A Path Less Traveled

by Cathy Bryant

  “Whoa, a gusher! What happened?”

  Trish licked water from her lips and put a hand over the fountain, but only managed to spray herself more. Tears formed and slid down her cheeks. At least they weren’t visible with all the water on her face.

  Bo dissolved into giggles. It had been so long since he’d laughed full out with nothing to hold him back. On a whim, she allowed the water to shoot between her fingers and sprayed him. He squealed and laughed even harder.

  Her clothes dripped as she hurried to the linen closet down the hall and grabbed a stack of towels. She placed one on top of the geyser. In a matter of seconds it turned from dusty gray to slate. As she moved to grab another towel, the microwave clock glared the time. Andy.

  With one hand on the soaked towels, she reached for her cell phone and dialed his number.

  “Hey, where are you?” His voice held an exasperated edge.

  “I’m sorry I’m late, but we’ve had a minor crisis.”

  “What’s wrong?” His tone took on immediate concern.

  Trish grabbed another towel and plopped it on top. “The kitchen faucet broke and is shooting water everywhere. I’m going to have to call a plumber.” The thought subdued her. How much would that cost?

  “Don’t call yet. I’m on my way. Look under the sink. There should be water shut-off valves.”

  She opened the cabinet doors and peered under. Two eye-shaped valves stared back. “Yeah, I see them.”

  “Turn them both off and stay put. I’ll be there ASAP.” The phone clicked, and the line went dead.

  Trish followed his instructions, and miraculously, the geyser stopped. She turned to survey the damage. Water everywhere. “Here, Bo.” She threw a dry towel his way. “Use this to dry yourself off, then start mopping up the water.”

  They’d just about finished when Andy tapped on the door leading in from the garage. Trish motioned him in. Bo dashed to him and latched onto one leg.

  “Hey, buddy.” Andy hoisted him into the air, then sat him on his feet with a pat on the back.

  Bo smiled and took off toward his room.

  Dressed in cargo shorts, a University of Texas t-shirt, and flip-flops, Andy smelled of soap, and his eyes held a devilish glint that teased her. “Do you always take a shower fully clothed?”

  “Very funny.” She closed the door against the escalating outside heat. “Tell me again why you’re here.”

  “Just call me Mr. Fix-It.” He dangled a plastic bag from B & B Hardware on two fingers.

  Once again, Andy—or Mr. Fix-It, as he’d put it—to the rescue.

  A half hour later he reached under the sink to turn on the valves. “That should do it.” He lifted the faucet handle and water streamed from the spout. A dimpled grin appeared on his face.

  “Thanks.” Unexplainable annoyance flashed through her. “How’d you know what to do?”

  He shrugged. “It’s just a guy thing.”

  From nowhere, a memory scuttled to the forefront of her thoughts. She’d had a flat tire and called Doc for help. He’d left his clinic to come change the flat. Without warning, tears escaped down her cheek. She swiveled to hide them.

  Behind her, Andy cleared his throat. “Actually, a guy I worked for in high school was a building contractor and a jack-of-all-trades. He taught me.” His soft tone of voice told her that he’d seen her tears. “You okay?”

  Trish wiped the tears and turned to face him. “Yeah. I just never know when something will set me off. Little things, you know, like walking into the living room and seeing his favorite chair empty, or hearing a car drive up and wondering if its him.” She shook off the pain, leaned against the granite counter, and crossed her arms, suddenly feeling inept. “Is there anything you’re not good at?”

  Andy’s eyebrows rose. “Of course.” He dried his hands on a towel.

  “Such as?”

  “Such as carrying heavy boxes full of candles and glass globes.” He winked and launched the soppy hand towel her direction. “Now it’s your turn to help me, but you might wanna change first.”

  Trish eyed her soaked jeans and t-shirt. No telling what her face and hair looked like. “Gee, you think?”

  Little Bo entered the room and stood quietly, his baseball glove in one hand and a ball in the other.

  Andy’s lips once more curled into a smile. “Why don’t you change while Bo and I have a quick game of catch?”

