Matt nodded, but as Carter returned to the pew, he realized a couple of things. Talking to Matt hadn’t been as hard as he’d thought.
And Emma was right about her comment about community. He was looking forward to catching up with Matt, an old friend who knew him before his life fell apart.
The building had filled while he was gone, and he had to scan the now-full pews to find his grandmother.
He found her, but as he was about to step into the bench, he paused.
Emma sat at one end, rooting through the purse parked there previously. Adam sat beside her, leaning over to see what she was digging around for.
She wore a long pink sweater over a cream-colored tank top and a beige skirt. A scarf wound around her neck gave her an ethereal look. When she looked up, the happy smile she gave him went straight to his heart. Then he caught Nana watching him, and he stifled his reaction.
He slipped back into the pew. Just as he put the Bible in the empty rack in front of him, the singing group came to the front and everyone got to their feet.
The first song was unfamiliar, as was the second one, but the music was light and uplifting. A couple of times he glanced over at Emma, who smiled as she sang, obviously caught up in the music.
The song finished and Emma glanced sidelong. As their gazes met, he felt it again. A connection. A sense that something could happen between them.
She seemed secure in her faith and as their eyes held, he endured a moment of envy. At one time he’d trusted God to watch over him and his family, but that trust was choked in the aftermath of Sylvia’s and then Harry’s death.
He yanked his gaze away from Emma. There was no future for them. She had a son. He’d had a son once, and he couldn’t take care of him. Couldn’t protect him.
Easier to stay alone.
The congregation sat down and the minister asked them to turn to the Bible. He pulled his out and opened it, holding it so Nana could read with him. She gave him a quick smile then put on her reading glasses.
“He who dwells in the shadow of the most high will dwell in the shelter of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.’”
Those words caught Carter cold. He didn’t trust God. Nor could he say he had found shelter in the Almighty.
He let the rest of the words of the psalm slip past him.
The Bible reading was over and the minister began his sermon. Carter leaned back in the pew, his eyes drifting over the familiar setting. Five hundred and eighty-five tiles in the ceiling. Twenty-five panes of green glass, thirty panes of yellow glass, forty panes of blue glass in the stained-glass windows. Everything the same as it was when he was a little kid, coming here every Sunday.
The minister’s pulpit was in exactly the same place it had been since he was a kid. Cross behind him on the wall. Everything was the same as when Harry’s coffin sat at the front of the church.
He yanked his gaze away, and his attention was snagged by Emma. She sat with her arm around Adam, whose head lay on her lap, his legs on the pew. He was sleeping. But her focus was on the minister. Her expression held an eager look, as if she took in everything he said and heard something Carter didn’t.
He caught himself turning his own attention back to what the pastor was saying, wondering what caused that rapt look on Emma’s face.
“God has never promised that we wouldn’t have trouble, but He has promised to be alongside us in that trouble. So that we can, in the midsts of the storms of our life say with conviction, ‘It is well with my soul,’” the pastor was saying. “We need to know more than anything that peace is not the absence of trouble in our lives—peace is the presence of God.”
He spoke with such conviction that Carter caught himself clinging to his words, seeking some sliver of the elusive peace he had sought since Harry died. At one time he had trusted God. Did he dare trust Him again?
But what was the alternative? Chasing after work, after money—neither of which satisfied? Running away from the pain?
Carter looked down at his hands, now clasped tightly together. He wanted to believe God was at his side, that in His presence he could find peace. He wanted to trust God again.
He didn’t know if he dared.
He chanced another look at Emma, wondering what she was thinking, and was surprised to see her looking at him. She gave him a careful smile, and his heart lifted in response.
She’s pretty.
And she’s not for you. You are on your own.
He tore his gaze away, thankful to hear the minister announce the closing song. He got up and sang along, but he couldn’t shut his mind off to what the minister had said or to Emma’s presence beside him.
Why did he have the feeling the two were intertwined?
She shouldn’t have come to the family lunch.
Emma fussed with her scarf, all the while conscious of Carter sitting directly across from her. Once again she wished she had turned down Shannon’s invitation to join the Beck family for lunch after church.
She tried to say no. However, Adam, lured on by Nana Beck with the promise of some new farm animals for the set he always played with, wouldn’t let Emma refuse.
But now having Carter sitting right across from her was disconcerting and unsettling. The last time they’d shared a meal, it hadn’t ended well.
And let’s not forget your little lecture of last night.
Yet even as she acknowledged her cynical alter ego, another part of her felt something else was happening. Something a bit dangerous and, if she were completely honest with herself, a bit exciting.
He’s a good-looking, hurting man. You’re a lonely sympathetic person. Bad combination.
“Good message this morning, wasn’t it?” Nana Beck was saying as Shannon spooned out the soup.
Silence followed that comment. Emma glanced from Carter to Shannon, feeling that it was their place to reply to the comment, not hers.
Carter’s attention was on his bowl and Shannon tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear and sat down, fussing with her gold necklace.
“I especially appreciated how the minister said not the absence of trouble but that peace is the presence of God,” Nana Beck continued, undaunted by the silence that greeted her.
