“I think you helped me decide to stay in Aubrey.”
“Really?” His insides warmed.
“I’m twenty-seven years old. Too old to go running home to Mama and Daddy. I’m not a city girl anymore, so that rules out San Antonio and Denton.” She blew out a big breath. “I’ve felt so much pressure from all sides, I couldn’t think clearly. Sometimes just saying it all out loud clarifies things. Thanks.”
“Glad to be of help.” She’d be sticking around. But moving into her friend’s ranch suite. What kind of friend? “Reckon you’ll be packing up soon then.”
“Yeah. I’m glad Mel and I didn’t get around to building a house, since I don’t have to worry about paying for it. God works things out for the best.”
Not always. “I wish things had turned out better for you, but I’m glad you’re planning to stay for the time being, Lacie Maxwell. Let me know if you’re interested in that job.”
“Gentry.”
Quinn’s fork clattered to the table. “What?”
“It’s Gentry. Lacie Gentry.”
Her words shot through his heart. No. No. No. Mel Gentry. It couldn’t be.
two
Quinn paled before her eyes.
Lacie touched his hand. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. I’m not as hungry as I thought.” He set his knife down.
“Well, I am. You’re gonna make me look like a hog.” She eyed his barely touched steak.
“Want mine, too?”
“Don’t tempt me.” She grinned.
She’d always liked Quinn. He’d moved to San Antonio during their senior year. At school and church, he’d been nice and gentlemanly. She might’ve worked harder at getting to know him, if she hadn’t already met Mel at a rodeo and been focused on their long-distance relationship.
“Do you need help moving?” Quinn plowed fork tracks through his baked potato. “I’ve got lots of stock trailers, perfect for moving.”
“I don’t have much furniture and no appliances to move. A pickup would do it, but you’d really do that?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“I planned to hire one of those moving companies.”
“Do you have any idea how much that costs?”
She closed her eyes. “Unfortunately. But remember, I’m pretty well set. Not rich—by any means—but I can handle it.”
“No need to spend it when you don’t have to.”
Tempting, but she couldn’t take advantage of his generosity. “Still. It’s too much to ask.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered.”
“I’ll think about it.” She put her fork down and pushed her plate away. “I can’t hold another bite. And I’m afraid I’d better get back to the bar and force some people to leave.” It was getting late. Rayna would pepper her with questions when she returned.
He caught the server’s attention, motioned for the bill, and pulled out his wallet.
“I’ll get dinner.” Lacie picked up her purse.
“You most certainly won’t. I’ve never let a woman pay for my meal, and I won’t start now.”
“If not for me, you’d have seen your employee wasn’t at the bar and gone home.”
“But I’m glad I was there to rescue you.”
The server brought the bill, and Quinn put the money in the leather folder.
“At least let me pay for my part.”
“It’s taken care of. Ready?” He offered his arm.
She accepted, knowing she’d want his protection once they got back to the bar. “I’ll buy next time, then.”
“Next time?” He winked. “I like the sound of that.”
Her heart squeezed. She hadn’t meant to lead him on. There wouldn’t be a next time. She hadn’t been this close to a man in two and half years, except her dad or Clay, who was like a brother to her. She didn’t plan to make a habit of it.
She loosened her grip on his arm and put some space between them. “I mean—if I let you help me move.”
“You mean—when, since I don’t plan on taking no for an answer.”
❧
Quinn’s eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. An all-too-familiar drunk sat at the bar. Quinn blew out a big breath.
“What’s wrong?” Lacie huddled closer to him.
He liked the feeling of having her near and serving as her protector. He owed her so much more. “That employee I didn’t find earlier—Hank’s the one slumped over on the bar.”
“A shame.” She looked Hank over. “He’s just a kid. So young to already have a drinking problem.”
“Yeah, he’s barely legal, but he started a long time ago. Out of his own daddy’s personal stash.”
