FRIDAY MORNING WADE KNEW he should be working on his sermon, but he couldn’t focus his thoughts. Every time he started to write down an idea, all he could think about was Amy. He worried about her, worried that she wasn’t eating properly or getting enough rest. He wished she could take a few weeks off before the birth. He wondered what plans she’d made for child care once her maternity leave ended.
Now that her due date was so close, his worrying had become almost obsessive. If she wouldn’t marry him, then he hoped she’d at least allow him to be with her when Sarah was born.
When he’d spoken to her on the phone recently, she hadn’t sounded particularly interested in his company. But that could be his own doubts talking, because when he showed up at the house yesterday, she’d seemed genuinely pleased to see him.
Wade stared down at his sermon notes and, feeling uninspired, decided to take a break. His first inclination was to head for the feed store to check up on Amy, but he refused to make a pest of himself.
The one person who was sure to understand how he felt was Dovie Hennessey, since Dovie was close to Amy—her birthing partner, in fact. He had another reason for visiting Dovie’s store; he wanted to buy a gift for Amy, a robe for after the baby was born. Something lovely and feminine.
He walked from the church into town and stopped to chat with the Moorhouse sisters en route. He arrived at Dovie’s to find her, as usual, doing a robust business. She acknowledged his presence with a nod and continued to help Susan Bonney, who was considering an antique bowl and pitcher for her guest bedroom.
Wade was a patient man. While he was waiting, he wandered around Dovie’s store, picturing Amy wearing this necklace or that scarf, imagining her on the brocade-upholstered love seat, holding her baby. With him beside her….
A while later Mrs. Bonney left smiling and Dovie turned her attention to Wade. “This is a pleasant surprise,” she said. “What can I do for you, Pastor?”
“It’s about Amy,” he replied, feeling a bit self-conscious. “I wanted to buy her something to wear after the baby’s born. A robe. Or whatever you think would be appropriate.” Actually this was all mildly embarrassing. He could just imagine what Louise Powell would say if she heard about this. If the woman thought it improper for him to have lunch with Amy, what would she think about his buying her nightwear? It didn’t matter what Louise thought, he chided himself. She was an uncharitable and narrow-minded woman, and her opinions were of no consequence.
“A robe is an excellent choice.” Dovie beamed him an approving look. “It’s both practical and luxurious.”
He nodded. “I want it to be special—not the type of robe she’d wear every day…if you know what I mean.”
“I do. In fact, I have something in mind,” Dovie said with a satisfied smile. “I was actually thinking of giving this to Amy myself.” She led him to the far side of her shop. A selection of old-fashioned wardrobes dominated one corner. The doors of one wardrobe were open to reveal a number of party dresses and nightgowns on scented hangers. She reached inside and pulled out a soft pink satin robe, its long sleeves and collar edged in lace. It was exactly what he’d hoped for. Simple, elegant, beautiful.
“It’s new—not vintage,” Dovie explained. “But it’s modeled after a 1930s pattern.” She watched for his reaction. “What do you think?”
He swallowed hard and nodded. The vision of Amy in that robe did funny things to his insides. “It’s perfect.”
“I agree,” Dovie said. “It’s utterly feminine and I know she’d treasure it.”
Wade touched the sleeve, intending to look at the price tag, but changed his mind the instant his hand made contact with the rich smooth fabric. His gut clenched. Amy, wearing this. Lying in his bed…
“I’ll take it,” he said quickly.
“Don’t you want to know the price?” Dovie asked.
“Not particularly.”
Dovie’s grin spread across her face.
Wade took out his wallet as he and Dovie walked toward the cash register. She wrapped the robe in tissue paper and placed it carefully in a gift box, which she tied with a pink ribbon. When she’d finished, she glanced up at him. “Amy told you about Alex, didn’t she?” Her gaze held his.
“Yes.”
“She only told me this week, you know. She’s shared very little about the baby’s father.”
