by Lynne Gentry
David nodded. “We don’t have the specialists or facilities Amy needs in Mt. Hope.”
All the motives she’d assigned to David and Amy’s behavior had been wrong. They weren’t ignoring her, and they weren’t trying to squeeze her out of the parsonage. They were two scared kids trying to weigh the pros and cons of a very difficult decision.
“Aren’t you worried the stress the trips could place on—”
“There’s lots to worry about, Momma,” David interrupted. “That’s why we’re not ready to tell anyone yet.”
The three of them sat there, no one speaking, everyone remembering how painful it was to listen to the well-meaning condolences of the congregation after J.D.’s death. David was right. The loss of a baby would be hard enough on them. Having to explain their loss again and again would be more than anyone should have to bear.
“This is your news to tell whenever you believe the time is right,” Leona assured them. “But it’s mine to treasure ... forever.”
The doorbell rang.
Leona froze.
Her children and her late husband weren’t the only ones who could keep secrets. And this one was a doozy. She’d forgotten all about her date. What a blow it would be to David and Amy if they found out this way.
Now what?
“Momma?” David tapped her hand. “Want me to get the door?”
“No!” Leona ran her sweaty palms down the front of her skirt and stood. She put on her company smile. “Would y’all like to stay for dinner?”
David and Amy traded glances.
“Sure,” David said.
“Great. Stay right there.” Leona hurried to the door. Through the glass, she could see Roy waiting on the bottom step, a big bouquet of flowers in one hand and a beautifully wrapped package in the other. She threw the door open. “Roy, so good of you to come.”
“Whoa. You’re prettier than an African sunset.” His eyes twinkled. “Red is definitely your color.”
Did he mean the flush heating her cheeks or just red in general? “Thanks.”
“Twirl around, and let me look at you.”
“That’s silly, Roy.” Leona was shaking her head, but he kept on insisting. “Okay.” She stepped out onto the stoop, looked both ways to make sure none of her neighbors were watching, then took a quick spin. The breeze twirled the skirt’s silky fabric around her knees and for a moment she could almost feel herself dancing.
Roy released a pleased sigh. “You’re more beautiful than I remember, LeLe.” He thrust the flowers at her. “Sorry I’m late. I’ve lived on African time for so long, I may never get used to the American obsession with promptness.”
“No worries, Roy.” She held the beautiful assortment of blossoms to her nose and drew in the heady scents. “We’re not on the clock tonight.”
Roy rewarded her with that killer smile of his and a deep and pleased inhalation of the evening air. “Is that chicken pot pie I smell?”
“I’m afraid I didn’t have time for that recipe. Hope roasted chicken breasts will do.”
“Guess I’ll have to settle for the company then.” He winked.
She fingered one of the soft rose petals. It had been years since anyone had given her flowers. J.D. would have, but she’d shut him down claiming the money could be better spent. What other pleasures had her overly cautious ways cost her? Why had she lived when J.D. was the one who obviously had so much more to live for?
Roy leaned in and caught her eye. “LeLe? We eating outside tonight?”
His question snapped her from the survivor’s guilt. “I’m sorry.” She indicated he should follow her and turned for the door. “Let’s get these in some water.”
Roy stepped inside and snagged her arm. “Wait, LeLe.” He handed her the box, a mischievous look in his eye. “I seem to remember a woman who couldn’t get enough of these.”
Leona drew the box to her chest. “Please tell me this box is stuffed with dried mangos.”
“To the brim.” Roy’s arm hooked her waist and reeled her in so tight Leona felt the cardboard flatten inside the wrapping paper. He smelled of leather and sunshine and life. His lips gently brushed against her forehead. Heavenly feelings coursed through her body. Sensations she hadn’t felt since the Sunday J.D. nuzzled her neck right before they left the parsonage for what would be his last sermon.
“Uh, Momma?” David’s voice gave them both a start.
