by Myra Johnson
“You know what scares me most? That nothing I say will make a difference and Payne’s lawyers will convince the court he’s completely innocent.” Shifting onto her hip, she tugged off the gloves and slapped them against her jeans. “The prosecuting attorney asked me to try to come up with anything that would corroborate my testimony, but I’ve got nothing. Even my medical records would be too sketchy to be convincing.”
“This friend, though—you said she might have suspected?”
“Yes. Her name’s Carla Perez. I was taking basketry lessons from her.” Erin clenched her jaw and glanced away. “Until Payne put a stop to it.”
She’d never forget Carla’s disbelieving stare, then the flash of anger the day Erin had told her she wouldn’t be coming back. Erin had berated herself for delivering the message in person, but she’d wanted to complete that one last basket Carla had been helping her with. Then her sleeve had slipped up, revealing the palm-shaped bruise on her forearm, and though she’d quickly tugged the sleeve down, Carla had noticed.
Now, if Carla could still describe what she’d seen that day, she could well serve as the corroboration Raymond Poulter was hoping for.
If only it proved to be enough.
* * *
Kent felt better knowing Erin might have a friend to stay with, especially someone who was aware of the abuse and could offer support as Erin testified. They worked a little longer in the flower beds, until Erin said she needed to pick up Avery. They detoured through the house for a cold drink before Kent walked her out to her car.
“Let me know what your friend says, okay?”
“I’ll call her this evening. See you in church tomorrow?”
“Count on it.” Kent used his thumb to brush a fleck of garden dirt from just below her ear. It felt so natural to weave his hand through the auburn wisps at her nape and pull her close for a kiss.
“I—I’ve got to go,” she murmured, pulling away with a shaky smile. She slid behind the wheel and moments later drove away.
Kent spent the remainder of the afternoon pulling weeds and clipping deadwood from the overgrown shrubs. Even the small amount of work they’d done had made a noticeable difference. The better the house looked, the more enthusiastic Kent had grown for this project.
Or maybe he just enjoyed spending time with Erin.
On Sunday morning, he found her with Avery in their usual pew, with a seat saved just for him. This was starting to feel natural, too, and Kent didn’t know which amazed him more—that he was attending church again, or that he’d begun to envision a future where Erin and her daughter were a permanent part of his life.
Apparently, he should have paid closer attention to the calendar, though. When ushers handed out long-stemmed carnations to all the moms after church, Kent could kick himself for forgetting it was Mother’s Day. He’d call his own mother later, but in the meantime, he offered to treat Erin and Avery to lunch at Casa Luis.
Over tacos and cheesy enchiladas, Erin said her friend Carla would be delighted to have Erin stay with her. She’d also arranged for Avery to stay with the Austin family, which left Kent feeling slightly disappointed but also relieved. If fatherhood really was a growing possibility, he could use a little more supervised practice.
On Tuesday morning after Erin’s appointment, Kent picked her up for the drive over to Fredericksburg. She directed him to the discount nursery she’d mentioned, and with the help of a knowledgeable salesperson, they selected two nice-size mountain laurels for either side of the front steps. Erin suggested they also pick up a few flats of periwinkles and marigolds to add more color and greenery around the house.
They were back in Juniper Bluff by noon, and Erin invited Kent in for a sandwich before following him out to his place to start planting. By the time she had to leave to get Avery from school, they’d set the shrubs in place and started on the bedding plants.
“Think you can finish the rest on your own?” Erin asked as she dusted off her jeans.
Kent scoffed. “How hard can it be?”
Erin’s scrunched-up nose was a clear judgment of his haphazard efforts. “Just don’t plant the flowers too close together. And remember to water lightly after you’re done.”
“I was in the service, remember? I know how to follow orders.”
“I do know,” she said with a sad smile. “I hope someday you’ll be ready to tell me about it.”
Touché. Guess Kent couldn’t blame her, considering how he’d encouraged her to talk about her difficult past. “Pastor Terry’s still helping me work through some things.”
“Then don’t forget the verse from Isaiah you gave me.” Erin’s face shone with inner strength as she lightly touched his arm. “I’ve learned the hard way that life seems a lot less overwhelming when I share the tough times with both God and the people I care for.”
“Erin, I think I...” A knot of emotion closed Kent’s throat. I’m falling in love with you, he wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come.
Soon, though. Erin needed to get past the trial, and Kent needed to fully admit that this life of suspended animation he’d settled into, no matter how he whitewashed it as his cattle ranching dream come true, was really no life at all.
Chapter Fourteen
Kent had come to look forward to weekends, when Erin usually brought something special for lunch, along with a few more decorative items for the house. With Avery’s watchful assistance, Erin plied her artistic talents hanging wall art or arranging pretty things on tables and dressers, and afterward Kent would saddle the horses and take his girls for another trail ride and picnic.
His girls. More and more, he’d begun thinking of them that way, and he liked how it made him feel.
The next couple of weeks flew by, at least for him. The hardware store plus looking after his herd and the spring calves kept him busy enough. Then the historical preservation folks called to schedule their inspection tour. If Erin hadn’t been by his side that day, he’d have been a nervous wreck. But all had gone well, and with his place officially designated a historical site and a huge property tax cut on the horizon, he took out a short-term loan from the bank so he could conclude the purchase of his new bull. Two days later, he drove over to Kerrville to pick him up.
