The Preacher's Daughter

by Lyn Cote

  “This isn’t about trouble,” Lucie went on cheerily. “I was at the city park yesterday and played softball with some children I think live here—”

  “Why shouldn’t they play at the park? We live here,” the woman blustered, her face coloring.

  “I’m glad they were there,” Lucie continued without missing a beat. “They let my nephews Mikey and Danny join in. We had a great time. I was just wondering if you knew any of the children—littler ones, elementary school kids—who might want to play another game there tomorrow morning?”

  Tanner waited for the woman’s response. When it came, it surprised him.

  “Don’t you work for a living?” the woman asked, looking wary.

  Lucie chuckled. “I wish. But I’m here helping my cousin Sophie this summer. Her husband was hurt in an accident and is laid up in the hospital. So I’ll be bringing her boys to the park every day.” Lucie again beamed at the woman.

  The amount of personal information Lucie willingly revealed to a total stranger amazed Tanner. But it worked. Lucie’s easygoing, friendly way had plainly softened the woman.

  And that drained away his anger at Lucie’s impetuousness. Maybe softball in the park would open an opportunity to reach out to the newcomers. Maybe he’d underestimated Lucie.

  “That your man?” The woman nodded toward him.

  Lucie laughed.

  The sound surged through Tanner, awakening a new awareness of this petite live wire next to him. He clamped down on his reaction, not letting it leak into his expression. But to his chagrin, he couldn’t stop his neck from warming at the woman’s question.

  “No, this is the pastor of the church next to the park.” Lucie grinned, no doubt enjoying his embarrassment. “He was playing ball with the kids, too.”

  “Hello,” Tanner said, feeling and sounding awkward.

  “Padre,” the woman responded with a polite nod.

  He nodded back, wishing he could talk to a stranger as effortlessly as Lucie did.

  “So,” Lucie coaxed, “do you have any kids or know any who would like to meet in the park for a little baseball?”

  “Try next door,” the woman said, and closed the door.

  Off Lucie trotted, down the steps and up to the next door. On the other side of the lane, little children with skinned knees and solemn eyes had gathered, staring at them.

  Tanner wished he could at least slow Lucie down, but gave up. Might as well try to hold back a tidal wave.

  At the second door, Lucie repeated the performance—affable, unfazed by the almost identical hostility she met. She invited the mother to tell her kids that they’d be in the park tomorrow morning ready to pitch the ball for any kids wanting to play.

  How did she do it? Talk to strangers without the least qualm? She baffled and impressed Tanner in spite of himself.

  “Hey!” a familiar voice hailed Lucie from the lane. “Hey! Señorita Lucie!”

  Tanner looked around and saw the cocky kid from the ball game, riding up on a bike. What was his name?

  “Miguel!” Lucie waved at the youngster. “¡Hola! Good to see you.”

  Miguel halted by them, straddling his battered, slightly too-big bike. “What you doin’ here, señorita?”

  “I was looking for you.” Lucie smiled. “Mikey and Danny and I are going to be in the park tomorrow morning around ten. Want to play some ball?”

  Miguel looked past her to Tanner. “You brought him with you?”

  Lucie chuckled again. “Yes, I decided he should be allowed out of the church for good behavior. He helped me plant a garden this morning.”

  Tanner felt steam rising through him. She didn’t need to emphasize how inept he felt in this situation.

  “Okay,” Miguel conceded. “You gonna to pitch to us again?”

  “I’ll be there. Bring your friends,” Lucie invited.

  “Okay.” Miguel rose up on his pedals again. “See you tomorrow!” He rode away down the curved lane of ill-kept grass and dandelions.

  Lucie turned to Tanner. “That was lucky. We’ll just knock on a few more doors and then we can go. Miguel will spread the word.”

  Tanner had a lot he wanted to say to her, but he limited himself to “I think we ought to leave. We need to talk this all over. Plunging into things headlong can cause unexpected complications….” When he realized he was just talking to himself, he stopped. Lucie had already mounted the next black metal staircase.

  Fuming, Tanner hurried after her and ran up the steps behind her. “Lucie—”

  “This time,” she said in an undertone, “you do the talking.” Then she took a step back, leaving him in the forefront—just as the door opened.

