One and Done (Red River Romance Book 3)

by Caryl McAdoo

  The way she beat herself up about it pained his heart, but maybe that was a part of the Lord’s whole plan. He could be using it to bring her to Him. Maybe tonight…

  Soften her heart, Father, and strengthen mine.

  He stopped in front of a big ol’ brick and rock two-story, a beautiful home with lots of color in its landscape, both flowers and plants. Half a dozen or so cars lined the street on both sides of the driveway.

  Sammi Dan waited for him to come around and open her door.

  Such a gentleman. No way would she ever get tired of that.

  She took his hand and climbed down out of his truck. He retrieved the carry case with his ribs inside, then handed her the pineapple cake holder as though she’d made it. Another great thing about him, it being fine for her to take credit for what he did.

  Unselfish, humble, such a servant.

  With a deep breath, she stood taller. Okay now, she could handle this group thing. No biggie.

  To use a cliché, a piece of cake. Speaking of which, she couldn’t wait to try his pineapple cake. The cream cheese frosting tasted delicious. She’d licked the bowl and the knife he used to spread it.

  She’d visited a court-ordered NA meeting with a friend coming off meth as a support for him a few times. The home group couldn’t be any worse than one of those twelve-step meetings.

  Poor guy, last she heard, he was back at it. That stuff ruined lives, so many of her generation, and even some of her parents’ friends.

  Gij pushed the doorbell. If the inside looked as nice as the outside, at least she wouldn’t have to sit on a lopsided metal folding chair for hours. The hostess, a pleasant looking lady about her mother’s age, greeted them at the door then started intros, calling him George Johnson and her just Samantha.

  It tickled her seeing so many of them trying to place where they knew her from. Wasn’t long before a couple of the men realized exactly who Gij was, and then who she was, and a flurry of questions swirled all around her and her man.

  Sammi Dan loved the attention, but hated it that she got trapped with the ladies while Gij got to talk baseball. And they didn’t seem to care at all that she was a TV personality.

  Soon enough, the food dishes covered the counters and drinks filled the island. The host joined hands with his wife and announced it was time to pray and eat.

  They had a dining table that seated ten and several smaller tables set up close by. All the dishes tasted so good, but his ribs, so tender that the meat fell off the bone, delighted her taste buds, even better than they smelled. The man could cook.

  Mental note—start a restaurant. It’d make a pile of money a show dog couldn’t jump over. What a hoot. Gij and Sammi Dan’s BBQ joint, except it would be like the fanciest place ever.

  Her mind’s eye pictured his den expanded to three times its size with lots of little nooks holding one or three tables, each running off here and there. He could recreate one of his rock patios at one end. She liked it.

  Of course, someone else would run it. She and Gij would stop in every now and then for lunch or dinner and check on things.

  He slipped his hand over hers. She shook off the daydream and focused. Everyone migrated to the other end of the open room that acted as what her daddy would call the den. More folks had slipped in, had to be at least thirty people there.

  Okay. Gij led her to the couch. She eased down in the middle then he took the corner and she scooted closer to him.

  The gathering was good so far, her sitting in tight next to him. She’d be safe, and he could help keep her awake during the boring parts.

  Then the hostess, Roberta, shook a little tambourine and the tinkling filled the air with an excitement. She started singing about it being the day the Lord had made. Everyone, even Gij, joined in the lively tune.

  Definitely kind of catchy. A beautiful high voice sounded, and she looked around to see who sang it. A long-haired lady with a big smile harmonized to the hostess’s melody.

  At the end, she started the tune all over again. That time, Sammi Dan joined in, and just about the time she finally got it down pat, Roberta changed songs—another fast happy one extolling the greatness of God.

  Several more followed with no break or announcement of the tunes. And different people started them. Had they planned it all ahead of time?

  Maybe certain ones had turns.

  Whatever their method, she liked it.

  She’d never heard the likes of these songs, but they were easy to pick up on. For the longest, they sang one lively tune after another, then as though someone gave a signal, a hush fell over the room.