  “Yippee!” Bo scooted for the door, but Andy captured him and swung him up on one shoulder, much to her son’s delight. Laughter gurgled from him.

  She grinned as the two exited, then immediately sobered. Andy’s first day in Miller’s Creek, and Little Bo was already attached. Thank goodness, she wasn’t.

  * * * * *

  Andy looked on as Trish wrestled the silk ficus tree into place, its leaves rustling. The grayish white tree trunk contrasted with the slate gray wall she’d painted during the week. His gaze traveled around the office to the wrought iron lamps with the Texas lone star, then on to the brown leather sofa, antique oak desk, credenza, and barrister shelves.

  She’d done a remarkable job in a short period of time, and now he’d be ready to open up shop on Monday. A quick glance at the clock made his shoulders sag. He wasn’t ready for the time with Bo and Trish to end. How could he prolong their time together? All morning long, Trish had maintained a cool distance that gnawed at him like a fish nibbling bait. She had erected a wall, and the sooner he climbed over it the better.

  “Is something wrong?” A frown sent wavy lines scurrying across her forehead.

  “Not at all. I just can’t believe what all you’ve accomplished in one week’s time.”

  Her lips curved in a pleased smile. “Thanks. I’m glad you like it. The color of this focal wall is dark, but I knew it would work with all the natural light.”

  “It’s perfect.” Exactly what he would’ve picked had he chosen it himself. His mind returned to the interior of her house. It had been perfect, too, everything neat and orderly. In fact, too neat, especially compared to her dusty studio and overgrown flower garden.

  “I didn’t have time to purchase artwork. I’ll do that next week.”

  The weathered gray of the fence post in the painting he’d seen at church would look great on the empty wall. He started to mention it, but thought better of it. Things were going well enough at the moment, and he didn’t dare say anything to ruin the tentative peace.

  With his baseball and glove, Little Bo slouched on the couch, his cap pulled low on his head, but not low enough to conceal his boredom.

  Andy reached over and tugged the cap sideways. Bo giggled and turned it back to its place.

  “Bo, you know better than to wear that cap indoors.” Trish’s voice snapped.

  The boy didn’t look up, but in slow motion removed the cap from his head, which sagged to his chest. He let his arm fall onto the couch, where it squeaked as it landed against the leather.

  “Aw, c’mon.” Andy teased. “Give the kid a break. It’s Saturday. The cap doesn’t bother me.”

  Trish’s stormy look gusted across him. “He’s my son, not yours.”

  He raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. She was right. He had to be careful not to overstep the boundaries.

  “Mom, I’m hungry.” Bo whined his words.

  It was past noon. Maybe he could treat them to lunch. Would she go for it?

  Trish eyed the bronze clock on the wall. “I think we’re almost finished here then we can go home and fix you a grilled cheese sandwich.”

  Bo released an exasperated breath between protruding lips. “I’m tired of grilled cheese sandwiches all the time.”

  “How ‘bout lunch on me?” Andy stuck his hands in his pockets and jangled his car keys. “I noticed a new Mexican food place in town. Thought we might check it out.”

  Little Bo brightened. “Can we, Mom?”

  She turned her head to one side, lips skewed, her features crossed with doubt. “I’m not sure it’
s a good idea. You have homework to do before the baseball meeting this afternoon.”

  Bo folded his arms and harrumphed. “We never have any fun.”

  Andy grinned at Trish, not above doing a little pleading and pouting himself. “Please. I don’t want to eat alone my first day in town, and I’m really hungry for fajitas.”

  She studied him with cautious eyes.

  “You’d be doing a starving man a big favor.”

  “Oh, all right.” She grinned and threw both hands in the air in defeat.

  Little Bo bounded from the couch and encircled Andy’s legs with a bear hug. “Thanks, Andy!”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Aren’t you forgetting who you really need to thank?” Andy tousled his silky brown hair.

  Bo turned and scuttled from the room. “Oh yeah, thanks, Mom.”

