The Cowboy's Homecoming

by Brenda Minton

  He hadn’t seen too many happy relationships in his life and figured he was a lot better off than the friends who’d started believing they needed to settle down and have a family. Wyatt didn’t look too worse for wear, though.

  “Looks like it might storm.” Jeremy nodded toward the southern sky. It was Oklahoma, so there was always a pretty good chance it might storm.

  “Yeah, looks that way. We’re under a tornado watch until this evening. No warnings, yet.” Wyatt pulled keys out of his pocket.

  “Yeah.” Jeremy ran out of things to say about the weather.

  Wyatt grinned and tipped his hat back. “I know you don’t want to talk about the church, but you bought it and you had to know that’d stir up a hornet’s nest. I’ve known you a long time and you’ve always been fond of a hornet’s nest if you could find one.”

  Jeremy told himself not to respond to his friend’s baiting. He smiled and kicked his toe at the ground. Yeah, he wasn’t going to ignore it.

  “Wyatt, the church was for sale and I bought it. If people in Dawson are suddenly attached to a building they’ve neglected for years, that’s their problem. Someone else could have bought it.”

  “Someone else could have,” Wyatt said. “No one did.”

  “Right. I bought it and I plan on building a business that might give a few people in Dawson the jobs they need.”

  “That’s a decent idea. But you have two hundred acres across from the church. Why not build your business over there?”

  “I’m building a house on that side of the road and I’m buying cattle.”

  “Yeah, I saw that they finished framing the house yesterday. It’s pretty huge for one guy. Are you actually going to live in Dawson?”

  Jeremy stopped at the edge of the sidewalk. “I’m going to be here part of the time.”

  “The church means a lot to a lot of people. I know it doesn’t seem that way.”

  “No, it doesn’t and I kind of wonder why everyone suddenly realizes the church means something to them.” Jeremy glanced at Wyatt.

  “Pastor Adkins kept me in church after my dad’s big indiscretion. I guess Back Street is what got me where I am today.”

  “Gotcha.” Jeremy processed the story with the others he had been told. “Sorry, Wyatt, I have to get back and get back to work.”

  “Work?”

  “Business doesn’t stop because the boss is out of town.” He gave Wyatt a tight smile. “I’m managing my business from a laptop in the RV and trying to help Dane with a flaw in a bike we’re designing.”

  Jeremy had partnered with Dane Scott in team roping years ago. And more recently in the custom bike business.

  “I’d like to come by.”

  “If you want a cup of coffee or you’d like to see the bike we’re building, stop by anytime.”

  “And don’t bother hitting my brakes if I’m there to talk to you about the church,” Wyatt added for him.

  “Sounds about right.” Jeremy touched the brim of his hat and walked across the drive to his truck.

  When he pulled up the drive of Back Street Church, Beth Bradshaw was sitting in front of his RV. He hadn’t expected her to be the one pounding his door down trying to save this church. But why wouldn’t she be the one?

  Maybe, more than anyone, Beth needed to fight this battle.

  He joined her on the glider bench outside his RV. She scooted to the edge, as far from him as possible. He tried real hard not to let that hurt his ego. He figured she had a lot of reasons. One might be that she hated his guts.

  That didn’t sit well with him, the idea of her hating him.

  He pushed the ground and the glider slid back and forth. Sitting there on the glider with her kind of felt like courting the old-fashioned way. The only thing missing was lemonade. She probably wouldn’t see the humor in that, but he did. The two of them as nervous as cats sitting on a glider, what else could he think?

  He had to lead the conversation in another direction, away from courting Bethlehem.

  “I kind of thought you might thank me for tearing this church down, Bethlehem.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “It’s your name.”

  “No one calls me Bethlehem and you know it.”

  He started to remind her that her mother had called her Bethlehem. Neither of them needed that memory. He glanced at the box on her lap. She had her hands around it, like a little girl holding on to a treasure.

