His Small-Town Girl

by Arlene James

  An acoustic guitar had been propped against an old upright piano in one corner, and hanging fixtures of cheap, unpolished brass lit the room. The tall, narrow windows had been painted in swirls of blue, green and gold, softening the austere interior. A fresh flower arrangement of red carnations supplied the only other splash of color.

  A young woman in an ankle-length black knit dress, her pale hair twisted up against the back of her head, moved forward and took a seat at the piano. She opened her sheet music and began to play softly, prompting those visiting in the aisles and over the backs of the pews to take their seats and ebb into silence.

  Grover Waller, dressed in a severe black suit that did nothing to alter his jovial appearance, hurried forward and occupied one of the chairs on the platform. A tall, gaunt younger fellow and a stout middle-aged woman joined him. After a few moments, the music stopped, and the young man stepped up to welcome everyone and make announcements.

  The gutters on the “education building” needed cleaning. Next Sunday everyone should bring a dish to the monthly potluck dinner. For November no potluck dinner had been scheduled due to the annual Thanksgiving feast. Sign-up sheets could be found on the narrow tables at the back of the sanctuary. The youth would be taking the church van to a movie in Duncan on the following Saturday evening. Everyone was encouraged to attend the football game on Friday and cheer on the local team at home.

  Next came announcements from the congregation. First one and then another stood to proclaim good news. This one’s daughter had won the lead in the school play. That one’s son had been elected to student council. A plump woman with suspiciously dark hair stood to declare that she had finally become a grandmother. The nineteen-inch-long, seven-pound infant resided in Houston with her parents. An older couple stood to be applauded for celebrating fifty-four years of marriage. Several confessed to birthdays during the coming week, at which point the crowd spontaneously broke into congratulatory song, accompanied by the piano.

  Finally Grover stepped into the pulpit to call the congregation to worship with prayer. Tyler dutifully bowed his head, but he soon found himself looking up in surprise as Grover took on the authoritative tone of a true man of God. Tyler noticed that several people had lifted their hands toward heaven. He’d never seen that before.

  Tyler had attended church often enough, mainly whenever it had seemed necessary or expedient. His family held membership at one of the oldest, most notable churches in Dallas, and there had been many weddings, funerals and baptisms over the years. He’d always found it a pleasant, restful experience filled with beautiful music and formal speech. On occasion he’d even felt an odd tug at his heart, but he’d never felt this sense of community.

  More revelations followed. The gaunt fellow went to strap on the guitar, while the stout woman moved to the front of the platform to lead the music. And such music! It was so exuberant that Tyler actually felt a bit uncomfortable at times, though he had to admit that those around him seemed to be having fun.

  Four men took up an offering before Grover returned to the pulpit to preach because, he later joked, stepping on toes tended to close wallets. Tyler dropped a hundred dollars into the plate when it came by, wishing he could have doubled the amount, but with a mere seventeen bucks in cash left in his pocket, he’d have to visit an ATM soon. If he could find one.

  Grover Waller proved to be a huge surprise. Tyler had liked the round, friendly, soft-spoken man when he’d gotten to know him the day before at the dominoes table, but Waller hadn’t quite fit Tyler’s idea of a clergyman. That idea changed fast. Grover didn’t preach so much as he taught, didn’t exhort so much as encourage, yet he was blunt to the point of shocking, at least to Tyler’s way of thinking.

  “Your sin is no different from the sin of the worst mass murderer in history,” he declared. “In God’s eyes, sin is sin, brothers and sisters. It is the great equalizer. Don’t go congratulating yourselves because you don’t do what some others do or because some folks think you’re pretty swell. If you have not found the saving grace of Jesus Christ, you’re no different in God’s eyes than anyone else. And if you have received that grace, you really have no excuse for not living a life pleasing to your Heavenly Father.”

  The preacher went on to speak about the Holy Spirit and matters that Tyler frankly did not understand, but those first words tied up his mind to the point that he couldn’t really even think about anything else. He realized with some shock that in a far corner of his mind he’d always thought that he was somehow different from everyone else. He was Tyler Aldrich.

