Love's Emerging Faith (Love's Texas Homecoming Book 3; First Street Church #20)

by Sharon Hughson

  Hopelessness bled into the boy’s amber-flecked, whiskey-colored eyes. They’d seen too much, and now they’d be forced to see another place where he was unwanted. Why had he been separated from his younger sister? Had he come from a drug-using home like Bailey? A place where he or his sister had been abused?

  Was living in this rundown homestead more dangerous than whatever he’d faced before?

  Warmth exploded in her stomach. He needed help, and she was the one God had put in his path.

  The thrill of determination spiraled through her chest. Decision and purpose steeled her spine. “Come with me. I’ll help you find your sister.” She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but the boy deserved to see his sister, even if only for a minute before being whisked to wherever kids who ran away from foster homes went.

  His eyes narrowed, and he slouched away from her. “Why?”

  “Because my boyfriend was a foster kid when he was your age, and he would have done anything to keep his little sister safe.” Then and now.

  After a quick scan of her face, he slipped back into the leaning pump house. Jaz ignored the fidgety feeling in her stomach. She had no idea how she’d help him find his sister, but when had that ever stopped her?

  A moment later he emerged with a ratty camouflage backpack slung over one shoulder, and he tried to shrug his other arm in the strap.

  Jaz lifted the pack so his arm slid in place. It felt heavier than she expected. “What’s in this thing? Rocks?”

  “I can’t eat rocks.” He scowled.

  As they walked toward the fence, shimmying through brush, Jaz debated how to get him back to town. Her car was across the pond in the park’s lot, but two people couldn’t fit in the kayak. Making a quick decision, she pulled out her cell phone and scrolled to the sheriff’s number, which he’d encouraged her to keep on hand during her dealings with Honey Campbell.

  He answered with a blunt, “Grant.”

  “Jaz here.”

  Her companion stopped beside the kayak, kneeling to touch its smooth surface.

  “I’m by the old homestead off Orchard Way. Need a ride, if you could come in quiet.”

  He sighed. “I’m not a taxi service.”

  “I have a one-person kayak and a passenger. One you’ve likely been looking for.”

  After a pause, Grant asked, “Red-haired boy?”

  Jaz grunted, hanging back from the kayak.

  After a grumpy mutter, the sheriff said, “Be there in fifteen,” and ended the call.

  Jaz slid her phone into her pocket and approached the boy with her hand out. “I’m Jaz.”

  “Kenton.” His grubby hands were thin and surprisingly warm.

  “How long have you been hiding out here?”

  Kenton squatted beside the boat. “Are we going in this?”

  She shook her head. “It’s for a single person.”

  The glint snuffed from his pale eyes. Jaz wanted to zip him into the life vest and paddle him around the pond—anything to bring the glow of life back to his expression. It reminded her of working with the children in the law office while their parents had consultations about malpractice lawsuits. It was the only part of her job she’d missed while taking care of her mother the previous six weeks.

  “You’re pretty brave to hide in that dump.”

  Skinny shoulders shrugged. His gaze traveled around the lake, and he fumbled with some pebbles on the bank. He tossed one into the water. The motion, not smooth or manly like Bailey’s, still reminded her of him. Each time they’d been there, he’d expended part of his nervous energy by tossing stones in the pond.

  She needed to help this boy and his sister. Bailey would claim she had a hero complex, and if she did, she’d gotten it from her older brother, Drew, who’d sacrificed his life to save his squad from a surprise attack in Afghanistan.

  “Did you see any snakes?”

  “Snakes are cool.” The boy gawked at her over his shoulder. Watching for her reaction to that startling viewpoint?

  Jaz stopped the shiver that wanted to disagree about scaly creatures. “So, you did see some? Rattlers are poisonous, you know.”

  “No rattlers. Only a few black snakes, and they didn’t want to share the shack with me.” His skinny body shook with the raise of his shoulders.

  “When did you last eat?” Jaz slid beside the kayak and pulled out her day pack. When her zipper opening broke the silence, his gaze homed in on her movements with feverish intensity. She handed him her water bottle and the granola bar she’d tucked in the week before when she’d gone on a six-mile run.