  She glanced at him, a cowgirl face with straight brown hair in twin braids and eyes that pinned him to the spot. She’d have him questioning everything about himself if she didn’t stop looking at him like that.

  “Why would you ever think I’d want this church torn down?” Her words were soft, matching the look in her dark eyes.

  He shook his head and reined in the part of him that wanted to give her everything.

  “I don’t know, I guess I thought it was tied to a lot of memories that you’d want to be rid of, not memories you’d want to hang on to.” He eyed that box again, wondering why in the world she’d brought it here and what it would mean to him.

  Jeremy’s words played through Beth’s mind. She settled her gaze on the church. It was weathered and beaten down, forgotten. She’d been riding past this church her whole life, and since she’d come home from California those rides had resumed. Sometimes she even stopped and sat on the front steps.

  As a teenager, when she’d felt the most alone, she’d found peace here. He wouldn’t understand. He would think she was weak if she told him that she’d hidden here, trying to find answers, to find a way past the pain of losing her mom.

  She cleared her throat.

  “I brought you something.” She reached into the box and handed him her mother’s Bible. She had no idea why she wasn’t keeping it for herself.

  He needed it more? Maybe because she hoped something in there would stop him. He wasn’t going to listen to her or anyone else.

  Maybe he would listen to her mom. Her heart trembled a little, afraid of his reaction, afraid of her own reaction. He took the Bible from her hands.

  “Beth, this isn’t fair.”

  “It was my mother’s.”

  “I can’t take this.”

  “She would want you to have it. I think she would want you to know what she thought of you.” Her hands trembled as she reached, flipping the pages of the book in his hands. “There are prayers in here, for Jason and me. Also for you and Elise.”

  He let out a shaky breath and she waited. He didn’t react. After a few minutes he stood and walked away, still holding her mother’s Bible. She considered going after him, trying to talk to him.

  Her feet wouldn’t move in that direction. Besides, she knew when to let a man be. This was one of those times. He walked across the church lawn, head down, the Bible in his hands. He climbed the steps and walked into the church, closing the door behind him. It didn’t take a genius to know he didn’t want to talk.

  Guilt flooded her. For years Chance had used God’s word to beat her into submission. She didn’t want to do that to Jeremy. She considered going after him and apologizing.

  She watched the door, waiting for him to come back out. The wind picked up. The southern sky was dark. She shivered a little and watched as clouds moved. A band of gray on the horizon meant rain and it was getting wider. Before long she’d have to hightail it for home.

  A truck rumbled down the road and pulled into the crumbling parking lot that hadn’t seen this much traffic in years. Jason’s truck.

  Her brother parked and got out. He walked toward her, his smile familiar. The one person to hold her life together, her brother. He’d always been there for her. He’d done his best to make her smile during their mother’s illness and after they’d lost her. He’d been the one sending money to California as her marriage fell apart.

  “What are you doing here?” He looked from the church to her and then at the darkening sky. “Did you know there’s a tornado watch and a severe
thunderstorm warning?”

  “I heard on the news earlier that we could have storms today. It’s May in Oklahoma, what’s new? What are you doing here?”

  He sat down next to her. “Same as you. I thought I could talk him out of it. Or maybe offer him enough money that he’d walk away.”

  “He doesn’t need money.”

  “No, I guess he doesn’t.”

  “He needs closure.” She bit down on her bottom lip, letting that thought settle in. “He’s a lot like dad. They both blame this church for their pain. Dad kept us away. Jeremy wants to tear the church down.”

  “Interesting.” Jason crossed his left leg over his right knee and relaxed, as if it was just a pretty summer day and they were sharing iced tea on the front porch. Instead they were both casting cautious glances toward the southern horizon. “Where is he?”

  “Inside the church.”

  “Hmm.” Jason smiled, the way Jason did. He’d always been the one finding ways to make everyone laugh, to make them smile when they didn’t feel like smiling. When he’d stopped smiling, God had sent Alyson and she’d helped him find his joy again.

