Rodeo Ashes

by Vannatter, Shannon Taylor;

  “Ten for Sunday school and eleven for service. Want us to come get you, so you don’t have to walk in alone?”

  “No, I’ll probably just make it for service. See you then.” He closed the phone.

  A dusty Bible lay on the shelf under the coffee table. Quinn picked it up for the first time since that fateful rodeo. The rustle of the pages comforted his soul as he flipped to the Twenty-third Psalm.

  ❧

  Lacie settled Max on her lap and stifled a yawn.

  How was Quinn this morning? Had he slept any more than she had?

  “Big boy.” Max scrambled onto the pew seat beside her.

  Lately, he’d insisted he was a big boy a lot. She didn’t like this new phase. But she had to let him grow and stretch. Even though she’d like him to be, he couldn’t be her baby forever.

  Kendra, Rayna, and Gabby would be along soon. The church had welcomed Lacie with open arms. It was growing on her, and since Mel had never attended this church with her, she didn’t miss him quite as badly here.

  “Mr. Quinn!” Max twisted around in his pew and stood up, arms stretched out.

  “My mama always taught me it’s rude to turn around and gawk at people as they come in the church. We have to sit still and be quiet.” She scooped him up and sat him down, facing forward. “And I’m certain it’s not Mr. Quinn. He doesn’t go to church.”

  “Until today.” Quinn’s voice came from the end of her pew.

  Her jaw dropped. “What are you doing here—I mean I’m glad you came.”

  Max clambered to him.

  Quinn held him close and settled beside her.

  A male hand squeezed Quinn’s shoulder from behind them. “Anything I can do for you?”

  “I’m fine. Thanks, Clay.”

  “Cway.” Max reached for Clay.

  “Come here, wrangler.” Clay scooped up the toddler. “Oh, Lacie, I almost forgot—Brother Timothy’s looking for volunteers to work the church booth at the Peanut Festival. Can we put you down?”

  “Sure.”

  “When is it?” Quinn asked.

  “First Saturday in October.”

  “I can help if you need me to. I mean, I’m new here at church, but I plan on sticking around.”

  “Great, I’ll put you down.” Clay lifted Max to his shoulders. “I’ll deliver this little wrangler to the nursery for you, Lace.”

  “Thanks.” Her heart did a happy dance. Quinn in church. And he planned on sticking around there. “I am glad you came.”

  “Me, too. I’ve been carrying a lot of burdens on my own. Feeling unworthy to darken the doors of a church. But Hank’s death the other night drove me to my knees. I finally figured out none of us are worthy, but He takes us on anyway.”

  The main thing that had held her back from getting too close to him. And God had taken care of it. If only it hadn’t taken poor Hank’s death to get him back in contact with God.

  “When’s the funeral?”

  “Tuesday at a church over in Denton. Afternoon service. Think they’re trying to locate his wife. I was hoping—”

  “Want me to come with you?”

  “I do. But I hate taking you away from Max.”

  “Max naps in the afternoons.”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  The pianist began playing.

  It had been over two years. She was lonely. She’d known Quinn since she was eighteen, and he was a good man. He was great with Max. And now he was back in fellowship with God.

  He was the only man who’d made her feel anything since Mel died. Would Mel want her to move forward?

  The haunting, tugging strains of “Just as I Am” filled the sanctuary. Lacie blinked. She’d daydreamed through the song service and sermon, all the way to the altar call.

  As the congregation sang, Quinn went forward.

  Lacie bowed her head. Lord, help me to do the right thing. The music faded. Lacie ended her prayer.

  Brother Timothy and Quinn stood facing the congregation. “This is Quinn Remington. He recommitted his life to Christ this morning and would like to join our church.”

  Amens and applause echoed through the church.

  Her heart ricocheted.

  Please give me peace, with or without Quinn in my life.

  ❧

  The funeral had been wrenching. Hank’s distraught mother sobbed through the whole thing, and Quinn wanted to, too.

  If only he’d been a better Christian. He could have witnessed to Hank. Where was Hank spending eternity? Quinn didn’t know. That lack of knowledge twisted his gut.

