George placed his big hand on her arm. “Ellen, darlin’. I’m worried about you. I can take you back and still make the show.”
“Don’t you dare!”
He cocked his head to the side, clearly confused. Feeling rather smug, she draped her arms over his shoulders, traced his muscles with her fingertips, and swayed toward him, her face rising to his.
George’s brows shot up. “Oh, I see . . .”
She expected him to take over, but he didn’t move an inch. Instead he stared at her lips. She met his confident gaze with one of her own. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
“No, ma’am. I am not.”
“Well, neither am I.” She swayed an inch closer. So did George. When she moved another inch and stopped, he did the same.
She couldn’t stand much more, but the power she possessed thrilled her. Bold as brass, she stood on her toes and matched her mouth to his. George did the rest. His arms tightened around her back, and he hauled her against his chest. His mouth moved with hers, exploring, tasting, enticing, until she was dizzy with the thrill of it.
Finally, when they both needed air, he drew back and kissed her temple instead of her mouth. “It’s a good thing you did that, because I was about to die.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” A deep chuckle shook his chest. “Tonight, when I sing a new song called ‘Starting Over Twice,’ it’s for you.”
“Oh, George.” She choked up. “I’m honored.”
“We’re not kids anymore, Ellen. If I’ve learned one thing in the past few years, it’s to honor the time God gives us.” Stepping back, he gripped her hands, lifting them up to make a bridge of sorts. “I love you. I know this is fast, but I’m old enough to know the real thing when I feel it.”
Ellen looked into his craggy face. Each rugged line told a story, and each story was a stone in the path leading to this moment. Love. She felt it too. It was a miracle, but she also knew the risks. She buried her head under his chin. “I love you too. It scares me, but I can’t stop these feelings.”
“Would you stop them if you could?”
“No.” She pressed her lips to his Adam’s apple. “But can we take things slow? Loving again . . . it frightens me.”
“We’ll take it one day at a time,” he told her.
“I can handle that.”
He looped his arm around her waist and led her back to the car, where he kissed her one more time. They climbed in and he steered back to the road, holding her hand while she thought about the tattoo on her shoulder. That verse had seen her through hard times and it always would. With her heart light, she watched the road as it took them straight into the future.
twenty-eight
When Julia parked her Outback at the stable on Sunday afternoon, Max was strapped in his booster seat, rubbing his eyes and irritable because of yet another nightmare. She had done her best to dispel his fear, but she couldn’t make it go away if he wouldn’t even acknowledge it. Hunter praising him for being a big boy didn’t help. The dreams about the snake occurred nightly now, so she had arranged today’s visit with Chet. If Max saw Jed was safe, maybe he could put the snake out of his mind.
Her mom and George had extended their trip and were still gone. With Tiff’s wedding just six days away, Julia would need to take Max to the children’s program or leave him with a hotel baby-sitter tomorrow. Neither option would be easy if Max was afraid to leave the house. This morning she had tried a “kill the snake” game and brought in Zeke’s Ninja Turtles for backup, but Max wasn’t impressed with her skills.
As she climbed out of her car, he kicked his legs. “Mommy, no! I don’t want to get out.”
With her heart breaking, she peered at his tearstained face. She’d spent an hour coaching him about this visit. “But Max, we decided—”
He kicked even harder. “I don’t want to see the horse!”
Chet walked up to the car and laid a friendly hand on her shoulder. “How about if I give it a try?”
“Thanks,” she murmured. “I’m desperate.”
Leaning forward, Chet pushed back his hat and put his hands on his knees. “Hey, partner. How would you like to visit Sugar Pie?”
Taken by surprise, Max stopped squirming. Julia popped the harness, swung him up to her hip, and smiled her thanks to Chet.
“That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” she said in her mommy voice.
Max’s arms tensed around her neck, but he didn’t squirm. His eyes were riveted to Chet’s face. “You came to get us at those rocks.”
“Yes, I did. That was pretty scary, huh?”
