Harlequin Love Inspired March 2021--Box Set 1 of 2

by Marta Perry

  Now it was closing in on three o’clock. Meaning they still had plenty of time to do something fun. It would be a shame to waste such a beautiful, spring-like day.

  “Sadie, how would you like to go horseback riding?”

  Surprise lit her face as she hopped out of the porch’s lone rocker. “I would love, love, love it!”

  He’d picked up a helmet for her at the farm supply this week, anticipating such a ride. She’d only been talking about it since they returned from the funeral. And this was the perfect day to be out and about and to start building some memories. Just in case—

  No, he was not going to let thoughts of the Sandersons ruin this day.

  “You’ll have to ride with me, though.”

  “Okay.” She nearly bounced right out of her pink boots.

  “All right, let’s call Drifter in.”

  Sadie cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled for the horse, while Mick simply curled in his lips and let go a whistle.

  A few minutes later, the sorrel mare wandered in from the pasture.

  Sadie smiled up at him. “She heareded me.”

  “She sure did.” No sense in bursting the kid’s bubble by telling her Drifter knew his whistle. Because slowly but surely, Sadie was easing into country life. Mick had been pleased to see that Christa hadn’t forgotten that when she decorated Sadie’s room. The horseshoe lamp and cowhide-looking pillow were a nod to his way of life. He appreciated that.

  Naturally, Sadie had fallen in love with the space. Mick knew she would. And anything that made Sadie happy made him happy.

  Christa had a knack for making Sadie happy. Rubbing his chin, he pondered his beautiful neighbor. Now that Sadie’s room was complete, she had no reason to visit them anymore. And though he’d never admit it to anyone but himself, he missed having her around. Because whenever she was there, things seemed different. Better. Even when things got bad, like they had Friday night.

  In all the chaos of this past month, Mick had never truly grieved his sister and the man who’d been like a brother to him. But the other night, the wall he’d built around his heart had come crumbling down as he watched Sadie struggle with her new reality. And while it wasn’t exactly manly to cry in front of a woman—a pretty one at that—it felt right for Christa to be there. She understood what he and Sadie were going through. And he couldn’t help feeling as though God had placed her in their lives to help them work through this difficult time. Something Mick would be forever thankful for.

  After saddling Drifter and briefly explaining the process to Sadie, he retrieved the helmet he’d stowed in the barn. “You’ll need to wear this while we’re riding.”

  “I like the pink.” Taking the helmet from him, she studied it for a moment. “Oh, and it has a unicorn on it. I like that.” She looked up at him. “How come I don’t have a hat like you?”

  “Because you’re still growing, so we have to protect that pretty little head of yours.” Besides, if Jen were here, she’d give him a good tongue-lashing if he let Sadie ride without a helmet.

  Thankfully, Sadie didn’t argue, and in no time they were atop Drifter and headed up the drive with Sadie’s little body tucked in front of his.

  “We need to go to Miss Christa’s so she can see me on a horse.”

  “Do we now?” He couldn’t seem to stop the smile that tugged at his lips. “I reckon we can do that.”

  When they emerged from the woods, Christa’s farmhouse was bathed in sunlight. The windows were open, and a gentle breeze billowed the sheer white curtains inside.

  The horse whinnied as they neared the drive.

  “Sounds like Drifter is as eager to see Miss Christa as you are.” Not that Mick wasn’t looking forward to it, too.

  The woman in question appeared at the dining room window. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m riding a horse.” Pride filled Sadie’s voice.

  “You sure are. Give me a second. I want to take your picture.”

  Mick guided Drifter alongside the fence.

  “Right there is good.”

  He looked up to see Christa tiptoeing across the cattle guard, her faithful furry companion by her side. She wore a pair of denim overalls over a gray T-shirt, and her chin-length brown hair was slightly mussed, making him wonder what she’d been doing before they arrived.

  “Hold on.” He angled the horse just so. “How’s that?”

  “Perfect. Now smile.” Using her phone, she took several pictures then stared at the screen. “These are great.” She looked their way. “I’ll have to frame a couple of them.”

  Frame? As in display, like in her house or office? And why did that make him sit a little taller in the saddle?

  “I’ll text them to you so you can have them, too.” She slid her phone into her pocket.

  “Miss Christa, can I play on your swing?” Sadie pointed to the simple board-and-rope swing that dangled from the sprawling live oak in the front yard.

  “You sure can.” She stepped closer, holding out her arms as Mick passed Sadie down. “I like your helmet.” She stood Sadie on the ground as Mick dismounted.

  “Uncle Mickey gotted it for me.” She hugged Dixie then turned to leave.

  Mick snagged her arm. “Hold up a second.” He stooped so he was at her level. “Always walk in front of a horse—” he pointed “—not behind.”

  “How come?”

  “So you don’t get kicked.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “No matter how nice a horse may be, if they see something behind them, they’re apt to kick. It’s how they protect themselves.”

  “Ooh…” She eyed Drifter. “But they don’t kick in the front?”

  “Nope.”

  She smiled then. “Okay.” She skipped around the front end of the horse and continued across the cattle guard to the swing.

