by Mae Nunn
“When I’ve made a decision you and the rest of our family will hear it first and from me.”
“I hope you’ll give the Standard-Times an exclusive. You know we’d strongly consider endorsing you.”
“Again, we’ll have that discussion when it’s appropriate.”
Gerald glanced toward the parking lot, then engaged Ben in a stare down.
“It’s a nice day to be cruising in your daddy’s big Cadillac. But you know Laura Epps hit the ground running as soon as she announced her campaign. According to our poll she’s already ahead of you and the other wannabes because she’s proved she’s in it to win it. The longer you hold out, the more people are gonna think you’ve lost your edge. But I know you’ll make the right decision for Ben Lamar. You always do,” he sneered. “If you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen.”
With his parting shot fired, Gerald nodded and left their table.
“He’s a jerk.” For once Ethan’s bluntness was apropos. “Why did you let him speak to you that way? You shoulda punched him.”
“Politics can be a mean business sometimes, son. And I let Gerald say those things because he’s right. I’ve been on the fence too long.”
Fish or cut bait.
Run with the big dogs or stay on the porch.
If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.
Ethan was sitting in a public place showing just the improvement Ben had been praying for. Now, his cousin’s words were like the two-minute warning.
It was time Ben got his head and his heart in the game. This was sudden death with no instant replay.
Chapter Fifteen
Sunday was Ben’s favorite day of the week, and it had nothing to do with football. Though he’d enjoyed the previous day’s excitement with Ethan and Ali, Ben treasured the Sunday morning hours as he joined in praise songs that reverberated from his satellite radio. Then he worshiped at the church where he’d come to faith and been baptized as a boy, and finally ended the morning with a late brunch at the country club. With Mrs. Alvarez back from her vacation and at the house with Ethan, Ben was free to resume his weekend routine.
Waiting at his favorite table he glanced around at some of San Angelo’s finest citizens. Well-heeled oil and cattlemen sat tall, proud of their expensively dressed wives. Ben grinned as he remembered scenes from the eighties television series set in Dallas where J.R. and Bobby had entertained lavishly at the Baron’s Club. This room might be absent all the public drama, but the West Texas gentry seated nearby were every bit as proud of their heritage as the Ewing brothers.
A second and closer look failed to reveal even one natural redhead with a long braid and dangly silver earrings. It jolted Ben to the toes of his boots to realize he was no longer comparing the other women to Theresa.
The beauty on his mind these days was Alison Stone.
He grew warm sitting in the sunny window and signaled a nearby waiter to slant the blind. But even positioned in the shade the troublesome heat did not abate. And Ben knew why. The temperature increase was internal. The sensation had been happening for days and he no longer made the effort to deny the source of his discomfort.
He was falling in love with Ali.
She was under his skin and she’d tunneled right to his heart. She was amazing, talented, open and honest. Ethan was smitten by her approach to him and to life and Ben was admitting right here and right now, his future was moving in an unexpected direction and he seemed powerless to stop it.
If Ali weren’t so adamant about her Sunday private time he’d have invited her to join him. Her down-to-earth approach to everything would help in today’s dealings with Randy and the park conservation group Ben would be meeting in the afternoon.
“They said you’d be at your usual table.” Randy’s greeting was casual, as though their recent differences hadn’t occurred. “You’re gonna have to be a little less predictable when you get to Washington.”
“What would you suggest I do differently?” Ben stood to give his friend a handshake and slap on the shoulder, then waited to see what pearls of political wisdom Randy would toss out today.
“Well, for starters, sit with your back to the wall so those liberals from the left coast can’t sneak up behind you.” He chuckled, only half joking.
“I’ll take that under advisement.” Ben picked up the menu, though he knew it by heart. He needed to avert his eyes for a moment while he considered the dark feeling that settled over him as Randy took a seat to the right. Was it switching gears from a loving revelation about Ali to the matter of his campaign that had Ben’s spirit confused?
“Just a Cobb salad and ice tea for me,” Randy told the waiter.
Ben ordered Eggs Benedict with freshly squeezed orange juice. His usual. He folded his hands and leaned on the table.
“Okay, tell me about these new folks you want me to meet. Where did you find them?”
“I’ll be blunt, Ben. After that mess at your house between Doctor Stone and Sanders Boyd and then the way Boyd retaliated, I thought it best to move toward a less controversial subject. City park conservation and growth should be safe ground to get the campaign launched.”
Ben held his palm outward. “Back up a minute. Are you telling me you know for sure Boyd is responsible for that photo in the media and all the junk Ali and I have put up with ever since?”
Randy leaned against his chair, taken aback by Ben’s question.
“Well, I don’t know for certain. I mean, he didn’t call and brag to me or anything like that. But it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
“I followed the same logic. I just feel badly about silently accusing the guy when I have no proof.”
Randy shook his head. “I really don’t get you, Lamar. We’ve known each other, what? Twenty-five years? And you never say a negative thing about another person, even when they deserve it. They won’t know what to think of you on Capitol Hill.”
“I hope they’ll think I’m a Christian man who’s committed to walking the walk.”
