by Stacy Henrie
Except Tex was leaving.
She wanted to ignore that fact, to shove it to the back of her mind, as she’d been able to do for a short time while they’d been talking last night. When he’d told her on the porch that he had left his heart with her, she had let herself believe for a moment that the future held more than another painful goodbye for them. And yet, the fear of trusting him fully had stopped her from kissing him or allowing herself to believe he might still care as much as he once had for her.
“You’re quiet,” Tex said, nudging her lightly with his shoulder. “Are you wishing I’d stayed behind?”
Gathering her courage, Ravena linked her arm with his. “Not at all. I’m glad you came, Tex. Truly.”
The grin he threw her warmed her more thoroughly than the summer sunshine. She resolved to simply enjoy the day. There would be time enough for tears and farewells later in the week. In this moment, though, she would choose to be content with what she had right now.
* * *
Tex’s heart resembled a kicking mule as he ducked into the church behind Ravena and the children. Despite the open windows, the main room felt stifling. He stuck a finger between his collar and his throat, desperate for more air. But he lowered his hand and pasted on a false smile when Ravena shot him a questioning look.
He followed them into a middle pew and took a seat. The children separated him from Ravena, and for a brief moment, he wished he were sitting right next to her as he had on the wagon. He would slip his hand into hers and relish the brightness of her smile and the way her dress enhanced the color of her cheeks. Or maybe that was the effect of his compliment earlier.
Tex found himself smiling with sincerity at the thought. She’d practically robbed him of breath when he’d turned around and seen her standing there in her Sunday finery, wisps of dark hair curling around her face.
The church began to fill, pulling Tex’s attention to the other members of the congregation—and back to his underlying fears of being recognized as the Texas Titan. He bounced his leg in apprehension, especially when he noticed several familiar faces among the older people entering the church. Too bad he hadn’t opted to wear his hat, then he wouldn’t feel so visible and unprotected. Of course it wasn’t like Quincy would be looking for him here, but he still felt vulnerable.
The children seemed to be whispering something to each other before Ginny, who was seated next to him, motioned for him to lean down. “Miss Ravena wonders if you can stop shaking the bench,” she whispered in his ear.
Too late Tex realized his leg had been bouncing faster and faster. He stopped fidgeting and threw Ravena a chagrinned look, then whispered back to Ginny, “I will.” He watched with amusement as his message passed from one child to the next until Fanny loudly proclaimed it to Ravena and anyone else listening.
“Thank you,” Ravena mouthed, her lips tugging upward.
He tipped his head in acknowledgment, even as he began drumming his fingers on the arm of the pew. If he made it through the entire service without someone shouting out who he was, he’d be as wrung out as a dry rag.
The services began, but Tex could hardly concentrate. He didn’t know the words of the opening hymn, though it did sound familiar. Instead of singing along, he took the opportunity to glance about him again. A man a few rows back stared hard at him. When Tex looked away, he found a woman and her daughter watching him carefully too. Panic rose like bile in his throat and he swallowed it back.
By the time the young-looking pastor rose to address the congregation, Tex was ready to bolt for the door. This hadn’t been a wise idea after all. Even if no one connected him with his outlaw persona, he was dreading the questions he would likely be asked at the conclusion of the meeting by anyone who recognized him as the rebellious son of the late Mrs. Beckett. He might have voiced a prayer last night, but that didn’t mean he was ready to be in church again.
Ginny tugged on his sleeve and he bent a second time to hear what she had to say. “Miss Ravena wants to know, are you all right, Mr. Beckett?”
Tex glanced at Ravena, who looked mildly concerned. Apparently he hadn’t hidden his discomfort well. “I’m fine,” he murmured back to Ginny who passed the message back up the line of children.
When Ravena heard it from Fanny, she lifted her chin and offered Tex an encouraging smile. The sight of it helped calm his nerves a little. He was here and he would try to make the best of it. Settling back against the hard pew, he stared at a knot in the bench in front of them and tried to focus on the pastor’s sermon.
“‘For God hath not given us the spirit of fear,’” the man read in a quiet but firm voice, “‘but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.’”
The words jolted through Tex like lightning in a dry storm and he snapped his head up. Did the pastor suspect who Tex was? He expected to find the religious man watching him, but the pastor was still reading from the Bible.
The spirit of fear. If Tex were truly honest with himself—and where better to be than in church—fear had underscored his life for years. He’d left angry, yes, but also afraid. Afraid that Tate was right about him, afraid Ravena would regret having ever loved him, afraid he would turn out exactly like his father. Fear had dogged every heist he’d committed and kept him far from home.
For the first time in eight years, he saw his actions clearly. Not as the adventurous, carefree ones he’d believed them to be but choices born of deep-seated fear—that Tex Beckett wasn’t enough. Not for his father, his brother or the girl he’d loved.
The truth heated his face and he tugged at his tight collar again. Had he chosen a path all those years ago that led him to become someone who did seem good enough, glamorous enough, exciting enough? The Texas Titan was famous, larger-than-life, bold. But Tex Beckett? He was a disappointment to his friends and family, to himself and to God.