  At least the steel-gray box in front of the pulpit stayed closed throughout the service. Seeing Hank’s pale, lifeless face at the hospital, and the endless hours of visitation last night, had been far more than enough.

  He aimed Lacie toward the exit and stayed close on her heels. Escape was ten feet away. Out the church’s lobby door.

  “Quinn?” a male voice said over his left shoulder.

  Hank’s dad.

  “We really appreciate you for trying to help Hank. Most folks would have fired him.”

  If I had, he wouldn’t have had the money to get drunk and get himself killed.

  Lacie’s fingers wove through his.

  “I’m to blame for his drinking.” Hank’s father’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “I quit a few years ago, but it was too late for Hank. He learned his way of life from me. But he really was trying, and he gave you a lot of the credit for his sober days.”

  “Me?”

  “He told us your faith in him gave him strength and made him respect himself.”

  Quinn swallowed hard. “Thank you for telling me. You know, you didn’t make Hank drink.”

  Lacie squeezed his hand.

  “No, but he learned how by watching me.”

  “We can’t blame ourselves. In the end, we have to realize Hank made his own decisions.”

  Hank’s distraught father nodded and hurried back to his wife’s side.

  Quinn bolted for the exit, helped Lacie in his truck, and started the engine.

  “Was Hank’s wife there?”

  “No. Reckon when she said she was done, she meant it.”

  “Quinn?”

  Her beauty stalled his breath. Something had changed between them since he recommitted to Christ. Something palpable and alive vibrated between them.

  She touched his shoulder, sending quakes through his soul. “You helped Hank. Even though things didn’t turn out like we’d like, you gave him respect, and he wanted to do better because of your encouragement.”

  Her words comforted like a soothing balm, but her nearness stirred things he had no right to long for.

  “It takes a strong man to make the right decision when life gets tough. You recommitted to Christ, and I’m proud of you for how you’ve handled everything the world’s thrown at you lately.”

  “Proud enough to have dinner with me?”

  Silence.

  “We’ve had dinner together as a rescue effort”—he tried to keep his voice casual—“and with friends. Don’t you think it’s time we had dinner alone, just because we want to?”

  “You mean like a date?” Her voice quivered.

  “Yes.” Our first and last.

  “It’s been so long since I. . . Can I think about it?”

  “Sure.” He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “No pressure.”

  What was he thinking? He had no right to ask her. He’d had a long talk with Jesus last night, and his guilt over Mel’s death had ebbed. But he still had no right to romance Mel’s widow. Not until he told her the truth. And after that, he might never see her again.

  ❧

  Quinn eased the roof of the white canopy tent up as high as it would go. October lowered the temperature to the upper seventies. Today was a gift. A nice sunny day spent with Lacie at the Peanut Festival.

  At the opposite leg of the tent, Lacie reached above her head and couldn’t raise the catch as hi
gh as it needed to be. But he knew she liked doing things on her own.

  She glanced his way. “You okay?”

  “I had to interview prospective ranch hands to replace Hank this week.”

  “I’m sorry. But haven’t you heard? Life goes on.” She sighed. “I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve heard that. I decided the next well-meaning friend who said it to me was gonna get socked in the nose. But I knew they meant well.”

  Even without her knowing the truth, Mel’s ghost stood between them.

  With his side of the roof locked in place, she still struggled with hers. Surely, she wouldn’t mind if he helped at this point. He started across the open area. Her hand slipped and the tent collapsed over them.

  “Oops.” Melodic giggling led him in the right direction.

  “I’ve got it.” He found her and followed her arm up the pole to the catch. The tent’s roof lifted off them, and she faced him. Bright-eyed and beautiful. Boy how he’d love to kiss her. Right here in front of half of Aubrey. Numerous other tents were in set-up progress across the open field, but maybe no one watched them.

  No pressure. His own words haunted him.

  He backed away and concentrated on the catch on the other two legs. With everything sturdy, he moved two tables under the canopy while Lacie set out peanut butter balls, brittle, and turtles. Jars of homemade peanut butter lined up alongside cellophane bags of trail mix. Even with all the goodies surrounding them, he could barely keep his eyes off her.

