Heart of Texas Vol. 3

by Debbie Macomber

  She blinked. “How do you mean?”

  “Every time I look at you, I have to remind myself that I’m a pastor.”

  She frowned, and he released her.

  “Don’t you know?” he asked. “Every time I’m with you, I end up fighting with myself because I want…” He dared not finish the sentence, afraid he’d reveal the depth of his feelings. “Every time I’m with you I want to kiss you again,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

  “Oh, Wade, how can you find me attractive with my stomach like this and…and my feet swollen?”

  He smiled, wondering if she honestly didn’t know. She was beautiful, so damned beautiful—inside and out. “I’ve never been more attracted to a woman than I am to you right this minute,” he confessed. Gently he brushed the hair from her cheek.

  Not to kiss her then would have been a travesty. Before he could question the wisdom of it, he leaned across the seat and pulled her forward for a slow deep kiss. Amy sighed, and her arms went around his neck and she melted against him. Kissing Amy was pure emotion, pure sensation…pure ecstasy. Because he was a minister, he sometimes forgot he was a man, with a man’s needs and desires. That was the real reason Dovie had wanted him to start seeing Amy. He understood that now, although he hadn’t appreciated her interference at the time. At the moment, however, he didn’t need any reminders of his humanness. None whatsoever.

  They kissed again and again, until he felt his control slipping. “Amy…” he groaned, needing to break this off while some shred of sanity remained. Already his thinking had become clouded by desire. He pulled away and cleared his throat. “I’m taking you to meet my parents,” he said.

  Amy didn’t argue and Wade was grateful. He started the engine, and after glancing in the rearview mirror, edged the Blazer back onto the highway. “You don’t have anything to worry about,” he assured her, reaching for her hand. “Mom and Dad are going to love you.”

  Amy said nothing but gave him a worried look.

  “All I ask…” He hesitated.

  “Yes?” she prompted.

  “Just remember this is my mother. She’s proud of me…”

  “Then she won’t appreciate someone like me messing up your life. That’s what you’re trying to tell me, isn’t it?”

  The pain in her voice hurt him. “No, I was about to ask you not to listen to her tales of how well I took to potty training. That kind of thing.”

  Obviously relieved, Amy laughed. “She wouldn’t say anything like that, would she?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  The tension eased from her face, and the beginnings of a smile took over.

  “Mom dragged out my baby book the last time I brought a woman home for her and Dad to meet. You can’t imagine how embarrassing it is to have a woman I’m dating examine naked baby pictures of me.”

  Amy cast him a skeptical glance. “You do this often, do you? Bring women home for your family to meet?” Her eyes held a teasing glint.

  He’d walked into that one with his eyes open. “Well…not exactly.”

  “When was the last time?”

  This was a test of Wade’s memory. “It must be four or five years ago.”

  She raised her eyebrows as though she wasn’t sure she should believe him.

  “It’s true,” he insisted. “You can ask Mom yourself if you like.” He wanted to let her know how special she was to him.

  After almost three hours’ driving, they reached Wade’s hometown just outside Houston, a small community not unlike Promise.

  The second Wade pulled into the driveway, the screen door opened and both his parents came out. His nieces and nephews, whom he loved beyond measure, followed right on their heels.

  Wade squeezed Amy’s hand. “You’re going to be great. You don’t have a thing to worry about.”

  Her smile was brave as Wade helped her out of the car. His parents hugged him briefly, then stepped back and waited for an introduction. Wade scooped up his two nieces and hugged them both, then gave his attention to the two boys.

  “Mom, Dad, this is Amy Thornton,” he said, his hand on her shoulder. “Amy, my parents, Charles and Karen McMillen.”

  Both his parents smiled and at precisely the same moment, as though rehearsed in advance, they lowered their eyes to Amy’s stomach.

  “That’s either Sarah or Joseph,” Wade continued.

  “Good classic names,” his mother said, recovering first.

  Maybe he should’ve given them some warning, after all.

