Words. Words took pieces from an already-broken heart, ripped at a wounded soul and left scars no one could see.
Words would always hurt.
Her vision narrowed as she took another deep breath.
“I have to go.”
Pastor Matthews offered her a grim smile. “Too much?”
She focused her sight on the door, her escape route. Always know where the exits are, a safety tip they stressed in their bodyguard business. “I think so. I do appreciate what you’re trying to do here.”
“If you need us, we’re here.”
“I’m good but thank you.” Her vision clouded as she hurried through those double doors at the front of the church.
She ran straight into Dane Scott as he was coming up the steps of the church. “Whoa.”
His hands steadied her.
She blinked back tears. She didn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry. Instead she brushed off his hands and kept walking. If she had any sense left at all she would get in her truck and head back to Austin and a job that would keep her mind busy.
She stopped midway to her truck, bending at the waist, taking deep breaths to ease the tension in her lungs. A hand on her back rubbed slow circles. She shook her head but he wouldn’t leave. Why wouldn’t he leave?
“Take slow breaths.” His voice rumbled close to her ear.
“Go away,” she rasped out, trying but not quite managing to sound like herself.
He laughed. “That’s the Lucy we all know and love.”
“Take a hike, Scott.”
“Right. As soon as I make sure you’re not going to pass out on the church steps.”
She stiffened beneath his touch. “I don’t pass out.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“Neighbors don’t get in a person’s business. You are getting in my business.” She still couldn’t look at him.
“Yeah, I guess that must mean we’re friends. Everyone needs friends.” He stood close, his shoulder against hers. She’d felt chilled but his nearness brought a warmth. Someone recently had told her everyone needed human touch. Of course she’d debated the fact.
“I have friends,” she argued. She nearly thanked him for the disagreement. Anything to take her mind off the panic that had edged in.
“Look, if it makes you happy, I’m not thrilled with the idea of friendship. Really. You’re not pleasant. You rarely stick around. Not exactly the best qualities in a friend. But here we are.”
“You obviously can’t take a hint.”
“Rarely,” he said in a teasing voice that made her smile. Not a full smile, though. She wouldn’t give him that.
Instead she moved away from his hand that was all too comforting. “I have to go.”
“Of course you do.”
She faced him, noticing the teasing glint in his too-blue eyes.
“I think I’ve proven that I’m not quite ready to go in there. And seriously, Dane Scott, if this gets out, I’m coming after you.”
“You mean if people find out you’re human?” He winked. “We wouldn’t want the whole world to know that, would we?”
“No, we wouldn’t. I’ve worked hard at...” What had she meant to say? And why was she saying anything to him? Because he was easy to talk to, she remembered. She’d made that discovery at sixteen, telling him everything she’d never planned on telling anyone. “I’ve worked hard at letting go and moving on.”
The teasing glint faded from his eyes and was replaced with something softer, warmer. “Sometimes facing our fears makes us stronger.”
She wanted to hurt him. Really, was he going to be tender? Like she was his young daughter waking up from a bad dream?
She didn’t want tenderness. Or sympathy. She backed away from him. “Fine, I’ll go back inside. But I don’t need you there to hold my hand.”
He held up both hands. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Friend.”
“Neighbor,” she mumbled as she walked away.
* * *
Dane followed Lucy inside the church. He shouldn’t have. He should have gotten back to work. He was planning on replacing light fixtures in the dorms that had been created in the old Sunday school rooms. Instead he walked behind her, ignoring the tense set of her shoulders and the fact that she didn’t want him along for this journey.
He couldn’t stop himself, though. Even with her quills up, Lucy had an easy way about her. She had a sense of humor, an easy smile, and she was kind. They were parts of her personality she didn’t seem comfortable with. He shouldn’t be comfortable with them, either, because those parts drew him to her, and that was the last thing he needed.
“Stop thinking about me.” She shot the comment over her shoulder as she walked through the kitchen. “I’m not a project. I don’t need to be fixed. Go do whatever good deed you were going to do here today, Dane.”
He stepped next to her as she stood, surveying the homey kitchen Pastor Matthews and his wife, Amy, had created in this church. “I’m replacing light fixtures and repairing some sockets. You’re not on my ‘to do’ list.”
“Thank goodness for that,” she said as she kept walking. “The kitchen is nice.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I’m glad this church is being used this way. Definitely not what my father would have wanted.”
“It’s a good ministry and they are having some success helping women to get out of abusive situations. They also try to find counseling for the husbands.”
“There are always going to be women who won’t walk away from the abuse.”
“That’s true,” he stated.
“Life doesn’t come with guarantees. Or maybe there is one. We all have our baggage. You included.” She shot him a look.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Me included.”
“Issy’s mom?”
“She left when Issy was a year old. Fortunately my daughter won’t remember her mother walking out on us.”
“No, she won’t. But you will.” She stopped and faced him. “She has you, Dane. That’s more than a lot of kids have.”