“Sad.” She scanned the bar, dance floor, and tables. “I don’t see Geena or Marcy.”
“I’ll ask the bartender.” Quinn’s blood boiled. They’d duped Lacie into going to a bar for the first time in her life. Yet she’d stayed to make sure they got home okay—and they had the nerve to disappear on her.
Quinn stepped up to the bar. “Excuse me. Did you happen to notice the blond and the brunette who were with my friend here?”
“They left with a couple of bozos. Said to give her this note.” He handed the note to Lacie.
“Thanks.” She unfolded it and pressed trembling fingertips to her lips. “I can’t believe they left with men they don’t even know.”
“There aren’t many women like you, Lacie.”
“I wish there were. I mean—I’m not perfect by any means—but moral at least.”
Perfect in his estimation. From the top of her blond head to the pointy toes of her sequin-splashed cowgirl boots. He steered her toward the door.
“But what about your friend?”
Hank hadn’t stirred at all. “I don’t think he’s going anywhere. I’ll see you safely to your car, and then I’ll get him out of here.”
Quinn pressed his hand to the small of her back. He’d wanted to touch Lacie Maxwell for almost ten years. Now that he could, he had no right. His hand fell to his side.
His mission in Aubrey would be easier since he’d already met Mel Gentry’s widow. By accident, he’d already put his plan into practice. Tonight he’d become her rescuing knight. He only wished Mel Gentry’s widow weren’t Lacie.
She pressed her clicker to unlock her metallic-gold SUV.
He opened the door for her. “Make sure it starts up.”
She scooted in, turned the key, and the engine roared to life. “Thanks for everything.”
“Let me know when you get ready to move.” The very least he could do, since he’d ruined her life.
He shut the door and watched as she merged onto the highway. Her lights faded from view, and he headed back to the bar.
❧
Lacie smoothed downy blond hair from Max’s temple. Sleeping soundly, angelic expression, breathing so sweetly and gently. Tears came to her eyes. Her baby boy was growing up so fast.
Clay had pulled out the hide-a-bed in the nursery and stacked a wall of pillows around Max.
Cool air blew from the vent. She adjusted the thin blanket tighter around his shoulders, dropped a kiss on his soft cheek, and tiptoed from the nursery.
Rodeo pictures, mostly of Clay, a few of his dad and Mel, lined the cedar walls in the hallway.
She stopped in front of one of his photos. His last season, one of his final rodeos. The familiar face she loved, framed by dark hair. His deep brown eyes looked into her soul. Had he known what she’d done?
Her fingertips traced the crevices in his strong jaw, but the glass was cold. She jerked her hand away and pressed it to her trembling lips.
Was there stress in the lines around his eyes? Stress she’d put there? Had he wanted it to be his last season? Or had she forced his decision?
If only she could have a do-over. Hold off having a baby until Mel retired, but it was too late. Had she had a part in his death?
No. Only God controlled life and death. But she may have made his last days less
happy. She’d hold herself accountable for that until the day she joined him in heaven.
She scurried down the hall to the guestroom. Clay had told her to spend the night if Max was asleep when she got back. It made sense, but she wanted to go home. To the bed she’d shared with Mel. The bed that wouldn’t be hers for much longer.
“You’re in awfully late.”
Lacie skidded to a halt with a little yelp. Busted by Rayna. Like a teenager. Only, being late hadn’t been her fault, other than being stupid.
“Clay said you’re staying here for the night. Our extra room’s at your service.”
“I hadn’t planned to, but I hate to wake Max.”
“Let him sleep. Did you have a nice time?”
“It was a nice dinner.” Pulled it off without a hitch in her tone and continued to the guestroom.
The room blended Rayna’s contemporary tastes with Clay’s down-home country flair—a handmade red, black, and gray quilt in fashionable fabrics covered the bed, matching curtains and area rug paired with raw-pine furnishings and walls. A mix of both their personalities, completely in sync and honest with each other—the way a marriage should be.