  “That was good.” Christa stepped closer. “Teaching her about horses, the helmet.”

  “I’m just glad I remembered. Sometimes I forget that she didn’t grow up on a ranch like Jen and I did.”

  “You’ll just have to act as though everything is new. That is, until the day she looks up at you and says, ‘I know, Uncle Mickey.’”

  “Let’s hope that day doesn’t come anytime soon.” He glanced at the cattle in the winter-brown pasture behind her house. “What have you been up to?”

  “Drywall repair.”

  Lifting a brow, he met her gaze. “All by yourself?”

  “All by myself.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “Surprisingly, not too bad. Though there’s definitely a learning curve to applying that joint compound.”

  “No doubt.” He took a step closer, staring at the top of her head. “However, that does explain something.”

  She looked up at him as he drew closer. “What?”

  “Just hold still.” The sweet aroma of her shampoo—apple, maybe—enveloped him as he cupped her chin with one hand while pinching the small white blob that had affixed itself to the top of her head with the other. Her hair was soft, and the fragrance radiating from her had him entertaining notions he had no business entertaining. Like the fact that she was close enough to kiss. And what would she do if he did?

  Clearing his throat, he took a step back, revealing the joint compound. “Were you saving this for later?”

  Her hands immediately went to her hair. “How did that get there?”

  “I have no idea.”

  She smiled then and poked a thumb toward the house. “Would you like to see my patch job?”

  “Sure.”

  They moved into the yard where Sadie was draped over the swing, her belly against the wood instead of her bottom.

  “Miss Christa and I are gonna run inside for a minute. You want to come with us?”

  “Me and Dix
ie want to stay here and swing.” With the dog sitting beside her, Sadie pushed off again, lifting her feet into the air so as not to impede her movement.

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.” He followed Christa into the mudroom and kitchen where she proudly showed off her handiwork. He met her gaze. “And you’ve never done this before?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I guess you’re one of those naturals then, because you can’t even tell there was a hole there.”

  Her cheeks went pink. “Well, maybe not once it’s painted.”

  “I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks.” Her gaze met his, and he quickly realized just how much he’d missed being with her.

  “Say, would you—”

  Worry creased her brow as she held up a hand. “Do you hear crying?” She turned for the door. “Sadie?”

  Mick followed her outside and down the steps with Sadie’s sobs meeting his ears.

  In the front yard, Sadie sat on the ground cradling her arm. Her face was red, and tears streaked down her cheeks.

  “What happened, honey?” Christa dropped to her knees beside the child.

  Mick did the same, his heart wrenching. Why had he left her?

  “My arm!” Sadie wailed.

  Finding his voice, he said, “Show me where it hurts.”

  She pointed to her forearm, her cries decreasing in volume as Christa soothed her.

  He carefully ran a hand over the area, looking for any obvious protrusions or such. “Can you do this?” He held his hand out, palm down.

  Sadie mimicked him.

  “Now do this.” He rotated it so his palm was facing up.

  Sadie started to turn it, only to cry out in pain.

  His gaze slammed into Christa’s. “I need to get her to the hospital.”

  “I’ll drive.”

  Mick scooped Sadie into his arms. “This is all my fault.”

  Christa stepped in front of him. “No, it’s not. It was an accident.”

  “I never should have left her alone.” And if the Sandersons got wind of this, he’d lose Sadie for sure.

  CHAPTER NINE

  It’s only a minor sprain.

  Using her utility knife, Christa sliced open a cardboard container of wood screws Tuesday afternoon, certain the doctor had no idea what a mountain of guilt that seemingly innocent statement had carried. And even though Sadie had confessed that she’d been standing on the swing, Mick was still beating himself up when Christa ran into him at Rae’s earlier this morning.

  She pulled out several small plastic tubs, hating that he was being so hard on himself. Especially when Sadie’s fall had been just as much Christa’s fault. Maybe even more, since she was the one who’d invited him inside. It never even crossed her mind that Sadie could get hurt on something as benign as a tree swing that was only two feet off the ground. How foolish could she be?

  Yet instead of owning up to her guilt, she’d taken them a basket filled with trinkets, snacks and homemade treats after work last night. Having fretted over the child all day, she wanted to see for herself how Sadie was doing. Thankfully, the kid didn’t appear too worse for the wear. She was pretty proud of her sling, but disappointed she hadn’t gotten a pink cast that everyone could sign.

  Christa had emptied the box and was stacking the last of the tubs atop the metal shelf when Patsy came around the corner of aisle six.

  “I just heard something you’re not gonna like.”

  No doubt some tidbit of gossip on one of Bliss’s residents. Though how that would impact Christa, she wasn’t sure.

  She sliced the tape on the bottom of the box, flattened it and added it to the growing pile beside her before addressing her assistant manager. “And that would be?”

  “Gordon Winslow was just here.” Patsy planted her fists on her curvaceous hips.

  “Let me guess. For a Dr Pepper and free bag of popcorn?” The store offered the popcorn every Tuesday afternoon about this time, but Gordon always needed a soda to wash his down.

  “Yes, but that’s not what I was going to tell you.”

