The Cowboy's Family

by Minton, Brenda

  Waves rolled across the surface of the lake making it rough going for one person pedaling against the wind. But the girls didn’t mind. Rachel looked down at the two little girls, their faces up to the sun and eyes closed against the breeze.

  They were quite a distance from shore when she turned and headed them back toward the dock. Kat leaned against her, groggy, her thumb in her mouth. Rachel leaned back, her arms relaxed behind the two little girls.

  It was moments like this she ached for a child of her own. She wanted to be someone’s wife, the mother of their children.

  A few years ago she had started to doubt that dream.

  Her sister, Cynthia, had chided her for martyrdom. She said Rachel was giving up her life to take care of their parents. Rachel shrugged off that accusation. It wasn’t martyrdom, not really. It wasn’t even guilt, not anymore. It had started out that way, but over the years, when no handsome prince appeared, she stopped believing that there would be one for her.

  Cynthia had a house in the suburbs. Rachel had boxes that she kept in the closet for the next move.

  She didn’t want to think about moving again, not now with the girls next to her. If they moved, it would hurt in a way that no move had ever hurt before. She leaned to kiss Kat on the top of her head.

  Time to push these thoughts from her mind and enjoy this day. She didn’t know for certain that her dad would take a new church. He never made a decision without prayer. And Rachel was praying, too. Because she didn’t want to leave Dawson.

  The horse stood stiff-legged with Wyatt in the saddle. He really didn’t want to get thrown today. He should have stopped when he finished working the other horse, but this one couldn’t be put off. He gave the horse a nudge with his heels. The leather of the saddle creaked a little as the horse shifted. Wyatt settled into the saddle and the gelding took a few steps forward. He pushed his hat down a little because he wasn’t about to lose a brand-new hat.

  A car pulled up the drive and honked. Great.

  The horse let loose, bucking across the arena, jerking him forward and then back. Wyatt tightened his legs around the horse’s middle and held tight. Man, he really didn’t like a horse that bucked.

  Eventually the animal settled and Wyatt held him tight. The horse stood in the center of the arena, trembling a little and heaving.

  “Sorry, Buddy, I’m still back here. You aren’t my first trip to the rodeo.” He nudged the horse forward and they walked around the arena.

  They did a few laps around the arena, the horse jarring him with a gait somewhere between a walk and trot. Wyatt nodded when his mother-in-law approached the fence. He’d thank her later for the ride he hadn’t really wanted to take.

  At least the horse had calmed down and they would end this training session with the gelding remembering that Wyatt had remained in the saddle. Horses kept those memories. If they got a guy on the ground, they remembered. If you gave up on them, they remembered. If you stuck, they remembered.

  He rode up to the gate and leaned to open it. A little more of a lesson than he’d planned, but the gelding didn’t dump him. Instead he backed and then slid through the open gate with Wyatt still in the saddle.

  “I’m so sorry, Wyatt.” Violet smiled a little and shrugged. “I didn’t even think.”

  He swung his leg over and slid to the ground. “Normally it wouldn’t matter. He’s just greener than most. The people bought him as a yearling and kept him in the field for the next two years. He hadn’t been trailered or had a halter on until we brought him over here.”

  “And you’re already riding him?”

  “We’ve done a couple of weeks of ground work to get him to this point.”

  “I see.” But she didn’t. Violet wasn’t country. She had never been on a horse. A half-dozen years ago Wyatt had still been hitting rodeos and Violet had seen it as a waste of time.

  He’d quit after that year, the year he won the buckle he’d always wanted. He quit to focus on ministry, on his wife and family.

  The dog ran out of the barn and barked. Another car was coming up the drive. He groaned a little. Just what he needed, Violet and Rachel here at the same time. Rachel pulled up and his girls climbed out of her car.

  “She took them fishing.” He explained, because Violet had been gone when he got back from church. She’d left a note that she’d be back in the afternoon and she’d spend another night before going home.