“Yeah, she has me.” But that hadn’t been the plan. He’d considered himself a part of a couple. Only to learn he wasn’t, and now he was a single dad.
He led her to the nursery that also served as a makeshift day care. There were two little girls playing with blocks as one of the older church members, Mrs. Gilly, watched over them.
“Their moms either have jobs or are out finding jobs, if they can,” Dane explained to Lucy as she glanced around the brightly painted room. “Ladies from church volunteer to watch their children.”
She watched the children play, tossed a quick nod to Mrs. Gilly, then she left. Dane followed her into the hall and didn’t ask if she was okay. He already knew the answer and knew she wouldn’t want to admit out loud that she felt as if she was coming apart on the inside.
He led her down the hall to the living area. It was empty other than a big gray cat sprawled on the window seat. She approached the long-haired feline and, with her gaze focused on a distant hill, she ran a hand down the animal’s back.
“I should go now. Maria will wonder if I’ve left the county.” She glanced back at him. “With good reason. Since I’ve done it before. And since our mother does it on a regular basis.”
“I think you had good reason for leaving,” he offered.
The cat stood, stretched and brushed against her hand. “Maybe, but now I need to be here. Did you ever consider leaving?”
“I went to college, got a degree and came home to run the ranch. My folks moved to Dallas soon after. Dad has Parkinson’s.”
She nodded, because of course she knew all of that. “I’m not sure why we keep our ranch,” she admitted with a slight shrug. Then she headed for the door that led o
utside and he followed. “Mom obviously doesn’t want it. The boys are too busy riding bulls. I haven’t wanted to be here.”
“The twins will grow up, and then they’ll feel differently. You might feel differently.”
The sun beat down on them as they stood on the patio. It was May and it was already miserably hot. The woman standing next to him didn’t seem to notice. She pushed the sunglasses off the top of her head and positioned them to cover her eyes.
“Yes, maybe I’ll feel differently someday.” Lucy glanced at her watch. “I have to go. Thank you for the tour.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll walk you to your truck.”
She gave him a hard stare. “I don’t need an escort to my truck.”
“No, you don’t. I offered because I want to walk you to your truck.”
She pulled back a bit, and he knew he’d messed up.
“No,” she repeated. “I appreciate the tour and it was nice to catch up.”
He got it. She was giving him the brush-off. “Lucy, you don’t have to worry. I’m not looking to start anything.”
“Good to know,” she said. “So, I’ll walk myself to my truck.”
He tipped his hat, conceding something that felt a bit like defeat. That was the last thing he expected to feel as she walked away.
Chapter Five
Lucy grabbed a bag of grain off the back of her truck and carried it into the feed room. When she walked back out of the stable, Maria was waiting for her. The youngest Palermo was leaning against the truck, a hand on her belly, the warm Texas breeze blowing her hair.
It was Thursday and after nearly a week home, they were falling into a routine. Lucy made frequent trips to town for supplies. Maria thought about food. A lot.
“Did you bring me lunch?” Maria asked. The poodle ran out from under the truck and started to yap.
Lucy pointed at the dog and he plopped to the ground, whimpering as he buried his nose in his paws. Maria looked from the dog to Lucy and back to the dog.
“How did you do that?”
Lucy shrugged. “I’m mean. And yeah, I did bring you lunch. How are you feeling?”
“Horrible. Did Aunt Essie tell you that they’re having a workday Saturday? At the church?”
“No. Should she have told me?”
“I guess not. I just thought she might have mentioned it. I plan on going. I usually help out in the nursery. Dane feels better if I’m with Issy. He has a hard time leaving her.” As she talked, Maria rummaged in the truck finding the to-go container from the café. She lifted the lid and inhaled before heading to sit on the bench at the side of the stable.
Calling it a stable seemed a bit of a stretch. The metal building had stalls, storage rooms and an attached outdoor arena. But there were pieces of sheet metal missing from the roof, compliments of last year’s too-close-for-comfort tornado.
She eyed her sister, sitting with the foam container on her lap. Maria grinned as she dug into Essie’s homemade enchiladas.
“Oh, by the way, Dane is bringing Issy over for me to babysit her.”
“Why?” Lucy grabbed another feed sack and headed for the door.
“I told you. I babysit her. You don’t listen.”
Lucy carried the feed sack inside, dumped it in the feed room and headed back outside. She sat down next to Maria.
“I listen. You said Dane trusts you with Issy. You didn’t mention watching her today.”
“Oh, sorry.” Maria shoved another bite of food into her mouth. “We were talking about the church.”
“Right, and how you volunteer in the nursery.”
Maria nodded, but then turned a bit green. She jumped up, hand to her mouth, and ran for the bathroom at the other end of the stable.
Lucy followed, the poodle keeping step with her, barking and yipping the entire time, its long, gray curls looking the worse for having rolled in something less than pleasant on the ranch. Maria was sitting on the dirt floor of the stable, head resting on knees that were drawn to her chest.