Wasn’t he?
The verse said fear didn’t come from God. Then did that mean, his fears weren’t from God either? That maybe they weren’t rooted in reality like he’d believed for so long?
He darted a look at Ravena, who was earnestly listening. Tex still felt regret and guilt for the way he’d left and for not writing. But regrets hadn’t been the whole of their relationship. He could recall the love he’d once given her and received in return. His mother had also loved him unconditionally and her death had affected him deeply. She’d been the only one, besides Ravena, who could see past his mistakes and stubbornness to see him.
God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but...of love.
He had known that love in the past. And not just his mother’s love or Ravena’s love. He suddenly recalled a day, after his father had abandoned them, when he’d been crying by the Reids’ stream. His father had promised to take him and Tate fishing before he’d left. Ezra had come along right then with two fishing poles. Tex dried his tears and had a nice afternoon fishing with Ravena’s grandfather.
When they’d finished, he asked Ezra if Ravena had told him where Tex was and how he’d wanted to fish. But the older man shook his head.
“Ravena didn’t say anything to me, son.” He bent down so he was level with Tex and put his hand on his shoulder. “And she isn’t the only one to know what you needed today. God knew what you needed, Tex.”
“How so?” he’d asked, skeptical.
Ezra smiled. “Because I was headed back out to the fields after lunch when I had a distinct thought to go back and get two fishing poles and get myself quick to the stream. I did and here you were.”
Then Ravena’s grandfather had told Tex something he thought he’d always remember. “God knows you, Tex. And no matter what happens in your life or where you go, He isn’t going to abandon you. He’ll be right there always, but you’ve got to do your part, and let Him in. He won’t force you to come.”
A feeling of warmth and happiness spread thr
ough Tex’s chest at the memory. He’d felt loved and good enough that afternoon after realizing God knew exactly what a young boy had been hoping for that day.
The spirit of power, and love, and of a sound mind. He’d once possessed those qualities, even in the midst of the hardest and saddest times of his life. But somewhere along the way, he’d let fear have greater and greater sway inside his mind and heart.
The notes of the closing hymn penetrated his thoughts. Tex glanced around him, embarrassed he hadn’t realized the service was over. He listened to the words and to Ravena’s beautiful singing voice before bowing his head for the benediction.
Feeling far less dread than he had when he’d entered the building, he exited ahead of Ravena and the children. He shook the pastor’s hand, introducing himself as Ravena’s newest hired hand. It was the simplest explanation, especially for someone who didn’t know their history. The man was polite to him, but the pastor lit up with animation when Ravena expressed what a lovely sermon it had been. Was the preacher one of the possible suitors Ravena had alluded to last night?
Frowning, Tex waited beside her as the man continued talking. When she finally stepped away, Tex found himself placing his hand lightly on the small of her back as he guided her toward the wagon. He was stopped a minute later by the man who’d been staring at him during the service. Tex’s heartbeat resumed its wild hammering.
Instead of calling him out as an outlaw, though, the man asked if Tex was Tate Beckett. Tex explained that he wasn’t; he was Tate’s twin brother. The stranger went on to introduce himself as the one who’d bought the Beckett farm, who Tex had briefly met when he’d gone looking for Tate weeks ago.
When they’d finished chatting about the farm, the woman who’d also been watching Tex in church approached him next, along with her daughter. She told Tex that she’d been a good friend of his mother’s. Tex fielded her questions about Tate with vague answers, though he sensed only friendly curiosity in the woman’s demeanor. And hearing someone talk fondly about his mother brought happy memories to mind.
A few others spoke to him as well, so by the time he and Ravena reached the wagon, the children were already waiting.
“Let’s go, Mr. Beckett,” Mark said, hopping up at the sight of them. “I’m starved.” He gripped his tummy in exaggerated fashion.
Tex couldn’t blame him; he was starved too after eating so little breakfast.
“You’re rather popular.” Ravena smiled at him as he settled onto the wagon seat beside her. He nodded acknowledgement, though deep down he’d been surprised at how nice it was to be recognized as himself and not as the Texas Titan. “Did you enjoy the sermon?” she asked.
“Not half as much as the pastor enjoyed talking to you about it.”
Her cheeks turned pink, making him grin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. He was merely being polite.”
“More so to you than to anyone else.”
“Are you jealous, Tex?”
“It was nice sermon,” he said, facing forward and dodging her question.
Her laughter floated out across the fields of growing crops and distant hills. “I think you answered both questions with that response.”
He shrugged and shot her a lazy grin. But she was right. He had felt a mite jealous and he had enjoyed the sermon, at least the part he’d heard. His thoughts circled back to those realizations he’d had during the service.
Was Ezra still right—about God knowing Tex and not abandoning him? He wasn’t sure he knew the answer, not yet. But he planned to figure it out. After all, he was nothing but determined when he wanted to be. And if he came to the same conclusion he had that day by the stream, then he had some big decisions to make.