“I’m sorry you had to get Max down. I meant to be back sooner.”
Rayna perched on the foot of the guest bed. “No problem. I rocked Kayla to sleep, and then Clay took a shift in the rocker with Max. They both went out like a light.”
“How’s Kayla’s teething?”
“Settling down.” Rayna patted her arm. “I’m glad you had a good time. You need to get out more. Did you meet any men?”
Lacie worked at keeping her expression composed. “Why?”
“I thought I caught a whiff of men’s cologne.”
Something tingled in her stomach. Rayna should’ve been a detective. “I ran into a guy I graduated with. He escorted me to my car.”
“Awesome. Is he a good catch?”
Her heart clenched. “I’m not fishing.”
Rayna patted her arm again. “Oh sweetie, I know you miss Mel. I do, too. But you’re young. He wouldn’t want you to be alone.”
Her breath stalled. She stood and turned her back on Rayna. “Please. I’m not ready.”
“It’s been over two years.”
Two years, five months—she checked her watch—three hours, and forty-three minutes. “I’m not ready. And I have to focus on Max.”
“Who could use a good daddy.”
“He has a daddy.”
“I know, and you do a great job keeping Mel alive for him, but he needs a living, breathing daddy.”
Lacie shook her head. “No man could love him like his own daddy. I’m the only one who can love him through and through like he deserves.”
“But Lacie—”
She raised her hand and faced her friend. “Stop. I made a decision. I’m moving to the ranch until I decide what to do.”
“Wonderful.” Rayna clasped her hands together as if a prayer had been answered.
“But I won’t if I have to deal with this conversation on a daily basis. The subject is closed.”
“Understood.” Rayna’s mouth clamped tight.
“I know you love me and you’re trying to help, but—”
“What are you gals up to?” Clay leaned against the doorframe. “Past bedtime for all mommies.”
“Lacie’s moving in your old suite over at the ranch house.”
Clay looked as if he might jump up and down. “We can repaint. Whatever will make you comfortable.”
“I really appreciate y’all. You’ve been great since Mel’s accident, really great. But I’m a grown woman; this isn’t permanent.”
Rayna’s mouth twitched. “But permanent will be some-where close, I hope?”
“But no pressure.” Clay shot her a lopsided grin. “Start packing up tomorrow, and we’ll get you situated.”
“I don’t want you hurting your shoulder. I might know someone who can help.”
“My shoulder’s good as new.” Clay rotated it for proof.
“The guy from high school?” Rayna tried for nonchalance but couldn’t pull it off.
“What guy?” Clay drawled.
Lacie sighed. “Maybe I should hire a mover after all.”
“Lacie ran into an old friend tonight. But not another word about it.” Rayna pressed a finger to her lips.
“As usual when females are around, I think I missed something.” Clay winked at his wife. “Night, Lace.”
❧
Lacie blew out a sigh, her eyes fixed on Quinn’s business card. A warm breeze fluttered the pages of her magazine as she sat on the back deck of her and Mel’s rental house. But Mel didn’t live here anymore. And hadn’t in a long time.
Max played in the sandbox, digging with his neon-green plastic shovel. Even though Clay insisted on setting up a tent canopy over Max’s play area, she’d slathered her son in coconut-scented sun block. He was now coated in grit, despite her caution to let it dry first, and happy that way.
None of the movers in the Dallas-Fort Worth area or Denton could get her moved until next month. She had to be out before then. No sense prolonging it. It would be hard enough to leave this house.
Leaving behind the life she’d built with Mel.
Get it over with. Fast. She closed her eyes.
“Mama, look.” Max held up a granddaddy longlegs by one hair-like limb.
“Yes baby. But remember, don’t pick up just any spider. Only granddaddies won’t hurt you. And be careful. Don’t hurt him.”
He gently set the spider down and continued building a sandcastle.