Now he just had to gear up for the visit from Mrs. Thompson and her dad. So far, at least, he’d killed only a few of the bedding plants—most likely from overwatering, Erin had informed him. The mountain laurels beside the front steps already displayed new growth, and the nurseryman had promised fragrant purple blossoms next February or March.
For Memorial Day, the church had organized a community barbecue, with families asked to bring side dishes and desserts to share. The crowd made Kent more than a little uneasy, but he wouldn’t disappoint Erin. Besides, she’d promised to bake another blueberry pie.
He arrived at Erin’s around four that afternoon to pick them up for the barbecue. One look at her in white capris and an aqua ruffled tank top, and he was a goner. He whistled under his breath. “You look great.”
“Thanks, cowboy.” Grinning, Erin eyed him up and down. “You do realize normal guys typically wear shorts and sandals in the summertime. How can you stand wearing jeans and boots all the time?”
“Are you kidding? This is ranching country. If I showed up in shorts, I’d be laughed out of town.”
Erin rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” Leaving Kent standing in the entryway, she marched to the kitchen and returned a moment later with a pie container. She called down the hall to Avery, “Mr. Ritter’s here, honey. Let’s go.”
The “Mr. Ritter” thing was starting to get to him, especially when he hoped for so much more from this relationship. “Would you have a problem if she just called me Kent?”
Head tilted, Erin offered him a thoughtful smile. “I guess not. But I’ve tried to teach Avery to respect her elders, and I didn’t know how you�
��d feel about her using your given name.”
“Elders?” Kent winced. “Now you’re making me feel really old. Maybe I should have brought my cane.”
Erin’s laughter sparkled like the summer sunshine. “Come on, you old geezer. Let’s go to the barbecue.”
On the way, she explained to Avery that since Kent was now their very good friend, it was okay to use his first name.
He caught the little girl’s curious grin in the rearview mirror. “I’m glad, Mom,” Avery said. “Does that mean you can start calling him names like honey and sweetie like Eva’s mom uses for Mr. Austin?”
Kent and Erin shared an awkward glance. “I can think of worse things you could call me,” he murmured. “But either of those works fine.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
The church parking lot was already filling up by the time they pulled in. Kent had purchased three canvas camp chairs for the occasion, and hefted those from the pickup bed while Erin helped Avery out of the back seat and retrieved the pie container.
“There’s Eva.” Avery pointed as they wove through the picnic area. “Can we sit with them?” Without waiting for an answer, she ran over to her friend.
“Hey, y’all.” Christina Austin shifted the baby in her lap to wave. “Come on over.”
Seth got up to help Kent set up his chairs, then widened the circle to make more room. “The Willoughbys will be joining us, too. There’s cold drinks over at the food tent.”
“I’ll bring us something back after I drop off my pie,” Erin said.
While Erin made her way to the food tent, Kent settled into the chair next to Seth, also in jeans and boots, and suppressed a smile of vindication. “How old are your twins now?”
“A little over four months.” Seth beamed with pride. “That’s Jacob on the quilt, and Christina’s holding Elisabeth.”
Motioning toward a group of boys tossing a football, Kent asked, “That’s your other son over there, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, Joseph’s the tall, skinny towhead.”
Kent nodded slowly, a twinge of envy squeezing his chest. “Fine family.”
“I’ve been blessed, that’s for sure.” Grinning, Seth gestured toward the food tent, where Erin chatted with Wanda from the gift shop. “Looks like you might have a ready-made family in your future.”
A month ago, Kent would have vehemently denied the possibility. Today, though...he couldn’t think of anything he’d like more.
Erin returned shortly with two cups of lemonade. She took the chair on Kent’s other side and struck up a conversation with Christina and Mrs. Peterson, Seth’s grandmother. Soon, Tripp and Diana Willoughby arrived, and the circle expanded. While everyone else talked, Kent tried to smile or nod at all the right places. But he was way out of practice with socializing and couldn’t seem to stop scanning his surroundings as if expecting a threat to materialize out of nowhere. It took an act of will to focus on Erin, her cheery voice and bright laughter a much-needed distraction.
Sometime later, he glanced down to see Christina’s golden retriever with her chin on his thigh. Huge brown eyes gazed up at him as if the dog could see all the way to his soul.
The conversation ceased, and he felt everyone’s eyes on him. Christina cast him a knowing smile. “Gracie can always tell when somebody needs a little reassurance.”
Releasing a tense chuckle, Kent gave the dog a scratch behind the ears. “Probably just smells my dog, Skip.”
“Maybe so,” Christina said, but her expression suggested she thought otherwise.
Sad thing was, she wasn’t wrong.
The squawk of a microphone set Kent’s teeth on edge, his fight-or-flight reflex nearly propelling him out of his chair. Hoping no one else had noticed, he sat back and forced himself to breathe.
“Grab your plates, folks!” came a man’s voice over the loudspeaker. “It’s ’cue time!”
