It had been very good for him.
In the porch light her blue eyes darkened. “Are you all right? I heard you came home because of something to do with that bull rider who was killed.”
He shifted his weight from one boot to the other and hefted a shoulder. “Randy was his name.”
“You were close?”
Chance rubbed the edge of a curling porch board with his boot and fought a tightness in his chest. “I’d been witnessing to him. I’d known him for a while though he was only twenty-five. I felt responsible for him.”
“It must have been really hard on you.”
“Yeah.” He inhaled the chilling air, feeling cold to the bone. “Harder on Randy. He just needed a little more time.”
She startled him by placing a hand on his arm. He could feel the warmth of it through his jacket. The simple act warmed his heart more than any words could have.
“You could only do what you could do. You can’t make choices for other people.”
His mood shifted suddenly and he gave a harsh laugh. “Boy, don’t I know it.”
She squeezed his arm and then tucked her hand back into her jacket. He felt colder instantly.
“I know what you’re feeling about that,” she said. “If it had been up to me I’d have made several decisions for others in my life. But it wasn’t possible. For my children, yes, and I made the most important one for them when I took them to the shelter in L.A. I know that I only have them for a short season in life and then they’ll be on their own. I’ll be praying that I did everything and gave them everything I could to help them make the right choices. That’s all you could do for your friend. For Randy.”
He hadn’t told anyone else how he felt about the drugs.
Other than Wyatt. “I could have done more, intervened about the prescription drugs and the bad decisions he was making.”
“Maybe, but maybe not.”
He nodded. “Look, it’s cold. You better get back in side. Thanks for the evening. And the company.” He had to move. The guilt was on him once more like a heavy shroud. “Chance, wait.”
His heart thumped against his ribs when he turned to find her right beside him. “Please do come build the tree house,” she said and then she took his breath completely away when she hugged him. As easily as the breeze, she slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. Her face rested against his heart as she held on to him. She was warm and soft and smelled so sweet. And she was holding him.
By the time he tugged his hands from his coat pockets she was stepping back.
“Come tomorrow if you can. I get off at two again,” she said, smiling. She slipped inside the house.
Tiny, who’d been flopped across the bottom step, lumbered over to whine at the door.
Chance didn’t move at all. Not for a full minute.
He just stood there staring at the door.
“You hugged him!”
“Well, Nive, you had to have been there. He just needed it.”
“Hey, I didn’t ask why. I’m all for it. When he gets there this afternoon, you going to hug him again?”
“No. I just did it on the spur of the moment. He looked so sad. He feels responsible for Randy’s death. Even though you and I both know we can’t be responsible for someone else’s actions.” They’d both learned that after years of letting abusive husbands make them think it was their fault they were getting beaten. It just didn’t work that way. For anyone.
“So the kids really like him.” Nive leaned over the glass counter and put her chin in her palm. Her amber-colored hair was pulled into a messy topknot and loose tendrils fell around her heart-shaped face.
“It’s scary how they’ve attached to him.”
“It’s cool. Wonderful.”
Lynn frowned. “Nive—”
“Don’t look at me that way. Do you seriously not think you’re going to remarry?”
Lynn laid her pencil down, finished with the list she was making. “In my heart of hearts I just can’t see it happening. I mean, well, you know how it is. Those two precious boys are my responsibility. What if I made a mistake? What if I could trust a man again and he…and it turned out bad. I don’t want to think about it.”
“Are you sure you aren’t just using them as an excuse?”
“Maybe.” She was honest about it. “Because I sure can’t read my mixed-up heart. The one thing I’m positive about in life are my boys.” She loved them and they loved her and they were her life. And God loved them. She was certain about that also. So two things. Three—God had brought them here. It was good. So there were plenty of things she was sure of, but she wasn’t sure that she could ever truly open up to a man and be a wife, emotionally, physically, mentally. She had baggage even she didn’t like looking at.
If she did find a good man he would deserve more than she could give him.
“Well, I think it’s great you’re going to let him help you with that tree house. Gavin and Jack told me it was horrible.”
“The little toots!”
Nive made a face. “Seriously, Lynn. You weren’t going to let them walk around on those boards after you nailed them in? Jack said you nailed one in and it fell right off the tree and stuck in the ground. Those were his very words.”
“All the more reason to be glad I decided to let Chance help.”
“How’s the Christmas shopping going? Did you get a tree yet?”
“Nive, I just got the lights up. Hopefully we’ll get a tree this weekend, because next weekend is pageant practice. I’ve got to go. Wish me luck. I’m going to talk to Chance this afternoon about Stacy’s wedding if the time seems right. I really think he’ll do it. He’s just hurting right now. But I feel like if I just explain everything he’ll do it.”
Nive didn’t move from her position but lifted a hand and waved. “I’ll say a prayer. I want that girl married so bad it’s not funny. If ever there was a need for a happy ending it’s for Stacy… I’d even give up dreaming about my own if Stacy-girl could have hers.”
“That’s really sweet of you, Nive. But don’t worry. I feel like God has this under control.”
“Hey, He might have more than you think under control where you and this cowboy preacher are concerned.”
