Hill Country Redemption

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Hill Country Redemption Page 20

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter


  “That’s better.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Now that that’s settled, do you know what you’re going to do about the rodeo?”

  “I only considered Mesquite because I wanted to run—from you. Same thing with selling the rodeo.”

  “No more running.”

  “The only thing I plan to run is our rodeo. Right here in Medina.” She set her hand on the cash box. “I’m dying to know how we did tonight.”

  “It doesn’t matter. We won the greatest prize of all.” He kissed her again. Until she forgot all about the rodeo.

  Epilogue

  The grand opening of the indoor arena was off the charts as Garrett Steele and Brant McConnell wrapped up their final song. Her dream come true. The complex was immaculate, with bleacher seating and all of the sponsor signs they’d worked so hard to get in place.

  “This place is practically standing room only.” Larae sat astride her horse outside the arena with Rance by her side. “I hope it’s like this when we don’t have big-name singers.”

  “Good news.” He stroked Molly’s velvety cheek. “Garrett said he and Brant are retiring from touring. Sounds like they’re interested in alternating weekends here with us.”

  “That would be awesome.”

  “They said to call their agent this week and work out the details.”

  “Jayda’s waving from the concession stand.” She waved back, and Rance did, too. The only person happier than they were was Jayda, who was past ready for a wedding, anticipating being able to wear the bracelet Rance had bought her.

  The first notes of “God Bless the U.S.A.” started up.

  “That’s your cue.”

  The gate opened, and Molly vaulted into the arena as Garrett Steele sang the patriotic words. The music built, and she rounded the arena faster and faster, then sped to the center as the final chorus ended. The arena went silent for a few seconds until “The Star-Spangled Banner” started up. Everyone stood and placed their hands on their hearts as Garrett’s rich baritone did the anthem justice.

  The song ended, and she turned Molly toward the exit.

  “Hold up, Larae.” Denny’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “We’ve got one more special treat for y’all here at our grand opening tonight. Give our rodeo queen, Miss Larae Collins, the little lady who made all of this possible, a big round of applause.”

  The crowd clapped and whooped as she waved. Movement at the gate caught her eye. Rance was walking toward her, with one of the hands.

  “Just stay put,” Denny instructed.

  “What’s going on?” she mumbled. But with no microphone and the cheering of the crowd, no one heard her.

  Molly shifted her weight, not used to standing in the arena for so long.

  The hand reached for her flag, and Rance gestured for her to climb down. She did, and the hand took Molly’s reins and walked her toward the exit.

  “What are you doing?”

  Rance grinned and spoke into a handheld microphone. “Ten years ago, I fell in love with a rodeo queen.”

  Why was he telling the crowd that?

  “Back then, she ran barrels, and I rode broncs. We worked in the concession stand together and stole kisses around the side of it.” Laughter swept over the crowd. “Life happened, like it tends to do, and we ended up going our separate ways. Now that rodeo queen owns this rodeo, and I’m a stock contractor. We work in the concession stand together, and I’m still in love with her.”

  A flush warmed her face.

  “And the really good news is, she’s still in love with me.” He dug in his pocket, pulled out a velvet box and dropped to one knee.

  Larae’s breath froze in her lungs as the crowd went wild.

  “Larae Collins, will you do me the honor of finally marrying me?”

  She nodded, tears threatening to cut off any words.

  But he stuck the microphone in her face.

  “Yes.” It came out soggy but audible.

  The crowd erupted as he slipped the ring on her finger, then stood, picked her up and twirled her around.

  When he set her down, she was dizzy and weak-kneed.

  “I may have swept her off her feet.” He steadied her and pulled her into his arms as whistles and whoops echoed around them.

  Once she recovered her balance, they walked hand in hand to the exit.

  Workers, competitors and spectators congratulated them as they made their way out of the arena and toward the concession stand.

  Jayda vaulted toward them, and Rance knelt to pick her up. “Y’all are finally getting married.”

  “We sure are, Baby Girl.”

  “When, Mommy? When?”

  “I’m not sure, sweetie, but you can be our flower girl.”

  “Yay.”

  They reached the concession stand, and Rance set Jayda down. “You go on. We’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Where are y’all going, Daddy?”

  “I’m gonna steal some kisses from Mommy.” He tugged Larae around the side of the stand.

  Jayda giggled and disappeared inside.

  “Just to clear things up, you’ve never had to steal my kisses.” Larae stood on tiptoe.

  He claimed her lips, soft and slow, then pulled back. “Big wedding or small?”

  “Small. Family and close friends. At our church.”

  “Let’s do this wedding thing tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “I’m tired of waiting.”

  “It’s only been two months since we officially got back together.”

  “You’re wrong, Larae Collins. I’ve been waiting for you for eight years.”

  “Then let’s not wait any longer. If the church is available, tomorrow is the perfect day for a wedding.”

  “Good answer.” He claimed her lips again.

  And his kiss erased eight years of heartache.