  Tanner found himself confronting a large Latino man.

  “Yeah?” the man barked.

  No time for objections or hesitation. Tanner cleared his throat. “Good evening.” Tanner’s mind raced. Just act natural, like Lucie. He offered the man his hand. “I’m the pastor at the church next to the town park. We’re here inviting children to softball practice at the diamond tomorrow morning.”

  The man reluctantly shook his hand. “Why? You people don’t want us in your town or your park.”

  Tanner felt himself sweating around his collar and it wasn’t from the warm evening. “That may have been the impression you have gotten. But St. Andrew’s is glad you’re here. Do you have any children who’d be interested in softball practice?”

  The man looked him over, from head to toe. “I’ll think about it.”

  Relief flowed through Tanner.

  “Gracias,” Lucie said. “We’ll look forward to it. ¡Adiós!”

  Tanner followed her down to the lane again. Lucie had pushed him to do what he most dreaded, trying to connect with these strangers and take some positive action. Achieving his goal left him with a weird mixture of reactions, one of which was the desire to kick up his heels. The other was to hug Lucie. He suppressed both.

  “I think we can go now.” Lucie headed off for her car.

  But Tanner caught up with her. She’d taken the lead all evening, but now he would get his word in. They’d been lucky—blessed—but they needed to plan and ask God for guidance. “We are going to go somewhere and talk about this—now.”

  She had the nerve to laugh. “Okay. How about the DQ? I have to pick up Zoë anyway. You can treat me to a fudge brownie sundae.”

  “I’m driving,” he declared. His tone must have convinced her because she let him usher her to the passenger side. He opened the door. She brushed past him—so close. He ignored the temptation to trace the enticing softness of her cheek.

  Forcing his mind back to the mundane task of driving, he got in the other side and started the car. The muffler roared. “You need to get that fixed,” he commented, “before it drops off.”

  “I’m a little short on cash…right now.”

  He recalled that she’d replied to the woman’s question “Don’t you work for a living?” with “I wish.” He remembered how short cash had been when he’d finished his bachelor’s degree, too. I’ll have to find her a way to make some spending money while she helps out Sophie and Nate.

  Listening to her pleasant chatter to Fella, he drove toward the nearby trailer court exit. Lucie’s vivacity blossomed in the car, lightening Tanner’s mood in spite of himself.

  A man with dark, weathered skin and long silver hair stood very straight beside the lane just inside the trailer court exit. He flagged them down. Through Tanner’s open window, he said with an engaging smile, “My car is fixed in town. I need a ride to the garage. Can you take me?”

  Tanner glanced to Lucie. They were in Pleasant Prairie and the man looked safe enough, but she owned the car, after all.

  She nodded. “Sure. Get in the back. That’s Fella on the seat.”

  The older man went around to the door behind Lucie’s and got in. “Gracias. Thank you. You know the garage?”

  “Sure. There’s only one in town.” Tanner drove out of the trailer pa
rk and turned toward town. He hoped having another person in the car would dilute Lucie’s effervescent effect on him. He couldn’t let her charm him away from a serious discussion. It’s my turn now, Lucie. And you’re going to listen.

  “So you named Pepe ‘Fella’?” the older man commented, patting the dog’s head.

  “Pepe?” Lucie asked, an edge of excitement in her voice. “You know this dog?”

  Tanner echoed her silently.

  “Yes. I’m Ignacio Valdez.” Over the top of the seat, he offered a hand to Lucie. “I overheard your conversation about the dog.”

  “I’m Lucie Hansen. And this is Tanner Bond, the pastor—”

  “At St. Andrew’s,” Ignacio finished for her. “Good evening, padre.”

  “Same to you, Mr. Valdez,” Tanner replied, wondering when this man had connected him with the church. Tonight or earlier? Tanner was certain he’d have noticed Valdez’s long silver hair in the midst of his crew-cut and feed-cap congregation.

  “Call me Ignacio. I’m not a formal man.”

  Before Tanner could answer him, Lucie chimed in again, “Do you know who Fella—I mean Pepe—belongs to?”