Another pause followed, broken only by the clink of silverware on Nana Beck’s china. Emma tried not to squirm in the uncomfortable quiet. She was sure Carter was thinking about his son and Shannon was thinking about the man who had left her just before their wedding.
“I know each of us sitting here at this table has had trials and doubts,” Nana added, “but I like what the pastor was saying when he quoted C.S. Lewis. ‘God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains.’ I know that I prefer to be whispered to.”
More silence.
Emma couldn’t take it anymore. “And yet at least for me, it has been in the hard places of my life, the moments I have struggled the hardest with God, that I have felt the closest to Him.”
Nana Beck shot Emma a look of gratitude. “Isn’t that true. I know that after both Sylvia’s then Harry’s deaths, I clung to God. Though I was angry with Him and hurt, I felt His nearness in a way I hadn’t felt since my husband, Bill, died.”
Emma sensed that Nana Beck’s reference to Harry as well as Sylvia was deliberate, and while she buttered Adam’s bun, she shot Carter a covert glance to see what his reaction was.
His features were unreadable.
“I know I question God at times,” Shannon put in. “I wonder why things go the way they go…” Her voice faded away, and Nana Beck caught her arm and gave it a light shake.
“You are a beautiful woman, Shannon. And you deserve much better than what that snake Arthur did to you.”
Shannon shook her head, as if dislodging her memories. “Gotta admit, it’s a bit hard living in Hartley Creek knowing that I’m the cliché bride-almost-left-at-the-altar. But, my problems are small compared
to some.” Shannon gave Carter a meaningful glance, but his attention was still on the bowl in front of him.
“What new animals did you get for the farm?” Adam piped up, his completely unrelated question breaking the awkward silence after Shannon’s comment.
“I got some goats and some chickens,” Nana Beck said, relief entering her voice at the change in topic. “Some of them were missing, so I bought new ones.”
“Did the boy lose them?” Adam asked, swirling his spoon through the soup, chasing down a meatball.
Emma handed him a bun and shot him a warning frown, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking directly at Carter.
“You mean Harry?” Shannon asked.
Adam ducked his head, looking down at his bowl again. “Mom said I’m not ’sposed to talk about him,” was his subdued response. “She said it hurts Mr. Carter, and I don’t want him to be sad again.”
The atmosphere around the table held a heavy expectancy, and Emma wished her son was less forthcoming.
“I’m sorry,” Emma glanced around the table. “We had a talk about…and—”
“I’m not angry with you, Adam.” Carter put his spoon down, folded his elbows on the table and leaned forward, his gray-blue eyes focused on Adam. “And I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”
Emma held her breath, her gaze flicking from Adam to Carter, wondering what her son would say next.
Adam pursed his lips, as if thinking. He chased down another meatball and fished it out of the soup. Then he shot Carter a shy glance. “It’s okay. My mommy said sometimes it’s better to talk about things. But if you don’t want to talk about Harry, I’ll keep my mouth shut.”
Note to self: give Adam minimal information to save maximum embarrassment.
“No, you can keep talking, Adam.” Carter’s smile was cautious. “I like hearing what you have to say.”
Adam perked up at that. “Do you like playing with the farm animals?”
Emma groaned inwardly. Every time they came to Nana Beck’s for dinner or coffee, Adam tried to con someone into playing with the farm set.
Carter gave a light shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I could find out.”
“Do you know the rules?”
“Honey, Mr. Carter might not like playing by your rules,” Emma said gently, throwing Carter a quick smile. Adam seemed willing to ignore any discomfort he felt with Carter to gain an unwitting player.
“I know the rules Harry used to use,” Carter said.
Nana Beck pulled in a quick breath, and Emma saw her glance at Shannon as if to gain confirmation of what she had just heard. But Shannon’s attention was riveted on Carter and Adam, her green eyes flicking from one to the other.
“What rules did your boy use?” Adam asked, oblivious to the heightened tension in the dining room.
“He always wanted the cows of all the same color to be together in a field,” Carter said, crumbling his crackers into his soup. “And the sheep and goats had to be in their own pen.”
“Because they are the same,” Adam said, signaling his approval. “What did he do with the chickens?”
A melancholy smile drifted over his lips. “He kind of let the chickens go wherever they wanted.”
Adam frowned and shook his head. “I never let the chickens do that.”
Here come Adam’s rules, Emma thought, opening her mouth to intervene. She felt a foot nudge her and glanced over to Nana Beck, who gave an imperceptible shake of her head.
As Adam listed out the reasons Harry had done it wrong, the corners of Carter’s mouth quirked upward. Then he glanced at Emma. She couldn’t look away, inwardly pleased at his reaction to Adam’s prattling.
Then, to her confusion, she felt it again. The sense that everything else slipped away in his presence. That she and he were the only people here.
She dragged her gaze away, feeling suddenly flustered. Unsure. This wasn’t going the way she had pictured. This was dangerous. She shot a quick look at Adam, a visible reminder of her priority.
Carter is leaving. You are leaving. Focus on Adam.
