Pastor Matthews nodded his head, indicated they should follow. “I have everything in my office, including diagrams for placing the system.”
“I’d prefer to look things over and make my own diagram,” Lucy informed him. She was ready to work on something that would engage her mind and keep her from thoughts that would only lead to trouble.
“What do you need?” the pastor asked as they walked through the door of his office.
“I’ll look at doors, windows, any point of entrance. We’ll need the best place for the keypad.”
She could hear women talking. She followed the sound to where the group sat together in a small living room. There were five women, with Bibles open. They looked up when she entered. Two quickly looked away, but not before she saw bruises.
It brought back memories—this place, the lost expressions, the bruises. As she stepped back into the office she ignored Dane.
“If you’ll give me a tour, I’ll start taking notes and diagramming placement. Dane can take whatever notes he needs for the electrical aspect of the system.”
The phone rang. Pastor Matthews gave them an apologetic look. “I have to get this.”
“I can walk her through it,” Dane offered.
The pastor was already reaching for his phone. Lucy headed for the door with Dane close behind. As she headed down the hall he caught up to her, tall, powerful, confident. Together they stepped outside, into bright sunlight.
It slayed her that with him close she felt a shift in who she was and what she’d believed about herself since she’d joined the Army at eighteen.
“I saw a Realtor pulling in your driveway this morning.” She said the first thing that came to mind, because equal footing was needed.
He gave her a long, careful look, his blue eyes searching hers.She wondered if he would make something up or tell the truth. She knew how to read body language, and his stance said he was being cautious.
Good for him.
“Did you?” he asked. It wasn’t really a question.
“I would have him take the signs off the doors if you don’t want everyone in town to know.” She changed the subject, for his sake, and proceeded to walk around the exterior of the building. Dane followed close behind.
“I worry about Issy,” he said finally. She had stopped walking and was studying a window, wondering if there was any part of this building that didn’t pose a threat.
“I think that’s only natural.”
“The school here is good. But I’m not sure if they’ll have a program or teachers for her.”
“I think by law they have to provide whatever resources are necessary.”
He took the end of the tape measure she held out for him.
“That’s what I’ve been told. But I want her to have more opportunities.” He narrowed the distance between them and his eyes, blue like a late summer day, held her attention. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”
“I’m not going to tell anyone. But tell your real estate agent to be more discreet.”
“I will. Thanks.”
He was planning to move. She told herself it didn’t matter. She hadn’t come home with any real plans for staying. Not indefinitely. Not in Bluebonnet.
So why did the idea of Dane and Issy leaving town bother her so much?
* * *
For the next half hour Dane followed Lucy as she took notes, made diagrams and talked to herself about the lack of security. This version of Lucy was more interesting than the girl he’d once known. She had layers. She was self-contained but loyal. She tried to keep herself separate from others but she couldn’t help but get involved.
Was it just a dozen years ago that he’d been convinced he would marry Lucy Palermo? At the time he’d wanted nothing more than to take her away from here. He’d wanted to rescue her from her father. He’d wanted to protect her.
After a while he’d chalked those emotions up to being a teenager with a hero complex. His parents, aware that he’d been secretly dating her, had explained that he was too young and inexperienced to handle someone who had been through everything Lucy had gone through. Wanting to rescue someone wasn’t the same as loving them. And in the end, she’d rescued herself by leaving town.
He thought back to the summer day when he’d met her at the back fence of the Palermo ranch. They’d brought a picnic lunch, and then they’d lain flat on their backs to stare up at the summer sky. The grass had been warm and smelled of sweet clover and dry earth. Their hands had touched, just the tips of their fingers making a connection that had seemed sweet.
“We should finish. I have to get lunch for Maria.”
Her words drew him back to the present. “Right.”
She walked through the common area, where a few women were sitting, the television on a morning news and entertainment program. She paused, just briefly, as one of the women mentioned that just once when her husband came at her, she wished she could give him a taste of what he’d been giving her.
Lucy kept walking. She knocked on Pastor Matthews’s office door, then entered when he called out that the door was open.
“You need to teach these women to defend themselves,” she said as she dropped her notes on his desk.
Pastor Matthews looked at her, then his gaze connected with Dane’s. Dane shrugged. He was only too happy to help the ministry. He’d give his time and expertise. But going head-to-head with Lucy was not on his list of things he wanted to do.
When she wanted something, he doubted seriously if she would back down. If she felt something was important, she was probably going to keep at it until she accomplished her goal. She was a survivor.
“I’m not sure about that,” Pastor Matthews began.
“Why not?” Lucy asked, taking a seat in the office. “I’m not encouraging fighting. I want to give them tools to protect themselves.”
“I’ll definitely consider it.”
“I’m willing to teach them,” Lucy offered. She glanced at her watch. “I have to get to Essie’s. But I’ll be back to install the system now that we have it planned out.”