  In the rearview mirror, Tanner saw Ignacio nodding.

  “You took him to his door. Or he took you? That was a quite a race.” The older man grinned. “Little Sammie Torres had only snuck Pepe in a week ago.”

  “But the man at the door,” Tanner put in, “said Fella didn’t belong—”

  “Sammie’s father, Big Sam, never liked the dog. I think he may have taken Pepe and dropped him back on the highway.”

  “That’s awful,” Lucie moaned.

  Lucie’s genuine distress touched Tanner. Her abundant sympathy and caring loosened something deep inside him.

  Ignacio shrugged. “It’s a small trailer. Sam could lose his job at the packing plant at any time. It’s a long drive back to south Texas. Hard on a dog. Hard to make a boy leave a dog behind.”

  Tanner mulled this over. As he recalled the scene at the Torres’s door, he recalled the fatigue in the man’s voice and face. A rough life. So different from his own.

  Lucie, of course, was the kind who jumped to conclusions. Her sympathy would be with the little boy and dog. And though Tanner hadn’t liked the way Sam Torres had behaved, the people who lived at the mobile home court hadn’t come to Pleasant Prairie because of the scenery.

  They’d needed jobs badly enough to drive thousands of miles to get them. And those jobs were the ones Iowans didn’t want anymore—hard jobs where they stood long hours and got their hands dirty. He needed to impress on her that she couldn’t see this situation with Fella as just black and white.

  “I heard you are starting a morning baseball practice,” Ignacio commented conversationally. “I myself played beisbol for a farm team in Texas when I was a young man. What a way to make a few bucks.” Ignacio shook his head, smiling. “Fue muy divertido. It was fun.”

  The older man’s words made Lucie’s heart beat faster. They were like an answer to prayer. She glanced sideways at Tanner. Looking deep in thought, he drove into the outskirts of town. Had he heard that? Would he let an opening like this pass him by?

  “That’s really interesting, isn’t it, Tanner?” She dug a fingernail into his firm side.

  Stirred from his thoughts, he winced and turned to her. “Sure.”

  Clueless. The man needed her. She groaned silently. I don’t want to be needed. But the memory of his quick defense of her at the Torres’s door flashed in her mind, warming her.

  She half turned to look into the older man’s lined face. “Could we interest you in stopping by the ball field tomorrow morning about ten? Tanner and I will be there to pitch the ball and coach a little.”

  Ignacio grinned, but didn’t reply.

  Tanner drove up to the fifties-vintage cement-block building that housed Mitch’s Garage.

  Ignacio opened the car door. “¡Amigo!” he hailed, “Mitch! I’m here, ready to pay!”

  The mechanic, reaching up to pull down the wide garage door to close up, halted. “Hey, amigo yourself, I’d just about given up on you.”

  “My daughter couldn’t bring me, so I finally caught a ride with these folks.” Ignacio gave Fella a parting pat on the head and got out of the Bomb. “Gracias. Muchas gracias for the ride.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Lucie replied.

  Mitch looked at Lucie. “This your car?”

  Lucie nodded.

  “You need to bring it in for an estimate on a new muffler,” the mechanic said.

  Lucie shrugged. Why get an estimate before I can afford the muffler? Lord, I’d appreciate that part-time job sooner rather than later, please!

  “The way it sounds you don’t have much longer on this one,” Mitch warned.

  Unfortunately, Lucie had to agree with him as Tanner put the noisy car into Reverse.

  As the car edged backward, Lucie leaned out the window and called, “See you tomorrow, Ignacio!”

  The silver-haired man waved, but gave her no promise.

  Tanner drove west toward the DQ at the other end of town. The deepening dusk highlighted his chiseled profile. Sunk in thought, he didn’t even turn to look at her.

  She wondered uneasily if he was upset with her. But that’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? Well, not exactly. She just wanted him not to be really comfortable with her. And especially not depending on her. I’ll help you get started, Tanner. Then I’m out of it.

  “I didn’t have time to make myself something to eat,” he said as he pulled into the DQ parking lot, “so I’m going to order a burger. What do you want?”