  By the time he gulped down the water and gnawed through the food, a dark truck bumped down the road. At least the sheriff arrived in his hunting rig instead of the patrol car he normally drove.

  Kenton’s eyes widened. He flinched when the uniformed man stepped from the vehicle. “You called the cops?” The accusation burned through her hotter than his venomous glare.

  “I’ll stay with you. Promise. Sheriff Grant’s a good guy. He helped my friend a few months ago.”

  Kenton’s head whipped from side to side, but there was nowhere he could run. He shriveled into himself, and Jaz draped her arm over his shoulders.

  “I promise to take care of you.”

  His wide eyes begged for more than a few moments of time. Her heart melted.

  “Who do we have here?” The sheriff’s gruff voice eased at Kenton’s fearful expression.

  “This is my bud, Kenton. And this is Sheriff Grant. He’s going to give us a ride to my car and return the kayak to Mr. Bryant.” Jaz projected an appeal through her eye contact with the lawman.

  “So I am.” He held his hand toward the boy. Kenton looked skeptical for a few long moments, then shook it quickly. “Want to grab the other end of this thing?” The sheriff nodded to the stern of the kayak, a hand resting on the bow. His taser rattled against his boots as he squatted down to grip the plastic.

  Kenton scrambled to pick up the other end of the boat. His backpack bobbed with each step and something in his face relaxed. Jaz followed behind with the paddle.

  Lord, show me how to help this boy and his sister. I promised.

  And she always kept her promises. Drew had taught her that.

  4

  Bailey hurried back from his two meetings in Rosewood only to discover Lonie with his filthy feet on the desk in the office while Tess worked on her computer. The man’s eyes scanned the room, resting on the large painting of the ranch in better days that concealed Fritz’s in-wall safe.

  “I can run you into Rosewood now.” He nudged the booted feet from the desk.

  Lonie lurched upright as his feet swung to the floor. “Thanks, son.” The sound of the word from his lips made Bailey’s skin crawl. “Tessa’s gonna run me in to pick up a few things from Walmart.”

  Tess glanced up, distracted. “I need some cleaning supplies. And the groceries are cheaper there, too.”

  “You’re not buying him anything.” Bailey glared between the two of them.

  “I’ve got a little pocket cash.” The glint in Lonie’s eyes reminded Bailey of his demand for money.

  Tess waved her hands at them. “I’m trying to work here. I’ll be ready to go in thirty minutes.”

  Bailey jerked his thumb toward the door. Lonie’s lips curved in a lazy smile and he stood with the speed of a sloth. Bailey glared, but the expression made Lonie’s smile grow.

  In the hall, Bailey hauled the man toward the front door.

  “Don’t touch me, boy.” A dangerous glint shone from Lonie’s dark eyes.

  Bailey swung wide the door and gestured for Lonie to precede him. Lonie plucked a strand of long grass from beside the porch and chewed on it.

  “I’ll pay for your motel room in Rosewood.”

  “I said I ain’t leaving here until you make it worth my while.” He settled his back against one of the posts. “Besides, your sister wants to get to know me.”

  “I know you well enough for both of us.”<
br />
  “Do you?” He quirked an eyebrow. “’Pears you didn’t tell her anything about me.” The man’s low chuckle reminded Bailey of a rattlesnake.

  “Look, we don’t have any money.”

  “I am looking.” He gazed around the porch and to the paddock and barn. “I see plenty of dollar signs.”

  Bailey ground his teeth together. He needed to get rid of this man, and he’d prefer to do it without unearthing the abuse he’d endured at his hands. Somehow, he needed to convince Tess that he was dangerous.

  Show her. He ignored the voice. He’d been the one wearing a tank top at the swimming hole, the one who never took his shirt off in the locker room. And he didn’t intend for his sister to see his scarred back. Ever.

  “I’m going to get ready for my afternoon with a pretty girl.” Lonie tossed the grass away and stepped toward the door.

  Bailey blocked his path. “Leave Tess alone.”

