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

by Sharon Hughson

She shook her head and held her hand out to him. His calloused fingers felt right laced with hers.

  As they approached, the real estate guy arched an eyebrow at something Anna said.

  “Jazlyn Rolle?” The man held his hand out. They shook, and Jaz was surprised to feel the ripple of callouses along his palm. More than a sales guy, then.

  “Bailey Travers.” Bailey shook the extended hand.

  “Bruce Anderson, assistant broker at ReMax Bryant County. Nice to meet you. Let’s get this open.”

  Light filtered through windows in need of cleaning. The solid oak door clicked closed behind them. Dusty relics from past centuries crowded against the walls.

  “All the furnishings are marked to be transported to storage until the heirs can sort what’s valuable from the lesser pieces.” Bruce spoke without the usual Texas twang, reminding Jazlyn of her time in the military.

  Jaz walked up creaking stairs to the left of the entry. Polished wooden railing revealed itself when she rubbed her hand over the banister.

  The men’s voices droned below her. A narrow hall divided the second story and three doorways opened on one side, with four on the other. An old-style split-door closet stood at the end of the hall. Each room was roughly square shaped with a small closet. Somehow, they’d need to open up a storage space for two occupants in each room. Perhaps built-in drawers and shelves could work for the boys’ rooms. Only one bathroom upstairs, which would be a problem. They’d need separate spaces for boys and girls, if her sibling plan was going to come to fruition.

  Bailey found her staring at the ancient claw-footed bathtub in the bathroom. It was a decent-sized room with a full-wall storage closet, a screened area beside the tub for the toilet, and a single vanity. They’d want multiple toilets and showers, wouldn’t they?

  “Lots of potential here.” Bailey rested his arm across her shoulders. “What do you think?”

  “It’s going to cost thousands to get this ready for occupancy.”

  “Good thing it’s being donated, then.”

  She turned to him. Her stomach roiled. “What if I haven’t budgeted enough money?”

  “Then you go back to the investors or look for grants.” His face was placid.

  “But I wanted to open it by summer or sooner.”

  He traced the line of her chin. “What was that you were telling me about God working everything out?”

  Jaz blinked. Things had been falling together for this project, and the only way to explain it was that God was working His plan. Why start worrying now?

  “Thanks for reminding me.” Her smile was rueful.

  “You can remind me later when I have doubts about my stuff.” He lowered his head toward her. His pupils dilated before his eyelids closed.

  Her lashes fluttered as she sighed into his lips. Too soon, he withdrew, sliding his fingers down her neck and taking her hand.

  “Want to check out the basement with me?” He waggled his eyebrows.

  Heat washed through her, and she laughed.

  With his strong hand in hers, the worries faded to a tinny echo.

  10

  By Sunday afternoon, Bailey’s plan had come together with approval from the sheriff. Now, he needed to get Tess on board, which was why he invited her and Javier into the impromptu meeting in his room in the barn. Anywhere Lonie Dyer wasn’t had been hard to find around the ranch lately.

  Just as he opened his mouth to begin the explanations, the barn door squealed. With his sister, his girlfriend, and his sister’s business partner seated around him in the future manager’s office, it could only be one person. Bailey sucked in the aroma of horse, hay, and old boards—scents that screamed home to him—steeling himself for the upcoming confrontation.

  “Where’s my baby girl?”

  At the sound of Lonie’s voice, Tess bolted to her feet. Javier flinched toward her, but she was leaning out the door and calling, “In here,” before he could stop her.

  A look of understanding passed between Bailey and the other man who stood a couple inches shorter than Bailey.

  Tess shuffled back into the room, leaving the door open. Lonie Dyer sauntered in, making the office feel hot and overcrowded. “There’s my girl.” His eyes narrowed as he took in their stiff postures. “Why are y’all crammed in here? There’s a nice office up at the house.”

  Yeah, where he could eavesdrop. Bailey knew all about the thin walls and old floor vents in the farmhouse.

  “We just finished up with the horses.” Not that it’s your business. Bailey glowered at the interloper.