  Too often in his business dealings he’d encountered exaggerations and outright lies, so he prided himself on his honesty. God knew that he didn’t steal, as so many did, padding accounts and invoices. But then why would he since he’d always had anything and everything money could buy in the first place?

  Okay, he didn’t outright lie, but he did expect others to take his word at face value and agree with it, which they usually did—everyone but his family, who had no respect for his position. But why shouldn’t his word be accepted? He was Tyler Aldrich of the Aldriches, CEO of Aldrich & Associates Grocery. And here stood this man telling him that his smallest evasion was judged just as harshly by God as the worst case of mass murder.

  The idea took Tyler’s breath away, and suddenly the snobbery for which he had so long condemned his mother and sister seemed as much a problem for him as for them. Why should the Aldriches be better than anyone else? Could his honesty be of any more value than another man’s? More valuable than Holt’s or Hap’s or Charlotte’s? If his sin was no different than anyone else’s, how could his goodness be?

  And what about this grace of which Grover spoke?

  Tyler paid little attention to the remainder of the service, so caught up with this idea of his sin being as bad everyone else’s in the whole wide world that he couldn’t concentrate on more immediate events. He considered the possibility that Grover had concocted this sermon just for him, but try as he might, the startling concept of equality in God’s eyes wouldn’t let him go.

  You’re no different in God’s eyes than anyone else.

  By the time he managed to shift mental gears, he and the Jeffords were standing outside beneath a darkening sky. A few people headed straight for their automobiles, but most clustered in small groups, talking and laughing.

  Almost immediately a bunch of young people surrounded Ryan, who seemed quite popular with his students. They all evidently knew Hap, too, who teased and joked with them.

  Several men approached Holt, stepping aside for a moment of conversation. That left Tyler with Charlotte, which suited him just fine.

  A number of people engaged them in passing, several pausing to shake Tyler’s hand again and thank him for visiting, and then a tall, solidly built fellow with a toddler, a girl, parked in the crook of one elbow stepped up to Charlotte. Garbed in a white shirt and tie, sans jacket, with blond hair falling rakishly over one brow, he literally radiated fondness—and something more.

  “Why, Jerry!” Charlotte exclaimed, stretching upward to press her cheek to his. “I didn’t expect to see you until the holidays.”

  “Sandy’s mom is having new flooring installed at her house. We came down to help her move stuff out of the way.”

  Charlotte spent several moments fussing over the child, who cuddled shyly against her father’s shoulder with her thumb in her mouth. “She’s just so adorable.”

  “You’re looking good.”

  Smiling, Charlotte rocked up onto her toes. “Thanks. So are you.”

  Tyler was beginning to feel left out and more than a little miffed about it. Who, he wondered, was Jerry, and what did he mean to Charlotte? Tyler sensed a history here, and he didn’t like it, especially considering that light in Jerry’s eyes.

  “Is Sandy with you?” Charlotte asked.

  “No, she’s sleeping in this morning. Every little thing seems to sap her strength these days.”

  “Oh? I ho
pe she’s not ill.”

  Jerry smiled. “Actually she’s pregnant again.”

  “How wonderful!”

  “We’re hoping for a boy this time.”

  “Wouldn’t that be perfect!”

  Suddenly everything changed. It was as if lightning had struck but no one felt it except the three of them, Charlotte and Jerry, who stood looking into each other’s eyes, and Tyler, who stood staring at them.

  “You should be a mother,” Jerry said softly, and in that instant Tyler knew, even before Jerry guiltily switched his gaze to Tyler himself.

  Ignoring Jerry’s last statement, Charlotte slipped an arm through Tyler’s. “What a ninny. I was just so surprised to see you I didn’t think to introduce Tyler.”

  She hastened to give the men each other’s names without a single word of explanation. Jerry nodded in acknowledgment just as a light rain began to fall.

  “I’d better get her back to her grandmother’s,” he said, laying a protective hand over the child’s head.

