by Myra Johnson
At least the extra coverage hadn’t brought any unwanted attention on Marley. Her father’s reelection had gone without a hitch, and Missouri State Representative Harold Sanderson would serve another term.
As Marley and Judy Jackson tested power connections in the stage area, Steve Whitlow’s red four-wheeler pulled up beside the tent. Ben climbed off the back and strode over. “You ladies need any help?”
“Almost done,” Marley said. “How’s the trail looking?”
“Ready to ride. Uncle Steve and I just drove the whole length of it to make sure all the trail markers are in place.” He whipped off his ball cap and drew his denim shirtsleeve across his forehead. “I need something cold to rinse the dust from my throat. Can I bring y’all anything?”
Judy tipped her head at Marley. “You two go on. I’ll finish up here.”
Marley had been up since dawn and was more than ready for a break. She walked with Ben to the Whitlows’ back porch and sank onto a deck chair while Ben dug through a cooler filled with ice and canned drinks. “I’ll take a diet soda if you can find one.”
He handed her a frosty can and popped the top on a root beer for himself, then collapsed into the chair next to hers and gazed off toward the activity around the party tent. “Tomorrow’s the big day, huh?”
“Can’t believe it’s finally here.” She offered Ben a heartfelt smile. “In case I haven’t said it often enough, thank you. Your promotion expertise made all the difference, I’m sure.”
“Pshaw, little lady,” he said in his pathetically fake John Wayne drawl. “Weren’t nothin’ at all.”
They sipped their drinks in comfortable silence for a few minutes. “How was your Thanksgiving?” Marley asked.
“Quiet and lazy. Naturally, Aunt Jane cooked up way too much food for the three of us.”
Marley studied him. Careful to keep her tone casual, she said, “I thought maybe some of your family from Houston might come out.”
The grimace on his face told her she shouldn’t have brought it up. “Let’s just say the family situation is a bit touchy these days.” He glanced her way. “You have a nice day with the Coutus?”
“Very.” He didn’t want to talk about his family, she didn’t want to talk about hers. Time to get back to the business at hand. Finishing her drink, she tossed the can in a plastic recycling tub. “I need to find my checklist so we can wrap things up. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”
As Marley crossed the gravel drive on her way back to the tent, a silver pickup drove up. Neil Ingram, the feature writer who’d been covering the event for the Alpine Avalanche, signaled to Marley. “Got time for a quick interview? I’d like some feedback from you and a few other volunteers so I can get a head start on my article for Sunday’s edition.”
“Sure.” Marley described some of the tasks the set-up crew had been working on, then gave Neil a chance to talk with Pastor Chris, Ernie and Judy.
When Neil finished with his questions, he snapped a few photos of the crew at work and said he’d be back tomorrow to get shots during the event. “I imagine you’ll be taking photos, too, Marley. If you send me some I can use, you’ll get the paper’s standard freelance rate.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Neil.” Any amount would help to keep the studio afloat. The January rent increase loomed large in her thoughts. Her constant prayer was to make enough profit not only to stay open in her current location, but also to end the emotional tug-of-war with her father once and for all.
* * *
Late Saturday afternoon, Ben leaned against the porch rail and looked out across rows and rows of pickups, SUVs and horse trailers. Most of the riders had returned by now and were unsaddling their horses and packing up tack. Ben would have enjoyed heading out on the trail himself, but between directing traffic and taking his turn in the barbecue trailer flipping burgers and grilling brats, he’d had plenty to keep him busy right here.
Music from the country-and-western band drifted his way from the party tent. The trail ride had proven a huge success, and last time Ben had seen Marley and her Spirit Outreach friends, they were toasting each other with soft drinks and sharing a lively discussion about what they could do to make next year’s event even better.
Ben almost felt sorry he wouldn’t be around to see it.
Aunt Jane came out with another tray of brownies for the concession counter. “What are you doing here all by your lonesome?”
“Just taking it all in. Quite a day, huh?”
“With all the money they raised, looks like it’s going to be a wonderful Christmas for Candelaria.” Aunt Jane handed him a brownie. “And did you meet the man from Big Bend Assistance Alliance? Marley told me BBAA’s making a sizable contribution to Spirit Outreach.”
“That’s great.”
“I hear BBAA might even open a branch office in Alpine.” Aunt Jane slanted him a look. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Mmm.” Ben bit off a chunk of brownie.
In an obvious stalling tactic, Ben’s aunt tucked the plastic wrap around the edge of her tray. “You should think about going down with them.”
Now he wasn’t following her. “What—you mean to Candelaria?”
Her smile spread. “It would be so good for you.”
Good for him. Right. “You know I’m taking things one day at a time. Any day now—”
“Yes, yes, I know.” Aunt Jane groaned. “You’re starting to sound like a broken record with all this job-hunting rigmarole.”
“But I—”
His aunt seized his hand and shoved the rest of his brownie into his mouth, silencing him. “God will provide the right job for you when He’s good and ready. And maybe a change of attitude, to boot.” With a saucy twist to her blue-jeaned hips, she marched off the porch and across to the tent.