“It’s not important.” He wanted Dovie to know he hadn’t asked. In fact, he’d almost rather Amy hadn’t told him.
“After the birthing class this week, I brought her home for tea. She cried her eyes out.”
“Amy was upset?” He wasn’t sure what unnerved him more—Amy’s being distressed enough to cry or her choosing to weep on Dovie’s shoulder and not his.
“Yes. She told me about Alex—and about her relationship with you. She said you’d been wonderful.”
That reassured him a little; Amy must still care for him, still trust him. Her story had broken his heart. Yes, she’d been foolish and naive, but she wasn’t the first woman who’d learned such lessons the hard way. Not the first woman who’d been lied to by a married man—and fallen in love with him.
“You love her, don’t you?” Dovie asked, then laughed at her question. “You must. No man pays $125 for a satin robe otherwise.”
Wade gasped in mock outrage. He would gladly have paid twice that.
“Do you want me to keep it here at the store for you until the baby’s born?” Dovie asked after he’d paid for the robe.
“Please.”
They talked a while longer, and then another customer came in and Wade knew it was time to leave. He walked to the town park and sat on a bench, watching the children at play, listening to the sound of their laughter.
Amy had told him about Alex and what had happened once she learned he was married. It wasn’t until after she’d broken off the relationship that she’d discovered she was pregnant. Although she’d only mentioned her mother in passing, Wade surmised that they didn’t get along and that her mother had provided absolutely no emotional support.
In the days since she’d made her revelations, he’d forcefully pushed all thoughts of Alex and Amy’s affair from his mind. It was just too painful to think about Amy loving another man.
He knew that Alex had been afraid she’d come to him and demand child support, so he’d insisted on an abortion. When she refused, they’d had a horrible fight, in which her mother had somehow become involved. She’d also told Wade that her mother had come up with an entirely unacceptable suggestion.
Wade could well guess. Six or seven years back, when he worked as a youth pastor in Austin, he’d been approached by a childless couple desperate to adopt a baby. Because of the limited number of available infants and the high number of applicants through legitimate agencies, Wade had been solicited by this couple, who hoped he could arrange a private adoption. They’d made clear that price was no object; in fact, the husband had bluntly spoken of “buying” a baby. While Wade appreciated how frustrating such situations could be, he referred the couple to an adoption agency with which he was familiar.
He could only assume that Amy’s mother saw her daughter’s baby as a profit-making opportunity.
Amy had been calm and collected while she’d relayed the details of her unhappy romance. Too calm, he recognized now. From what Dovie had said, she’d gone to a woman friend the following day and wept bitter tears.
It made Wade wonder why she’d remained so stoic with him. She’d spoken almost as if this had all happened to someone else.
Feeling a strong impulse to straighten things out with Amy, Wade walked over to the feed store. It wasn’t the ideal place for such a talk, but this wasn’t something they could ignore. They had to have an honest no-holds-barred discussion. And soon. Then he had an idea—he’d invite Amy to dinner. Tonight. At his place so they’d have the privacy they needed.
Never mind that he was absolutely devoid of any cooking talent. Hey, he’d barbecue a couple of steak
s, throw some fresh corn in a pot of boiling water. Couldn’t go wrong there.
Ellie was nowhere in sight and George was busy with a customer when Wade entered the store. A couple of local ranchers were hanging around the place, as well. Clyde Lester and James Ferguson sat on the front porch drinking cold sodas.
“’Afternoon, Reverend.”
“’Afternoon,” he returned and went in search of Amy.
He found her in the back of the store with Lyle Whitehouse. Lyle seemed more interested in talking than in buying. Amy didn’t see Wade and he suspected Lyle didn’t, either. He moved closer, not to eavesdrop on the conversation but…All right, he couldn’t help being curious.
“…like to get to know you better,” Lyle was saying.
“Thank you, but as I said, this saddle soap is the best one on the market.”
Irritation edged her voice. It was all Wade could do not to interfere, but he knew Amy wouldn’t appreciate that.