  Focus on something besides her. “I understand Aubrey used to be famous for growing peanuts.”

  “True. The sandy soil was great for growing them.” She pointed to a tall, metal, leaning-tower contraption in the back of the field. “That’s the peanut dryer. The festival started in 1986 when peanuts were still the main crop around here.”

  “Do folks still grow peanuts in these parts?”

  “No.” She waved away a fly, though cellophane covered the food. “Somehow the climate changed. By the time Mel and I moved here, they didn’t grow like they used to. But the sandy soil is perfect for horses.”

  “And Aubrey became Horse Country USA.”

  “Which is what drew you here.”

  Not really. But he couldn’t tell her that. “Maybe we could have lunch at Moms when our relief crew shows up.”

  “Maybe.”

  “No pressure. Not a date. Just two volunteers sharing lunch. I’ve been craving another Philly Beef & Cheese ever since last Sunday.”

  “Yum. Okay, I’m in. And by the way, is your offer still open for dinner sometime?”

  Does a horse eat hay? “Anytime.”

  “I’d like that.”

  His heart sped. “I’m announcing at Cowtown tonight. But I’m off next Saturday night. There’s a great Italian place over in Denton.”

  “I love Italian.”

  If only she could love him. But she couldn’t, not after he told her the truth.

  ❧

  Lacie plopped on the end of her bed. In a mere four days, she’d go to dinner with Quinn. A date. Now was the time.

  Max and Danielle had just gone down for their nap. Kendra probably wouldn’t be back to retrieve her daughter for a while.

  She twisted her wedding rings round and round, inching them toward her knuckle. Finally, they slid off her finger. She sucked in a deep breath, lips trembling.

  “I’m so sorry, Mel. If I had my way, you’d still be here. But you’re not. I have to live again. Without you.”

  Her hand trembled as she set the rings on her dresser, and then she lay across her bed. Shaky fingers traced the pale indention they’d left. Her breath came in short bursts.

  nine

  “Is this right, Lord?” Lacie whispered.

  Her nerves settled. Peace flowed through her.

  “Knock, knock,” Kendra called.

  Lacie hurried to the door.

  “Are the munchkins asleep?”

  “They are. I didn’t expect you back so soon. You could’ve shopped for another thirty minutes before they’re up from their nap.”

  Kendra’s shoulders slumped. “I wasn’t shopping. I went to see our lawyer about Danielle’s adoption.”

  “And?” Lacie gestured to the navy couch. The suite was dark and masculine from when Clay had lived there. Temporary. She needed to do something permanent soon.

  Closing her eyes, Kendra sank into the cushions. “He says we’re safe.”

  “That’s great news! So why aren’t you happy?”

  “Because I’ve seen the news—toddlers ripped away from the only parents they’ve ever known at the whim of some judge.”

  Lacie squeezed Kendra’s hand. “I think that’s very rare. And you don’t know Lynn wants her back. They’re moving home; that’s all.”

  Kendra scanned Lacie’s hand. “Your rings?”

  Pinpricks bloomed at the back of Lacie’s eyes. She blinked. “I’m going to dinner with Quinn Saturday night. I didn’t think I should wear my wedding rings on a—”

  “A date. How do you feel?”

  Her vision blurred. Like I’m turning my back on Mel and all we shared. “Torn. But I’m so tired of being alone. I’ve known Quinn for a long time, and I always liked him. But lately—”

  “You’re attracted to him.” Kendra elbowed her. “That’s good, honey. You’re still alive, and you need to live. Mel wouldn’t want you to spend your life mourning him.”

  Lacie nodded. “Quinn’s a good man.”

  “He’s even been coming to church.”

  “That was the final hurdle holding me back.”

  “Now it’s full steam ahead, for both of us.” Kendra swiped her eyes and propped her feet on the cedar coffee table. “We both need to get out of our funks.”

  “Stop borrowing trouble.” Lacie grinned. “I’ll pray for you, and you pray for me.”