Ben tried not to choke on the brownie. He hadn’t tasted brownies as good as Aunt Jane’s since his mother was alive. Mom’s sudden death had pretty much sealed his opinions about God, too. He probably did need a change of attitude, but it was nothing the right job offer wouldn’t fix. And no matter how much coaxing and cajoling Uncle Steve and Aunt Jane dished out, he simply couldn’t picture himself living and working on the ranch for the rest of his days. He knew little enough about horses and even less about cattle.
Before he got chocolate frosting all over his jeans, he went inside to wash his hands. As he tore off a paper towel, Marley entered the kitchen with a dishpan full of used serving utensils. He reached across the counter to take it from her. “How’s it going out there?”
“The last of the riders just came in and got some chow. We’re about to shut down the serving line.” Marley cast a longing gaze toward one of the kitchen chairs.
“Sit down, for crying out loud. You’ve been running yourself ragged all day.” Ben filled a tumbler with ice water from the fridge and gave it to her. They both took chairs. “Have you had a chance to eat?”
“I nibbled here and there.” Her fatigue couldn’t hide a satisfied glow. “We did good today, Ben. Really good. Those kids are going to have the best Christmas ever.”
A gnawing emptiness settled in his belly. When the time came to move on, he’d miss the deep-down satisfaction his involvement with Spirit Outreach had brought. The work had become more than a passing interest or a way to keep busy while he didn’t have anything better to do. In a few weeks’ time his concern had strengthened even more for Marley’s little border town and the people who didn’t share his advantages in life.
Marley’s hand rested on the table near her water glass. Slowly, Ben slid his hand closer until their fingertips touched. Keeping his eyes lowered, he studied the swirling wood grain in the tabletop. “I was thinking, if I’m still around when your team goes to Candelaria, do you think I could tag along?”
Her quick intake of breat
h spoke her surprise.
“I’d make myself useful.” Glancing up to gauge her expression, he chuckled softly. “You should know by now I can take direction and work well with others.”
She raked him with an appraising stare, but humor lit her eyes. “I must say, Mr. Fisher, your résumé is impeccable.”
“So am I hired?”
Growing serious, she asked, “Are you sure, Ben? Because I promise you, a trip to Candelaria will change your life, whether you want it to or not.”
He drew his fingers into a fist, knuckles resting uneasily on the table as his doubts kicked into high gear. “Like I said, it all depends on if I’m still around at Christmas.”
* * *
On Monday evening, the Spirit Outreach committee met to review income and expenses from the trail ride and assess the event’s overall success. Marley noticed Ben was conspicuously absent. True, his part was finished, but Marley had hoped he’d care enough to share in the glow of what they’d achieved. Guess she’d misread his interest in getting more involved. Obviously, Ben only cared about what was in it for him. Hadn’t she nailed it the day he’d asked her to stay for supper after the Whitlows’ anniversary photo shoot? A distraction. That’s all she, Spirit Outreach and Candelaria meant to him.
When Pastor Chris quoted their net profit from the trail ride, everyone applauded. “So now we need to go shopping,” he stated. “Angela, you’ve got the list of children’s names and ages, right?”
“I do.” Angela opened a folder and took out several printed pages. “Lucas Montero brought an updated list when he came for the trail ride. I thought we could divide into teams of two and split up the names for buying gifts.”
Pastor Chris agreed, and the committee members started pairing off. Marley expected either Angela or Judy would partner with her, but then Angela decided she and Ernie would shop together, and Judy and Pastor Chris teamed up. Since there was an odd number at the meeting, Marley found herself left out.
With a regretful smile, Angela whispered to Marley, “I thought maybe you and Ben...”
Marley shook her head. “Not a good idea. It’s okay. I don’t mind shopping by myself.”
“Why don’t you at least ask him? He’s one of the team now, after all.”
Surely Angela had noticed he hadn’t come to tonight’s meeting—or was she jumping on the matchmaking bandwagon along with Jane Whitlow? “I’ll think about it. Do you have a list of names for me?”
Angela winked and handed her one of the printouts. “Saved this one especially for you.”
Scanning the list, Marley read Isabella’s name and warmth rippled through her. Oh, yes, she’d have to find an extra-special Christmas gift for one of her favorite Candelaria children.
The meeting broke up, and Marley gathered her things. Settling into her car, she remembered to turn her phone off silent mode and discovered a voice mail waiting.
It was from Ben. “Sorry I missed the meeting. A heifer got caught in the fence, and I had to help get her untangled. Then the vet came out to stitch up her leg, and—well, you don’t want to hear all this. Anyway, congratulations again on a great fund-raiser.” He paused, as if unsure, then continued. “Call me sometime, okay? Uh, bye.”
What was it about the man, surprising her at every turn? Her heart flip-flopped, and before she could count off all the reasons she should not call him back, she hit Redial.
He answered on the first ring. “Hey. How’d the meeting go?”
“Fine. Everybody’s thrilled with how well the ride went. I—that is, everyone missed you.” Way to put your foot in it, Sanders. “How’s the cow?”
“A little worse for wear, but she’ll heal. I, on the other hand, may never again walk without a limp.”
“Oh, no! What happened?”
