Rachel laughed, horrified. “You are awful.”
“I’m telling the truth,” he said, grinning, and then winked at her.
Ruefully, she shook her head. “Ever heard the saying liars are fryers?”
“Don’t believe I have, ma’am. Why don’t you take time to explain it to me, after church?”
His tone turned soft, and his gaze direct as he said that. Rachel couldn’t help but respond. “You have yourself a deal,” she murmured.
“Good,” he replied.
Betty chose that minute to join them. Rachel turned her attention forward just as the music started.
The songs were beautiful, some fast-paced, others gentle and slow, but all with one common thread, lifting up your voice in praise to God.
Songs that lifted up, that didn’t tear down, that reaffirmed what Christianity was really about. Amazingly enough, Rachel found she enjoyed the song service and relaxed as they sang.
When Ben got up to preach, though, she shifted uncomfortably over the message. It was entitled “God’s Timing” and he spoke about finding out things in God’s own time. Not to try to put Him on our timetable but to remember we are on His timetable, a timetable that doesn’t even operate the same as ours, in all probability.
Rachel knew that message applied to her heart. Still, she fought it. She was afraid to really believe that God hadn’t forgotten them. Because if she did believe that and then it turned out false, she didn’t think she could cope with the disappointment.
Please, God, she prayed silently, just hold on to us because I can’t hold on to you right now.
The service ended, and everyone stood and mingled. Women drifted off to set up the food. Men grabbed tables and moved them outside on the lawn. Women and men alike changed into jeans and T-shirts.
Fifteen minutes later everything was ready, and their pastor said the blessing. Before she had said amen, Morgan was at her side. “Go through the line with me?”
“But Mom…”
“Is with Warren,” he replied and nodded across the lawn.
Rachel looked disconcerted. “But why?” she asked, unable to stop the question.
“I’d say a romance is brewing,” Morgan whispered, leading her and Lindsay toward the food.
“But she’s—she’s—”
“A widow who still has many good years left in her and just might be lonely for company,” Morgan said.
Rachel balked. “Oh, I don’t like to think of my mom that way,” she whispered.
Morgan threw back his head and laughed, a deep, rich sound that traveled over her in gentle waves. “And can you imagine in thirty years your own daughter saying that about you?”
Rachel had to laugh. “Yeah. I suppose so. It’s just, I’ve never thought of her with anyone except Dad.”
“Well, start thinking. Even if she isn’t interested in Warren, she just might be in someone else.”
Rachel watched her mom and finally had to admit, yes, it was possible. Her mother just might be interested. And she found she was happy for her mom, once she got over the shock.
“So, are my two favorite ladies ready to eat?” Morgan asked.
“I am. What about you, Lindsay?”
“Um unry, too.”
“Me, too, sweetheart,” Morgan said. “I’m starving. Let’s go.”
Rachel, feeling better than she had in weeks, followed Morgan. As they got their food she commented, “You’d think there was a rivalry going on here. Look at those people over there, arguing.”
She pointed to two different groups varying in ages from kids to adults. They were ribbing each other, egging each other on. She’d never seen anything quite like it.
Morgan’s chuckle drew her attention. “What?”
“Honey, you haven’t seen anything. Wait until after dinner.”
“What happens then?”
“Just you wait.”
Rachel wasn’t sure she wanted to find out what he meant.
Chapter Thirteen
“Umph,” Rachel grunted, hitting the ground hard as she was knocked down at first base.
The young boy on first had stepped into the way.
“You did that on purpose. Move that foot. She was safe!”
Rachel rolled over to look up at the coach—who had just yelled—her mother.
“She was not. I got her before.” The young boy argued good-naturedly.
“Oh, be quiet, Jason,” Betty growled. “I saw it.”
Rachel sat up and brushed the dirt off her top.
“Don’t let her get away with it, Jason,” Ben called, chuckling.
“Don’t worry, Rev, I won’t,” the young boy replied.
“Hey, does anyone mind if I say I was safe?” Rachel muttered.
“No,” they both said to her, and burst into laughter.
“Jason, if you don’t say she’s safe I’ll make sure not to fix any more treats for the basketball practices, which will be starting back up pretty soon.”
“Betty!” Ben called, aggrieved. “Don’t listen to her, Jason,” he warned. “Don’t let her get to you! Steady now…”
Jason shrugged. “What can I do?” With a roll of his eyes, he said, “Okay, okay, she was safe.”
“That’s more like it. Get up and dust off, Rachel.”
“I didn’t know you enjoyed sports, Mom,” Rachel said, standing and obediently dusting off. “And I was safe,” she said to the young boy.
He smiled crookedly and turned his attention to home.
Her attention turned to the next batter.
“Of course I like sports, Rachel. How many years did your father watch them?” Betty said.
“But you didn’t.”
“I never had time. I do now,” her mother replied, smiling at her daughter. “Come on, let’s see a good one from the pitcher,” she called.
Rachel chuckled. Most of the church folks had changed into jeans and T-shirts, and she knew why. Yes, indeed. They had to get all that being nice to each other out of their system by trying to kill each other on the ball field.