“I’m heading to Essie’s myself, I’ll meet you there,” Dane chimed in.
What was he thinking? He’d practically invited her to lunch, which was the last thing he should be doing. Lucy stared at him as if he’d grown another head. And the good pastor wore an altogether too-amused look.
Fortunately Lucy didn’t answer. She shook her head, mumbled something about his sanity and walked out the door. He followed at a distance because it seemed a bit safer.
When they reached the parking lot, she got in her truck, started it and drove away. Dane laughed as he followed her. She’d made it obvious she wasn’t interested. He knew better than to pursue this. And yet, he was heading toward Essie’s with a determination he hadn’t felt in years.
If he had any sense at all, he’d drive on back to the ranch. He’d eat a bologna sandwich with Miss Lois and Issy. He’d make sure the mare with colic was still on the road to recovery because he didn’t want to lose her. Not only because of her value but because she had a sweet disposition and in time she’d make a good child’s horse.
Maybe he’d let Issy ride her. Someday.
Not that he really wanted to face that day. He knew he would have to let his daughter have her independence. He knew she’d have to go places without him. Someday she would date. Someday she would leave home. He kept telling himself he had time. And right now he wanted to keep her safe. Protect her.
His mom often told him it wasn’t bad to be a protector, as long as he understood that people didn’t always need protecting. Sometimes protection felt like suffocation.
He thought about Lucy’s plan to teach the women self-defense. He got it. Self-defense was a step toward independence for them.
<
br /> It would make them feel strong.
When had Lucy learned to protect herself?
Pulling up to Essie’s café, he parked his truck next to Lucy’s. She shot him a glowering look, the heat of it could be felt through both truck windows. She didn’t appreciate him being here. Rather than backing down, he winked at her and got out of his truck. She was already on the sidewalk but he noticed she didn’t stomp away, mad. Instead she slowed her steps, waiting for him.
“I’m not sure why you’re doing this,” she said quietly.
“Because a long time ago we were friends.”
She paused midstride. “Friends?”
Okay, they weren’t really friends. But they shared things friends would have shared. They told each other secrets. She’d told him things that he’d promised never to tell a soul. He wondered if anyone else knew those things about her.
“I’m not that girl anymore, Dane. We’re two completely different people. You have a daughter and you are a part of this community and this church. I avoid everything that has to do with church.”
He wanted to tell her she was more involved than she would admit. But she might run off, leaving Maria to her own devices.
He chose safer words. “We’re all different people, Lucy. Life does that to us. We learn things about ourselves and about other people, some of it good, some bad.”
He’d planned to be married forever. When he’d met Tamara in college he’d known they had nothing in common but he’d loved her, and he’d hoped—prayed—they would overcome the differences. He’d wanted a family, the ranch, church on Sundays. She’d wanted an apartment in the city, Sundays in bed and no children.
“You’re still following me,” she accused with a hint of humor in her voice.
“No, I’m walking next to you. There’s a subtle difference.”
A snuffle and oink behind them interrupted the conversation. He pulled Lucy to the edge of the sidewalk as the brown, potbellied pig ambled past, snuffling a bit at their legs before continuing on his journey.
“What was that?” She pulled her arm free from his hand.
“That would be Gatsby.” He reached for the door to Essie’s.
“Seriously, you’re going to tell me a pig named Gatsby just walked down the sidewalk, and then you’re going to act as if nothing happened?”
“Gatsby belongs to Homer Wilkins. Unfortunately Homer’s fence isn’t the best. Or maybe Gatsby is the greatest escape artist ever. Either way, the pig likes to take a stroll from time to time. He pilfers in gardens, digs up yards, and then he goes home. Or someone gathers him up and takes him home.”
“This doesn’t happen in Austin.”
“See what you’re missing out on living in the city,” he teased.
“See what you’ll be missing out on,” she said.
“Touché.”
“You might want to think about that, Dane. You love this town. Your daughter is loved here. Do you really want to take her away from this? For what? A better school?”
“Better opportunities,” he reminded her.
“Right, better opportunities.”
But her quietly spoken words fueled his indecision. Two weeks ago he’d thought he’d known exactly what he needed to do. Two weeks ago he’d thought he had everything planned.
He hadn’t considered that plans could change in an instant. Because of a woman with haunted eyes and a hesitant smile.
The words from moments ago took a crazy twist in his mind. Because standing in front of him was a woman that made him think about everything he’d been missing out on.
Chapter Seven
Dane woke up early Friday morning. A little hand patted his face. Then a little voice whispered something about pancakes. He cracked open one eye and squinted at the barely there light shining through the blinds. His daughter’s internal clock didn’t always work the way it should. Sometimes he hoped for more than five hours of sleep a night.