Lynn was opening the door when Lacy practically waddled in. Her blond, erratically wavy hair framed her adorable face and she looked a little puffy under the eyes.
“How are you?” Lynn asked, pulling the door closed to keep the cold out.
“Priscilla is kicking like an Olympic soccer player. She needs a container of peanut brittle. Now!”
Nive was already moving. “Tell her to hold her horses. I’m getting it.”
“You have eaten your weight in peanut brittle,” Lynn said.
“Yep, yep, yep, and I’ve enjoyed every ounce of it! I’m holding up my bargain and I’m off to kick my feet up at home, munch on peanut brittle and let Priscilla watch a little Love Me Tender. That Elvis movie’s got some soothing music in it, so maybe the little whirlwind will settle down and stop kicking.”
“You and Elvis.” Lynn laughed. She had her Elvispink Caddy and loved his music. “Do you think if you stopped feeding her so much sugar it might help?”
“Hey, I’m monitoring my sugar intake. I’m not eating it in anything but candy.”
“Lacy,” Lynn gasped. “You’re so bad.”
“Hey, I’m a pregnant woman.” She took the bag Nive held over the counter. “I can crave what I want. So back off, sister.” She plopped her money on the counter, grabbed a tissue from a box and greedily reached inside the bag for a piece of golden brittle. She took an exaggerated bite.
“You are crazy.” Lynn laughed.
“Blissfully. That’s the way God wants me to feel. I mean, goodness gracious—look how He’s blessed me. I certainly don’t deserve any of it, so I’m surely going to enjoy it like I’m supposed to.”
“You have got to have the most optimistic mind of anyone I’ve ever met.”
Lacy’s electric-blue eyes settled on Lynn, seriousness overtaking mirth. “Oh, Lynn, after the year it took for me to conceive I’m just so grateful.”
“It’s hard to believe it was that long.”
Lacy started to bite down on another piece of brittle but paused. “I was beginning to think I couldn’t get pregnant but it was just God’s timing. The man upstairs was just telling me to hold on to my horses till He gave me the go-ahead. And He taught me a big lesson in com passion and patience while I waited.”
That was pure Lacy, always trying to figure out what God was trying to teach her. Lynn wasn’t always so good at that.
“Well, I hate to run out on great company but I’ve got to go. Enjoy your time at home this afternoon.”
Lacy grinned. “Will do and you, too. I hear you’ve got some handsome help coming over. Y’all have fun!”
Lynn stopped with her hand on the doorknob. “And how did you know that?”
“Little birdies told me. Well, big birdies, actually. Chance told Cole when he saw him this morning that he was helping you this afternoon. Cole told Seth and Wyatt, and it went like wildfire as soon as App and Stanley got wind of it. And yes, the posse knows, too.”
Lynn let out a groan. “Great. Just great. Now everyone will instantly jump to conclusions. I’m just letting the man help me build a tree house.”
“Yep and I’m only eating one piece of this brittle. Relax. Enjoy and build a great tree house. Who knows where that will lead…. Lynn and Chance, sitting in a tree. First comes love and then comes—”
“I’m outta here.” Lynn laughed despite herself and headed toward her car. She heard Lacy continue the song as the door closed behind her.
She glanced around and felt like she was sneaking out of town as she got into her car and drove down Main Street. The entire town knew Chance was coming out to her house again. And she knew exactly where it would lead. Straight to overblown hopes for love and romance, which wasn’t happening. Yes, the man was gorgeous. Good to her boys and extremely useful around the house… Her ex-husband had been none of those things. So it really felt unfair to let her experience with her ex color her view of Chance. But she painted all men with that brush where she and her boys were concerned.
Where this was going? Nowhere. She’d just gotten carried away with her soft side, and Chance had looked so woebegone and sad last night that on a crazy impulse she’d hugged him. Hugged him for a pretty long time.
An extremely nice, long time. And now she knew…
No hugging allowed. None. Zero. Never again.
Chapter Ten
“If you’ll hold this then I’ll attach it,” Chance said several hours later.
Lynn was crouched beside him, shoulder to shoulder, on the now sturdy floor of the tree house. They were using a cordless drill to attach the walls to the floor with screws. Below them the boys and Tiny ran in circles playing cowboys with their popguns. They were thrilled with the tree house.
“I would hope you know I would never have gotten this done without you. My boys would have probably hurt themselves in what I could have built them.”
Chance pushed the power button and the screw ate through the wood in less than ten seconds. He sat back on his knees and let the drill rest on his thigh. “You were trying. That says something. And the best way to learn is to be taught. I’m a good teacher, if you haven’t noticed.” He gave a cocky grin and it did crazy fluttery things to her insides.
This was a glimpse of Chance Turner, relaxed and not being so hard on himself. Until that moment she hadn’t realized exactly how difficult Randy’s death had been for him.
But now she knew his unguarded side and realized that Chance Turner could be dangerous. She tried to look unaffected and casual. “You’re a little cocky for a preacher, aren’t you?” She laughed.
“Hey, God never said a preacher was supposed to be a passive, no-personality kind of guy.”
She was hyperaware of where her jean-clad knee was touching his. “I guess you have a point.”