“I noticed you first thing the night of the big dance.”
Amy replaced the soap on the shelf. She didn’t respond.
“I was thinking you’d be a lot of…fun.”
“Is there anything else I could interest you in?” she asked coolly. The minute the words left her lips, her cheeks flushed red. “You know what I mean…”
“Sure thing,” Lyle said with a laugh. “And you know what I mean.”
“If George or I can be of any service, please let us know.”
Wade glanced around and wondered what had happened to Ellie; generally, as owner of the store, she was highly visible. He frowned. As far as he knew, Amy had been hired as a bookkeeper, not as a salesperson. He wondered when she’d started dealing with customers and why she hadn’t told him about the additional duties Ellie had given her.
“As a matter of fact,” Lyle said with a sly grin, “there is something you can do for me.”
Amy regarded him warily and Wade could see that the ranch hand’s proximity made her uncomfortable.
“What’s that?” she asked politely.
“As it happens I’m looking for a date Saturday night. Rumor has it you’re single.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m busy.”
“Not too busy though, right?”
“Yes. Far too busy, I’m afraid.”
Amy was about to move away when Lyle placed his hand on her shoulder and stopped her, pinning her against the wall. His oversize belt buckle nudged the mound of her stomach, and Wade felt revolted.
His hackles went up. He couldn’t tolerate the idea of any man touching a woman without her consent. As far as he was concerned, Lyle had stepped way over the line. But rather than make a scene, he decided to wait for a few more minutes and let Amy handle the situation herself.
“Ah, come on, Amy,” Lyle urged.
“No, thank you.”
“What am I missing that the preacher’s got?”
“Good manners for one thing,” Amy said, trying to get past Lyle. But he held on to her, his grip tightening.
“We could have a lot of fun together,” he said. “And once the kid’s born you and me could—”
“Let me go!” she demanded.
Wade couldn’t remain silent any longer. “I suggest you do as the lady asks,” he said, stepping closer.
Lyle snickered and met Wade’s look head-on. “What lady?”
Amy closed her eyes as if she’d been physically slapped. Without even knowing what he intended, Wade stormed forward and grabbed Lyle by the shirtfront and half lifted him from the floor.
“I believe you owe the lady an apology,” he said from between gritted teeth.
“This ain’t none of your business, Preacher.”
“Wade, please,” Amy pleaded.
Wade ignored her. Nose to nose with Lyle, he said, “I’m making it my business.”
“Is that your bun she’s baking in her oven, too?” Whitehouse sneered.
“We’re taking this outside, you bastard.”
“No!” Amy cried.
“Fine by me, Preacher man. I’ll be happy to kick your butt for you.”
Wade released him, and Lyle eased his neck back and forth a couple of times. “Anytime, Preacher man,” he muttered. “Any time.”
“Right now sounds good to me.”
“Wade, don’t.” Amy grabbed hold of him, her fingers digging into his upper arm. “It’s all right, please. I don’t want you getting hurt on my behalf.”
“I can hold my own,” he promised her. He turned and followed Lyle out the front door.
Lyle had his fists raised by the time Wade got outside. He squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight as he rolled up his sleeves.
“What’s going on here?” Clyde Lester asked.
“Preacher and I have something to settle man to man,” Lyle answered.
“Wade, you wanna fight this guy?” Clyde was clearly shocked.
He raised his own fists. “You’re damn right I do.”
The older rancher looked flustered and unsure. “George,” he shouted, “we got trouble here.”
George called out to Wade, who turned at the sound of his voice. He didn’t even see the fist coming. Lyle’s punch hit him square in the jaw. Unable to stop himself, he staggered a couple of steps sideways.
Clyde and his friend cried out that Lyle had cheated. But Wade figured he’d deserved that sucker punch. It would be the last swing Lyle took at him, though.
Wade let out a roar and surged toward Lyle, tumbling them both onto the ground.