  A few minutes later they arrived at the house now converted into a restaurant. For a Saturday, the dirt parking lot at Soldano’s was packed. All eyes in the place latched on them as they entered the room decorated to look like a hacienda. No telling what kind of rumors would spread.

  The unmistakable smell of Tex-Mex cuisine floated in the air, and Andy’s stomach growled. A beautiful Hispanic girl dressed in a traditional Mexican blouse and skirt led them to their table, her dark hair rivering down her back.

  “Good to see you, Gracie.” Trish hugged her, then scooted into the booth beside Little Bo. “Have your classes already ended?”

  “No, I’m just home for the weekend to help Papa and my brothers.” She handed them each a menu. “I have finals next week.”

  “So how does it feel to have your freshman year of college almost behind you?” Trish opened the plastic-encased menu, but kept her eyes trained on the beaming young lady.

  “Actually because of dual credit classes, I’ll be a junior when the semester ends.”

  Andy’s eyes widened. Impressive. “What’re you studying?”

  “Political Science, but eventually I plan on getting a law degree.”

  “My kinda girl.” He extended a hand. “I’m the new city attorney, Andy Tyler.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Tyler.” Gracie gushed as she shook his hand a little over-enthusiastically. “Mr. Braddock said you’d be coming to town, but I didn’t expect you so soon. Will you need a clerk or receptionist for the summer?”

  Man, this girl moved fast. “Well, I might. Depends on how much work I’m able to scrounge up.”

  “Here’s my phone number.” She jotted it on the back of an order ticket, ripped it off, and handed it to him. “Please give me a call if you need some help. I’m a very hard worker.”

  “I can tell.”

  “What can I get you to drink?”

  They gave their orders, and as the girl whisked away from the table, Andy popped a chip loaded with spicy salsa in his mouth. “So tell me more about Gracie. I take it her last name is Soldano?”

  “Yes. Her mother died when she was twelve. She has four older brothers. A sweet girl with high expectations and a strong work ethic.”

  “Sounds like the right person for the job.”

  “You couldn’t do any better.”

  A few minutes later, their food arrived. The fajitas turned out to be some of the best he’d eaten, tender and juicy, with just a hint of lime and cilantro, and the tortillas were hot, fresh, and homemade.

  Across the table, Trish scarfed down her food. A frown furrowed his face. Maybe she was just a healthy eater. She devoured another enchilada in four bites. Then again, maybe she was starving to death.

  He attempted to draw her into conversation, but with no luck. She maintained her cool façade, almost as if she were determined to keep distance between them.

  When they left the restaurant a while later, Trish checked her watch. “Well, Bo, it looks like we’re going to the park. Your baseball meeting is only forty minutes away. By the time we got to the ranch it’d be time to turn around and come back. Might as well stay in town.”

  “All right!” Bo bounced up and down while Trish admonished him to be a little quieter.

  Now was his chance. He had a million things to do, but he wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to spend more time with them. “Mind if I tag along?”

  Her eyes rounded. “Uh, no, I don’t guess.” She twisted her lips to one side and gazed at the ground.

  “I don’t have to if you don’t want me. Just sounded like fun.”

  She raised a hand. “No, please, you’re more than welcome to join us.” Her answer came a little too quickly to ring true.

  Bo positioned himself in front of Andy, his head tilted. “Maybe me and you can play some more catch. I need lots and lots of practice.”

  “Sounds like a plan, little man.”

  Bo chortled and raced ahead of them.

  A few minutes later, they pulled into Creekside Park, two blocks from Andy’s office and apartment on the top floor of City Hall. The creek, bordered by gnarly-barked oaks, bubbled its song into the spring day. Nearby a cardinal joined in.

  Bo made a bee-line for the fort-like structure in the center of the park.

  Andy turned to face Trish. Good, time alone to get to know her better.

  Trish patted her stomach. “If I ate like that everyday I’d weigh two tons. And by the way, thanks for lunch.”

  “You’re welcome, and you don’t have to worry about the two-ton thing. If anything, you could stand to eat more. You look a little scrawny to me.”

  She yanked her head toward him, a frown darkening her face.