  “That’s good, Wyatt.” Violet didn’t cry, but man, her eyes were overflowing.

  “They love being around her.”

  “Yes, they do. And she’s a lovely young woman.” She smiled at him as if that statement meant more. She was making a point he really didn’t want pointed out.

  “Violet, she isn’t…”

  Rachel was too close and the girls were running toward him with a stringer of perch. He shook his head and let it go. Violet could believe what she wanted. He let his gaze slide to the woman in question, to a smile that went through him with a jolt. Her hair was pulled back in a tangled mass of brown curls and her eyes sparkled with laughter.

  Violet could believe what she wanted, he repeated in his head as his attention slid back to his girls, to what really mattered.

  “Did you girls have fun?” He took the string of fish and hugged the girls close. Molly and Kat wrapped their arms around him.

  “We fished and waded and paddled a boat.” Molly smiled a big smile. Her wounded spirit was healing. He smiled up at Rachel, knowing she was partially to thank for that. Rachel and time were healing their hearts. Kat’s and Molly’s, not his.

  His didn’t feel quite as battered, but he thanked time, not Rachel. Oh, and the faith that he’d held on to, even when he hadn’t realized he was clinging to it like a life raft.

  “They had lunch and on the way home took a short nap.”

  “Thank you.” Wyatt straightened from hugging the girls, a little stiff from the wild ride he’d taken a few minutes ago. “I guess I should get inside and get cleaned up. I’m supposed to be at the church this evening to meet with your dad.”

  Rachel glanced at her watch. “I have a meeting, too. But first I’m going to drive up and see if Andie needs anything.”

  He nodded and watched her walk away. The girls were telling him all about fishing and the lake. He shifted his focus from them for just a moment to watch Rachel get in her car. She waved as she drove away, the top down on her car.

  “Wendy would have liked her.” Violet spoke softly and he couldn’t meet her gaze. His mother-in-law liked Rachel Waters.

  So where did that leave him? It left him staring after a little red convertible. The dog had come out of the barn and chased her down the drive. At least Wyatt had more sense and dignity than that.

  Rachel pulled up the long drive to Andie and Ryder’s house. She did a double take when she spotted a plane parked near the barn. What in the world?

  She got out of her car, still looking at the plane and ignoring the border collie that ran circles around her, barking and wagging its black-and-white tail to show that the barking was meant to be friendly. She reached to pet the dog and then walked up the sidewalk to ring the doorbell.

  Etta opened the door before Rachel could actually push the bell. The older woman looked beautiful as always with every hair in place and makeup perfectly applied. Today she wore jean capris and a T-shirt, no tie-dye.

  “Hey, girl, what are you doing out here?” Etta motioned her inside.

  “I took Molly and Kat fishing, then thought I’d stop and see if Andie needs anything.”

  Etta laughed. “She needs something all right. She needs off that couch. She’s driving us all crazy. It’s spring and she can’t stand being inside.”

  “I hear you talking about me,” Andie yelled from the living room.

  Etta’s brows shot up and she smiled a little, then motioned Rachel inside. She walked to the wide door that led into the living room.

  Poor Andie, pregnant with twins, flat on the couch.
The other option was the hospital. She waved Rachel in.

  “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t bite.” Andie rolled on her side. “And do not call the media and tell them there is a whale beached in Dawson.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  Andie growled a little and sighed. “Right.”

  “It’ll be worth it…”

  Andie waved her hand. “I know, I know.”

  “And it won’t take you long to get back to your old self. With babies, of course.”

  “It’s frightening.” Andie’s eyes shadowed. “Honestly, Rachel, it really is scary. Ryder and I are just learning to be responsible for ourselves, and we’re going to be responsible for two little people, for making sure they grow up to be good adults. We’re going to be responsible for their health, for their well-being, for their spiritual life.”

  “I’m sure God is going to have a little hand in it.”

  “Of course. And hopefully He’ll get us past the mistakes we’re going to make.”