She had to grin as she thought about it. Old and young, age didn’t matter. They adjusted the pitch for the children and were more outrageous with the ones they were closer to. The illegal moves she’d witnessed had scandalized her until she realized that the game was evidently all in fun.
She’d really gotten a kick when the infielders couldn’t seem to get the ball that ten-year-old Melody had hit and kept tripping over each other.
Betty hadn’t been given too much of a break until she warned them to remember that if she was too sore she couldn’t care for their kids.
Of course, Morgan had coerced Rachel into getting into the game, and then she’d found out he was on the opposite team. Egging his pitcher to show her no mercy, he had enjoyed every minute of her shock, laughing his fool head off. He was on third base now. If she made it around there, she was going to have words with him.
The crack of the bat sent her gaze to the batter.
“Rachel! Run, girl!” Her mom yelled it hopping up and down.
Rachel took off, realizing she hadn’t been paying attention. The man running to first had hit it long. She ran for all she was worth.
And made it! The older woman at second base was slow responding with the ball. She turned and looked at Rachel before tossing to first.
Morgan yelled from his position. “What’d you do? Block Maggie’s view?” She couldn’t resist. She thumbed her nose at him. “You know better!”
He threw back his head and laughed.
She imitated him.
Several people on the sidelines hooted and called mock insults at Morgan for picking on a woman and a guest.
Rachel preened.
A shout went up, and several people, including Morgan, started running toward her.
Startled, she stepped back. She opened her mouth to say something, what, she wasn’t sure, but she never got the chance. Something hit her from behind.
She fell dow
n hard, and a body had crashed hard on top of her. Then it registered it must have been the woman who had been playing the base. Heads cracked. Rachel saw stars.
“Maggie! Rachel! Are you okay?”
Ben’s voice sounded, along with Morgan’s. She heard others she didn’t recognize, all talking, querying them. Rachel’s ears rang. The other woman moaned and rolled off her.
Rachel rotated the opposite way and sat. Maggie was trying to get up. Morgan wouldn’t let her. “Take it easy. Slowly. Too much activity after a slow winter,” he murmured. “Let me make sure that’s all it is.”
“I don’t need help,” Maggie said.
“Come on now, Maggie, honey, just let me check you out.”
Hands reached down and assisted Rachel to her feet. Several people she didn’t know, one or two she did.
“I’m fine,” Maggie said as she shrugged off everyone who offered help.
“Maggie, honey?” Frank shoved through the people to his wife’s side. Slipping an arm around her he asked, “What happened?” While glancing at Morgan, Frank showed his concern and pulled his wife to his side.
“I really wish you’d reconsider letting me check you out, Maggie,” Morgan said.
“What’s going on?” Frank asked.
Morgan had an odd look on his face as he studied Maggie. “I guess you could have picked a better time to tell him….”
Frank paled.
Maggie actually blushed. “Oh dear.” Turning, she faced Frank, taking his hands in hers.
“Honey…what…?”
“I’m okay. Honestly.” Glancing around at the crowd she smiled. “I wasn’t sure, it’s been so long and we didn’t think we could so I asked Dr. Talbot not to say anything until we were certain but…”
She hesitated. Her husband squeezed her hands. Maggie turned back to her husband Frank, the local bookstore owner and smiled. “We’re going to have a little one reading books from our shelves in a few years.”
Rachel gasped excitedly, knowing that Maggie had been trying forever to get pregnant.
Others did as well.
Frank only blinked. Then he blinked again. “Huh?”
The crowd chuckled.
“I’m pregnant, Frank!”
His reaction was priceless. Rachel watched his eyes bug out, his hands go toward her shoulders, pause, go down toward her hands, back toward her face then grab her hips. “Whoo-eee!”
Maggie laughed and caught her husband’s shoulders and then held on as Frank whirled her around.
When he lowered her it was to catch her lips in a kiss. A very intimate and yet tender kiss. People chuckled, whistled, slapped each other on the back while waiting…and waiting…and waiting…
“Ahem,” Ben finally said. “I think there are a few people who would like to say congratulations Frank.”
The entire crowd laughed.
The air filled with festivities as Maggie pulled back blushing.
People surged forward.
A touch to her elbow brought Rachel’s gaze around.
“Are you all right?” Morgan asked.
She nodded. “Fine. I can’t believe she was playing softball. Why hadn’t she told her husband?”
Morgan sighed. “Fear, probably. I had suspected she hadn’t told her husband. Stepping in and saying something about her playing softball wasn’t my place. After all, there’s no real reason for her not to, but I was surprised Frank had let her—if he’d known. I should have asked her sooner,” he added ruefully.
“Since the game seems to be over,” Rachel said, deciding to change the subject, “I’ll tell you something.”
“What’s that?” Morgan asked smiling.
“I planned to run headfirst right into you,” Rachel said cheekily.
“You what?” Morgan gaped at her before his rich chuckle floated over the field.
“Revenge,” she said succinctly, “for suckering me into this simple little game of ball and then telling the pitcher to cream me.”
“All in fun,” he murmured, reaching behind her to dust her off, then edging her toward the sidelines.