“Okay, whatever.” Randy reached into a sleek, black crocodile attaché case, pulled out several pages of handwritten notes and began coaching for the afternoon meeting.
Several hours later, Ben stood in the spreading shade of a majestic Chinquapin oak. He and a small group representing the Lend a Hand Foundation met at Halfway Landing, an antiquated city park in desperate need of rehabilitation. With newer recreational areas to choose from, this site was in serious decline and overgrowth. Sadly, the neglect not only affected a historic area where brave, western-bound settlers were buried, it also dragged down the property value of the homes of the nearby senior citizens who couldn’t afford the move to more upscale, desirable neighborhoods.
Ben felt an instant connection with this project. Here was an area where he could literally roll up his sleeves and get involved. It might even be something he and Ethan could do together.
“So, now that you’ve seen the place you can probably understand why we were so excited when Mr. Mason contacted us. Having you announce your candidacy from this site will give our foundation some positive media attention.” Mary Barker, the self-proclaimed ringleader of the group grinned and elbowed Ben. “A little something you and Doctor Stone could use, right?” she murmured conspiratorially.
As much as he’d thought the rumors about his private life would be water off a duck’s back in a day or two, he’d been wrong. He was accustomed to being in the spotlight, took it in stride. But the insinuations about Ali had gone on too long.
“Mrs. Barker, that situation was entirely innocent, I assure you. If I had anything to be ashamed of I wouldn’t be asking you fine folks to support me.”
She ducked her head, probably wishing she’d left the sensitive subject alone. When her eyes met his again they glistened with apology.
“I’m sorry for such forward teasing, sir. You’re known to be a Christian man and I shoulda been more respectful. But I say it’s always good to acknowledge th
e elephant in the room and then leave the door open so he can leave when he’s ready.” She shoved her hand outward and Ben grasped it, glad for the offer of friendship. “We’re happy to have you on board with us, Mr. Lamar.”
“Please, call me Ben.” He glanced toward the cleared area in need of mowing, benches and tables that required repair and the surrounding woods overgrown with patches of briars and scrub brush. “Would you mind if I take a look around by myself? I’d like to step off the boundaries and see just how much reclamation work there is to be done. When I hold the press conference I want to be able to speak to this particular project from personal experience.”
“Oh, please do. We need hands-on volunteers, folks who aren’t afraid of muscle aches or grass stains. You’ll be a perfect spokesperson.” Her broad smile twisted into a frown of concern. “Only, take care about the south border of the property. The area along that fence line is always filthy with vagrant trash. When the sheriff has time to donate an afternoon we’ll get it cleaned up. But everybody’s afraid to go out there without a police escort. There’s no tellin’ what dangerous no-accounts hang out in those woods.”
“I’ll be careful,” he promised, not believing there could be that much to worry about. So, a few transients left their burger sacks behind. How bad could it be?
Ben agreed to contact Mary that evening with a press conference date as soon as he spoke with Randy. The Lend a Hand volunteers headed home for Sunday supper and Ben changed into his hiking boots for a closer look at the park and cemetery.
By the time the fence ran out and made a ninety-degree turn to mark the southern border of the property, Ben was sweaty from the oppressive afternoon heat and itchy from mosquito bites that swelled up like goose eggs. But other than the buzzing of hungry flies the wood was mostly quiet.
What appeared to be a cluster of moss-covered stumps in the distance turned out to be a dozen or more crude grave markers. Ben dropped to one knee, gave thanks for the blessings in his life and prayed for the unknown souls of those long ago laid to rest beneath his feet.
“This isn’t right. These people were courageous and they deserve respect, not an anonymous hiding place.”
He imagined what the cemetery must have looked like almost two hundred years ago, chosen for its peaceful silence interrupted occasionally by chirping or croaking. It would take equipment and work to restore the setting, but it was doable and so worth the effort.
Voices in the distance brought Ben to his feet. He should turn back. He recalled the warning about “dangerous no-accounts” but his nerves were undisturbed by fear. He turned his hearing to the sounds and listened for anything audible. Now and again there was laughter, young male and female voices.
Kids?
He had to find out.
The thick cushion of brush absorbed his steps, keeping his approach quiet as he moved toward the sounds. A flash of color sent him ducking behind the thick trunk of an evergreen. He peered around the knobby bark feeling like a coward but figuring safe was better than sorry.
A woman’s voice floated above the others, sending a series of shivers down his spine like aftershocks following an earthquake.
Pop-ping! Pop-ping! Pop-ping! The quiet of the wood shattered with the tinny noise of pellets bouncing off a metal target.
The woman laughed and called out, “Y’all are gonna get us thrown in jail!”
The husky voice was unmistakable.
Ali.
Chapter Sixteen
Ali grimaced at the scabbed-over skull and crossbones on the backside of the young man’s shaved head as he moved to set ancient soda cans back up on the fence posts. Lenny was the unofficial leader of her present crop of Sunday Kids. Abused and homeless, they kept Ali cognizant of the life she’d managed to escape and she gave them guidance and hope for the future. She was definitely on the winning end of their arrangement, grateful they trusted her enough to show up at this appointed place each week.