  Rachel sat down in the chair next to the couch. “Train up a child in the way they should go.”

  “And when they are teens they’ll rebel and give you gray hair.” Andie laughed and the shadows dissolved.

  “Right. I think I gave my parents more than their share of gray hair during my rebellious years.”

  “I can’t picture it, you as a rebel.”

  Rachel sat back in the chair and thought about it. “I don’t know if it was rebellion or just trying to find a place where I felt included.”

  “You?”

  “Me. My sister, Cynthia, was the pretty cheerleader. Rob was studious. I was overweight and never felt like I fit in. I was always the poor pastor’s daughter in secondhand clothing, lurking at the back of the room.”

  “I’m sorry, Rach. I wish you could have grown up here.”

  “Me, too. But I went through those things for a reason. I can relate to feeling left out, afraid, unsure of who I’m supposed to be. When I tell the kids at church that this stuff is temporary, they believe me.”

  “I love you, Rachel Waters.” Andie reached for her hand. “The girls at church are lucky to have you. And before long maybe we’ll also have a new youth minister?”

  “Dad has interviewed a few people but he hasn’t landed on the right person.” Actually, her dad believed the right person was in their church and just not ready for the job. Not yet. Not until his own heart healed.

  “What about Wyatt?”

  “I’m not sure if he’s ready.”

  “No, I mean, what about Wyatt?” Andie’s smile changed and her eyes twinkled with mischief. “He’s pretty hot.”

  “He’s pretty taken and your brother-in-law.”

  “Taken?”

  Humor and laughter faded. Andie’s head tilted to the side and she waited.

  “He still wears his wedding band.”

  “Of course. I think he hasn’t thought to take it off.” Andie grimaced a little. “These two are really doing the tango in there.”

  “Do you need me to get Etta or Ryder?”

  Andie shook her head. “Nope, not yet. It’s just occasional kicks and a few twinges. When the contractions really hit, I won’t be this calm.”

  Rachel left a few minutes later. As she drove down the drive and turned back in the direction of Dawson, her thoughts turned again to Wyatt Johnson.

  He was a complication. She smiled because it was the first time she’d found the perfect label for him. Complication.

  How did people deal with a complication like that, one that made them forget convictions, forget past pain, made them want to take chances?

  It seemed easy enough. Stay away. That was the key to dealing with temptation, resist it. Turn away from it. Not toward it.

  She’d learned to resist the lure of chocolate cake, so surely she could learn to resist Wyatt Johnson. After all, she really, really loved chocolate cake.

  Chapter Ten

  It felt pretty strange, walking out of church with the sun setting, and his girls not with him. Wyatt reached into his pocket for his keys. He waved goodbye to Pastor Waters and headed for his truck.

  Slowly, little by little, he was getting back to his life. Or at least the life he now had. That included faith. He could deal with life, with being alive.

  Pastor Waters had helped him through the anger part of his grief. Wyatt had been working through the questions that had haunted him, kept him up at night.

  Why had God allowed Wendy to take those pills? Why hadn’t God stopped her from getting them, or stopped her from taking them? Why hadn’t God sent someone to keep her from doing that to them? To herself?

  Wyatt exhaled, but it didn’t hurt the way it once did. He stopped at his truck but didn’t get in. Instead he walked to the back of the truck and put the tailgate down. A few minutes alone wasn’t going to hurt him. The girls were good with Violet.

  He sat on the tailgate.

  God hadn’t stopped Wendy from breaking his heart. He closed his eyes and man, the anger still got to him. It was easier to be mad at God than to be mad at Wendy. She had made a choice. She had gone to a doctor who hadn’t known about her depression, got pills Wyatt hadn’t known about and had taken those pills.

  After counseling. After prayer. After it seemed that she was doing better.

  She’d made a choice to ignore the voice that probably tried to intervene, telling her to stop, to call someone, to give God a chance. God had been there the day she took those pills, probably pleading in His quiet way, trying to get her attention. And she’d made a choice.