  “Amy, this is Peter, Paul, Margaret and Mary,” Karen McMillen said, gathering her grandchildren around her. “Welcome to our home.”

  Amy’s hands trembled with nerves, Wade saw, but she smiled politely and extended her hand.

  “We don’t stand much on ceremony here,” his mother said. Putting an arm around Amy’s waist, she led her toward the house. “Come on inside and I’ll introduce you to the rest of the family. Janice and her husband and Larry and his wife are already here.”

  Wade couldn’t remember a time he’d loved or appreciated his mother more. As soon as his mother and Amy were out of earshot, his father cornered him.

  “She’s pregnant.”

  Wade grinned. “So I noticed.”

  “Does someone intend to make an honest woman of her?” his father asked.

  Wade’s gaze followed Amy and he experienced a rush of emotion. “She’s already honest—but I think I’m going to love her and her child.”

  His father nodded his head vigorously. “Good answer, son. No need to say more.”

  AMY HAD NEVER KNOWN A FAMILY like this, so close and fun-loving, generous and expressive. Because she was new here and still self-conscious, she felt most comfortable observing their interactions from a distance. Everyone treated her in a warm, genuinely friendly way. The kids were full of questions about her and Wade. She answered the ones she could and referred the ones she couldn’t to him.

  Amy immediately liked his brother and sister, especially Janice, who was quick to point out that her name wasn’t Janice Marie but Janice Lynn. Apparently only Wade called her Janice Marie. As a six-year-old allowed to help choose a name for his baby sister, he’d been adamant that his parents use Marie. Lynn, he’d insisted, sounded too much like a last name. Wade’s younger brother didn’t look at all like Wade. He was shorter and heavier set, while Wade was tall and lean. Larry was an insurance broker like his dad had been, and Janice ran a graphic-design business from her home.

  More than once Amy found herself drawn into the family’s activity, not because anyone tried to persuade her but because of the sheer fun they were having. Karen’s grandchildren couldn’t wait for dark before lighting their fireworks, so she gave them each a sparkler. Mary, who was just five, was terrified of the sparks and the sputtering, but refused to allow her brother and cousins to know it. She held her arm out as far as possible and squeezed her eyes shut as if she expected the sparkler to explode any second.

  Midafternoon Charles McMillen donned his apron and chef’s hat and began his stint at the barbecue. He was definitely in charge and very serious about it, too. But he allowed Amy to assist him with basting the ribs and the chicken. She had a wonderful time as they exchanged outrageous jokes and silly remarks. To have had a father like this…

  Once dinner was ready, it lasted a full hour. Wade hadn’t been exaggerating when he claimed his mother prepared enough food to feed an army; they needed two picnic tables to hold it all.

  What amazed Amy most was the laughter and the noise. She didn’t know families had this much fun together. The kids raced around the backyard, chasing each other, and if not each other, then butterflies. Games followed, croquet and a hotly contested game of basketball between Wade, his brother and brother-in-law.

  “They used to play as boys,” Janice said, sitting next to Amy. “Mom used to have to drag them off the court when it was time for supper.”

  Late in the afternoon Wade and Larry set up a badminton net and
insisted everyone had to participate. Amy wasn’t sure she’d be an asset, but Wade convinced her to join in.

  “But I’m not any good at this.” It was too humiliating to confess she’d never played.

  “It’s easy,” he insisted. “Besides, I’ll cover for you.” He winked as he said it, as though he could actually manage to be in two places at once.

  “All right, but don’t be mad if I lose the game for us.”

  “Not to worry, I won’t let that happen.”

  “What line of bull is my brother feeding you?” Janice shouted from the other side of the net.

  “My advice is not to listen to him,” Wade’s brother declared.

  Once the game started, Amy was delighted by how much fun it was. They played a sort of free-for-all style, with the children running furiously after each serve, shouting and laughing. The birdie apparently had a mind of its own and flew in every which direction except the one intended. It wasn’t long before everyone dissolved into giggles.