  Lonie blinked slowly. “You know how to make me.”

  His breath smelled like tobacco and beer, making Bailey wonder where he’d gotten either. Lonie shoved his shoulder against Bailey’s arm and swaggered inside.

  Bailey needed to get away. The dogs yipped as he headed toward the barn, and the horses in the corral raised their heads. Shamgar whinnied, but Bailey ignored the pull to spend a few minutes with the horse.

  Instead, he jumped into his truck and twisted the key. The back end rattled and swung wide as he roared out of the driveway onto Armstrong Road. Gravel sprayed the brown weeds in the ditch. Bailey steered into the slide and lifted his boot from the pedal.

  He didn’t want to give Lonie Dyer the satisfaction of knowing how much their faceoff upset him.

  “I’m not that kid anymore.” He growled the words to no one and reached for the knob on his ancient radio.

  He cranked the volume only to hear some country song crooning about no one understanding the heart of a cowboy. A cowboy. That’s what he’d always be, even if he could draw and run his own office, he felt most comfortable on Shamgar’s back.

  He slowed as he entered Sweet Grove city limits. His jaw ached, and he tried to relax his gritted teeth. Tess thought she wanted to know why Bailey hated and distrusted Lonie, but he didn’t want to see the look of pity in her eyes. He bore scars in his flesh, and she didn’t need to see them.

  Jesus bears scars in his flesh. He’d been twelve when a fight had landed him on his back. The scraped skin burned, and MaryAnn walked in while Bailey tried to clean himself up.

  Reflected in the mirror, her eyes widened above the marks he bore. As she took the cloth from him, he’d turned, hating the way his lip trembled and tears blurred his eyes.

  You’re in good company, son. She’d talked about the scars on Jesus’ back and in his hands and feet—scars he’d shown his disciples, but Bailey wanted to cover his up. The shame of them diminished that day, but it had never disappeared.

  Were you thinking you’d hide them from Jaz once you’re married?

  He shook away those thoughts.

  Without his by-your-leave, the truck bounced into the parking lot of First Street Church. At that moment, Pastor Bernie emerged from the door at the back of the building.

  Bailey swung the truck into a parking spot and slammed it into park.

  Bernie raised his hand in greeting and sauntered over to the driver’s window. “Afternoon, Bailey.”

  He rolled the window down. “Afternoon.”

  “How about some coffee?” The pastor nodded toward Mabel’s. According to Jeffrey, the pastor took two coffee—and pie—breaks there every Monday through Friday.

  Bailey shook his head. “I need to talk to someone about our visitor.” The man’s wife helped Tess with meal prep or cleaning at least one day each week, so he would know about the uninvited guest.

  “Your biological father.” Both men nodded. “Unexpected, I hear.”

  “Unwelcome.”

  Bernie furrowed his brow. “Not to Tessa.” He gestured toward the church. “Want to sit inside a spell?”

  Bailey heaved a sigh. “I want him gone.”

  “You had a rough go before Fritz and MaryAnn adopted you.”

  They didn’t adopt me. Bailey bit back the denial. That was old news. The Traverses loved him and Tess, no matter what legal documents were never filed.

  “I know you’d be stopping to see the sheriff if you had a legal question.” Bernie leaned his forearm on the rusty mirror. “So, I’m guessing this is about forgiveness.”

  Bailey blinked and sat back. The springs beneath him groaned at the sudden movement. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He didn’t want to talk about forgiveness.

  “I want to marry Jaz.” That would get an eyebrow raise.

  Bernie’s eyebrow twitched. “I hear she’s heading back to Austin, and you’re back in Sweet Grove.”

  Bailey shrugged. “We’ve done the distance thing before.”

  “But it doesn’t work for a marriage.”

  “If she married me, she could stay here. With me.”

  “Did you ask her, son?” The word sounded so natural coming from the preacher, and Bailey’s heart leapt at the sound of it. Unlike when Lonie uttered it like a curse, this made warmth pool inside him.

  He shook his head. “I’ve got nothing to offer her.”

  “What about love? And family?” Bernie smiled. “You might be surprised to realize there’s more to keep her here than you think.”