  “Done.”

  “What if he wants to kiss me?” Lacie pressed trembling fingers to her lips. “Mel was the only man I’ve ever kissed.”

  “You’ll remember how. Or tell him you’re not ready. Don’t let him rush you—into anything. But then, I don’t think Quinn’s that kind of guy. Just go to dinner, have a nice time, and enjoy the company of a nice Christian man.”

  That was her problem—she already enjoyed his company, way too much.

  She’d never been the type to date just for the fun of it. Especially now, with Max. But was she ready for something lasting? Was Quinn?

  Lacie covered her face with both hands. “I don’t even know if I really feel anything for him. Or if I’m just lonely and he’s familiar.”

  “You’ll never know unless you stick your big toe in the water.” Kendra patted her shoulder. “Have you prayed about Quinn?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “Perfect peace.”

  “Well, there you go. God’s got it covered. Just follow His lead.”

  Into the arms of another man? How, when part of her heart still belonged to Mel?

  ❧

  Tennis shoes squeaked on the laminate flooring as Lacie stopped in front of the fireplace. The longest week of her life. Only Thursday. Would Saturday ever come?

  “What do you think of the house?” Mama asked.

  Lacie snapped to attention. “It’s nice. Very homey and cozy.”

  “That’s what I thought. Star’s a great real estate agent.”

  Star tapped her chin with a perfectly manicured fingernail. “You need a big rug for in here. Center the living room furniture around it. Fireplaces are so romantic.”

  Lacie smoothed her hand over the marble hearth.

  Mama gasped. “Lacie?”

  She jerked away, like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “What? Does it scratch easy?”

  “Your rings.”

  Warmth coursed through her body, creeping up her neck, and boiling her cheeks. “I’ll tell you if you won’t push.”

  “I promise.” Mama shot her a Girl Scout
salute.

  “Me, too.” Star crossed her heart.

  “I’m going to dinner with Quinn.”

  Mama’s hands jerked together as if to clap then stopped. “That’s wonderful, dear. I hope you enjoy yourself.” She swept her hand toward the wall. “I thought we’d put your grandfather’s bookcase over here. But what on earth will I put over the fireplace? We don’t have any artwork big enough.”

  Who’d have guessed Mama was capable of such self-control?

  “I love you.” Lacie hugged her mom. “Let’s go shopping before the move. We should be able to find something perfect at the Galleria.”

  “Ooh, sounds fun. We could invite your father, too. He could hang out at the man stores and meet us for lunch. Maybe Quinn could go with him, only to keep him from getting bored, of course.”

  Lacie rolled her eyes. She’d known it was too good to last.

  “I love you, too, dear.”

  “I know.” Lacie grinned.

  “You have to admit Mama’s holding herself back quite admirably.” Star propped her chin on her fist. “I wonder if Wyatt would want to go?”

  Lacie’s jaw dropped. “Wyatt?”

  A blush pinked Star’s cheeks. “He looked me up in the phone book after you introduced us at the rodeo. We’ve talked on the phone a few times, but I get the feeling he has some baggage. I’ve been meaning to ask you about him.”

  “You know this guy, Lacie?” Mama’s protector mode shifted into overdrive.

  “He’s a bull rider.” Lacie tucked her hands in her pockets. “A year ago, I’d have said, ‘Run the other way.’ He was the all-time womanizer and a big jerk. But his girlfriend got pregnant, and she wanted to abort. That forced him to his knees.”

  “He told me he got saved, and he’s raising his baby girl alone.” Star shook her head. “That must be tough.”

  “It is, but he’s crazy about her. He talked his ex into carrying the baby to term, and she signed all rights over to him. He’s like a different person. Completely focused on Jesus and his daughter.”

  “Sounds like a keeper to me.” Mama’s eyes narrowed, the way they did when she hatched a plan. “I assume Wyatt and Quinn know each other. All the more reason to invite Quinn on our outing.”

  The invitation would definitely show the men’s true colors. What guy wanted to spend the day with the girl he wanted to date—and her parents?