  Man, it didn’t take much to set her off. He sent a teasing wink and smile.

  Trish emitted a forced laugh. “Let’s walk to the creek. There’s a boulder near the water’s edge where I can sit and keep an eye on Bo.” They’d only taken a few steps before she spoke again. “So tell me about your family.”

  Andy tensed. He hadn’t planned on this line of conversation. “Just me and my younger brother. He’s going to school at the University of Texas.”

  Trish gave a soft laugh. “Don’t tell my Aggie brother. And what about your parents?”

  “No longer in the picture.” He tried to keep his tone light. As they passed an oak tree, he snapped off a twig and broke it into two pieces, tossing them both to the ground.

  “Sorry to hear that. Sounds rough.” Her questioning eyes softened.

  “Yep.” Enough of this. “How’s your work going?”

  Her chin rose, and she inhaled sharply. “Fine. I have a pretty good job prospect.”

  His heart skipped a beat. Was she still considering the Austin job? If so, what if he’d relocated to Miller’s Creek just as she and Little Bo moved somewhere else?

  Chapter 11

  Andy crammed the last bite of ice cream cone he’d bought at the new drugstore into his mouth, then crunched and swallowed. He swung open the glass door for Trish to enter Miller’s Creek Community Center, which sat on the opposite side of the square from City Hall. A group of guys, deep in a heated discussion, sported t-shirts, jeans, and baseball caps and congregated at the front of the dark room near a long folding table plastered with papers. The room was full of dads and their excited boys, the noise level and sweaty body smells escalating by the second.

  The strained look on Trish’s face revealed her discomfort. Only two other women were in the room. This had to be difficult. Was she thinking about her husband again?

  Little Bo didn’t look much better as he craned his neck toward his mother. “Mom, please don’t make me do this. I don’t wanna play T-ball.” His subdued words trembled.

  She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “But you love baseball. Remember how much fun you had last year?”

  Little Bo didn’t answer. Instead, he viewed the other boys sitting with their dads, and his eyes took on sorrow.

  Trish turned to Andy, her eyes pleading.

  He knelt beside Bo. “Why don’t we just stick around long enough to see what they have to say? Then you can make your decision. How’s that sound?
”

  Bo nodded. Trish sent an appreciative smile, then made her way to three folding chairs on the back row. The chairs squeaked and rattled as they sat.

  The guy wearing a John Deere cap placed a thumb and finger at the corners of his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. “Okay, y’all settle down. I know you’re excited about the new season, so let’s get started. We’ll begin with T-ball.”

  A few groans sounded from the audience. Andy couldn’t tell if it was the older boys or their dads.

  The John Deere man continued. “We have enough boys signed up for four teams, but only three coaches. Any of you willing to take on a team of energetic five- and six-year-olds?”

  A few guffaws and negative comments sounded, but no one volunteered. The man waited, his eyes scanning the room.

  Coaching a team would definitely help him get involved in the community, but would he have time with a new practice? Andy glanced at Little Bo, his thoughts on Lester and the older man’s impact on his life. This was his chance to make a difference in the life of a young boy who needed him. He stood. “I’ll do it.”

  Faces turned toward him, some not so friendly. The man’s eyes narrowed. “Sorry, sir, don’t believe I know you.”

  “Andy Tyler, the new city attorney.” The words echoed in the now eerily quiet room.

  “Nice to meet you. Welcome.” The words didn’t match the man’s unsmiling face. “You have any coaching experience?”

  “No, sir, but I played ball all through college.”

  The man let out a short laugh. “Playing college ball is a lot different than handling a bunch of rowdy boys. You sure you’re up for the challenge?” Masculine laughter reverberated from the brick walls.

  Heat crept up his neck. “I’m game.”

  The man waited a long minute. “Any objections?” Whispered discussions took place across the room, but no one spoke up. Another long minute passed. “Okay. You’re hired. Before you leave we’ll need you to fill out the paperwork authorizing a criminal background check.”

  His heartbeat thundering in his ears, Andy took his seat, an immediate wave of doubt flooding over him. What had he just gotten himself into?