  Wyatt had to let go of blaming himself and God. He had to let go of blaming her. She’d been far sicker than any of them realized. She’d been hurting more than he knew.

  A voice, real, clear, fresh, carried across the lawn of the church. He opened his eyes and listened to her sing. Rachel. He couldn’t see her but he saw her car on the other side of the church. He hadn’t realized she was still there.

  He listened carefully to words that were far away. She was singing about falling down in the presence of God.

  After a few minutes there was silence. The door of the church thudded closed. He watched as she walked down the sidewalk, away from him, not even realizing he was watching. He smiled a little because when no one was watching, she had a fast walk, almost a skip. She had changed from shorts and a T-shirt to a dress and cowboy boots.

  A few minutes later he listened as she tried to start her car. The starter clicked but the engine didn’t turn over. So much for casual spying without getting caught. He hopped down from the back of the truck and headed her way.

  She sat behind the wheel of the convertible, the top down. When she spotted him she looked surprised and a little smile tilted her mouth.

  “Problem?” He leaned in close and her scent wrapped around him. Oriental perfume, peppermint gum and wild cherry lip gloss.

  “No, not really.” She turned the key again.

  “Really?”

  She bit down on her bottom lip and shook her head. “The alternator has been making a funny noise. Dad said it was about to go.”

  “Oh. That isn’t something I can fix.”

  “Really?” Sarcasm laced her tone and he laughed.

  “Really.” He opened her car door. “But I can give you a ride home.”

  “Thank you.” She stepped out of the car. Up close the dress had tiny flowers and she was wearing a jean jacket over it. He was used to seeing her in jeans. She reached into the back of the car for her purse and the bag she carried each week. He knew it usually contained cookies and craft projects for the nursery. On Wednesdays she worked with teen girls. She was always busy.

  He took the bag from her hands. “Let me carry that for you.”

  She smiled and let him take it. “I didn’t expect you to still be here.”

  “I had a meeting with your dad.”

  “Oh, that’s right.”

  He wondered if she knew, but he doubted she did. Pastor W
aters wasn’t the type to talk, not even to his family, about church business or counseling sessions.

  “Have you had dinner?” He opened the passenger-side truck door for her and she climbed in.

  “No.”

  “I would take you out, but the only thing open is the convenience store. How about a slice of pizza and a frozen slush?” He stood in the door of the truck, waiting for her answer.

  She finally nodded. “Sounds good.”

  No, it sounded like trouble. But he’d offered and now he had to follow through. He shut her door and then he whistled low and walked around to climb in on his side.

  He started his truck and backed out of the parking space. A quick glance right and Rachel was staring out the window, her hands in her lap, fingers clasped. He smiled because he hadn’t expected her to be nervous.

  The smile faded pretty quickly when he realized he felt a little like wringing his own hands. What was he, sixteen? Not even close. He was double that and then some. But when was the last time he’d been alone with a woman who wasn’t his wife? Other than his mother-in-law or Andie, when he drove her to the doctor once a couple of months back, it had been a long time.

  At least he still knew the basics. Open the door for her. Buy her a nice dinner. Or the closest thing to a nice dinner. Walk her to the door when he took her home.

  Kiss her goodnight?

  He shifted gears and cruised down the back road that led the few blocks to the convenience store. The evening was warm and humid. He rolled down the windows and wind whipped through the cab of the truck.

  Rachel continued to stare out the window. She reached up to hold her hair in place as it blew around her face. They passed a few houses and people in their yards turned to wave. Well, at least everyone in town would know tomorrow that he’d been spotted with Rachel Waters.

  Good or bad, it would get around.

  “Want me to roll up the window?”

  She shook her head and finally turned to look at him, smiling a little. She had a dimple in one cheek, and he noticed for the first time that her hair glinted with hints of auburn. He was a man, he wasn’t supposed to remember details.