“Yes, it is.” John glanced behind Emily again, to the door only five feet away. So close yet so far. “Well, I’ve got to be going. You have a nice day.”
Behind his smile, John gritted his back teeth. Utter defeat consumed him as he watched Elva De La Soto, another elder member of his church, open the door. She rushed in wearing the familiar expression of tragedy on her face.
“Pastor John! I’m so glad you’re here. There’s been an accident at Second Crossing. It’s the Campbell girl’s Jeep. Is she babysitting your girls today?”
* * *
John ran to his truck and drove toward the pecan farm without a conscious thought. Fear and faith clashed in John’s brain. His phone started buzzing. Recalling the phone call about his wife’s accident, he froze. He stared at the unfamiliar number. If he didn’t answer he could stay ignorant of any bad news. He prayed with every fiber of his being for his girls’ safety.
Why had they been in the babysitter’s car? They weren’t allowed to travel with anyone without his permission. Amy knew his rules. His mind numb and his knuckles gripping the steering wheel, John turned onto Highway 83.
Faith would enable him to handle whatever waited for him. With a firm move, he accepted the call.
“This is John.” His own voice sounded foreign.
“Daddy?” a small tentative voice came over the line.
Relief flooded his body, and his hands began to shake. John cleared his dry throat. “Hey, sweet girl. Are you okay?”
“I’m...I’m a little scared, but Rachel told me not to be. The car is upside down. A deer ran into us. Ms. Amy and Rachel are in the ambulance. Rachel told me not to cry, and Lorrie Ann said everything’ll be okay.” She sniffled. “Daddy, please come get me.”
Amy’s yellow Jeep came into view. He swallowed back the bile that rose from his stomach. Reality and memories tangled in his vision. Flashes of his wife’s crumbled silver Focus clouded his eyesight. The accident had been his fault. Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on today.
All four wheels faced the clear sky. The driver’s side was smashed against a cedar break. The trees had stopped the Jeep’s free fall into the river below. At the sight, his body stiffened; he could no longer feel his limbs.
His two little girls had been in that jumbled piece of metal.
John pulled his truck to an abrupt stop on the side of the highway, the loose gravel crunching under his tires. His gaze scanned the area.
The trooper’s red and blue lights reflected over the people starting to mill around the crushed car. His six-year-old daughter sat on the front seat of a little BMW, her bare feet dangling in front of Lorrie Ann.
His throat closed up, and for a minute, he couldn’t breathe. Thank You, God! Thank You!
“I’m right behind you, baby. I’m here. I’m going to hang up now, okay?”
His youngest daughter’s head whipped around, searching for him. Before his boots left the old truck, she had started running to him. In a few strides, he had her pulled up close against his heart.
Her thin arms tightened around his neck, threatening to cut off his air. One hand cradled the back of her head; the other scooped up her bottom. Her legs wrapped around his torso.
“Hey, monkey. It’s all right. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He whispered into her ear, taking in the smell of her apple shampoo. He closed his eyes and for a moment focused on her heartbeat. The warmth of her tiny body absorbed into his.
Thank You, God.
He opened his eyes and found Lorrie Ann staring up at him.
“Hello again.” She reached out and patted Celeste’s back. “I was first on the scene. Amy and Rachel are with the EMTs. They’ll be fine—just a bit more banged up.” Her voice remained calm, and the softness in her eyes soothed him with the compassion he saw.
He glanced to the open doors of the ambulance. Fear slammed its way through his gut. Celeste wiggled under his tightened grip. He closed his eyes, sent a quick prayer and relaxed his muscles.
“You can take Celeste with you. I promise it’s not bad.” Her smile reassured him she understood his hesitation of taking Celeste to the ambulance.
What she couldn’t see? The images flashing in his mind of his wife’s accident. He swallowed hard and pressed his lips against Celeste’s forehead. With another prayer, he hurried across the street to his oldest daughter while carting his six-year-old on his hip.