“Too early, Issy.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, then squirmed her way onto the bed to sit on the edge, feet dangling over the side. “I had a bad dream.”
“Did you?” He lifted his arm and cuddled her close.
She nodded. “I dreamed I ate pickles. And a bug.”
“That is a bad dream. Do you think you can go back to sleep?”
She shook her head.
“Okay, pancakes it is.”
The life of a single dad. He smiled as he carried her down the hall a few minutes later. She was half-asleep, her head on his shoulder. The burst of energy that had woken her at five in the morning seemed to be short-lived.
“Want to lie on the couch while I cook?”
She nodded but her arms remained tight around his neck.
“Don’t let go, Daddy,” she said in a quiet, sleepy voice.
He sat down, holding her tight, rocking in the recliner just enough to keep her sleeping.
“Sing,” she whispered.
One foot on the floor, the other crossed over his knee, he kept the motion of the chair going while he sang about buying her a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird didn’t sing, he would buy her a diamond ring. His voice sounded too loud in the quiet of early morning, even though he did his best to sing quietly.
Issy didn’t seem to mind. Before long her little body felt heavy against him and her breathing slowed. He kept up the rocking motion, unwilling to get up or let go. He knew it would come, that day in the future when he would have to let go. He knew he would never stop protecting her. But he would have to let go.
For some reason his thoughts shifted to Lucy Palermo. It seemed dangerous in the stillness of early morning to have her on his mind. He shook his head to clear the thoughts away.
“Someone wake up early?”
The whisper didn’t startle him. Haven almost always got up early. Either she would have a morning shift at the hospital or she would saddle her mare and go for a long ride. This morning she was dressed for riding. Her hair, curly like Issy’s, was pulled back with a headband. Her jeans were tucked into riding boots.
“She thought it was breakfast time. She fell back to sleep before we could make pancakes.”
Haven sat on the edge of the sofa, toying with her headband for a minute before giving him a long, careful look.
“You looked pretty ferocious when I came in. Everything okay?” his sister asked.
“It’s good. I was just thinking.” He didn’t want to admit that his thoughts had taken him down a dead end path, straight to Lucy.
“About the ranch?”
“Among other things.” He couldn’t remember a time the two of them hadn’t shared. He knew her secrets. She knew that he didn’t hide much. Right now, he didn’t feel like sharing. He didn’t know how to explain that Lucy’s return had taken him by surprise.
“The people who came by yesterday seemed pretty interested.”
His daughter shifted in his arms but her eyes remained closed. “Are you having second thoughts?”
She shrugged. They were partners in the ranch, although nursing was her real love. She loved helping people. And he could tell from the look in her eyes that she had zeroed in on him as if he was the one in need of healing.
“We don’t have to sell,” he told her. “We have a good foreman and good ranch hands. I could rent a place in Austin.”
“What do you want?” Haven asked. “Because if you’re not happy, she won’t be happy, either.”
The question stirred some unexpected thoughts in his mind. When he looked up, his sister pinned him with a knowing gaze. Well, that was unfortunate.
“I’m praying, Haven. That’s all I can do for now. This ranch is part of our heritage and it’s in our blood. But when I think about the future, I think about what
I can give my daughter that will make her life easier.”
“I know you’re torn. I’m sorry.” She gave him a quick hug. “I’m going riding. I won’t make this any harder on you, but I am going to point something out. I don’t think you had any second thoughts about selling until Lucy Palermo came back into town.”
“Thanks for pointing that out. You’re not turning matchmaker on me, are you?”
“Not at all. I’m never getting married. Why should I push the institution on my brother?”
“Remember, I already gave marriage a go and it wasn’t a success.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“Said like a truly loyal sibling.” He would have walked away from the conversation but for the sleeping little girl in his arms. His sister, when she had something on her mind, could be like a dog with a bone. She wasn’t going to give up. He wasn’t going to escape.
“Have you talked to Mom and Dad lately?”
Their parents were always a good way to change subjects. She wagged her finger at him.
“Yes, and nice try. I’m going up to Dallas to see them this weekend. I’ll probably stay several days. If Lois can’t watch Issy, maybe Maria can help out?”
“Yes, she’s willing to watch her anytime. She’s good with her.”
“Maria?”
“Yes, Maria.”
Haven chuckled. “Just remember, all work and no play makes my brother old before his time.”
He could say the same about his sister but he knew her heartache. He hadn’t suffered the same pain. He hadn’t been broken the way she’d been broken. That she was whole today, or mostly whole, was a tribute to her faith and her strength.
“I’m happy,” he told her. “I have Issy and the ranch. That’s all I need right now.”
For the past couple of years it had been plenty. He’d been content. He’d always told himself that if he lost that contentment he would consider changes.
“Yes, that’s all you need.” Haven appeared to agree. “Until it isn’t.” She left him sitting, giving a salute as she headed outside.
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