The color drained out of Max’s face, but he didn’t utter a sound or tighten his grip on her neck. Hopeful, Julia lowered him to his feet. He slid easily but held tight to her hand, his eyes as wide as saucers as they approached the barn.
They were ten steps away when she spotted Zeke. Dressed in Levi’s, an olive green T-shirt, and hiking boots, he stepped out of the barn. Julia’s heartbeat tripled, and for a moment she enjoyed the sight of sunlight streaking his hair, the smile on his lean face, and the apparent strength of his broad shoulders. This was the man she wanted Max to copy and admire. Zeke carried himself with authority, not arrogance. He was in charge and it showed, but he wasn’t controlling or critical. And those biceps clearly visible beneath the snug T-shirt . . . her mouth went as dry as it had when he kissed her in the dark.
Tingling in spite of the heat, she told herself to get a grip. She could enjoy Zeke’s company later. Today was about Max. If anyone could help her son get over his fear of snakes, it was Zeke.
Julia waved a greeting and smiled. “This is a surprise.”
“For me too,” Zeke replied. “A good one.”
Chet’s gaze bounced from Zeke’s face to hers, and then back to Zeke. “I was just taking Miss Julia and Max to visit the horses. If you can handle it, I’d be obliged. We’re shorthanded today.”
“Sure, Chet. No problem.”
The cowboy left, and Zeke faced Julia. “I just checked Golden Point. The prep work is done, and the contractor got the part for the paver. With a little luck, the work will be done by Wednesday, and the landscapers can bring in the potted trees. It’s not done yet, but I think we’re going to make it.”
“I hope so.” But she was still ready with a backup plan, especially since a tropical storm was forming off the coast of Baja and traveling north.
Max tugged hard on her arm. She looked down and saw his gaze riveted on Zeke. “You gave me the Ninja Turtles.”
“That’s right,” Zeke replied.
“You’re wearing a green shirt. The Turtles are green too.”
Hands on his hips, Zeke spread his feet a little wider. “That’s me”—he deepened his voice—“Turtle Man.”
Max giggled. “You’re not really a Ninja Turtle.”
“No.” Grinning, Zeke lowered his arms. “But I wanted to be one when I was a kid. Who’s your favorite?”
“Michelangelo.” Max tilted his face up at Julia. “That’s the one you used to try to kill the snake. But it didn’t work.”
When Zeke lifted an eyebrow at her, she mouthed, Later. “We came to see how Jed’s doing.”
Max kept his eyes on Zeke. “The snake bit him. I saw it. Snakes can be anywhere, even in your yard.”
Understanding washed away the playfulness on Zeke’s face. Dropping to a crouch, he put himself eye-to-eye with Max. “I hate snakes.”
Max let go of Julia’s hand and inched closer to Zeke. “I do too.”
“If you ask me,” Zeke said just to Max, “rattlesnakes make the scariest sound in the world.”
A weight lifted from Julia’s shoulders. This was the kind of understanding Max needed, not the shame dished out by Hunter.
The three of them walked into the big barn with Max in the middle. When Zeke laid a hand on his shoulder, Max looked up and grinned, his first true smile in almost a week. Julia’s breath caught, and in a flash of hope she imagin
ed the three of them together in ten years, then twenty.
One step at a time. Giving herself a mental shake, she focused back on Max.
A carved wooden sign marked Jed’s stall. As they approached, Zeke picked up Max and balanced him on his hip. When they reached the stall, he pointed over the half door to Jed munching hay. Julia stood on Zeke’s other side, their shoulders brushing while he gave Max an update on Jed.
“The vet checked his leg this morning. He’s going to be as good as new in about two weeks.”
“Is the snake gone?” Max asked.
“That’s a good question.” Zeke glanced at Julia, giving her a chance to intervene. But there was no need. She trusted Zeke’s judgment, so she nodded. Tell him what you think is best.