  At one point the birdie came right toward Amy. Every time it was anywhere close to her, Wade stepped forward and returned it with surprising ease.

  Not this time.

  “Get it, Amy,” he shouted from behind her.

  “Me? You want me to get it?” Even as she spoke, she raised her racket. Her shoe must have slid in a damp spot on the grass because her foot went out from under her and she dropped to her knees. Nevertheless, she returned the birdie, but in her enthusiasm lost her balance and fell forward, landing on her chin. The shock was softened by the soft ground, but it jarred her for a moment.

  “Amy!” Wade was at her side in an instant. “Are you all right?” He dropped his racket on the grass and helped her sit up.

  Amy was shocked to see the fear and concern in his eyes. “I’m fine…really. There’s nothing wrong.”

  “What about your chin? The baby?”

  “Everything’s fine, Wade.” Using his shoulder for leverage, she got back to her feet and reached for her racket.

  “I think we should call it quits,” Wade said.

  His words were followed by a loud chorus of objecting voices, Amy’s included.

  “We’re not going to quit,” she insisted. “Not when we’re down by two measly points.”

  “Yeah,” ten-year-old Peter said. “I’m not a quitter.”

  “Me, either,” Paul added.

  “We’re actually ahead?” Larry asked as if this was news to him. “Maybe it isn’t such a bad time to quit, after all.”

  Janice and Larry’s wife started swatting him with their badminton rackets, but it was all in fun. The game ended in a tie a few minutes later, and they all stopped when Karen called them back to the table for dessert.

  “Who brought the apple pie?” Larry asked. Everyone turned to look at Amy in response to Larry’s question. She wasn’t sure what to say or do.

  “It’s the best apple pie I’ve ever tasted,” he said, saluting her with his fork. “The crust is fabulous.”

  “You’re eating my pie!” Wade accused him. “Amy baked that for me.”

  “You aren’t going to eat a whole pie,” his brother said confidently.

  “Who says?”

  “Boys, boys,” their mother chided.

  “I’ll bake another,” Amy offered.

  That seemed to appease Wade. “All right,” he said and sat back down.

  “For Larry,” Amy added, and the entire family burst out laughing.

  All too soon the day was over. Because of the long drive back to Promise, Wade and Amy left before the big fireworks display.

  Amy hugged both of Wade’s parents on her way out the door. Neither one had asked her embarrassing questions. Instead, they’d opened their home and their hearts to her without making judgments, with acceptance and love.

  “Well?” Wade asked, once they were on the road.

  She knew what he was asking. “Your family’s…wonderful.” No single word adequately described the experience of being with such warm gracious people.

  “I told you so, didn’t I?”

  Amy rested her head against the back of the seat. “You’re one of those, are you? An I-told-you-so guy.”

  “Hey, when a man’s right, he’s right and he deserves to make sure everyone knows it.” He growled a he-man sound that made Amy laugh. She felt content and utterly relaxed.

  An easy silence fell between them.

  “I love it when you laugh,” he said after a few moments.

  Amy smiled at his words. There’d been precious little laughter in her life. She wanted to tell him about her childhood, about the things she’d seen, the ugliness she’d experienced. The bare cupboards and drunken men…. But the day was too beautiful to ruin with talk of such memories.

  “I like your sister,” Amy said, instead.

  “Janice Marie…”

  “She said that isn’t her name.”

  “Well, that’s the name I’d picked out if Mom had a girl. When they decided against it, I was downright insulted. What kind of name is Janice Lynn, anyway?”

  “It’s lovely,” she said, thinking how pleased she’d be to have a friend like Janice. “Your dad’s a hoot, too.”

  “He takes after me,” Wade teased.

  They chatted for the next hour, laughing frequently. The ride home was punctuated with plenty of washroom breaks—which Amy found she needed these days. They were stopped at a rest area when she first noticed a flash of color in the night sky.

  “Look!” she cried, pointing.

  “That’s the fireworks from Brewster,” Wade commented. “Would you like to watch for a while?”