  He didn’t sound displeased with her. But maybe he was just good at masking his emotions. He seemed like the type, or was it because he’d learned this was the best way for a clergyman? How did people do that, anyway? She’d never even tried to hide her emotions, much to her mother’s dismay.

  Lucie scanned the scene. It was DQ season, all right. Cars and trucks filled the lot. Teens sat in cars, playing their music and calling to one another. Lucie noticed an invisible, but very real, dividing line between the Hispanic teens and the homegrown ones.

  “What do you want?” Tanner repeated. “Can you really eat a whole fudge brownie sundae? They’re huge.”

  She brought her mind back to him. “Yes, and I want extra whipped cream. I worked up an appetite.” She looked over her shoulder. “And a dish of vanilla for Fella. He’s looks like the vanilla type, don’t you think?” she teased.

  Coming around, Tanner opened the car door for her. He gazed down at her as if he were trying to classify her as animal, vegetable or mineral.

  “Lighten up, Bond,” she purred, and hopped out of the car. “A little soft serve won’t hurt Fella. And he deserves a treat.” She watched for Tanner’s reaction.

  “Whatever.” Declining her challenge, he closed the door and escorted her to the ordering window.

  Another battered and dusty truck of teens screeched into the lot. Teens sat in the cab and in the bed. Wasn’t riding in the truck bed against the law? It certainly wasn’t safe.

  At the order window, Zoë slouched, looking through the screen with the slider panel.

  “Hi, Zoë,” Lucie said in a restrained voice, hoping the girl wouldn’t be rude in public.

  “You’re early,” the girl snapped. “I got another half hour.”

  Lucie didn’t make any response to Zoë’s impolite greeting. Someone needed to do something about that girl. But not Lucie. Maybe Mom should come for a visit.

  Tanner pulled out his billfold. “I’ll take a burger, fries, root beer, a fudge brownie sundae and a dish of vanilla.”

  In the midst of scribbling this on a notepad, Zoë glanced past Lucie. One look at the local guys jumping out of the just-arrived truck and Zoë underwent a transformation. She slouched, but now more artistically, like she had a part in a music video. And a grin she tried hard to hide lifted her face.

  This was the first grin Lucie had see
n on Zoë’s face since she’d arrived in Pleasant Prairie. Uneasy now, Lucie watched, wanting to identify which one of the guys had lit Zoë’s lightbulb.

  Trying to hide her excitement, Zoë looked down as she took Tanner’s money, put it in the register and gave him his order number. Tanner and Lucie stepped aside from the window.

  “Hey! Zoë!” The leader of the pack called out as he strutted toward her.

  “Hi, Riel,” Zoë returned, looking down at her order pad.

  With straight dark hair and green eyes, Riel wore the country western chic so popular in rural areas, and also sported an earring and a serpent tattoo on his arm.

  Lucie’s gut told her that instead of the snake, TROUBLE—BIG TIME should have been tattooed on his forehead. She groaned inwardly. Did Sophie know about Riel? Lucie kept her expression carefully nonchalant, though her stomach did an uncomfortable jig.

  Tanner and she stepped farther away as Riel and friends crowded around, putting in their orders.

  Lucie listened to Zoë giggle at Riel’s cool chatter and felt at least a zillion years older than the teen.

  When Zoë called Tanner’s number, the teens fell back at his approach. He picked up a fragrant white bag and the ice cream from the window and walked Lucie over to the car again.

  She got in and took the ice cream from him. His expression revealed little of what was going on inside his head. That bothered her. But why?

  Reaching over the back seat, Lucie set the dish of ice cream in front of Fella and then turned back, dipping her red plastic spoon into the hot fudge. “Do you know who that Riel is?” she asked Tanner.

  “What?” he asked, still clueless.

  Fleetingly, Lucie recalled a TV talk show she’d seen, featuring an author who’d written a book about males and females coming from different planets. Was Tanner Bond even on the same planet as she was right now?

  “When we were at the window,” she asked, “did you recognize any of the kids who came up behind us?”

  “No. Why?”

  She shook her head at him. “Because Zoë looked like she was interested in that kid she called Riel.”

  “You shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Tanner said, and then bit a fry in two.