“Rachel?” He poked his head around the door only to find Amy, his seventeen-year-old babysitter, on the stretcher. “Hello, Amy.”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Pastor Levi, I’m so sorry. I know I wasn’t supposed to take them, but they wanted apples for the chicken salad. They said it was your favorite. I’m so sorry.”
“I just want y’all to be safe.”
From the far side, he heard voices.
“Daddy? Are you there?” Ducking around the ambulance, he found Rachel. His stress lightened a bit at the sight of Brenda Castillo, in her blue EMT uniform, bent over his daughter’s leg.
“Hello, Pastor John.” Brenda smiled at Rachel. “See, I told you he would get here before we left.”
“Daddy, I’m so sorry.” Huge tears spilled out of her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
His chest clenched at the sight. “Oh, princess, there’s nothing for you to apologize for. It was an accident.” He went to bend down, but with Celeste still in his arms, he almost lost his balance.
“Here, let me help.” The soft voice surprised him.
Lorrie Ann had followed them over. Before he could do anything, a pink zebra-print golf cart drew everyone’s attention as it charged onto the highway. Dust flew as the small woman, Margarita Schultz, set a determined course straight at them.
“Aunt Maggie!” his daughters and Lorrie Ann yelled as one voice.
The cart threw pebbles as it slid to a stop. Without slowing down, Maggie jumped from the seat. Short black-and-silver-streaked hair flew around her face. Large dark eyes flashed with worry as she hurried over. “What is going on here, mija? You scared me to death with that call, young lady.” She looked around, and her hand went to her chest. “Oh, no, Amy’s Jeep is...” She went to her heels beside Rachel. “Oh, mija, are you all right?” She glanced at Brenda and then to John. “Is she going to be all right?”
“Her leg needs to be x-rayed.” Brenda spoke to John. “We have it stabilized. You can take Rachel to the hospital yourself. Steve and I are taking Amy to Uvalde.”
Maggie turned back to John. “You take Rachel.” She put a hand out to rub the slim back of John’s youngest daughter. “We’ll take care of Celeste. You won’t feel right until you have Rachel all safe and sound. I’ll start the prayer chain.”
“Are you sure, Maggie?” Torn, he pushed his daughter’s loose curls behind her ear, hesitating. “Maybe I should take Celeste with me.”
“You don’t know how long you’ll be there. We’ll make sure she eats lunch. I’d get you something to eat, too, but I know you won’t touch a thing until you see for yourself Rachel is fine. So go on with you.”
“Thank you, Maggie.” With a finger under her little pointed chin, John lifted his tiny daughter’s face up to his. “Do you want to stay with Aunt Maggie?”
She nodded slowly and, to his surprise, reached for Lorrie Ann. Maggie’s niece extended her arms, pulling the little precious body from him. He reluctantly let her go.
In truth, he wanted to hold on to her forever, but he needed to get to Rachel and focus on her. “Lorrie Ann, thanks for being here and staying with them.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
Her smile held him mesmerized for a moment, until he heard Maggie’s gasp. She had noticed the bruise under Lorrie Ann’s eye.
“Were you hurt, too?”
“No. It’s just a bump. Go on,”
she said to him. “You need to get Rachel to the doctor.”
As a pastor, he had gotten good at spotting a guilty face, and Lorrie Ann’s screamed guilt as she sliced a look back from him to her aunt. They both knew the bruise had been there before the accident.
With a last kiss on Celeste’s forehead, he promised to return soon.
* * *
Lorrie Ann watched as John carried his injured daughter across the street. Her heart ached at the careful tenderness he used to settle her in the cab of his old Ford.
She wondered what it felt like to be cherished that way. With a shake of her head, she forced her attention back to the child and Aunt Maggie. “Well, ladies, ready to go to the house?”
“I want to ride in the zebra car.”
“No, you go on with Lorrie Ann. I’m going to speak to a few people.” Maggie turned and cut off a small crowd heading their way, sacrificing herself to the persistent string of questions. Lorrie Ann gratefully dodged the mob and hurried to her BMW.
She buckled her new friend in and headed for the ranch house up the hill.