“Hey!” she protested as his hand beat the dust from her. “And mine would have been in fun, too,” she muttered and went along with him.
Lindsay saw her mom coming, broke off from the women who were keeping an eye on the children and came running toward her.
Rachel caught her in her arms.
“Hi, sweetie,” she said against Lindsay’s cheek.
“Mo, ohn,” she said, and reached for him.
Morgan caught her in midair as usual. Hugging her close, he said, “This girl is going to be a ranger one day.”
“Ranger?”
“U.S. Army. Arruuugha,” he murmured. “Learned about it at school.”
“I take it rangers take chances?”
Morgan chuckled. “She scares me the way she does it. Children just don’t have any fear, do they?”
“She loves taking chances.”
“And does her mama?” Morgan asked softly, bouncing Lindsay once above his head before setting her on her feet and letting her run over to play.
“That depends. Is it safe?”
“Very safe,” he murmured.
“Okay,” she replied, her gaze burning into him. Morgan knew this for what it was. It was a step of faith on her part that she would allow him to do what he planned and trust him not to hurt her.
“Betty,” he called to the woman walking up to the nearby group.
Betty turned and strolled over. “Yes, Morgan?”
Morgan never broke eye contact with Rachel as he said, “Watch Lindsay, please, for an hour. I’d like to take Rachel someplace special.”
“Well, of course. You two go and have fun.”
He knew Betty turned and walked to Lindsay. Still, he stared at Rachel. “Are you game? I promise you, it’s safe.”
Slowly she nodded.
Morgan moved forward and slipped a hand to her back, then quietly escorted her across the lawn to his car. He opened the door and allowed her to slide in, then closed it after her.
He dropped into his own seat and started the car.
“Are we dressed okay?” she asked.
He nodded. “You’re dressed perfectly,” he replied.
He pulled the car out, turned and headed down the street. “We’re leaving town?” she asked.
“Not far,” he replied. “I wanted to show you something. Promise.”
He knew she was nervous and he couldn’t blame her. After all, how much did she really know about him?
He went three miles and turned onto an un-paved overgrown road. “Your mother wondered what I did with my spare time. I wanted to show you.” He pulled into an open field and stopped the car.
“This?” she asked, looking around. Bewilderment shone in her eyes as she tried to pick out just what it was he wanted her to see.
Tenderness ran through him as he watched her search. “Don’t look so closely, Rachel. Look at the whole picture and tell me what you see.”
Cutting her glance quickly at him she studied him, then nodded. “I see a place where a house used to stand. All that’s left is a foundation. It’s hard to see because the grass is so high. Brown grass. In the distance there are trees.” Looking behind her, she added, “So many trees surround the area that you can’t see the road from here.”
Morgan nodded. “Want to know what I see, Rachel?”
Softly, her voice running over him like a soft spring rain on a warm day, she replied, “What do you see Morgan?”
“I see children. Playing, enjoying themselves as they chase each other and play tag. I see a two-story white house, with one of those old-fashioned wraparound porches. Nearby is a swing set and past that are some stables. In the trees over there is an empty bird nest waiting for its maker to return and fill it again for spring. Flowers grow around the house. And outside that house hangs a sign.”
“What does the sign say?” she asked.
Morgan he
sitated, then decided to trust his instinct. “Halley House.”
The shifting of her body was the only sound in the quiet car. Then her hand touched his forearm. “She must have been very special.”
Morgan thought of his young daughter. “She was. Very special. Unfortunately, I realized it too late.”
She shifted again, then removed her hand. He missed the warmth of her touch, of another human.
“It’s never too late,” Rachel said, her voice more distant than it had been a moment ago.
Morgan didn’t understand at first, steeped in his memories. “She passed away,” he replied, then realized what she thought. “Oh, Rachel,” he whispered, turning so he could meet her gaze. “It’s not a woman. Halley was my daughter.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I had no idea Morgan had a daughter,” Betty said, rinsing potatoes in the sink. “He never mentioned her.”
“From what he said, I got the impression it was too painful for him to talk about. He did mention he wanted to build a house, have children and name the house after his child.”
“He must really miss her.”
“Yeah, Mom. Then, before I could ask any questions, a hawk flew over and he was out of the car and we were looking for bird nests.”
“Sounds like you had a good time, dear,” Betty said and moved to the table to cut the potatoes up.
Rachel wiped a cabinet. “I did.” She paused before adding, “Why didn’t you tell me Dr. Talbot was a specialist in pediatric audiology?”
“I figured you’d find out soon enough.”
“He told me when he was talking to me about making an appointment for Lindsay for further testing.”
Betty turned and studied her daughter. “How do you feel about that?”
Rachel tossed the cloth down and ran a hand through her hair. “How do you think I feel?” she said, and she knew she sounded short. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to yell—”
Betty went to her, took her hand and pulled her to the table, and sat down. “It’s all right.”
Concern twisted Betty’s features into such a familiar expression. How many years had she seen that expression and felt her mother was interfering? Rachel knew better now. It was a mother’s love, a caring and concern she saw, not interference.
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