  Christa waited for her to continue.

  “He finally sold his property out near Dawson’s Bend.”

  “Must’ve decided to drop the price, huh?”

  “I don’t know about that. However, it’s Crane’s Building Supply who bought it.”

  The smile disappeared from Christa’s face and her heart sank. “Are—are you sure?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Frankly, I was a little surprised he had the nerve to brag while he was munching on our free popcorn. Hope he chokes on it.” Patsy spoke the last words under her breath.

  “Now, don’t be too hard on him. Gordon’s always been a loyal customer.”

  “So then why’d he go and stab us—you—in the back?” Patsy shook her head.

  Christa did feel a little betrayed. Still… “He’s been trying to sell that tract for a long time. Perhaps he needs the money.”

  “Yeah, like I need more kids.” The mother of four snorted.

  “Well, don’t you worry, Patsy. Bliss Hardware has loyal customers. Not to mention relationships with them. People like that.” At least she hoped so.

  “I expect you’re right. I was just a little miffed at the way he told us. Next Tuesday, I’m only filling his popcorn bag half full.” With that, Patsy turned and walked away, leaving Christa wondering if she was too late.

  Tomorrow would be two weeks since she’d first contacted her Realtor, and there was still no word from the leasing agent, other than they’d been unable to get in touch with the owner. Perhaps it was time to explore other options. Except there were none. She’d been contemplating this for nearly five months. Ever since she heard Crane’s had expressed an interest to a couple of landowners.

  The problem was that between the store and the lumberyard, Bliss Hardware was landlocked. And doing away with or decreasing the size of the lumberyard wasn’t an option. That would be like shooting herself in the foot. Lumber sales made up the bulk of her business, and every nook and cranny of the store was already packed. That’s why the Gebhardt building was the perfect solution.

  She blew out a breath. God, I could really use Your help. Open my eyes to what You would have me do.

  “There you are.”

  She turned at the sound of Mick’s voice to see him striding toward her, his ever-present cowboy hat hin hand.

  Forcing a smile, she said, “Well, hello to you, too.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “I have a problem and I was wondering if you might be able to help me out.”

  Funny, she could have said the same thing to him. That was, if she thought he’d actually be able to help. “Sure, what is it?”

  “The probate hearing for Jen’s and Kyle’s wills has been set for Monday morning.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Not really. It’s at 9:00 a.m. in Austin. That means I need to be on the road before seven. So, I need someone to take Sadie to school. I hate to ask, but—”

  She held up a hand. “Don’t even go there, Mick. You know I love spending time with Sadie. I’m just glad to know you still trust me with her.”

  A befuddled look crossed his ruggedly handsome face. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  This is your chance. Tell him the real reason he needs to stop blaming himself.

  She sucked in a breath. “Sadie wouldn’t have been outside alone if I hadn’t been so fired up about my walls.”

  His brow puckered. “You know I chose to go with you, right?”

  “Still, I was being selfish, pulling you away from her in the first place. I should have waited until she finished playing.”

  “Christa, you are not selfish. Why would you think such a thing?”

  “Because I let you down. You and Sadie. After all you’ve told me about
the Sandersons.” Her gaze fell to the dingy linoleum floor. “If they somehow found out Sadie got hurt and used that against you…”

  He drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Can’t say I haven’t thought the same thing a time or two myself. Except I never blamed you.”

  “I know, because you’re too busy blaming yourself.” Glancing upward, she saw that hand going through his hair again. It’s a wonder the man wasn’t bald.

  “And to think I was so worried about her falling off of Drifter. Had her wearing that helmet so she wouldn’t get hurt. I shoulda gotten a bunch of that Bubble Wrap instead.”

  “Aisle nine.” She pointed, hoping to lighten the mood.

  Looking her way, he arched a brow. “Do you think other parents go through this sorta stuff?”

  “Probably. But they usually start with infants, so they have a chance to grow with their kids and get their footing. You, well, you got dropped right into the thick of things.”

  “You’re not kidding. And there’s no way I would have made it this far without your help.” The intensity in his eyes had her swallowing hard.

  “Sadie is a precious little girl.” Christa was also discovering that her uncle was pretty special, too. A fact she found rather disconcerting. “And I can relate to what she’s going through. That’s all.” She took a step back.

  “What do you mean that’s all? That’s huge. You’ve helped me understand Sadie in ways I never would have even thought. Sometimes I wonder why Jen thought I could do this.”

  Forcing herself to look at him, she said, “Because she knew you. She believed in you. And I believe in you, too.”

  “Now don’t go feelin’ all sorry for me just because I’m whining.”

  “Mick Ashford—” her hand automatically went to her hip “—are you calling me a liar?”

  “Would you have said what you just did if I wasn’t feeling so down?”

  “Probably not.”

  “That’s what I—”

  “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be thinking it, though.” She pretended to straighten the already straight boxes on the shelf. “These past couple of weeks I’ve gotten to know the real Mick Ashford.”

  “As opposed to?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “A cocky cowboy who thought of me as some crazy broad trying to prove something by buying a hardware store and restoring an old farmhouse.”