She and Roy broke apart, each taking a step back and flushing red like two junior high campers caught kissing behind a tree.
“Roy,” Leona stuttered, the flattened box of mangos still pressed to her chest. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve invited David and his wife Amy to join us.”
Roy’s smile went stiff. “I always love jawing with your boy, LeLe.”
David’s eyes cut to Leona’s. She was certain he hadn’t missed the red creeping up her neck any more than he’d missed the intimate way Roy tossed her nickname around. “Truth is, Roy, Amy’s been on her feet all day and she’s worn out.” David turned to Leona. “If you don’t mind, Momma, I think I’ll take my wife home.”
“If you’re sure.” Leona held Roy’s gifts like a shield to her chest.
“We’re sure,” Amy winked.
If she had any hope of fixing her bumble onto the dating scene, it had to be now, before David got on the phone and called his sister. “Roy, I’ll just see them off, if you don’t mind.” Leona thrust the flowers and mangos at her speechless guest. “Make yourself at home.” She followed David and Amy to their car.
“I didn’t know you loved mangos, Momma.” David opened Amy’s door.
“There’s lots you don’t know about me.”
“Apparently. Roy McGee is a ... surprise.”
“Don’t make a big deal out of this. Your father and I knew Roy and Ivy back in grad school. He’s a recently widowed missionary friend on furlough and I’m ...”
“A beautiful woman,” David kissed her cheek. “Remember, not a word about me and Amy to your friend.”
“God is the only one who’ll be hearing from me about you, if,” she paused for emphasis. “...Maddie won’t be hearing about me from you.”
David was silent for a moment. “Deal.”
Leona nearly skipped up the sidewalk. When she stepped back inside Roy had made himself at home. He’d put her flowers in a vase, set her crushed package on the coffee table, and was standing by the fireplace looking at the family pictures.
“J.D. was quite the guy.”
Leona sucked air through the hole her heart. “Yes, he was.”
She’d spent the last two days putting Roy off, claiming she needed time to put her new home together. Now, that he was here, she wished she hadn’t wasted precious moments. “How long are you staying in Mt. Hope?”
“Now that depends.” A flirtatious smirk lifted the corner of his mouth.
“On what?”
“On whether or not you’ve already found a dance partner.”
“I have not.”
“How many weeks do these dance lessons last?”
“Six.”
“Then that’s how long I’m staying.”
She smiled. “Really?”
“Only a fool would turn down the opportunity to learn to dance with a beauty like you.” He scooped her up. “Wait until you see what these two left feet can do.” Effortlessly, he spun her around. Leona burst out laughing. She was still laughing when he set her red shoes on the white carpet, his hands tight on her waist.
She was still giggling when he kissed her, on the mouth this time. The feel of his lips on hers was a pleasure she’d missed more than she knew possible. Slowly her hands raised and wrapped his neck. And just like riding a bike, she was kissing him back. Their connection only lasted for a few seconds, but an eternity of possibilities skyrocketed in Leona’s head.
He pulled away gently, leaving her breathless. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first time I saw you.”
Leona’s breath cau
ght. Her mind raced backward. Surely Roy hadn’t meant he’d wanted to kiss her that long-ago Sunday morning when she and J.D. first bumped into Roy and Ivy in the church potluck line? “You mean since you surprised me at the newspaper office, right?”
Roy didn’t immediately discern that he’d been misunderstood, but when her uneasiness finally dawned on him, he flushed. “I loved Ivy with all my heart. I miss her.”
The only detail Leona knew of Ivy’s death was that a horrible fever had taken her in a few days. It must be the shared experience of the sudden death of a spouse drawing her to Roy, because she had no intention of ever putting herself in the position of losing someone she cared for again. However, spending time with someone, who’d been blindsided as painfully as she, did have an undeniable appeal.
She silenced him with a finger to his lips. “As I miss J.D.”
Roy slipped his hands into his pockets and took a step back. “You have a screwdriver handy?”