Lucy sank down next to her. She put an awkward arm around her younger sister and drew her close. They weren’t an affectionate family, she realized as they sat there together. She couldn’t remember their parents ever hugging. The closest they’d come to affection had been the nights Maria had crawled into bed with Lucy.
“So, we need to make a doctor’s appointment.” Lucy repeated what their aunt had told her. “And we need to eat healthier.”
“Did you buy a pregnancy book?” Maria asked as she leaned in close.
“Aunt Essie texted me a list,” Lucy admitted. “Are you drinking plenty of water?”
“I’m drinking water. Actually I do have a book.”
They sat in silence for a while. The poodle crawled onto Maria’s lap and dozed. Birds swooped through the stable, building nests on support beams.
“I’m sorry,” Maria whispered against Lucy’s shoulder.
“For what?”
Maria shrugged but didn’t move out of Lucy’s embrace.
“For everything. For getting pregnant. For dragging you away from your life. I know you don’t want to be here. If Mom had stayed...”
“Don’t apologize. We’ll figure this out.”
“I know, but this is the last place you want to be,” Maria continued, forcing Lucy to have a conversation she wanted to avoid.
Lucy took a deep breath and nodded. Her sister knew, so there was no use lying. Not to herself or to Maria.
“It’s the last place I wanted to be. But it’s the only place I would choose to be right now.” She shrugged. “It is surprisingly not horrible.”
Maria pulled away from her. “At least you’re not getting all warm and fuzzy. If you did, then I would really start to worry.”
“No need to worry about me being warm and fuzzy.” Lucy stood and held a hand out to pull Maria to her feet.
As they walked back out into bright sunlight, a truck pulled down the drive and parked. Maria giggled just a little.
“You carved his name in your dresser, didn’t you?” Maria asked.
“It was a lifetime ago. But yeah, when I was young and foolish.”
Dane helped Issy out of the truck, and then headed their way.
“End of conversation,” Lucy warned.
Maria zipped her lips but the twinkle in her eyes said this was far from over.
“Dane, I didn’t expect you this early,” Maria said.
Dane hefted a bag over his arm, a frilly pink bag with flowers and lace. He held Issy’s hand and she navigated the turf with careful steps. Her smile was bright and her sweet face was framed in unruly blond curls.
“If you don’t mind a few extra hours, I need to drive up to Killeen for some supplies for the shelter.” He looked down at his little girl. “If it’s too much, Issy can go with me.”
“Of course it isn’t a problem,” Maria answered. Lucy wanted to chime in that it was a problem.
She’d come home for her sister but she hadn’t expected to get dragged back into small town life. She hadn’t expected Dane. Or a little girl with blond curls and a captivating smile. She definitely hadn’t expected to remember why she’d carved Dane’s name in her dresser.
This was not the nice, neat package she liked to call life. This was messy. She didn’t do messy.
Dane cleared his throat, jerking her attention back to him, to the questioning look in his eyes. The corner of his mouth tilted up ever so slightly. Fear tangled up inside her, because she didn’t know what was more intimidating, the little girl or her father.
“Is it a problem?” He left the question dangling.
“Of course not.” She glanced back at Maria already taking Issy by the hand and leading her to the house. It seemed that her little sister
was more than up for this job. Lucy would rather be on a security detail. A job that seemed far less intimidating than caring for a small child.
“She’s a great babysitter so you shouldn’t have to worry about a thing.”
“I’m not worried. Do I look worried?”
He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yes, Lucy, you look worried.”
“Well, I’m not.” She could handle a tiny person being in their home.
He glanced at his watch. “I’ll try not to be gone too long. Also, I’m buying a security system for the shelter. Pastor Matthews wanted me to ask if you have any suggestions.”
“I’ve helped to install a few systems. I can do a little research and text you the information.”
“Thank you. And would you help install it Saturday?”
That’s the way a person got dragged in. Because she couldn’t say no. She couldn’t tell them that she wasn’t interested in their church or the shelter. Protection was her business. And protecting the women at the shelter was important.
“I’ll help.”
“Thank you.”
Lucy watched as he drove away, and then she headed for the house. She found Maria and Issy inside. They were sitting on the living room floor stacking blocks. Issy giggled when Maria handed her a block and said, “Oh, this is red. It’s hot.”
The block tumbled from tiny hands. Maria replaced it with a blue one. “This is blue. It’s cold.”
Issy tossed the block and yelled that her hands were freezing. The dog started to bark and Lucy pointed, sending the animal back to his dog bed.
“Want to play with us, Lucy?” Maria asked, sprawling on the floor like an overgrown kid. Lucy guessed that wasn’t far from the truth.
“I have to feed, but then I’ll come in and we’ll play.”
“Issy and I like to dance,” Maria offered, because she knew that Lucy didn’t have a clue. She’d had younger siblings but as an adult she’d had little interaction with children.
They frightened her. She didn’t want to admit that. She didn’t want to admit that she thought they were breakable. They were also unpredictable.
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