embarrass herself for the assumption she’d made. She’d been touched by his kindness, and she thought about him every single day. When he’d called to ask her to dinner, she’d been shocked but also pleased.
Willa had also known she wasn’t ready to begin a relationship with a man like Cactus Glover. He possessed wisdom in the navy recesses of his eyes, and while he put off an air that mimicked his name, she suspected he had more depth than anyone Willa had ever met before.
He’d experienced true pain and suffering, the same way she had.
She’d wanted to go to dinner with him, but the wounds in her life had still been weeping. When Patrick had called and said an old friend of his from the seminary had fallen and he needed someone to come help, Willa had jumped at the opportunity.
She’d already had her bags packed, in fact. She’d been five minutes away from throwing her suitcases in the back of a cab and flipping a coin at every intersection to decide which way to tell the driver to go.
Instead, her brother had picked her up the next day, and they’d made the six-hour drive to Three Rivers, Texas together with his girls. Patrick was exceptionally talented at getting people to trust him and talk to him, and while Willa knew this and had vowed not to tell him anything, six hours in a vehicle together was a long time.
And she’d been in so much pain.
Willa could breathe without a pinch in her lungs now, and she thanked the Lord that so much had been healed in the past six months. She thought that if Cactus asked her to dinner now, she’d say yes.
The man intrigued her, and not just because of his good looks and depth of spirit.
A new voice joined the chorus, and Willa closed her eyes to hear it better. She’d always been touched by music, and her momma had once said she could hear harmonies no one else could.
She didn’t dare move too much for fear that Cactus would silence his beautiful voice. Rich, deep, and perfectly in-tune, the man had been blessed with an incredible voice. Pastor Summers had been right.
Willa smiled as she opened her eyes, joining her soprano voice to the hymn when the third verse started. Cactus sang with her, one of them high and one low, until the end of the song. He gently put pressure on the book, and she released it. He let it close easily, and he tucked it between the two of them on the bench.
She did glance at him then, and he leaned back against the pew, his eyes straight forward as he folded his arms. She felt the tension radiating from him, and she wanted to tell him to relax. At the same time, she would never tell another person to relax, as it sounded so condescending and cruel to her.
“I know what you did there,” he whispered, his head inclining toward hers slightly.
“What did I do?” she asked, feeling like a sixteen-year-old again, sitting next to the cutest boy in school.
“You got me to sing so you could hear my voice.”
“Guilty,” she said with a smile.
“You’re going to ask me to join the community choir.”
“Most likely.”
“I’m not going to do it,” he said.
Willa didn’t know what to say to that, so she focused on her brother’s face behind the mic and tried to pick up where he was in the sermon. It was impossible with Cactus at her side. Her skin buzzed with an energy she hadn’t experienced before, and all Willa could think about was how she could see him again.
When, and how. What they could do together. This was her first year in Three Rivers, but she’d heard several stories about the holiday festivities the town hosted. Everything from tree decorating contests, to opportunities to serve in the children’s wing at the hospital, to putting together care packages for soldiers serving overseas. She’d even heard talk of a Wassail Weekend, and as a lover of hot apple cider, Willa was looking forward to marking that on her calendar.
The full list of activities and events would be published sometime this week, and Willa could already feel the Christmas cheer vibrating through the air.
Before she knew it, Cactus stood up, and Willa glanced at him, thinking him getting ready to make his escape.
But no, everyone else had stood too, because the sermon had ended and the closing song had begun. Embarrassment filled her as she quickly got to her feet, the ache in her knee smarting as she put her weight on it.
Cactus glanced at her, but he hadn’t picked up the hymnal. Willa didn’t either, because she knew this song by heart. She grinned at him and opened her mouth to sing. He didn’t, but it didn’t matter. She’d heard his voice, and it had been glorious and beautiful.
As the last verse came to a close, Willa felt her time with Cactus rapidly ending too. She stopped singing and leaned toward him. “I heard the town kicks off Christmas with a tree-lighting…thing. Do you—?” She cut off as he swung his head toward her and looked at her fully.
Something stormed on his handsome face, and it ignited irritation inside her chest. She wasn’t going to ask him to the tree lighting now. With him glaring at her like that, she wasn’t going to talk to him ever again.
“What were you saying?” he asked as the song ended completely and the congregation started to enter the aisles.
“Nothing,” she said, turning to pick up her purse. “Nothing at all.”
“It sounded like you were going to ask me to the tree-lighting…thing.” Something sparkled in those eyes, but Willa couldn’t determine if it was dangerous or flirty before Cactus shuttered it away.
“I wasn’t,” she said.
“Good,” he said. “Because I wouldn’t go. I don’t do stuff like that.”
“Participate in your community events?” she fired at him, her eyebrows going up in a challenge. Her heart beat faster and faster, and it wasn’t only because he turned fully toward her, completely blocking anyone from exiting the bench on his side.
“That’s right,” he said.
“Because you’re spending time at the tack
and feed store, posing as someone who helps people find rabbit feed.”
His eyes blazed now, and it was definitely with an angry fire. “You asked me where the feed was, and I knew. I told you. I never posed as anything.” He also didn’t bother to keep his voice down, and a couple in the pew in front of them waiting to get to the aisle looked at the two of them. “In fact, Miss Knowlton, you’re the one who assumed I worked there without asking.”
“You could’ve said so,” she said.
“Why would I? Is it not okay for me to be neighborly and helpful? The rabbits survived, I assume.”
Willa lifted her shoulders a tad higher and shook her hair back over them. “Yes.”
Cactus gave her a smile that could’ve been a smirk. “Did they eat better than you?”
Willa’s frustration with him faded slightly, but he’d already ignited every cell in her body. “As a matter of fact, they didn’t. My brother is single, you see, and it turns out that he doesn’t really know what a vegetable is.”
Cactus burst out laughing, and Willa glanced around again, almost embarrassed by the volume of it. At the same time, the gorgeous, deep laugh tickled something inside her too.
“Cactus?”
Willa looked past him to a man of equal height and breadth, and he definitely belonged in the same family as Cactus.
“Hello, Pastor Knowlton,” he said.
“Hello,” she said. “I’m not the pastor anymore, so you can just call me Willa.” She put her placid smile on her face as Cactus looked at the other man. He nodded and raised his eyebrows, obviously communicating something to Cactus he didn’t like.
Finally, he said, “I’m not introducing you to her. You already know her, and she just told you her name.” He looked at Willa, nodded once, the brim of his cowboy hat nearly concealing his face, and left the pew.
The man stood there with his pregnant wife, and he extended his hand toward Willa. “I’m Bear Glover, Cactus’s older brother. My wife, Sammy. Our son, Lincoln.”
“Of course,” Willa said, shaking his hand and then Sammy’s, smiling at Lincoln last. “Nice to meet y’all.”