  He’d learned that he didn’t always have to be the one lifting everyone else up. Beth loved her sister-in-law for doing that for him.

  Sometimes she was jealous, that everyone seemed to be able to find someone to love them, to keep them safe. Her memories of a relationship were of abuse and fear, not safety or security. She had memories that no one would understand, so she didn’t share.

  “Beth, be careful.”

  “It’s a storm, Jason. I’ve been through a few.”

  He shook his head and his smile faltered. “That isn’t what I mean and I’m pretty sure you know that. Jeremy has a lot going on in his life.”

  “Right, and I’m not the best judge of character.”

  “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “I know.” She smiled, for Jason. “I won’t get hurt.”

  The wind picked up and in the distance jagged lightning flashed across the sky. Thunder rumbled and the humidity in the air was heavy. Jason pulled out his phone.

  She glanced at the radar he’d pulled up on the screen. The big red blob was lingering over their area of the satellite map.

  “Great.” She watched the darkening clouds and trees leaning and swirling with the wind. “I guess this might be a good time to pray.”

  A sprinkle of rain hit her arm. Beth looked up at the sky and then at the dusty, dry ground as the raindrops hit. It had been so long since it rained that the droplets bounced and didn’t soak in, not immediately.

  Faith. She’d been through a drought, a long man-made drought, but faith was seeping back into her life. Her spiritual life had been a lot like hard, cracked earth, devoid of moisture. When faith started to return it was that same earth but with a trickle of water streaming through it, soaking into the dryness.

  “We should probably go.” Jason stood, pushing his hat back from his face as he studied the sky. “This doesn’t feel right.”

  “What, you don’t love that green sky?”

  “Not particularly.”

  She loved the rain. She loved storms. On the drive over a DJ on the radio, probably trying to be a comedian, had played the Jo Dee Messina song, “Bring on the Rain.” Beth found herself singing one line from that song, that she was not afraid.

  The front door of the church opened. Jeremy stepped out on the porch. He was still carrying the Bible. Next to her, Jason made a noise and she shot him a look to silence anything he would say.

  But he said it. “Is that Mom’s Bible?”

  “It is.”

  “Dad gave you the box?”

  “He did.”

  “And you brought the Bible to Jeremy Hightree?” Jason’s voice was tight, not really disapproving.

  “I did. I just thought…”

  “You might have pushed too far, Beth.”

  “Maybe. But I don’t think so.” She met her brother look for look. “If this doesn’t work, I’m moving on to step two, and then step three.”

  “I knew I shouldn’t have told you about the historical society.” Jason murmured, then smiled and waved to Jeremy.

  Jeremy Hightree walked down the steps of the church. He glanced at the sky, watched for a minute and headed in their direction. He looked relaxed, in jeans, boots and a deep red shirt. But casual was a facade on this cowboy.

  Rain was misting down on them and the wind was picking up.

  “Jeremy.” Jason held out his hand. Jeremy took it, a quick handshake and then his gaze dropped to Beth.

  She waited. And wished she was tall because then he wouldn’t have to drop his gaze to meet hers. She could face him, head on, eye to eye.

  He held out the Bible. “I can’t keep this.”

  “She cared about you.”

  “I know she did, but this is something she wanted you to have.”

  “We should go.” Jason shot a quick look at the sky. “Now!”

  Her brother took hold of her arm and started to pull her toward the parking lot and their trucks. Her gaze shot to the southern horizon. Wind blew against them, slowing their progress and the rain hitting Beth’s face stung like ice against her skin.

  A slow, loud warning siren sounded in the distance and she heard Jeremy yelling at them to stop.

  Chapter Four

  The tornado siren sounded as Jeremy watched Beth heading for her truck, Jason at her side. She turned to say something. Her words were lost in the strong gust of wind that hit, blowing leaves across the church lawn and small limbs from the few trees.