“Aww, jail ain’t so bad, Doc,” Lenny called across his shoulder. “I’d choose it over my old man’s trailer in a hot minute. At least down at county you get a semi-private room and three squares a day.”
How sad that at nineteen Lenny should be so knowledgeable about the correctional system. Sadder still that lockup was safer than being with his family.
But Ali understood.
“Lenny, I bet that new tat hurt.” Carla scowled, her face crinkling like the wad of pink chewing gum she’d just stuck to the fallen tree where Ali was perched.
“You should know,” Deena accused. “You got more ink than Tommy Lee.”
Carla held both arms outstretched, admiring the full-sleeve tribal symbols she’d probably gone hungry to afford.
“Bug off, Deena Beana.” Lenny teased both girls who were more like little sisters to him than the streetwise kids they’d been forced to become. “When are you gonna grow some courage and do more than poke holes in your face?” He ambled back from the tower of cans and prepared to reload his ancient pellet gun for Carla’s turn.
“If I get accepted into nursing school someday like Josie did, I can take the ring out of my eyebrows and lips. What are you gonna do—wear a stocking cap the rest of your life to cover your artwork?”
“Ever heard of growing hair?” Carla asked as she reached for the weak excuse for a target practice pistol.
“Not that a full head of hair is of any interest to me.” She chuckled, then patted her one hot pink strand that swooped the top of her head, á la Donald Trump.
All four broke into a fit of silly laughter as if they hadn’t a care in the world.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” Ali dug into the backpack for provisions. She tossed sandwiches, candy bars and juice boxes around the makeshift camp. The teens pretended disinterest before tearing into the food. Looking down into Simba’s eyes Ali feared these kids might never learn to trust as simply as her pet did.
Father, bless this meal to the nourishment of their brutalized bodies and give me words of wisdom and compassion to make a difference in their lives.
The silent prayer she sent up would have to be enough. They’d scurry like wood rats if she dared to reach out with anything more.
During another round of snacks the three forgot Ali was from the outside and talked about their dreams. Yes, even kids on the street want better. Josie was a success story Ali hoped to replicate many times over. No, she couldn’t bring every Sunday Kid into her home, but Josie had taken bold steps on her own toward education. With a little short-term support and encouragement, she was on her way to a secure future.
A tiny red light winked from the BlackBerry clipped to Ali’s belt. A quick peek at the screen said it was the message she’d hoped for. Deena noticed the distraction.
“Hey, I thought you said you were gonna get rid of that thing.”
Ali smiled at the idea. “That was just wishful thinking on a day when I was tired. Y’all know I’m on call twenty-four seven. If I got rid of this high-tech gadget, the rescue dispatcher couldn’t reach me and neither could you if you ever wanted to try.” She stood, handed over the camo backpack she’d found at a thrift store for Lenny.
“Gotta go?” There was disappointment in his voice, a far cry from the first time she’d shown up at their spot.
“Yep. Duty calls.”
“But this is our Sunday time and tomorrow’s a holiday. Why don’t you tell them to leave you alone?”
“Maybe I don’t want to be left alone.” And maybe one day, with God’s help her Sunday Kids wouldn’t either.
Ali silenced the 60 Minutes news show with the mute button, leaned against the soft leather of her modular sofa and toed off her sneakers to plop bare heels on the ottoman.
She punched Benjamin’s private number into her cell and waited for his answer. Even after leaving two messages on the home phone he hadn’t returned her calls. If he didn’t pick up this time she’d get back into the Land Rover and make the drive out to his place to reassure herself nothing wa
s wrong and to surprise Ethan with her news in person.
“Ben Lamar here,” his voice was brusque. Was she intruding?
“Hey, it’s Ali.”
“Are you okay?” he snapped, sounding more like Ethan than Benjamin.
“Yes, of course. Why would you ask that?”
“How about because you’ve made it clear your Sundays are off limits to me and Ethan and you’ve never called me on this line before.”
“Oooookay, well, I have some news that can’t wait and there was no answer on your house phone.”
“I’m cleaning the pool on the odd chance Ethan might want to use it tomorrow while we’re out back.”
It sounded like Ben was expecting company for Memorial Day. Could he have a date? Well, of course he could, Einstein! He’s only the most eligible bachelor in the Lone Star State.
Her spirits plunged at the thought.
“Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting anything that can’t wait. Tell me what’s so important.” He reminded her of the reason for the call.
“I know tomorrow’s a holiday and you seem to have plans, but could you drop Ethan off at the university in the morning? I’d come get him myself but I don’t want to stir up any new trouble for either of us.”
“You got the clearance you needed?” He seemed pleased, less tense.
“Yep, the message came through a little while ago. The security guard has instructions to let us into the geologic exhibit and give us free access. It’s not like we can do a lot of damage to hunks of rock anyway, but I hear the library houses some rare fossils, priceless kinda stuff. By the way, did you know Texas has a state dinosaur that lived during the early Cretaceous period?”
“No, but I’m positive Ethan does. I’ll be sure to remind him to look and not touch.”
“So you’ll bring him?”
“Of course,” Benjamin agreed.
Ali wanted to clap her hands like an excited kid.