  Bailey’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

  “You’ve grown into a man who made your parents proud.” Bernie cocked his head. “Now MaryAnn would want to see you in church more regularly…” Bernie grinned, and Bailey’s stiff lips responded. A light of truth pushed back the dark thoughts plaguing him. A little more church would probably give him a sharper perspective about everything. Why did he let Lonie’s lies make him doubt?

  Tess loved and respected him, but she didn’t understand.

  “Let’s pray.” When Bailey nodded, the pastor squeezed his shoulder. “Lord, give Bailey wisdom in dealing with his family issues, and strength to walk in the path You have for him. Amen.”

  Warmth oozed straight to his churning stomach and aching chest. The prayer had power, like so many Fritz had prayed over him in the years before MaryAnn had passed away. Wistfulness for the peace Bailey had once known with God overwhelmed the doubts.

  “God’s got this. You think you can trust Him?” Bernie held his gaze.

  Bailey ducked his chin. “Thanks, pastor. That prayer reminded me of Dad—” Emotion choked the words.

  Bernie patted his shoulder again. “Fritz was a good man. A godly man, and he’d be thrilled to see you helping Tess with the ranch and finding a woman like Jaz to marry.”

  Surety coalesced in his gut, chasing away the last remnants of anger.

  “Now, there’s a slice of pie calling my name at Mabel’s.” A smile bloomed on the serious face. “Sure you don’t want to join me?”

  Bailey shook his head and pulled out his phone.

  Meet me at the sheriff’s office, the text from Jaz read. His heart leapt. He hadn’t heard from her all day, and now this. Was everything all right?

  “Who’s that?” The pastor asked. “You look worried.”

  “Jaz. She’s at the police station.”

  Bernie’s concerned expression melted into a smile. “Oh, she rescued a boy out by Mill Pond this morning. A runaway.”

  Bailey’s hand dropped to the gear shift. “I guess I don’t need to bail her out, then.”

  Bernie laughed and raised his hand as Bailey backed out of the parking spot. The sun glinted off his windshield, and for an instant, light ringed the pastor’s auburn hair like a halo.

  Thanks for sending your angel, Lord.

  The rattling truck carried Bailey the few blocks to the woman who owned his heart.

  * * *

  Jaz paced along the front of the station, craning her neck toward the conference room where the county attorney
, a social worker, the sheriff, and another woman sat with Kenton. She hadn’t intended to spend her day at the station, but her heart cried out for the plight of the scrawny, homeless boy.

  When she paced toward the outside, a leggy cowboy crossed the parking lot. Jaz pushed through the glass doors of the station and jogged down the three steps to meet him. “Hey, cowboy.” She grinned up at him.

  He caught her hand in his and pulled her against his side. “I guess I don’t need to post bail?”

  She elbowed him. His chuckle seemed forced.

  “What were those meetings you had today? We were so busy debating how to run Lonie out of town, you never said.”

  They strolled toward the parked cars. She picked out his rusted truck closer to the library’s section of the lot.

  “He’s still here.”

  The growling tone made Jaz swing her gaze to him. His jaw bulged as he gritted his teeth. She squeezed his hand, wishing she knew how to solve his problem.

  “What about the meetings in Rosewood?”

  When they reached his truck, Bailey leaned against the tailgate, reminding her of the first time he’d given her a ride in the old Ford. She stopped a step away from him and tilted her chin up, glad she could see all the lines of his handsome face from this angle.

  “A project for work. And it looks like I’ll be opening a branch in Bryant County.”

  Jaz blinked, her mind spinning on the words. “You’re moving back to Sweet Grove?”

  The first month of their relationship had been across the distance, and the past six weeks reminded her how much she despised it. She wanted to spend every evening with him rehashing the day or streaming sitcoms. It wasn’t a good night for her without his lips brushing along hers and flashing his killer half-smile.

  He nodded. “Just in time.”

  Her heart dropped into her shoes. He meant in time to protect his sister. She knew that, but she heard something else: “Just in time for you to go back to Austin.”