  “Please.”

  Wade helped her onto the hood of his Blazer and joined her. Before long the heavens were bright with bursts of color and exploding stars. Amy oohed and aahed at each one. Wade tucked his arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him. They stayed there watching the fireworks until the very end.

  It was almost midnight by the time Wade pulled up in front of her house. She struggled to keep her eyes open, yawning as he escorted her to the door.

  “That was the most marvelous day of my life,” she said. It was the plain and simple truth, although he had no way of knowing that. “Oh, Wade, I’m so glad you insisted I meet your family. They’re wonderful.”

  “Hey, what about me?”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  Moonlight dimly lit the small porch, and when Wade smiled down on her she realized how much she wanted him to kiss her. How much she needed his touch. It would be the perfect ending to a perfect day.

  It seemed he was thinking the same thing, because he reached for her. Amy closed her eyes and sighed. His kisses were slow and leisurely, expressions of comfort and contentment rather than passion. When it was time for her to go inside, Wade unlocked the door and handed her back the key. Then he smiled at her in the moonlight.

  “Thank you, Amy, for spending the day with me.”

  “No, thank you,” she said. He’d given her so much.

  DOVIE LOVED ATTENDING THE birthing classes with Amy. She’d learned to breathe right along with her younger friend, and they occasionally practiced together in the evenings or on a slow Sunday afternoon.

  “You’re getting mighty close to Amy and her baby, aren’t you?” Frank said one night after dinner. He carried the dirty dishes to the kitchen counter, then poured them each a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

  “Does that worry you?” Dovie asked, joining him at the table. She doubted she could hide the truth from her husband. He knew her far too well. Besides, he was right. If she’d had a child of her own, she would have wanted a daughter like Amy. As the weeks went on Amy had come to trust Dovie more and more. Slowly she’d revealed bits and pieces of her past life; this trust had been extended to others, as well. Wade McMillen had a lot to do with the transformation in the young woman, Dovie felt. They were falling in love and it was wonderful to behold.

  Poor Wade, Dovie mused. She almos
t felt sorry for him. He was so enthralled with Amy he could barely think straight. Amy was no different.

  “How many classes do you have left?” Frank asked.

  “Just a couple more.” Dovie knew he found it difficult that she was away every Monday night, but he’d been a good sport about it. She put dinner in the oven and he ate alone, but when she returned from class, she was eager to share her experiences. He listened patiently while she chatted on and on about what she’d learned.

  “When’s the baby due?”

  “Middle of October,” Dovie told him. “And you know that as well as I do.”

  “Everything’s fine with the pregnancy, isn’t it?”

  “According to Jane, everything appears to be normal. Fortunately Amy’s young and healthy.”

  “Good.”

  Dovie grinned. Frank had taken a liking to Amy, too, although he wasn’t as prone to discuss his feelings as she was.

  “It seems to me that Amy should start thinking about getting the nursery ready.”

  “She’s doing the best she can,” Dovie said, quick to come to her friend’s defense. “Denise Parsons is lending her a bassinet.”

  “What about a crib?”

  “Wade’s got that covered.”

  “Wade’s buying her a crib?” Frank sounded shocked.

  “Not exactly. He found a used one at a garage sale a couple of weeks ago and he’s refinishing it.”

  “Our pastor?”

  Dovie couldn’t have disguised her delight to save her soul. “Although when it comes to Amy, I sincerely doubt Wade is thinking of her in terms of being her pastor.” Dovie finished her coffee. “And I, for one, am thrilled.”

  “Uh, Dovie, not everyone appreciates Amy the way you and I do,” Frank said, not looking directly at her.

  “You mean there’s been talk about Amy and Wade?”

  Frank gave a noncommittal shrug. “Some.”

  Dovie was furious. “I can just imagine who’s responsible for that,” she muttered. No one got her dander up faster than Louise Powell. Try as she might to maintain a Christian attitude toward the other woman, Dovie was confronted again and again by her vicious tongue. “What’s Louise saying?”