“And the horses have to get water in the river because my mom says it’s better for the horses,” Adam was saying, swinging his legs back and forth as he warmed to his subject. “At my grandpa’s ranch we had a big black tub to water the horses. When it was hot I would swim in it. You should get a big black tub for the horses. Then I can swim there because I can’t swim in the river. Mom says it’s too dangerous and I might drown.”
Carter’s lips had thinned at Adam’s innocent prattle, and Emma knew her son had ventured too close to Carter’s deepest pain.
“Are you finished with your soup?” She put her hand on Adam’s shoulder and nudged his bowl toward him with her other hand, hoping he got the hint.
Adam ducked his head and picked up his spoon again. “Do I have to finish it all?”
“Yes. Otherwise you don’t get dessert,” Nana Beck said.
“How is the house hunting going?” Carter’s voice held a strained note as he turned his attention back to his grandmother and cousin.
“We found a smallish house,” Shannon said, breaking open her bun, shifting to a safer topic. “It’s close to downtown and the doctor’s office.”
“It has an excellent view of the ski hill,” Nana Beck put in. “Hailey will love it.”
“Speaking of, is my cousin making the pilgrimage home to see you, Nana?” Carter asked, his voice lightening and a smile lifting the corner of his mouth.
“She came to see me in the hospital,” Nana said, her voice softening.
“Where is she now?” Carter asked.
“Working in Calgary,” Shannon said.
“I wish she would come back to Hartley Creek,” Nana Beck put in. “I know she loves it here.” Nana shot Carter a frown. “She’s going to be upset when she finds out that you’re thinking of selling the ranch.”
“I already talked to her, Nana. I even offered her a chance to buy the place herself.”
Nana Beck snorted. “As if she could afford it on a teacher’s salary.” She sighed. “This place has been in our family for decades. I still can’t believe—”
Shannon covered Nana Beck’s hand with hers. “I know it’s hard to understand, but Carter has to make up his own mind about the ranch.”
Though she spoke quietly, Emma caught the glance Shannon sent Carter’s way.
She felt bad for him. Though she agreed with Nana Beck, Shannon was right—it was still his decision to make and his ranch to sell or keep.
“I still think you’re making a rash decision,” Nana Beck said.
Carter eased out a sigh. “I’m sorry this isn’t working out for you. But I can’t stay here, and you want to move anyway.”
Silence followed that comment.
“Before the ranch changes hands, we’re going to have to organize a family get-together here,” Shannon said. “Get everyone together one more time. Let us have a chance to remember old times.”
It wasn’t too hard to hear the melancholy tone in Shannon’s voice, and Emma felt a twinge of sympathy for her and Nana Beck but also for Carter. He carried the weight of family history on his shoulders, and she sensed that the memories of each family member added to his burden.
“We’ve had lots of good memories here,” Shannon added, cupping her hands around her mug. “Do you remember that time that Naomi and Hailey dressed up like ghosts?”
“Oh, my goodness, yes.” Nana Beck shook her head, but she was smiling. “Garret screamed like a girl when he saw them rise up out of the pumpkin patch.”
Laughter followed this memory.
“Then Garret got them back with that pail of water above their door, remember?” Carter said with a grin.
“Except I was the one that got drenched,” Shannon said.
While the conversation skipped back and forth, recollections and old stories spilling out, Emma quickly finished up her lunch, encouraging Adam to do the same.
Though she
knew all the names of Nana Beck’s grandchildren and much of what they were doing, she sensed Carter, Shannon and Nana Beck would be more comfortable sharing family stories without her around.
“Thanks for lunch,” she said, as soon as Adam finished the last of his soup and the bun she made him eat. She got up and brought their bowls to the counter. “Adam and I have to get going.”
“But I want to play with the farm set,” Adam said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve instead of the napkin.
“You can play with that another time.” Emma shot him a warning glance.
“Nana Beck said she had some new animals and I didn’t get dessert.” His voice lifted toward the end of the sentence, coming dangerously close to whining territory.
“We can come back and play with the animals another time—”
“Nonsense. He can play with them now.” Nana put her hand on Emma’s arm when she came back to the table to get Adam. “I did tell him he could.”
Emma was torn between keeping a promise to her son and wanting to let the Beck family spend time together without her, an interloper, around.
“I don’t want to intrude,” she said quietly.
“That’s silly,” Nana said with a frown.
Adam dragged at her hand. “Please, Mom? We can play in the living room. Real quiet.”
Emma bit her lip, relenting. “Okay. Just for a little while, then we have to go.”
Adam didn’t wait for the rest of what she had to say. He was gone before she finished saying “Okay.”
Emma followed him to the living room. Adam was pulling the box out of the bottom cupboard of the bookshelves.
As they laid out the farm set and Adam imposed his strict regimen, snatches of conversation slipped to the living room. Emma tried not to listen in, but part of her yearned for the connections and history Carter shared with his cousins. The banter and half-finished comments that didn’t need to be completed because everyone knew the rest of the story.
Emma had grown up an only child who never got to know the grandparents who lived so far away. Her father had a sister who lived in Florida, also single. And that was it. The line of the family ended with her and Adam.
The Rancher's Return Page 8