Zeke shifted Max further back on his hip, then looked into the boy’s tense face. “That particular snake is dead. I’ve never seen one around the stable or near your house or the big hotel, but I’ll be straight with you, Max. Snakes are part of nature. It’s smart to stay away from the places they hang out, like those boulders.”
Max turned to Julia, his arm still around Zeke’s neck but relaxed now. “I’m never going near those rocks again.”
“That’s a good idea,” Zeke told him. “But you know what?”
“What?”
“You don’t need to be afraid. You just need to be smart, which you are. If you ever hear that sound again, walk away from it.”
“I will,” Max vowed. “I hate snakes.”
When they walked back outside, Max squirmed to get down. The instant his feet touched the ground, he stomped on an invisible snake. Zeke stomped with him, and so did Julia. The stomping turned into a silly game with Max deciding he wanted to be the Ninja Turtle named Raphael because he was extra tough.
Laughing and joking, the three of them decided to go back and give Jed some carrots. The big horse gobbled them up, but when they fed some to Sugar Pie, she ate like the dainty old lady she was.
With Max distracted, Zeke nudged Julia a few steps away and whispered into her ear. “That snake episode really shook him up.”
“More than you know.” She told him about the nightmares. “Thanks for helping him. It’s been tough on us both, and Hunter didn’t help at all. He told Max to be a man like Daddy. Can you believe it?”
“Unfortunately, I can.” Something dark dimmed his expression. For a moment he studied her. “Are you doing anything right now?”
“No. Why?”
“How about coming to the house? When I cleaned out the rest of the boxes, I found some more Ninja Turtle stuff. I want Max to have it. Plus it’ll give us a chance to talk in private. I promised to tell you about the other night.”
“I’d like that a lot.”
When Julia told Max they were going to Zeke’s house, he ran out of the barn, snakes and horses forgotten. Zeke lifted Max into the car seat, and they drove separately with Zeke in the lead. When they arrived at his house, he opened the big garage door. The wall of boxes was gone, but she saw one remaining carton on the workbench. The Ninja Turtle sidekicks named Splinter, the Shredder, and April O’Neil were lined up next to it.
Zeke led them to the bench and handed the action figures to Max. “You’ll need these to go with the Turtles.”
“Thanks!” Max clutched the figures in both hands, making a jumble of plastic arms and legs. “Want to play Turtles with me?”
“Maybe later,” Zeke said. “But you can play with them on the grass while I talk to your mom.”
Max looked at Zeke as if he really were Turtle Man, then scampered to the landscaped mound in the middle of the lawn.
When he was settled, Julia shifted her gaze to Zeke. “So here we are.”
Zeke glanced at the flattened boxes stacked against the wall, ready in case he lost his job and needed to move. Last week when he told Julia something was happening to him, he had expected to be in a different place mentally and professionally. A place of triumph, his career secure and his faith restored after defeating Maury and Hunter. Instead, his first step back to God had led him to his own Gethsemane. A lonely place of decision, where a man chose to fight for himself or die for the sake of others.
The more Zeke thought about everything Maury could do for Caliente Springs, the more he wondered if his return to faith would cost him his career. Without a job, he couldn’t bring himself to even think about asking Julia to marry him. Some men might not care about supporting a wife and child, but Zeke did.
Julia pushed up on her toes and looked into the open box on the workbench, specifically at the upper half of a framed photograph of Zeke and his dad.
“Can I see it?” she asked.
Without comment, he handed it to her. He had tried to go through his dad’s things that morning, but the picture of that grinning kid had sucker-punched him. He’d come within an inch of taping the box shut again.
“What else is in here?” Julia lifted out a thick manila envelope. “I’d love to see more pictures.”
He plucked the envelope from her fingers. Family photographs were his mother’s domain, and he’d already divvied up the loose prints and albums with his sisters. He had no idea what expression was on his face, but Julia backed away from him. “I’m sorry, Zeke. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You didn’t.” If he could share facing his father’s disappointment with anyone, it was Julia. “This stuff belonged to my dad.”