“What?”
“Your screen door is off its hinges. Want me to hang it?”
Laughter exploded from a place so deep she could feel emotions nailed firmly in place break loose. This was the first really good laugh she’d had since ... she couldn’t even remember the last time. “Roy McGee, you are a true romantic.”
“Wait until you see what I can do with your leaky kitchen faucet.”
“I’ve learned I don’t need a man to take care of me.”
He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Just want to earn my dinner.”
“That’s all?”
His clear blue eyes were an ocean inviting her to jump in. “You know it’s not, LeLe.”
“You’ll find J.D.’s tools in the garage.”
“I kept Ivy’s mixing bowls.” Roy’s gaze locked with hers. “Don’t know the first thing about how to use them, but just couldn’t let them go.”
While Roy hung her door, Leona bustled around the kitchen thinking about what else Roy hoped to earn. Her companionship? Her trust? Her heart? She could feel his appreciative eyes watching her through the screen. Intense heat flashed from her core. Her snug new outfit made no allowances for the building steam to escape. She pried open the window above the sink and sucked in the cooling evening air. She’d been out of the romance business for years. Quite possibly she’d read more into Roy’s proclamations than he’d meant.
She’d gotten used to handling repairs herself, and had even begun to enjoy the freedom that came with making her own decisions. But, if she was being honest, she also missed the sound of a man fixing things.
For years, J.D. had been her repairman. He could replace a drippy faucet, stop a drippy car radiator, or soothe her drippy tears. Whatever mess life threw at them, her husband had always helped her sort it out and right the wrongs. And he did it armed with little more than a hammer and his great sense of humor. Sorting the mess J.D’s death had made of her life had been one of the hardest parts of being on her own.
Or so she thought, until Roy McGee swept her into his arms.
Hoping the heat from the new oven was the cause of the perspiration on her lip and not her own foolish ponderings, she was grateful when the stove timer finally went off. She lit the candles on the table, dabbed the moisture from her lips, then went to the entry where Roy was tightening the last screw on the screen. “Pretty handy with tools aren’t you, mister?”
Roy smiled broadly. “Never knew what to expect when I was in the bush.” He opened and closed the screen a few times. He stepped inside. The door closed snugly without as much as a squeak. “Truck might break down. Pump go out on a water well. Or a lion could have ripped through a hut.” Adventure oozed from his pores, its scent as intoxicating as the flirtatious twinkle in his eyes.
She reached for the screwdriver from his hand. “Come, tell me about Africa.”
His free hand caught hers. He slowly drew her fingers to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “Come with me and see it for yourself, LeLe.”
CHAPTER SIX
Roy’s captivating stories of water wells dug, reed homes built, and churches planted had lasted late into the night. Leona had been so deeply affected by Roy’s tales of all the lives he’d changed, she couldn’t quit thinking about his offer to take her to Africa. If she didn’t have to fly over water to get there, she might have left with him on the first plane out of Dallas.
Leona sipped her coffee, hoping the caffeine would chase away the sleep-deprivation grogginess as she waited in Saul’s favorite booth. Although she’d taken a page from Roxie’s book and dressed like a woman intent on getting things done, she needed more than a flattering blue suit and taupe heels to sway Saul Levy. She needed a clear head. One important key element had to be put into place before she could give serious consideration to Roy’s proposal to follow him around the world.
She stared at the open menu, her stomach in such a knot she didn’t really have an appetite.
“I thought our meeting was set for seven.” Saul stood beside the booth, a frown on his face, as he checked the watch on his wrist. “It’s only zero sixty-thirty hours.”
It took a second for her tired, civilian mind to convert his military-time reporting. “You’re early then.”
“Thirty minutes early is on time in my book.”
She smiled and invited him to sit. “Mine too, actually.”
He removed a plainly wrapped brown-paper package that was tucked under his arm, laid it on the table, and slid into the booth. “Have you ordered?”