  * * *

  Look for the next book in

  the Hill Country Cowboys series

  by Shannon Taylor Vannatter,

  available July 2020 wherever

  Harlequin Love Inspired books

  and ebooks are sold.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from An Amish Easter Wish by Jo Ann Brown.

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  An Amish Easter Wish

  by Jo Ann Brown

  Chapter One

  Evergreen Corners, Vermont

  “Is he here yet?” Abby Kauffman called.

  The freezer couldn’t have picked a worse time to stop working. Supper must be served in three hours, and nothing was started. Worse, tonight was supposed to be a festive gathering for the local teen volunteers and their families, as well as those from Amish Helping Hands who’d come to help rebuild the small town.

  Abby scanned the list of food stored in the freezer and sighed. It might not be an accurate list because she and the other volunteers working in the community center’s kitchen had made it from memory. Nobody wanted to lift the top of the chest freezer and peer inside to count the boxes of meat and frozen vegetables and tomato sauce. A specific inventory wasn’t necessary. With hundreds of dollars of donated food inside the freezer, every minute counted.

  She went to the wide pass-through window from the kitchen to the main room of the community center. A trio of young people were lounging among the collection of mismatched tables and chairs where the volunteers had their meals. She’d lost count of the number of breakfasts, lunches and suppers they’d served since the October flood five months ago had washed away houses and businesses along Washboard
Brook and damaged more buildings farther from its banks.

  So tonight, in addition to the ten to fifteen volunteers who needed to be fed at each meal, there would be almost twice that number joining them for a roast beef dinner with the fixings. The meat had been thawed, but the volunteers’ favorite part of the meal—the pies—were in the freezer. Digging through the containers inside to find the unbaked pies would mean allowing precious cold air to escape, threatening the rest of the food stored in the chest freezer.

  Where was the repairman? She’d found his name on a list in the community center office and called. He’d said he’d be there as soon as he could, and that had been almost two hours ago.

  She put her hands on the counter and looked toward the door. When she hit her head on the pass-through, she grimaced and rubbed her heart-shaped white kapp. She was only a few inches over five feet tall, so she wasn’t used to having to duck. One of these days, she was going to remember how low the top of the window was and stop bumping her head on it.

  How she wished she could be more like her older brother! Isaac never overlooked a single detail about anything. She’d heard one of the residents of their small Vermont town, far to the north of Evergreen Corners, describe her brother as having a laser focus. She couldn’t agree more. When Isaac was involved, nobody had to worry about the smallest item being forgotten.

  Isaac was at home on the family farm, and she was working in the community center kitchen in Evergreen Corners for at least the next six weeks. If needed, she would stay on, though that might not make her family happy. She couldn’t walk away when people needed her here. Since her daed had recently remarried, she no longer had to take care of the household as she’d done since her mamm’s death almost twenty years ago. Her stepmother, Lovina, was a skilled cook and housekeeper who could handle everything on her own.

  And, more important, in Evergreen Corners, Abby could avoid anyone who reminded her of the worst days of her life, days after her selfishness almost caused a young man’s death. Busying herself with work allowed her to pay forward to others the blessing she’d been given, a blessed reprieve when the young man recovered. She kept on working, day after day, because she couldn’t forget her guilt about how her foolish decision had nearly led to tragedy.

  “Is he here yet?” Abby called again as she came out into the main room.

  As if on cue, the outside door opened. A man she didn’t know stepped in. Seeing he carried a battered metal toolbox, she opened her mouth to tell him to hurry to the kitchen and check the freezer before the food began to defrost, but no sound emerged as she stared.

  He moved with the ease of a man who was comfortable with his long limbs. His shoulders were muscular beneath his unzipped coat. Black hair was ruffled by the cap he’d removed as he’d entered, and a single curl dropped across his forehead toward his full eyebrows. His eyes, as brilliant blue as a spring sky, looked around the room.

  “Are you the repairman?” Abby managed to ask before his gaze reached her. She scolded herself for reacting like a hormonal teenager at the sight of a gut-looking man.

  And an Englischer at that!

  Isaac would be more than annoyed if he heard she was gawking at an Englischer with her mouth open like a fish pulled from a pond.

  The man glanced her way. He took note of her plain clothes and kapp, and his assertive brows lowered in a frown. However, his voice, as he spoke, was a pleasant baritone. “I’m David Riehl.” He crossed the room and held out a business card with words and logo to match the ones embroidered on his coat. “Riehl’s Appliance Repair.”

  Startled how her fingers trembled as she reached for the card, Abby nodded. Again, she didn’t trust her voice. She stored the card in the pocket of the black apron covering her dark green dress and motioned toward the kitchen. She walked in that direction, aware with every molecule how David followed a few paces behind her.

  As they entered the kitchen, voices burst out behind her. Had the teenagers waiting to hear where they were working today gone silent when David entered, or had she been so focused on the handsome man that her other senses had stopped working?