She looked at the box, trailed a finger down the smooth side, then traced the crisp No. 1 written on it. “I know what it’s like to go through old things like this. Would it help if we did it together? You never know. We might find something special.”
Zeke doubted it. The envelope in his hand held his father’s sermon notes, and it weighed a thousand pounds. Expecting nothing but his father’s disappointment, he worked the clasp open and slid out a stack of paper. When he saw the double-spaced type with notes written in red ink, his father’s voice played in his head. Don’t let God down, son. Your behavior is your witness.
Zeke held back a scowl, but his throat knotted over a tender lump. If his dad had walked into the garage at that moment, Zeke would have hugged him hard and resented him all at the same time. The envelope slipped from his hand back to the workbench. Letting out a slow breath, he raked his hand through his hair.
“What’s wrong?” Julia asked.
“I spent my whole life trying to live up to what’s in these notes.” Years of trying to be perfect, hiding his failures, and wearing a coat-hanger smile. “I couldn’t do it.”
Take the resentment, Lord. I don’t want it.
Julia studied his face for a moment, sighed with him, and reached back inside the box. “Let’s see what else is here.”
Zeke touched her shoulder. Not to stop her but to draw strength from having her at his side. He had bared his soul to her, yet she was here with him now. Encouraging him, helping him, her eyes so full of love he didn’t know whether to stand taller or break down. “Thanks for being here.”
Reaching up, she laid her hand over his. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else right now. Let’s finish this.”
Spine straight, he reached in the box and lifted out the ceramic candy dish his youngest sister made in second grade. It was lumpy, crooked, and glazed a hideous orange. Grinning, Zeke held it up for Julia’s inspection. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s beautiful.” She admired it a moment, then tipped her head. “Did you make it?”
“No, my baby sister did. My dad kept it on his desk for years.”
Julia grinned. “The baby of the family and daddy’s little girl. I bet she got away with murder.”
“Definitely.”
But Zeke never did. He’d been in training to be the family standard-bearer. For the most part, he had enjoyed the attention. And though the pressure to be perfect had left marks, it had also given him his achievements. With more gratitude than resentment, he set the candy dish aside and looked back in the box.
Pushing to her
toes, Julia peered over the edge. “A cigar box. And it’s made of wood.”
“What about it?”
“Cigar boxes are always special. I don’t know why, but they are.”
Julia didn’t know it, but she was looking at his father’s junk box—a collection of pencil stubs, dried-out pens, rubber bands, and whatever other flotsam gathered on his desk. Zeke put on the most somber expression he could manage. When he spoke, his voice came out in the dark tone of a mortician. “Would you open it for me?”
“Of course.”
Equally somber, Julia paused to trade a respectful look then opened the lid. Instead of looking into the box, Zeke watched her brows arch and collapse as she burst out laughing. The box held just what he expected along with toenail clippers and wart remover.
Julia shook her head. “There goes my ‘special cigar box’ theory. Wart remover? Really?”
Zeke picked up the half-used bottle and smiled. Apparently the Reverend Jacob Monroe was as human as anyone else. If he had checked the box before storing it, he would have tossed the wart remover, but he’d missed it. Made a mistake. Forgotten to double-check the way he had always told Zeke to do.
It’s okay, Dad. I get it. No one’s perfect. Not you. Not me. With his eyes suddenly damp, Zeke found it easy to love his dad—warts and all.
Feeling lighter than he had in years, he reached back into the storage box. His fingers hit a rock about five inches in diameter, coarse to the touch, and surprisingly light in weight. He knew the feel of it, the shape in his hand. As he lifted it out, he turned his palm to display the round stone to Julia. “I can’t believe this. It’s an uncracked geode.”
“From your dad.”
“Yes. I wonder where it came from.” He thought a minute and decided his father had purchased it somewhere, maybe as a birthday gift for his son. “Let’s open it.” He called over his shoulder. “Hey, Max, I found one of those special rocks. We’re going to crack it open. Do you want to help?”
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