  But it wasn’t awkward. Others closed their eyes; Gij had, too, so she followed suit. A sweet warmth settled over her; perfectly at peace, she waited in the silence.

  Then someone started another song about a deer wanting water and the man’s soul longing for God. Wow, longing for Him. She could see that. The tune slowed the beat greatly from the previous ones.

  You alone, he sang. Sammi Dan drank in the words, declaring the Lord was the only strength and shield. She didn’t even try to sing along, just listened. “You alone are my heart’s desire and I long to worship You.”

  It was beautiful. And touching.

  Again, the man started back at the beginning as soon as the song ended. Everyone was singing along. Gij had a lovely deep voice and sang the words as though they were so true in his heart, his soul.

  After four or five times through, a lady started another slow one and they went on for a while, maybe an hour, maybe more, but she enjoyed it and never felt an urgency for them to stop singing and get on with it.

  Then one guy held his hands up into the air toward the ceiling, and everyone hushed even though almost all their eyes were closed. How could they tell? “It’s getting late folks, any prayer requests before we leave?”

  Leave? That was it? It seemed she’d just got there. Hot apple pie with vanilla ice cream! Where were the boring parts? Every church she’d ever gone to had a boring part.

  The hostess pulled out a spiral, and at least half of folks told the lady what they wanted from God. Most asked for something for someone else, then the lady’s gaze rested on her. “Any prayer requests, Samantha?”

  She smiled. “Please, call me Sammi Dan, and yes, I’d like for Gij to no-hit the A’s when they come to town.”

  A light round of chuckles circled the room. Her face burned. Should she not have asked for such a thing?

  Did their God have too many way more important prayers to answer?

  The lady smiled back then wrote it down. “Will that be before next week’s meeting?”

  Sammi Dan glanced at Gij; he shook his head, then he faced the lady again.

  “A week from tomorrow.”

  She tried to picture the Ranger’s schedule, but couldn’t. Her cheeks burned. She should have just said no when asked. She needed to pay better attention and keep her wits about her. She looked back to him. “Okay, when’s your next start?”

  “Sunday against the Pirates.”

  Rotten eggs. The Pirates were like red hot tamales. “Pittsburgh’s coming here?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She faced the prayer request lady. “How about just a shutout for the Pirates then a no-no against the A’s?”

  The lady’s husband looked like he was about to bust a gut trying not to laugh. The hostess elbowed him. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “Miss Sammi there sure isn’t asking much.”

  “Hey, there’s nothing’s too hard for God.”

  Sammi Dan appreciated the lady taking up for her. She thought God could do anything, and so did Sammi Dan. After all, He’d hooked her up with the most awesome man she’d ever met and made him love her.

  Indeed, apparently nothing was too hard for Gij’s God.

  And supposedly, He knew all about her past, too.

  CHAPTER

  twENty

  “What’d you think?”

  Sammi Dan held he
r seat belt out and turned sideways, glad she didn’t have to skirt the truth. “I liked it. Everyone seemed so nice, and the food was great. I can certainly see why you prefer this over regular church.”

  “Glad you enjoyed it.”

  “Didn’t exactly say that.” She shrugged. “Not like I’ve been that much, but the services I’ve been to before were pretty boring. I was counting on you to keep me awake, but I never even got drowsy.”

  “Yes, I’ve been to a few of those traditional boring services, too. For me a small group with no set agenda is the best. Where no one person runs things, and everyone just lets the Lord have His way.”

  “Is that what it was?” She contemplated the concept and remembered a question. “Hey, what was that jar by the door that you put some money in right before we left? Do they charge?”

  “No, that’s the alms box. It goes toward a food bank the group helps support.”

  Okay, that was good. She wanted to ask him how much he put in, but figured it might be rude.

  “Five Benjamins.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I put five hundred dollars in the jar. Isn’t that what you were wondering just now?”