  Abby gave her thoughts a gut shake. She should be thinking of one thing: getting the freezer fixed. She stepped aside as he put his toolbox on the floor and walked around the freezer that sat in ominous silence. When he asked about the brand and model number, she answered, glad he hadn’t yanked up the top to look.

  Her shoulders eased from their taut line. David Riehl of Riehl’s Appliance Repair knew what he was doing. Sending up a quick prayer of thanks, she watched as he put his hand on the freezer. She guessed he was searching for any vibration to give him a clue why the freezer wasn’t working.

  “When did you notice a problem?” he asked, not looking at her.

  “It was running this morning. Then the compressor stopped, and it didn’t start again.”

  “That could be caused by a few things, but let’s look at the obvious ones first.” He pulled a small flashlight from beneath his coat and switched it on. “I’ll check the evaporator coils first. Dust and dirt get on them. It’s almost like you’re suffocating the unit because moisture can’t evaporate. That may keep the compressor from starting.”

  “Our kitchen is clean.”

  He arched his brows before squatting to peer behind the freezer. “Even the best housekeepers forget to keep the coils clean.”

  “Or sweep under the refrigerator.”

  “Exactly.” He tilted his head and glanced at her with a cool smile. “I don’t mean to insult you or any of the volunteers. We appreciate you coming here to help.” He shifted the flashlight to examine the freezer from another angle. “Looks pretty dust-free.”

  Straightening, he moved around to the other side and reached to pull the plug out of its outlet.

  “Must you unplug it?” Abby asked.

  “If I don’t want to get zapped, yes.” When he smiled this time, it wasn’t as icy as the interior of the freezer should have been. She wouldn’t describe his expression as warm, but at least it seemed genuine. “Don’t worry. It won’t take long to do a diagnostic on the freezer, and you said when you called the shop the contents are tightly packed. That should keep them cold far longer than you expect.”

  “I hope so.”

  When David didn’t answer but bent to unscrew an access panel on the side of the freezer, Abby knew she was in the way. He didn’t need her standing behind him, watching everything he did.

  She went to the two stoves and turned the ovens to 325 degrees. The beef roasts cooked in aluminum foil at a low temperature, giving the juices time to mix with onion soup mix and mushrooms to flavor the roast. On the table, four pans she’d lined with foil waited. Putting meat in each pan, she began to slice the mushrooms she’d washed before she realized the freezer was silent. She’d taken packets of onion soup mix from the pantry and was opening them when David spoke.

  “Looks like you’ve got a bad thermostat.” He put an electronic tester in his toolbox. Standing, he added, “I brought one along because that’s a pretty common problem with older chest freezers.”

  “Is it quick to fix?” She sprinkled the mix over the meat and mushrooms.

  He nodded. “Your freezer should be working in about fifteen minutes. I’ll be right back.”

  “Thank the gut Lord,” she breathed with relief as he left. When was the last time she’d taken a complete breath? Since the freezer had stopped working? Since David had walked through the door?

  She was startled by that thought. He was an Englischer and terse almost to the point of being rude. Because he was easy on the eyes didn’t mean she should see him as anyone other than skilled hands to get the freezer working again. She was glad she wasn’t watching the door when it opened and his strong, assertive footsteps crossed the tiled floor.

  He didn’t say anything as he went to the freezer and knelt beside it. His broa
d hands navigated the small space afforded by the access panel as he removed the useless thermostat.

  Abby averted her gaze again. She shouldn’t be studying each of his motions, though she was fascinated by his knowledge of how the wires should be handled. Now wasn’t the time to ask her usual questions about the way things worked.

  The front door opened again and a cacophony of footsteps burst into the community room.

  She smiled, knowing more of the teenage volunteers had arrived. On any day, about a half dozen boys and girls offered their time to assist the adult volunteers. She knew they wished they could climb on rafters to raise roofs or use the excavation machinery. However, the policies of Amish Helping Hands and the Mennonite Disaster Service and other organizations limited the teens to working on the ground. They could climb a ladder to paint a ceiling, but nothing more dangerous.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” asked Jack Gundersen as he stretched through the pass-through window to peer into the kitchen. The teen, who’d been one of the first to ask to help with rebuilding houses swept away by the flood, hadn’t lost his enthusiasm in spite of weeks of hard work. He and his best friend, Reece Maddox, put in several hours of work each day after school and on Saturdays.

  Abby smiled at the boys. Anyone looking at them might dismiss them as trouble because of their tattoos and cropped hair, but she’d come to see they had generous hearts. She didn’t understand why anyone would ink their arms with identical verses from Proverbs 17, as the boys had done. Yet she admired their faith and friendship that had led them to put the words A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity on the insides of their forearms.

  “Something went wrong with the freezer,” she said in answer to Jack’s question. “The thermostat. It’s getting fixed by—”

  “Hi, Mr. Riehl!” called Reece, leaning next to his friend on the counter. “Anything we can do to help?”

  “Just finishing,” David said without looking at them. “But thanks.”

 

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