  Lonie didn’t bother to meet his gaze. Instead, he shifted closer to Tess. “You said you’d run me to Rosewood for that appointment.” Lonie’s tone dripped charm.

  Bailey squeezed his hands on the arms of the office chair and leaned forward. A squawk from the old inner workings made Lonie jump. Good.

  Javier stood. “I’ll take you, sir.” His bronze skin and dark eyes gave him a foreign appearance, and the slight accent in his speech sounded exotic. “Tess and Bailey need to work out some details about the ranch.”

  Lonie’s blue eyes slitted. “Are you even legal to drive in this country?”

  Bailey huffed in exasperation and opened his mouth to reply.

  In an even tone, Javier said, “Yessir. I’m a legal citizen with a current New Mexico automobile operator’s license.”

  Lonie snorted. “New Mexico. Shoulda guessed.”

  Like that was the same thing as Mexico? Besides, Javier came from Brazil and could probably buy everyone in the room five times over again.

  Lonie reached for Tess’s chin and Bailey bristled. “I was lookin’ forward to spendin’ time with my girl.”

  The man could lay it on thick. Bailey had learned the truth about him when he was too young to fall for the charm, so he saw through the veneer.

  Tess softened toward him, squeezing his hand. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

  Lonie scanned the room again, leering at Jaz and smirking at Bailey.

  “After you, Mr. Dyer.” Javier’s politeness grated against Bailey. Lonie Dyer hadn’t earned the man’s respect. His sneer in Javier’s direction certainly didn’t repay the etiquette.

  Once the barn door squealed again, Tess shifted from foot to foot. “We should go inside. I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee. And there’s muffins.”

  Bailey’s stomach rumbled. After he nodded, Jaz stood. His eyes watched her smooth movements. She hooked her elbow through Tess’s. “We’ve got to double date.”

  Tess shook her head. “It’s not like that.”

  Bailey checked the lock on his door and dragged his feet. He’d done his best to keep his secrets for decades, but today might require peeling back more than just his shirt.

  Lord, help.

  The girls had already reached the porch by the time he emerged from the barn. Jaz had her head thrown back, laughing at something. Tess was grinning and shaking her blonde tresses like a horse tossing its mane. His chest clenched, making it hurt to draw his next breath. They meant the world to him, but would they see him differently once they knew the truth?

  The steps squeaked as he bounded up to the porch. He whisked his hat off at the same moment he opened the door and nearly plowed into Jaz. The summery scent of her wrapped its fingers around his heart and wrenched.

  “There you are, cowboy.” She flashed white teeth at him and whirled toward the kitchen door.

  It took his heart a moment to restart, but he let the link between them draw him after her. He would follow her anywhere, as he’d already proved by going to Austin. Was it possible her new project would be bringing them back to the same town again?

  His stomach knotted at the thought of her working with foster kids. After today, she’d probably never stop seeing him as a pitiful representative of an abusive childhood. But he’d do whatever it took to convince Tess not to fall for Lonie Dyer’s lies. They needed to be free of the man.

  Bailey hung his hat on its peg atop th
e coat rack and veered toward the scent of baked goods.

  Tess flipped the coffee pot on and flicked a towel at him. “I’m still mad at you, Lee.”

  “As long as you make me muffins.” He snaked an arm toward the plate holding several muffins.

  She hip-bumped his arm away. “I didn’t make them for you.”

  “She made them for her boyfriend.” Jaz drawled out the first half of the last word.

  Tess’s cheeks flushed. Bailey stalled in his next move toward the muffins and caught an elbow to the gut.

  “Oof.” He backed away. “I’ll let you girls bring me one.”

  “If you say please.”

  Bailey nuzzled next to Jaz’s ear. Her breath caught in her throat, making his heart rev into stampeding herd mode. “Thanks for bringing me a muffin.”

  His voice sounded husky. Would she continue to affect him this way forever?

  She nipped the end of his nose and swatted his arm. “There might be a bite missing.”

  “You can bite my muffin anytime.”