  She grinned. “Yes, but how’d you know?”

  He laughed. “You forget I was a professional poker player for ten years; it was my business to know what people were thinking.”

  Oh, no. If he could read her mind, had he known all along how much her past troubled her? And if he did, why didn’t he say something? Every guy she’d ever dated more than twice wanted to know about all the other men in her life.

  Everything about this man was so different from anyone she’d ever known.

  “Tomorrow...”

  She blinked hard then replayed what he had just said. “What about tomorrow?”

  “I want you to go shopping; take April or your Aunt Rachel—whoever—with you. I don’t care.”

  “Oh, Gij. I’ve already got so much stuff I’ll never wear it all.”

  “Yes, you will. I want you to go pick out the prettiest, best wedding dress you can find. Go to Neiman’s or wherever you want.” He pulled a Visa out of his shirt pocket. “Here, this is yours. Max it out if you want.”

  The no died on her lips. In shock, she extended her hand and accepted the piece of plastic. It had her name on it. “When did you do this?”

  “Before we left for California.”

  Amazing. How could he be so sweet, so thoughtful? The man definitely backed up his I-love-yous with hard, cold plastic. “Why do I have to take April? Why can’t you go with me?”

  “My agent called. Daniels asked to meet with me in the morning, and I thought you’d want some feminine help picking out the right dress.”

  “I knew it wouldn’t be that you were the groom and not supposed to see it before I walked down the aisle to you.” She extended her arm, palm spread out toward him, then swooned. “Whoa. Did I just say that?”

  “You are right, I’m not superstitious.”

  “Yes, I know.” She swallowed a wad of cotton. “But we’re talking about a wedding dress here, a bridal gown, and you haven’t even asked for Daddy’s phone number yet.”

  “He gave it to me when we visited.”

  “But you haven’t proposed.”

  He grabbed her hand entwining his fingers in hers. “I know. But when I do, I don’t want anything holding us up, nothing.”

  “Well, can’t we do both, together? I can go with you to the meeting, and then we can go shopping later.”

  He smiled and hiked his eyebrows.

  Now who could read whom? She loved it when she surprised him.

  “Why not? Won’t take me long to tell them no.”

  She gave him her best shot then only half-heartedly continued the debate, but it seemed Moses on high had told the man, ‘One pro season and you’re done.’

  One and done.

  Then of course, he sent her to bed alone.

  Not a bit tired after that long stupid nap, she twirled her ring on her finger then centered the stone.

  Grabbing Ann Everett’s You’re Bustin’ My Nupials, the second book of the series, she noticed the Bible he’d bought her and picked it up, too, then marched to her room. That one lady said most of the songs they’d sung were straight out of Psalms.

  Maybe she could find them.

  Once settled in her flannel gown between her sheets, she turned on her bedside table lamp. In the front of her Bible, she searched the index for Psalms. Page seven-sixty-three.

  After the first four or five—they were short—she noticed Psalms three, four, and five were all attributed to David.

  A thought struck her.

  Could it be the same little boy David who killed the giant with a sling shot? Would there be two Davids in the Bible?

  A reference in the margin mentioned a David in First Samuel. She went back to her index and found the First Book of Samuel just after Ruth. Wow, a woman had a book. She’d have to read that one, too.

  Page three-ninety-two. Okay. She thumbed her way back.

  An hour later, when she’d finished the whole book of First Samuel, she opted for a little snack because she wanted to finish Sam’s second book, too. They were pretty short.

  Why hadn’t anyone ever told her about all this stuff about King Saul and David and the prophet?

  All her life, she’d figured the story of David and Goliath was nothing but fiction, a kid’s fairy tale made up and told by the adults same as Goldilocks and the Three Bears or Little Red Ridinghood.

  She eased her door open and tiptoed to the kitchen, a bit disappointed when no light filtered out from around the edges of his door. She bypassed the Rocky Road and settled on grapes. Getting them out, she had to move a yogurt. She checked its date.