  “Give my best to Sandy,” Charlotte called as he moved away.

  Before the fellow was out of earshot, Holt joined them, people scattering in every direction. Hap headed for the truck as Ryan took off at a jog for the parking area in the rear of the building. Tyler could do nothing except hurry Charlotte toward the pickup. Holt caught up to Hap and held his arm as they crossed the street. Tyler yanked open the rear door and handed Charlotte inside, leaving the front seat for Hap this time.

  “Whew! Weather’s turned off nasty,” Hap observed in his gravelly voice as Tyler slid in next to Charlotte.

  “I’m surprised it held off this long,” Holt commented.

  Tyler realized that he wasn’t going to get an opportunity to find out about Jerry Moody and just what the man meant to Charlotte. He felt a petty, sick resentment over that. Looking down at his damp jacket, he could only shake his head.

  What was wrong with him? So Charlotte had once had a boyfriend who’d married someone else. What difference did it make? Except it did, somehow. In a very stupid, selfish, inane way, it even hurt.

  They pulled up at the motel, and Holt killed the engine, declaring, “I can smell that ham from here, sis.”

  Tyler immediately became aware of his empty stomach. He’d skipped breakfast in order to be ready for church on time, and now he regretted that. He regretted, too, the thought of a lonely meal, and he absolutely hated the feeling of wanting to tag along with the Jeffords like some waif from another century.

  Charlotte chuckled and said to no one in particular, “I guess you’re smelling those potatoes and gravy, too.”

  “Nothing better than red-eye gravy,” Hap declared, opening up his door.

  Holt hurried around to assist his grandfather, but Charlotte stayed where she was for a moment, gazing over at Tyler with calm eyes. “You’ve got time to change, if you want, but don’t take too long at it.”

  Tyler felt his heart thud. “I’m invited to dinner?”

  “Well, of course you are,” she said, hopping out of the truck, “and I expect you to eat it while it’s hot.” She dashed for the kitchen door, leaving him alone in the truck.

  So he was expected for dinner, was he?

  He smiled.

  Funny, he’d never realized that the sun could shine even in the gloom of rain.

  Chapter Nine

  Ryan sat back with a satisfied sigh and patted his firm middle. “Sis, it is downright sinful the way you cook.”

  “I’d have to say it’s delectable,” Tyler remarked, smiling up at her.

  He’d been doing that a lot, smiling at her, and every time her heart rate kicked up another notch. She didn’t know when she’d decided to include Tyler in Sunday dinner. It just didn’t occur to her not to. Even before Jerry had surprised her on the church lawn, she’d taken it for granted that Tyler would be at her dinner table. If it had seemed more important that he be there after she’d talked to Jerry, well, she wouldn’t think about that now. Obviously the rest of the family had expected Tyler to join them because not even Holt had said a contrary word when Ty had walked in. Ryan especially seemed to enjoy his company.

  Always less intense and more trustful than Holt, Ryan’s easy, open-armed acceptance of this newcomer in their midst came as no surprise. He took after Hap in that way. Still, Charlotte wondered if perhaps Hap had said something to Ryan about Tyler, something to make Ryan think that she had feelings for Tyler or vice versa, but somehow she didn’t think he had.

  She thanked the men for their compliments and rose to begin clearing the table. Ty immediately jumped to his feet, but Charlotte quickly refused his help.

  “No, no. I’m going to clear and stack, but the boys always wash up on Sundays. Don’t you, guys?”

  Holt shot to his feet and headed toward the lobby, saying, “Right after the game.”

  “What he means,” Ryan clarified, rising more decorously, “is right after we eat the leftovers for supper.” He clapped a hand onto Tyler’s shoulder, saying, “You do like football, don’t you?”

  Tyler nodded, seemingly torn between helping her and watching the football game. Hap got up and hobbled after Holt, saying, “Come on, there, boys. We got a tradition to uphold here.”

  Charlotte made a shooing motion with one hand, and Tyler finally relented. She tried not to be flattered that he appeared to prefer clearing the table with her to watching the game with her brothers.