  Poppet raced around them yipping, but not loud enough to keep the words between them.

  “Gross. Stop already.” Tess punctuated her demand by beaning him in the neck with the towel.

  Bailey snapped it out of the air and tossed it back to his sister. “You started it.”

  “Ha. Jaz started it.”

  “And now I’m finishing it.”

  Their laughter followed him through the doorway and to the end of the hall. A glance showed him Tess had at least closed her door. He resisted the urge to test the knob and see if she’d locked it. She was too trusting, and Lonie Dyer was not to be trusted. Not even a little bit.

  Bailey paced behind the desk and stared out the window toward Armstrong Road. Even with the laptop computer on the desk and the light-filtering drapes on the window, he still felt his father’s presence here. So many nights the man had sat on that sofa with MaryAnn and then after she’d passed, he’d sat in the chair poring over pages in his Bible.

  But the light had gone out in his eyes. Would that happen with Jaz when she found out how truly scarred he was?

  Chatter preceded the girls into the room. He turned, watching Jaz slide a muffin with a bite out of the top across the desk. With a shake of his head, he reached for it and she arched an eyebrow.

  “Coffee.” Tess set a cup beside the muffin and then dropped into one of the chairs in front of the desk. Her shoulders slumped.

  “Missing Mr. Tall, Dark, Brooding and SO HOT already, huh?” Jaz kneed Tess’s leg before perching on the other chair.

  Tess rolled her eyes. “I’m tired of having the same argument with my brother.”

  Bailey broke off the bottom half of the muffin. Purple marks pocked it where the blueberries had been. His stomach groaned for the food but thinking about the upcoming revelation made it twist. He chased the oversized bite with a swallow of hot, black coffee. The scalding down his throat braced him.

  “No more arguments.” Jaz sounded comfortable. “It was nice of Javier to get Lonie out of the way.”

  Tess grunted.

  Bailey finished off the muffin, still staring out the window. Not that he would have noticed if the yard caught fire. He was too busy trying to formulate an easy admission.

  He turned and set the cup on the desk. “Lonie is a controlling sociopath. I know what I’m talking about.”

  “It’s been years, Lee. Don’t you think he could have changed?”

  Bailey gritted his teeth. “No. He’s already threatened to hurt you if I don’t pay him off.”

  She gasped. Jaz squeezed Tess’s hand. This wasn’t news to her, but it was about to be.

  “What can he really do to us?” Tess straightened. “I know that’s why you brought Javier back and why Jaz has been hanging around all the time.”

  “Oh no. I need your connections to help me with the foster home.” Jaz had come once at Bailey’s request, but the girls were friends.

  “Right.” Tess rolled her eyes. “I’m giving him a chance.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s nothing you can say to change my mind.”

  Bailey blinked. Really, Lord? It has to come to this?

  “Fine. I’ll just show you what Lonie’s capable of then.”

  His fingers struggled with the buttons on his shirt. Were they trembling? He untucked the tail from his waistband and curled his fingers under the hem of his white undershirt. He paused. Once they knew, they would never be able to unsee the evidence of his horrible past.

  But if it convinced Tess to believe him about Lonie, it would be worth it. Wouldn’t it?

  Lord, help.

  He took a fortifying breath, trying not to notice how much like jelly his knees felt. With a jerk, Bailey shrugged both shirts up to his shoulders and turned the evidence written across his back toward the women he loved.

  Their gasps sent a rush of cool air over his exposed skin, raising goosebumps. Tension coiled like a rope in his shoulder as he stood bare before them, letting them see the assortment of burns across his shoulder blades. He hadn’t paid attention to them in years, but he knew the rippling white scars looked puckered and gruesome. The reactions from the school locker room had taught him to wear an undershirt that he only changed in the privacy of his bedroom.

  Cool fingers touched his back. He shivered.

  “He burned you?” Jaz’s voice simmered with a fury he’d heard in her brother’s so many years before.

  “With his cigarettes, joints, pipes, and matches. Multiple times through the years.”