  Jeremy scanned the horizon. A warning didn’t necessarily mean a tornado on the ground. Sometimes a warning was just a warning.

  This time, though, things were a little different. He could feel the energy, the hum of the storm, the vibration of it. The deafening roar echoed in the distance.

  “We should head for the basement.” Jeremy watched the sky as he yelled, cupping his mouth to get the sound across the wind.

  Jason nodded and started back, his cell phone in his hand. Jeremy guessed he was probably calling his wife. Beth stood frozen a few feet behind Jason.

  “Beth, come on.”

  She nodded but she didn’t move. She was watching the sky, the wind blowing her hair. A gust caught her hat. She pushed it back down and held on.

  Jeremy raced across the crumbling parking lot and grabbed her arm. “This is not the time to stand and watch.”

  The roar increased in intensity. To the south the clouds were now tumbling and rolling, a dark mass of swirling destruction.

  “Hurry.” He had hold of Beth’s arm and she was fighting him, pulling away.

  “I can make it home.”

  “Beth, head for the church,” Jason yelled as he pushed his phone into his pocket and turned, glancing at the dark clouds and then at his sister.

  Jeremy cursed under his breath and picked her up. She was light in his arms and her protests were weak. Her arms went around his neck and he didn’t know if it was rain or her tears that soaked his shoulder.

  “I can walk.” Beth struggled a little, and he held her tight.

  “I know you can but…” He shook his head, not wanting to get stuck in the storm while she watched the clouds.

  As they raced to the church, pieces of insulation fell from the sky. Jeremy ducked his head into the wind. That put his face pretty close to Beth’s. And she smelled so good he decided carrying her was about the best idea he’d had in a while. Or maybe the worst.

  Jason was ahead of him, jerking the door of the church open. They raced through the building to the door at the back of the sanctuary. The basement was dark. The steps were narrow.

  He hadn’t turned on electricity to the building. There hadn’t seemed to be a reason.

  Jason pulled out his cell phone and lit up the steps with a patch of blue light. Jeremy held Beth tight and followed the other man down the steps. The basement held two classrooms and a kitchen
/fellowship area that had seen better days.

  “The back room,” Jeremy yelled, and he didn’t have to. The deafening roar had been left behind. The basement was pretty quiet, and a whole lot eerie. Jason glanced back and nodded. The room in the corner was the smallest and safest.

  “Let me down.” Beth came back to life, fighting in his arms.

  “Not until we’re in that room and safe. I’m not going to let you freeze up now, or have you head back upstairs to chase tornadoes.”

  “I didn’t freeze. I just didn’t…” She shuddered in his arms. “Don’t grab me again.”

  “I won’t. Once you’re safe I’ll never touch you again.”

  Man, that wasn’t a promise he wanted to keep. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, she felt good in his arms.

  He put her down in the corner of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. The windowless room cut them off from the rest of the world. Buried beneath the ground, it was nearly soundproof. Their cell phones glowed an unearthly blue.

  He turned, surveying their shelter, flashing his cell phone around the darkness. He’d had Sunday school in this room as a kid. It had been painted white, to dispel the dark, windowless gloom. Posters of Jesus had hung on the walls to add color. There had been an easel with a felt board in the corner for paper cutouts of Jesus and the disciples.

  Now the room was draped with spiderwebs that clung to his clothes. He brushed a strand from his face and hoped the resident hadn’t remained behind.

  Back then he’d been a kid who knew how to pray. Man, he didn’t have a clue where that kid went. Somewhere along the way he’d started taking care of things on his own.

  Lot of good that had done him.

  He scanned the room looking for the flashlight he thought he’d left down here a few days earlier, when he’d been poking around in the old building, stirring up dust and memories. He’d left it in the kitchen.

  “I have a flashlight out there.” He yanked the door open and ignored objections from Jason and Beth. The flashlight was on the counter next to an old avocado-green fridge. He grabbed it and raced back to the shelter of the classroom.