“Do you live close by, Celeste?”
Celeste twisted and stretched from her seat belt, looking out the window. Her blond curls bounced with each bob of her head.
“Yes, ma’am, we live in the big cabin there—the one behind Aunt Maggie’s house.” She pointed and turned back to Lorrie with a grin.
Lorrie fought the urge to bang her head against the steering wheel. Of course they did. Where else would he live, other than the cabin a few steps from her aunt’s back door?
Chapter Three
Lorrie Ann paused at the wrought-iron gate that led to the terra-cotta-paved courtyard. Wisteria and roses climbed the white stucco walls. The large ranch house rambled off both sides of the patio. Lorrie Ann smiled at the turquoise door.
All the hours and years she’d spent waiting for her mother to come back rushed in and filled her mind.
“Are we waiting for Aunt Maggie?”
The child’s voice pulled her back to the present. She smiled down at the rumpled-looking doll and took the small hand in hers.
“No, just caught up in some memories.” Pulling air through her nose and slowly releasing her breath, she took one step forward. “Let’s go to the kitchen door. I bet she has something we can heat up for lunch.”
Obviously familiar with the home, Celeste headed to the breezeway. The traffic-worn stones gave testimony that family and friends went straight to the back door.
Stepping into the kitchen, Lorrie Ann had the unexpected urge to cry. Spices from all the meals cooked over the years lingered in the air. The clay bean pot and flat cast-iron griddle sat on the old white stove.
“Did you live here when you were a little girl?” Celeste asked as she twirled in the middle of the large open kitchen. “I want tortillas. Do you think she has some papas?”
“Now, that is a word I have not heard in a while.” Lorrie Ann opened the refrigerator door and dug around until she found an old margarine tub with cubed potatoes that had been panfried. “Here we go—papas!”
“And tortillas!” Celeste held a wicker basket of tortillas like a trophy. “But I’m not allowed to touch the stove.”
Lorrie Ann turned on the burner and adjusted the flame.
“After school, my cousin, Yolanda, and I would race in here to fight over the first tortilla.” Maggie’s daughter always argued that since she was younger by four years and it was her mother who made them that she should get the first one.
At the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room, Celeste jumped on a stool and started spinning in circles. “Is Aunt Maggie your real aunt? Did your mom and dad live here, too?”
“Maggie is my mom’s older sister. My mom traveled, so I just stayed here.” The story slipped from her lips naturally as she flipped the tortilla.
“What about your dad?” The child spun the chair in the opposite direction.
“My father?” A good question her mother never answered. “Um...well. He’s gone.”
“He’s dead?”
Lorrie Ann gasped. “Oh, no.” What had she done? “Oh, oh, no. I mean...I don’t know. No, uh...” How did she get out of this?
“You don’t know? I’ll ask Daddy to pray for him. Rachel says he has the most important job in the world.”
Lorrie Ann scooped the potatoes into the warm tortilla. She glanced at the door. “Aunt Maggie should be here any minute.” With plate in hand, she turned away from the stove to face the child.
Celeste’s head popped up over a pyramid made of red cups. Her tongue stuck out between rows of tiny white teeth.
Lorrie Ann froze. “Oh, my...you...um...you need to sit down.”
“I just need to add the last guard to my castle.” She balanced the spoon against the side of the top cup, but as she pulled away, the whole structure collapsed.
Heart in her throat, Lorrie Ann dropped the plate on the counter and rushed to grab Celeste before she fell. “I think it would be better if you didn’t stand on a swivel chair.” With a heavy sigh, she started picking up the cups.
Celeste joined her. “I’m sorry, Miss Lorrie Ann. My sister says I need to learn to sit still.” Her voice sounded subdued.
With a forced smile, she faced the little girl. “No harm done.” She patted her on the head. “It’s okay, rug rat.” They put the last cup back on the counter. “See, everything’s back in place and nothing broken. But I would suggest not standing on moving chairs.” She patted the seat. “Cool tower, by the way.”
“Thanks.” The smile beamed again.