“You’re right, I do. Look at Peter. There was nothing about him that was passive. Passionate, yes. Passive—no way. Strong men can be Christians.”
“Hey, you sound a little defensive,” she teased, enjoying herself more than she could fathom. It was a beautiful, crisp winter day, the sun was sparkling, her children were playing and she was having an entertaining, enlightening conversation with a devastatingly hand some cowboy. It was lovely.
He crunched his straight black eyebrows. “Oh, believe me, there are some out there who think a preacher has to have a milkweed handshake and his chin to his chest. But God tells me and all His other kids to be bold. Courageous. Men of courage. Patient and kind, yes. But there is a balance.” He paused. “I guess that could sound arrogant. Believe me, I’m not. The Lord has forgiven me a lot. I’m no better than the lowest sinner out there. None of us are. But I try to be the man God would want me to be.” He took a deep breath and turned his head to the side, staring out at the cattle in the distance.
“You aren’t preaching right now. Why is that?” she asked. “You are clearly called to it.”
He was passionate. It was obvious now. But he was deeply caring and compassionate to have been so affected by one from his congregation. She guessed that was what Randy had been. Having church in an arena didn’t change that.
Chance pulled himself back from wherever his thoughts had gone and reached for another board. “I don’t have it in me. I just feel like my well is empty.” He stood the board up and she grabbed it and held it like she’d done the other one. Their fingers brushed as hers re placed his, and the butterflies that had been dancing on and off all morning exploded into motion.
She tried to concentrate on what was being discussed and the importance of it and not this attraction she was feeling toward him. “When you talk just now you don’t sound empty. You sound like a man with a lot to say and to offer. But I know what you mean. Not from a preacher’s standpoint, but I know what you mean about feeling empty. I never thought about it exactly that way, but that’s kind of how I feel about the thought of remarrying.” Why was she going there? It had just come out. “I know everyone sees me and my boys and they think it would be so lovely for me to find a good man—a cowboy—and remarry and live happily ever after.” She gave him an embarrassed smile. His eyes were serious and caring as he listened. “I’ve thought about it. But unlike Stacy, who is trying to get married, or Rose, who married Zane, I just don’t think I have in me what it takes to be a wife again. I feel like I can be a good mother.”
“You are a good mother. A great mother.”
Her heart jumped at his soft words of reassurance.
“Thank you. But as far as a wife, I feel like my well is dry, too.” She was totally embarrassed. Waving her hand, she huffed, “Ignore all of that. It isn’t anything at all like what you are feeling. I shouldn’t have even tried to make a comparison. It probably makes no sense at all.”
He set the drill down and grabbed her fluttering hand. “No. Stop. You make perfect sense. I don’t know what all you went through, but you’re a strong woman. I can tell that. You’ve come out on top here with your boys. No one can judge or even try to know someone else’s heart. But God does know, and with time He’ll heal even that dry well. One day you may be able to love again. Your time to heal is your own. No one else’s.”
He was rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand and his words comforted her…as did his touch. Lifting her chin, she looked into his eyes and felt an overwhelming sense of…assurance. He was good at what God had called him to do.
“Thank you,” she said. “I was feeling some pressure from several sides.”
“They mean well.” He winked and gently laid her hand on her knee, patting the back of it once before picking up his drill again. It was almost as if he regretted letting her hand go.
She concentrated on placing the next board of the tree house in place. Her thoughts guiltily went
to Stacy. She’d yet to ask him again to perform Stacy’s wedding. Knowing what he was going through now, she was conflicted.
“So about you?” she said. She hadn’t meant to sidetrack talking about him. “You were ministering to me just now. You do it naturally.”
“Some things come naturally. That doesn’t mean I’m not stuck on the sandbar in the middle of river. I’m sorry about your friend’s wedding. I’ve been thinking about that ever since you asked me, but that’s her special day and I just don’t feel like I’m where I need to be to be involved in it.”
Looking at him no one would guess Chance Turner would ever get stranded. “I wish you were. She—” Lynn stopped. This was about him right now. “And this has to do with Randy’s death.”
The pain instantly dulled his green eyes to a pale hue and his handsome features went slack with the weight of the burden he carried. Lynn’s heart cracked seeing it. She leaned the board against the attached one and gave him her full attention. “Is it that you didn’t realize he was on drugs?”
He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly through tense lips. “Funny how I can counsel and give advice and can’t get it in my own head and mind.”
A sharp stab of empathy sliced through Lynn. She got it. She understood exactly what he was saying. “I guess it’s the eighteen-inch rule. Many people miss Heaven because of the eighteen inches between their brain and their heart. The two don’t always connect.” She started to say, Believe me, I know, but held back. She couldn’t keep bringing the conversation to herself.
This was about Chance.
“I’m just taking time off, trying to find my way. Giving God time to pull me off the sandbar. Helping you and the boys is a good thing.” He lifted the drill and pulled the trigger. Twice. “So put me to work,” he said over the whirring roar.
“Okay, anything I can do.”
“Momma, can we come up there yet?” Gavin skidded to a halt at the base of the ladder.
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