She stared at the package. “Just coffee.”
Saul made no effort to explain the package. Was it for her or just something he happened to have with him? Instead, he held up his finger and Angus sauntered over with a steaming coffee carafe and an empty cup dangling from his thumb.
“Morning, Mr. Levy,” Angus said cautiously. Saul simply nodded. It was still winter between them. “Miss Leona,” Angus’s smile pleaded for her help.
“Morning, Angus.” Leona shoved her drained cup his direction. She never would get used to seeing J.D.’s herringbone tweed every time she came in the diner for a bite to eat. But she believed in this boy, and she’d forgiven Angus for his involvement in the pot incident. Hopefully, Saul would follow her lead. “How’d your scholarship interview go?”
Worry knotted Angus’s brow. “I haven’t heard anything.”
She patted his hand. “You will.”
Angus tugged proudly at his jacket. “Until then, I’m dressing for success.” He set the coffee pot on the table and pulled a notepad out of his pocket. “Havin’ the usual this morning, Mr. Levy?”
“Yes,” Saul didn’t waste time on words and neither should she. If this meeting went as planned, he would officially become her legal counsel. His billing by the hour would most likely include today’s breakfast conference.
She closed the menu. “I’ll have what Mr. Levy is having.”
“Want your eggs scrambled or fried?” Angus asked Leona.
“However Mr. Levy likes them is fine with me.”
Angus got the hint that she was in a hurry and left them to their business.
“That boy deserves to go to school,” Leona told Saul as she watched him meticulously tear the top off a sugar packet and empty the contents into his coffee. “I want to help if he doesn’t get that scholarship.”
Saul stirred his coffee with one hand and slowly eased the brown package toward her with the other. “Read this first.”
So the package was for her. A gesture of kindness she was not expecting. “What is this?”
“A housewarming gift.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” She lifted the package and undid the simple coarse string. The paper fell away and revealed a hardcover book. “The Intelligent Investor?” She didn’t know whether to be offended or impressed he believed her capable of tackling a brick-sized volume on money management. “Not your usual coffee-table-kind-of-book.”
“It’s not for display.” Saul laid his spoon on a napkin. “I
t’s for your benefit.”
“I thought you said I was doing a good job managing J.D.’s investments.”
“You are.”
“Soooo ... why do I need this?”
“Everyone can profit from direction.”
“I’ll cherish it, I’m sure.” She slid the book under her purse, wondering what had happened to the easy banter they’d experienced over a broken jar of pickles. “Speaking of business, I’m anxious to get on with ours.”
Saul raised his cup and took a sip. “I’m listening.”
“I know you’re acting legal counsel for the hospital.” Pleased to show off her research skills, she waited to play her next card. Saul’s steely stare didn’t confirm her knowledge of his clientele one way or the other. Left with no choice, she played her ace. “I’d like to invest in the future of Mt. Hope’s little medical facility.”
“Invest?”
“Increase the services and medical care they currently offer to the residents of our rural county.”
“Specifically?” His eyes drilled her over his cup.
A few more details to support her position might be in order. Fortunately, she’d done her homework in the medical stats as well. “Diabetes rates are high in our largely rural county, especially among the poor. Medical care availability and quality are on the lower spectrum. Seriously ill patients must either drive to Dallas, Lubbock, or Amarillo.”
“I’m well aware of the burden.”
Was he? How? Why? Refusing to allow herself to be distracted, she tabled her questions and went in for the kill. “I want to change those odds.”
“How?”’
“Hire a maternal-fetal specialist.”
The slight stiffening of his posture was her only clue that he’d not seen this one coming. “Convincing the hospital to take on such an expense won’t be nearly as difficult as trying to convince a specialist to come to a sub-standard hospital with a less-than-desirable financial incentive of assisting the uninsured.”
Grateful that Maddie had warned her there would be impediments to her plan, she was ready for this argument as well. “Then we’ll have to sweeten the offer.”