  Her fingers moved across another scar and then fell away. No longer able to delay the inevitable, he straightened his shirt.

  As he turned, Tess threw herself against his chest. “I didn’t know,” she choked out.

  Was it selfish that he wished she still didn’t? His hand trailed into her silky hair. He dropped his chin onto her head and patted her back.

  A few steps away, Jaz stared at them, but it wasn’t pity on her face. Her green eyes burned with righteous indignation. She clenched her denim-clad knees and the stiffness of her jaw announced her teeth were grinding together. As their gazes clashed, his stomach reared into his heart.

  “He should be in prison for that.” Her voice shook.

  “Why would anyone hurt a child that way?” Tess voiced the question that used to haunt Bailey. “Why did our father hurt you?”

  Because I was worthless. The old accusation slithered in quick answer.

  That’s a lie. This time, it was Fritz’s voice rising to Bailey’s defense.

  “Now you know what happens to kids whose parents don’t really care about them.”

  “I already knew.” Jaz fidgeted and paced toward the door. “All the more reason for me to get funding for the foster home.”

  Relief spun through him. Maybe she wasn’t motivated by pity, but she still wanted to save those kids.

  And him? Did he still need saving?

  He hugged his sister and set her away from him. “I’ve got some ideas about how to catch Lonie and convince him to leave us alone.”

  Tess swiped her hand across her cheeks. “I hope it lands him back in jail.”

  A thousand pounds lifted from Bailey’s shoulders—relief, he realized. He had no secrets left to hide.

  11

  The next Saturday, Bailey worked in his finished office drawing plans, losing track of time. By the time he realized he needed to get to Jaz’s open house, he didn’t have time to change from his work ensemble. He tugged the bolo tie, glad his boots were freshly polished.

  Cars overflowed from the parking lots, making Bailey continue past the courthouse and pull into the high school lot. A stiff breeze blustered, sending a few errant leaves rattling against the pavement. He adjusted the brim of his hat and told himself he could rub elbows with half the people in town for a good cause.

  And anything Jaz loved was a good cause. Her latest passion for helping foster kids happened to dredge up old ghosts. Sti
ll, he realized running from the memories wouldn’t alter his past or the future for kids like Kenton and Flossie May.

  Kenton reminded him of a scrawny ginger cat Tess had snuck home from school under her coat. The thing hadn’t looked like it could survive a day but had kept the barn free of pests for a decade before disappearing.

  Today Bailey would wrestle his past into oblivion.

  As he stepped inside the courthouse, he shucked off his coat and jacket. The alcove where tables of volunteering information usually sat had been converted to a stuffed closet.

  A teenage boy slipped his phone into his hip pocket and offered to take Bailey’s coat. “We don’t have check tickets,” he said, “but someone will be here at all times to keep things secure.”

  “I’m still worried about my hat.”

  The boy gaped at the battered brown Stetson that was three different shades inside from all the sweat it had soaked up over the years.

  “Joshin’ you, kid.” Bailey flashed the grin he knew Jaz loved and strode toward the stairs.

  Voices floated down from the hallway and out of open courtrooms. Several tables lined the circular passageway where he’d waited to sign in for jury duty, but he bypassed everything for the circuit court room.

  Jaz had outdone herself setting up several display boards featuring the dozen foster children in the county that sought permanent placement. Beside it, another board showed the old antique store and some rough sketches he’d drawn up to show how the house could be modified to fit state standards for residential foster care.

  Before he took three steps up the aisle, Jaz hugged his arm. Her skin glowed like a smoky quartz, and the joy gleaming from her pale eyes twisted something inside him. His girl was gorgeous when she smiled.

  “The house will be donated. They’re signing it over on Monday.” Her husky whisper filled his ear. Warm breath trailed anticipation across his chest and down his arm.

  She pressed her lips to his gaping mouth for a quick second and then drew back far enough to admit another person between them. Not that anyone approached, but when he blinked away his shock at her greeting, he noticed Liam James standing across the room with a knowing smirk on his mouth.