“The heifer wasn’t real happy about the vet’s big needle, so while I was helping to hold her still, my foot kind of got in the way of her hoof.”
“Ouch. Is anything broken?”
“Don’t think so, just bruised. I’m propped on the sofa with an icepack on my big toe.” The snickering in the background sounded like Ben’s aunt and uncle. He snorted. “You can tell what kind of sympathy I’m getting around here.”
Marley couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for him, herself. “How long before you’ll be up and around again?”
“Unless gangrene sets in and they have to amputate, I should be fine in a couple of days.”
“Glad to know it’s not serious.” The urge to laugh nearly choked Marley. She cleared her throat. “So, um, one of the things you missed at the meeting was dividing up a list of kids’ names for buying Christmas gifts.” She couldn’t believe she was really going to ask this. “Any chance you’d like to be my shopping partner? That is, if you think you’ll be up to traipsing around a few stores later this week.”
As his silence stretched longer, she held her breath. At last, his tone low and earnest, he replied, “Yeah, I’d like that. Thanks for asking.”
* * *
With another wedding on the schedule for the upcoming weekend, Marley decided Thursday morning would be her best time to close the studio for a shopping trip and give Ben’s toe a chance to heal. Ben planned to pick her up at the studio around nine thirty, so she arrived an hour early to take care of a few things in her office.
Checking her email, she found another reminder from her landlord about the January rent increase and her stomach bottomed out. Seconds later, a racket started up out front. Then her phone rang. She snatched it up and hoped the caller could hear her over all the noise. “Photography by Marley Sanders.”
“Hi, it’s Janet next door.” Janet Harders owned the antiques shop in the adjoining building, also leased from Marley’s landlord. “Guess you can tell they’re starting the renovations this morning.”
“Seriously? This close to Christmas?” Marley carried the phone to the front window. A construction van had parked crosswise across two spaces, and workmen in gray jumpsuits were unloading ladders and toolboxes.
“Hopefully this won’t last long,” Janet said. “Although I have to agree, a face-lift on these old buildings is long overdue.”
“Yes, but—” A ladder crashed against the outer wall and Marley flinched. “I’m not sure I can afford the higher rent.”
“Please don’t say you’re moving out. We’ve been so good for each other’s business.”
It was true, they often referred drop-ins looking for recommendations, but generally, shoppers were more interested in Janet’s antiques and specialty gifts than portrait photography or artistic photo prints. Marley stifled a sigh. “I’m taking it one day at a time. Oh, before I forget, I’ll be out of town week after next for the Candelaria trip. Would you mind keeping an eye on things here?”
“Glad to.” Janet asked about the fund-raiser, and while Marley tried to tell her about it over the noise from the sidewalk, Ben drove up in his Mustang.
He parked several spaces down from the construction van, then had to duck around one of the ladders on his way to Marley’s front door. He shot her a raised-eyebrow look through the glass before stepping inside.
Finishing her call with Janet, Marley carried the phone back to her office and motioned Ben to follow. “I’ll be ready to leave in a few minutes,” she said, taking her seat at the desk. “There’s coffee in the back room if you want some.”
“Had plenty already.” Ben nodded toward the front. “What’s all that about?”
Marley told him about the renovations. “I may not be around long enough to enjoy them, though. Our landlord’s raising the rent.”
“But you have such a great location here, and in the business world—”
“I know, I know. Location is everything.” Not in the mood to have this discussion right now, Marley returned her attention to the computer sc
reen. “Give me a sec to respond to a couple of emails and we can go.”
She’d barely typed five words when the phone rang again. It was the mother of the bride whose wedding Marley would be photographing on Saturday. “I’m so sorry to cancel at the last minute,” the woman said, her voice shaking, “but Lori’s fiancé called off the engagement.”
“Oh, no. Are you sure it isn’t just prewedding nerves?”
“Absolutely certain.” A hardness entered the woman’s voice, suggesting there was much, much more to the story. “I’ll mail you a check for your cancellation fee. Again, I’m very sorry to have inconvenienced you.”
“It’s all right, really. Just give my best to Lori.” Marley felt horrible for the jilted bride, but as she returned the phone to its cradle, her immediate thought was how she’d been counting on the money from this wedding to get her through the rest of December. Stomach churning, she sat back and closed her eyes.
“Marley?” Ben’s gentle tone reminded her they still had a shopping date.
“We should get going,” she said, pushing up from the chair. Then she immediately collapsed again as the combination of worry, frustration and anger drained the strength from her knees.
Ben rounded the desk and sank to one knee beside her. “Something tells me this isn’t only about a photo gig getting canceled. Want to talk about it?”
She waved a hand. “Not really.” It would be too difficult to describe her financial concerns without letting something slip about how—and why—her father subsidized the business. “It’ll all work out...somehow. God hasn’t let me down yet.”
The instant she spoke the words, it was like watching a curtain fall across Ben’s face. He stood slowly, putting distance between them. “I wish I had your faith.”
His defeatist expression squeezed Marley’s heart. She might be struggling to cover expenses, but at least she knew God was on her side. “Give Him a chance, Ben. God always has a better plan than anything we can devise on our own.”