Snatches of speech made it into his consciousness. He heard Amy pleading with someone to stop the fight. Clyde was still yelling that Lyle was a cheat. Then George shouted that he was phoning for the sheriff. Soon afterward he heard Lyle grunt with pain. Or perhaps he was the one grunting. Wade didn’t know anymore.
High school was the last time Wade had been in a fistfight, but he was strong and agile, capable of moving fast. And he wasn’t a coward. Some things were meant to be settled this way, although he generally avoided physical confrontation. But no one was going to insult the woman he loved.
He got in a couple of good punches; so did Lyle. They circled each other like angry dogs and were about to resume fighting when Sheriff Hennessey arrived.
Frank leaped out of his patrol car and stared at Wade as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “What the hell’s the problem here?” he said, pulling his nightstick from his belt.
“This is between Lyle and me,” Wade said, pressing his finger to the edge of his mouth. His jaw ached, and one eye felt like it was already swelling. Lyle’s face looked as if he’d been put through a garbage disposal. Wade figured he didn’t look any better.
“Lyle, what happened?” Seeing he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Wade, the sheriff tried the other man.
Lyle held Wade’s look. “Nothing we can’t settle ourselves.”
“Well, I don’t happen to like the way you two decided to settle it. I could haul you both into jail for disturbing the peace. That what you want?”
“It was my fault, Sheriff,” Amy cried, stepping between Wade and Lyle. “Wade thought I needed help…”
Sheriff Hennessey glared at Lyle.
“Were you bothering this young lady, Whitehouse?” the sheriff demanded.
A truck pulled up beside the patrol car and Ellie got out. “What’s going on here?”
“Seems like the preacher and Lyle here didn’t see eye to eye,” Frank explained.
“I didn’t do anything but talk to the little lady,” Lyle muttered. “Seems the preacher thinks he’s got squatter’s rights with her. He’s—”
“Leave it right there,” Frank said, stepping closer to Lyle.
“Are you going to arrest anyone?” Ellie asked.
Frank gave Lyle and Wade a hard look. “Is this over or not?”
Wade narrowed his eyes, which caused him more than a little pain. “If he’s willing to let Amy alone, then I’m willing to call it quits.”
> “Lyle?” Frank focused his attention on the other man.
“All right,” he growled, reaching for his hat. He shoved it on his head and stalked toward his truck.
“I think we’ve seen everything there is to see here,” Frank said to the small crowd of curious spectators. He glanced at Wade and his expression said he was disappointed.
Wade wasn’t particularly proud of himself at the moment, either. All he’d done was embarrass Amy and himself. He rarely let his temper get the better of him like this. It was a primitive response, he thought grimly. A primitive male response. He’d been in such a rage he hadn’t been able to control himself, but damn it all, he was supposed to be an example to the entire community.
“Oh, Wade.” Amy gazed up at him with tear-filled eyes. She raised her hand to his mouth.
He winced when her gentle fingers touched the corner of his lips. The taste of blood was in his mouth and his head pounded. His left eye was swollen almost shut.
“I’ve got a first-aid kit in the back of the store,” Ellie said.
Amy and Wade followed her to the office, where she took the kit out of the drawer, then left them. Wade was grateful until he saw the tears running down Amy’s face.
“Amy, darling, it doesn’t hurt.”
Her hands trembled as she tore open a gauze package. “Fighting! Oh, Wade, how could you?”
“I don’t know exactly how that happened. Things just escalated. In retrospect, I agree it wasn’t the best way to settle this, but I can’t change that now.”
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“I know, I know.” Just then he didn’t want to argue the right or wrong of it. He’d much rather Amy held him.
“Sit down,” she said curtly. He did, and she dabbed at the cut on his lip. “What do you think people will say when they hear about this?”
“Yeah, well, it can’t be helped.”
“All I’ve done is hurt you,” she said in a broken whisper.
He wanted to protest, but she touched an especially sore spot just then. He jerked back from her and brought his finger to the edge of his mouth.
Heart of Texas Vol. 3 Page 28