  Ryan, being the more enthusiastic of the two, pushed ahead, leaving Ty to bring up the rear. Charlotte couldn’t help glancing in his direction—or admiring the way those new jeans fit him.

  She bowed her head, confused by her own reactions and thoughts. Could it be that God was trying to tell her something? Shaking her head, she rejected all possibility that God might intend Tyler Aldrich to become more than a pleasant interlude in her life.

  She and Ty lived in two completely different worlds. His kind of life terrified her. How awful it would be to constantly fear not fitting in. Conversely, the idea that a rich man from the big city would find her lifestyle appealing was nothing less than laughable. Besides, he’d given her no real signal that he found her more than a curiosity.

  Feeling incredibly foolish, she quickly cleared the table, stowed the leftovers to be reheated later and stacked the dishes to be washed. Then she removed her apron, dislodging the headband in the process. She smoothed her hair back from her forehead, replaced the headband, tugged at her jeans and turned toward the door. Sucking in a deep breath, she pasted on a smile and went to join the men.

  Holt had stretched out on one of the sofas, his booted feet propped on the arm, while Hap occupied the rocking chair as usual, and Ryan sat at one end of the remaining couch, his gaze fixed on the television screen. Tyler had taken the other end, leaving only the middle of the sofa for her, unless she chose to pull out one of the straight chairs around the game table. That seemed rude somehow, telling, so she went to sit next to Ty. No sooner did she lower herself to the cushion than Ryan jumped up, hollering with glee. At the same time Tyler leaned forward, laughing, and Holt bolted into an upright position.

  “I guess our team scored,” she commented brightly.

  Tyler sat back, casually lifting an arm about her shoulders as he turned to address her. “That’s twice in eight minutes!” He looked to Holt, exclaiming, “Now tell me the quarterback is too young.”

  “That doesn’t mean the coach isn’t too old,” Charlotte pointed out.

  Tyler looked at her in surprise. A smile spread slowly across his face. “You think the coach is too old, do you? I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.”

  “You know the coach?” she asked, wondering why she should be surprised.

  “Ty has a box,” Ryan announced pointedly.

  “You mean a private box at the stadium?” Charlotte clarified.

  “It’s the company’s box,” Tyler said lightly.

  “We’re all going to go down to join him for a game sometime,” Holt c
ommented in a dry tone.

  Charlotte doubted that very much. For one thing, all of them never went anywhere together except church; someone had to take care of things around here. Besides, she couldn’t believe that either Hap or Holt would ever willingly make the drive to Dallas. Ryan would jump all over any actual invitation, and she hoped he got one, but chances were that Tyler Aldrich would forget all about them as soon as he left here. And that was for the best.

  Talk continued in a lively vein, the men arguing the merits of various elements of the team. Charlotte had her own opinions, and she quietly interjected them into the conversation. Several minutes passed before they all settled down again. Only then did Charlotte realize that Ty had never removed his arm from about her shoulders and that she’d somehow shifted closer to him.

  She contemplated moving away, but she didn’t want to call attention to the situation, especially as no one else even seemed to notice. After some time, she allowed herself to relax and get caught up in the enjoyment of the game and just sharing space with those dear to her. Only later did she question the wisdom of including Tyler Aldrich in that category.

  Tyler sat forward on the couch and clasped his hands together between his knees, forearms resting on his thighs. The Jefford men had trooped en masse to the kitchen, looking for food now that the football game had ended. How they could even think of eating, he didn’t understand, but he appreciated the opportunity to be alone with Charlotte, all the same.

  Now that it was just the two of them, though, he didn’t quite know what to say. The Jeffords as a whole were easy people to be around. Hap treated him almost like family, while Ryan already seemed to think of him as a good buddy. Even Holt, who at times acted like he expected Ty to make off with the family silver, obviously bore him no ill will. Their welcoming acceptance frankly floored him. No doubt they treated everyone else the same way, but Tyler still reveled in their friendship.