Make the phone calls and she could go play in the sand with her son. But she didn’t want to call her parents. Or Quinn. Especially after what Rayna had said. Would he think she was interested in him?
Surely Clay could round up some ranch hands to help. But she knew how hard they worked. She couldn’t ask them to help her move after a hard day’s work.
Procrastination. She set the phone book down and punched in her parents’ number—the lesser of the two dreads.
“Hello?” Mama’s voice tugged at her. Homesick. Not for San Antonio, just for her parents.
“Hey Mama, I’ve decided to move into Clay’s ranch house for now.”
A gasp. “Your father and I were hoping you’d come home.”
“I know, Mama. And I thought about it, but it’s just not home to me anymore.” Her fingers tightened on the arm of the lawn chair.
“We miss you and Max so.”
“I know. But we come visit a lot, and y’all come here, too. Every two months or so, we’re together.”
“Do you need help moving?”
Acceptance. “No. I was going to hire movers, but Rayna and Clay offered to help. And so did Quinn Remington. The house was furnished and so is the ranch suite, so I don’t have appliances or furniture to move, except for Max’s.”
“Quinn Remington? The Quinn Remington I know?”
How did she let that slip? Her gaze rose to the sky. Two smoky jet trails intersected perfectly at a crossroads in the almost-cloudless blue. Like her horizon.
“I ran into him the other day.” At a bar. Laughter bubbled up her throat. “He lives in Aubrey now.”
“Really? I always liked that boy. And you know he had a crush on you in high school.”
“No.” Lacie shook her head, as if her mother could see her. “We were only friends.”
“Maybe on your part, but he always stared at you when you weren’t looking. And he never married. Maybe because he never got over you.”
“You’re reading way too much into this, Mama. And besides, like I told Rayna, I’m not ready.” Her wedding rings glistened in the sun.
“I know, sweetheart. But someday your heart will open again. Maybe God’s been saving Quinn to open it. He’s a Christian, and he’d make a right fine daddy for Max.”
Tell her about the bar. That would call her off. Maybe, but then Mama would redouble her efforts to convince Lacie to
move home. Oh, why did Mel have to die? Why did everything have to be so hard?
“Can you please not marry me off just yet?” Raw pain echoed in her words—the pain of letting Mel down, of missing him and making decisions on her own, of raising their son without him.
But she wasn’t alone. Jesus was with her. Sometimes she had to remind herself to lean on Him more. And consult Him with decisions.
“Let us know when you get settled. Your daddy and I will come for a visit.”
“Sounds nice. Bye, Mama.”
The phone rang in her hand.
She jumped with a little yelp. “Hello?”
“Lacie, it’s Quinn. I found your number in the book and called to see when I can help you move.”
❧
Quinn knocked on the door.
Footfalls sounded, and it swung open. Lacie, as pretty as ever. Her typical rhinestone-studded denim with a simple white T-shirt. Turquoise jewelry made her eyes look the same shade.
“You’re right on time. My friend already took one load to his ranch, but he should be back anytime.”
So her friend was a man, and she was moving there. Pressure built in his chest. A multitude of stacked cardboard boxes sat in the middle of the room. “Any particular starting place?”
“Grab a box, I reckon.”
Quinn scooped up one to load.
“No—” The word ripped from Lacie’s throat. Hands shaking, she reached for the box. Her too-shiny eyes met his. “I’ll take this one.”
three
Quinn read the words scrawled in black marker across the cardboard. Fragile. Wedding Pictures.
Fragile—like Lacie.
“It’s heavy.” Quinn managed to keep his tone steady. “I’ll be real careful. You want it in your car?”
She bit her lip and let him take the box. “In the front.”
Trust shone in her eyes. If only she knew.
He carried Lacie’s heart out to her SUV.
She hurried ahead of him and opened the door.
Gently, he wedged the box in the floorboard, making sure it wouldn’t topple if she hit the break.
“Thank you.” She turned back to the house.
Rodeo Ashes Page 2