  Had to be brand new, but how…

  For that matter, where’d the grapes come from?

  There weren’t any when they left for California, and Gij had definitely not been to the store. Thinking about it, her bed sheets had been changed and the carpets vacuumed while they were there.

  Who did he have coming in? She centered her ring’s diamond that made pretty little stars on the wall reflecting the light bouncing off its hundreds of facets.

  A light rap pulled her awake. A bowl of grape stems and an empty yogurt cluttered her bedside table, and her Bible lay next to her in the bed. She’d slept good. Another louder rap sounded. “Samantha? You up? I’ve got coffee.”

  “Come in.” The door opened and she grinned. “I’m not up, but I’m awake now, so give me that coffee. Please.”

  Gij handed her the mug then forced himself to look away. Flannel became her. Oh, good, she’d been reading her Bible. “How soon can you be ready? My meeting starts in an hour.”

  “Twenty-five or thirty minutes? That soon enough?” She got up and twirled. The deep ruffle on the bottom of the gown fluttered in waves.

  If he could only keep his eyes on the hem.

  “What do you think? You like my flannel gown?”

  She knew what she was doing to him, had to. “Yes, ma’am. It’s a handsome nightgown alright. I like the flannel fine.” He headed for the door. “I’ll get out of here so you can get ready.”

  As promised, she showed up in full dress in less than half an hour.

  Somehow, she’d made herself even more desirable. Then meeting time came; he arrived ten minutes early. His agent tried to talk him out of taking Sammi Dan in, but Gij saw right through his bluff.

  Daniels seemed to think it was amusing when she waltzed into his office on Gij’s arm. The GM smiled. “See you’ve got yourself a new ring.”

  She extended her left arm, dangled her hand toward him, and beamed.

  “Yes, sir. He says it’s an engaged-to-be-engaged-ment ring, but he wants to take me shopping for a wedding dress today. I’m just not sure what all’s going on.” She retracted her hand. “Thanks for noticing.”

  Gij’s face warmed.

  Maybe he should have left he
r at home.

  As though the room full of grown men were a bunch of school boys daring each other on the playground, they danced around and around trying to get Gij’s name on the dotted line for the next season.

  And while the rest boogied, the man read the contract they’d put in front of him. With the bucks they offered, couldn’t he just help Jim by sending cash and play ball?

  She needed a few minutes alone with him.

  The general manager retrieved a folder from his desk drawer and extracted a check-sized piece of paper. He put it face down on his desk and slid it to Gij.

  “Signing bonus. You can walk right out of here with that in your pocket. We’ll even take care of your agent. That can be all yours and your Uncle Sam’s.”

  Gij held it up for her. Sammi Dan couldn’t believe her eyes. There were so many zeros after that five she almost needed a calculator.

  Wow. No way.

  They were trying to give him five million dollars just to write his signature on a little line and promise to play baseball with the Rangers one more year.

  “You flatter me, gentlemen, but I wasn’t planning on playing next year.”

  Her heart sank. She had to do something. His Pappaw was dead, he’d never know.

  Besides, he definitely probably never dreamed in a hundred million years the Rangers would offer his grandson five million dollars above and beyond his salary to play baseball one more year.

  Surly if he had, he would’ve told his grandson to sign. Why did it have to be One and done. It made no sense, none at all. She had to talk to Gij. Hammer some sense into him.

  Popsicles! Her man could send Jim whatever was left after taxes. The missionary pilot wouldn’t even know what to do with such a huge, enormous donation, and she wouldn’t have to fly all over the Dark Continent.

  The team would have the best pitcher they ever had—well, Nolan Ryan might not think so—for another year, and Gij? He could play baseball.

  Everybody would win.

  He stood and looked at her. “You ready?”

  Glancing first to Daniels, she then looked past Gij to his agent. Were they just going to sit there and let him walk out? Reluctantly, she stood and stared at the check for a minute. They should offer it to her to talk him into staying.