“That’s Bryan, my grandfather,” Seth said as he helped Christina corral the twins. “He and his pals have been smoking brisket all day, and it’s gonna be melt-in-your-mouth delicious.”
The aroma that had been tickling Kent’s senses ever since they arrived reassured him this was just a church barbecue and he was surrounded by friends. Erin called to Avery, and the three of them fell in line to fill their plates with brisket, pinto beans, potato salad and a variety of other potluck dishes. Kent’s plate was piled so high, he worried he wouldn’t have room for a slice of Erin’s pie.
It helped when Tripp talked him into a predessert game of horseshoes, teaming up with him against Seth and his grandfather. After Seth and Bryan trounced Kent and Tripp in three successive games, they traipsed over to grab some dessert, and Kent had to thank Erin for setting aside a slice of her blueberry pie for him.
The sun was slipping behind the western hills as Kent finished his pie. He felt pleasantly stuffed, and much more relaxed than he’d been when they first arrived.
Then another announcement came over the speakers. “It’s about that time, everybody, so turn your chairs to face the pond out back and get ready for our Memorial Day fireworks show!”
Fireworks? Kent’s stomach heaved. He swallowed hard, hoping to keep his dinner down. Why hadn’t he known there’d be fireworks?
Gracie whined at his feet, squeezing in as close as she could. The dog nuzzled his arm, and without thinking, he buried his fingers deep in her ruff. He dropped his head onto hers and inhaled the lemon-and-lavender scent of doggy shampoo.
“Kent?” Erin touched his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Straightening slowly, he took deliberate breaths through his open mouth. “I, uh, need to...”
Seth stood and nudged Kent to his feet. “Come on, buddy. Let’s take a walk.”
They headed toward the parking lot. By the time they reached the other side of the church building, some of Kent’s tension had subsided. “Sorry if I made a scene.”
“You didn’t.” Seth leaned against a pillar. “It’s the fireworks, right?”
“The rifle fire, the explosions—too many reminders.” Kent glanced back toward the picnic area. “I can’t ask Erin and Avery to miss the show, but...” He inhaled a shaky breath. “I can’t stay.”
“We can take them home afterward. You go on. Take care of yourself.”
“You’ll explain to Erin?”
Seth offered a grim smile. “I don’t think I’ll have to.”
* * *
When Seth returned to say Kent needed to leave, Erin’s first instinct was to rush after him, but Seth advised her not to. “Best to give him some space. Besides, you’ll only make him feel worse if he thinks he spoiled the evening for you and Avery.”
Erin couldn’t argue. Even so, the fireworks show was already ruined for her, because all she could think about was Kent.
Later, after the Austins took her and Avery home, she had a terrible time getting her daughter to settle down enough to go to sleep. She pitied Miss Adams having to deal with a bunch of bleary-eyed first graders in the morning, but at least this was the last week of school before summer vacation.
Which meant only one more week until Payne’s trial, and the thought was more than enough to keep Erin awake for half the night.
Before heading to the gift shop the next morning, she decided to stop in at the hardware store and make sure Kent was okay. She found him shelving boxes of nails, her gaze riveted by the way his biceps bunched each time he reached into the shipping crate.
Noticing her, he straightened with a start. “Hey. You surprised me.”
“A good surprise, I hope.” Erin edged nearer.
His half smile didn’t quite convince her. He slid another box of nails onto the shelf. “Sorry about ducking out on you last night.”
She narrowed one eye. “Seems like we’ve already had the no-apology discussion. Several times.”
“Yeah, well...sometimes you can’t get around it.” Without making eye contact, he stooped to grab another box, then thoughtfully tested its weight. “Hope Avery had a good time.”
“She did. We both did, until—” Erin bit off the rest of the statement. It would do no good to lay more guilt upon Kent’s shoulders. She took another step closer. “Kent, I’m worried about you. I care, and I want to help.”
“Nothing you can do. I’ve just gotta get thr—” His lips clamped shut, and he shoved the box onto the shelf. Exhaling slowly, he turned to her with a forced smile. “I should get busy. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do here after the holiday weekend.”
“Oh. Right.” Arms folded, Erin sidled away. “Call me when you get home later? I could come over after work and do a little more decorating.”
“Thanks, but everything’s looking pretty good now. Anyway, I’ve got a lot of other stuff on my plate this week, and you’ve got plenty to think about with your trip coming up.” He’d already gone back to shelving nails.
Tears threatening, Erin muttered a terse goodbye and rushed out. She sat in the car for a full five minutes asking herself how one Memorial Day picnic could change things between them so drastically. Yes, she understood about the fireworks and why Kent had needed to get away. But why was he shutting her out completely? Was he embarrassed about revealing his vulnerability...or was it something else?
And how would she ever survive the remaining days before the trial without him?
* * *
Friday was the last day of school, and Erin could barely contain Avery’s excitement about graduating from first grade. She thought she’d never get her wiggling daughter buttoned into the frilly pink dress she’d worn for Easter Sunday. “Stand still, honey. Oh, my, I think you’ve grown a whole inch since Easter.”
“You’re coming to my program, aren’t you, Mom? I’m going to recite a poem I learned.”