Glancing at Ravena, who had turned to say something to the children, he couldn’t help thinking that coming to church had been more than worth it. And he had Ravena and the children to thank for that. They’d come to trust him during his time here. Now he just needed to figure out if he was brave enough to trust himself, and more important, to trust Someone far greater.
Chapter Twelve
“Miss Ravena, Miss Ravena!”
Small hands pushed at her shoulder, but she didn’t want to wake. Just a few more minutes of sleep. She’d stayed up far later than usual to help Tex finish plastering the inside walls of the new house and then she’d rested on the floor for a moment...
Ravena sat up in confusion. How had she come to be in her bed inside her room? Luke and Fanny each grabbed one of her hands and began tugging her forward.
“You gotta come see,” Luke said.
She allowed them to pull her up and out of bed. She still wore her work dress from yesterday and there were splotches of plaster on her hands. “What is it?” she asked, yawning. “Have you had breakfast?”
“Mr. Beckett made us eggs,” Fanny announced proudly.
“But that isn’t what you gotta see.” Luke released her hand to rush toward the door, motioning for her and Fanny to follow.
Ravena brushed out some of the tangles in her hair with her free hand. “What am I coming to see, Fanny?”
The little girl shook her head and grinned. “It’s a surprise. That’s what Mr. Beckett said.”
I’m sure he did, Ravena thought ruefully as she and Fanny headed down the stairs and out onto the porch. Luke kept his lead ahead of them.
The man of surprises met them as she and Fanny started across the yard. “Morning,” Tex called, his expression every bit as excited as the children’s. Ravena wondered what time he’d fallen onto the parlor sofa to sleep.
“Good morning. I heard you made breakfast.” She’d slept later than she had in years, judging by the sunlight and it felt rather wonderful. “Thank you,” she added, sincerely.
His blue eyes seemed even brighter today. “You’re welcome. We saved you some, but first I need you to come with me. There’s something you need to see before the children go to school.”
“All right. Is it something in the new house?”
“It is the—”
Luke’s words were cut off when Tex good-naturedly clapped a hand over the boy’s mouth. “You’ll see.” He released Luke with a knowing smile, then turned to Ravena. “Your eyes need to be closed, though.”
She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Closed?”
Coming around behind her, he settled one hand over her eyes and cradled her to his side with the other. “Is she peeking, Fanny?”
The girl giggled. “No, Mr. Beckett.”
“Good,” he said near Ravena’s ear. “Now just walk slowly in the direction of the new house. I promise not to let you trip or run into anything.”
His nearness and the low quality of his voice made her pulse speed up, even as she began moving in tandem with his measured footsteps.
“Do you know how I came to be in my room last night?” she asked as they shuffled along. “The last thing I remember was taking a short rest on the floor.”
Tex’s chuckle stroked her cheek. “After that short rest, I couldn’t rouse you. So I carried you to your room.”
The realization she’d unknowingly been in his arms caused her to blush. But it wasn’t out of embarrassment alone. Ravena wished she’d been awake. She very much enjoyed being carried by him. “When did you go to sleep?”
There was a pause as if he were trying to remember. “My pocket watch indicated it was three o’clock.”
“Three o’clock?” She stumbled in her surprise, but true to his word, Tex steadied her. “If you were up in time to make breakfast, that means you’ve only had a few hours of sleep.”
“Ravena,” he said huskily, causing the skin by her ear to tingle, “I’ll be fine. But you have a long journey ahead of you today to bring those four boys here.”
“Yes. If the house is done.”
; Tex stopped her. “Let’s go see. We’re going up the steps now.” She allowed him to guide her onto the porch, away from the sun’s early morning rays and into the new house. The children were talking and moving about nearby.
“Can I see it now?” she asked with as much exasperation as excitement.
His warm laughter washed over her. “A mite impatient, aren’t we?”
“Tex!”
“All right. All right.” She could hear his grin. “On the count of three,” he directed the children. A chorus of voices counted, “One...two...three.”
“Welcome to your new home, Ravena,” he said, an unmistakable note of tenderness in his voice, as he removed his hand from over her eyes.
Ravena blinked, then her gaze went to the white plastered walls of what would be their new, larger parlor and to the children standing there, all eagerly watching her reaction. “It’s absolutely beautiful. Just as Grandfather would have wanted.”
Mark let out a whoop and the children scattered, some toward the kitchen and others upstairs.
“You finished the rest of the plastering yourself?” She turned to look at Tex.
He shrugged, but she could see his pleasure at her astonishment. “After everyone’s help yesterday, there wasn’t much left to do.” He extended his hand to her. “Want to see the upstairs?”
Nodding, she slipped her hand into his and felt a moment’s wish that things could remain just as they were right now. Tex led her up the stairs and into each of the six, large bedrooms that would be for the children. Mark and Luke had already claimed theirs.
“The glass still needs to be picked up and placed in all of the windows,” Tex explained as they walked down the hall to the seventh and final bedroom. Her grandfather had ordered and paid for all of the window glass, but it was still sitting at the mercantile in town. “The outside walls need to be whitewashed, and the indoor plumbing put in by someone who knows how. But once the furniture is all moved over from the old house, it’ll be livable.”