“Here you go. Time to eat.” She scanned her brain for a safe topic. “I think I saw grapes. Do you want some?” She went back to the refrigerator and pulled out a clear bag full of the fruit. While washing them, she glanced out the big picture window, hoping to see her aunt. She sighed at the empty driveway and tore off a small bunch of grapes for Celeste.
“Oh, I can’t eat whole grapes. Daddy says they have to be cut in half so I don’t choke. Hot dogs, too.” She tossed a cubed potato in her mouth. “Why do they call the purple crayon grape when grapes are green? Will you please cut them? Daddy won’t let me use a knife.”
“Sure.” She pulled a small knife from the same drawer they had been in twelve years ago.
“I tell Daddy that only babies eat cut grapes, but he says I’ll always be his baby.” She stuck out her tongue and scrunched her little nose.
“In Los Angeles, cut grapes are gourmet food. I only eat sliced grapes myself.” She pulled a white plastic knife from the drawer and handed it over to Celeste. “Here, you can use a plastic knife.”
Together they sliced the grapes. Lorrie Ann tossed one up to catch in her mouth, but it bounced off her chin, causing the sweetest giggle to come from the other side of the counter. She closed one eye and looked at the little girl with the other. “Hey! Are you laughing at me?”
Celeste sat up straight. Her ponytail swung with the shake of her head while her shoulders trembled as she failed to hold down her laughter.
Both turned at the sound of the screen door opening.
“Aunt Maggie, look! Miss Lorrie Ann taught me how to make gourmet grapes.”
“She has always been very creative.” She smiled at them then headed to the red wall phone. “Give me a minute. I need to start the prayer chain and call your grandpa.”
“He’s at the five hundred pasture today, Aunt Maggie.”
Maggie ran her finger down a list of names. “Well, then, I’ll just leave him a message.” She pushed the buttons on the phone. Bare spots on the twisted ten-foot cord exposed colored cables.
Lorrie Ann smiled. “Do you ever think about getting a cordless?”
“Oh, Yolanda bought me one of those, but I lose it all th
e time. This one works just fine.” As she listened to the rings on the other end, she glanced around the kitchen. “Where’d Celeste go?”
With a gasp, Lorrie Ann turned to the empty chair the little girl had been sitting on, and her heart froze in her chest. How did she lose one little person? “Celeste?”
She moved through the large archway that led to the family room. “Celeste?” Behind her, she heard muffled giggling. Shooting her aunt a questioning look, she only received a smile and shrug. Aunt Maggie turned to finish her phone call.
So, she was on her own again with the small creature. “Celeste, where are you?” She started scanning the floor and under the counter.
Huddled in a ball under the ten-foot pine table, Celeste giggled again.
Lorrie Ann went to the floor. “May I ask why you’re hiding in the chair legs?”
“I’m a rabbit and this is my home.”
“How about a movie?” Aunt Maggie asked from across the room.
Celeste wiggled her nose. “Okay.” She started hopping out then stopped. “You’ll stay with me?”
The same golden-brown eyes Lorrie Ann had looked into this morning pierced her heart. What would it be like to see your own features in a child? She doubted she’d ever know.
“Sure.”
Less than fifteen minutes into some princess movie, Celeste fell asleep, curled up like a kitten with her head resting on Lorrie Ann’s thigh. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back on the overstuffed leather sofa.
Aunt Maggie walked into the living room. “I figured she’d go to sleep.” One click of the remote and the princess’s song went silent. “Now, Lorrie Ann Ortega, you will tell me what happened that brought you home.”
Lorrie Ann kept her eyes closed and wondered how long she could fake sleep.
“I know you aren’t asleep.”
Apparently less than a minute. With a heavy sigh, she opened her eyes.
“I needed to get away. Once I was on IH 10, coming here just felt right.” She rubbed her arms and studied the sleeping child in her lap. “I really don’t want to talk about it right now. I have the holidays off, so here I am. After Christmas I’ll go back to L.A. recharged and ready to take on the world again.”
Lone Star Holiday Page 3
