Lone Star Holiday

by Jolene Navarro

  Silence stretched out between them. She struggled with her thoughts and what she wanted or what she should do. Stick to the plan, girl. Get your life in order and head back to California.

  His calm voice pulled her out of the vicious cycle of her thoughts. “Just take your time and please don’t let your aunt blackmail you into doing anything.”

  The tension eased a bit. She rolled her shoulders and twisted her neck, forcing her body to relax. “Thanks. It’s not that I don’t want to help. I just don’t have anything to give right now.” She could make out his nod in the dark.

  With his encouragement, she continued, “I’m the last person anyone wants at the church.” She rubbed the back of her neck and gave a halfhearted snort. “I’m way too flawed to be directing anyone about the birth of Christ.”

  “See now, there’s where you’re wrong. Sometimes it’s the imperfections in our lives that make us the perfect choice to help others.”

  She snorted. “I have never been the type to help others. I’m pretty much a look-out-for-myself type of girl.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I can see that.”

  Turning away, Lorrie Ann focused on the outline of the surrounding hills. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, she could not resist a glimpse back at John, but the moment she made eye contact, her muscles froze. He had set a trap, and like an experienced hunter, waited for her to enter. The warmth of his eyes held her in place as strongly as an iron cage. Heavy stillness sparked the air around them.

  He took a step closer, his right hand wrapped around the smooth wood, a butterfly’s touch from her fingers. She tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone sand dry.

  “I...” She what? Shouldn’t be here, had already fallen in love with his girls, needed to go back to L.A....wanted to kiss him. She felt her skin tighten and heat up. “I...um.” She needed the ground to open and pull her under, that’s what she needed.

  This gorgeous, perfect man standing in front of her had two little girls and he worked for God. A few steps and she would be safe on the other side of the door. Focused on the escape, she willed her feet to move.

  His hand left the railing and gently touched her arm. “Lorrie Ann, it’s okay. You don’t have to volunteer for the Christmas pageant. But if you could help me with the girls while you’re in town I would appreciate the time.”

  An invisible hand guided her gaze back to his face. That was her excuse, anyway.

  “This might be hard to believe, but most people find Celeste just a bit overwhelming.” He pushed his hair away from his forehead and stared at the surrounding hills. “Rachel can be so closed off and reserved. She has a hard time with new people in our lives. They both love Amy, but she’s out for a couple weeks while she recovers.” He turned back to her. “They seem comfortable with you.”

  Rachel...liked her? He had to be joking or blind. After a long pause, she decided he must be blind. “You know they see Amy as safe. They don’t have to protect you from her.”

  “Safe? Protect me from what?”

  She saw confusion on his face. Poor man. “The women in this town who want to either marry you or set you up with someone in their family.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” He jammed his hands in his front pockets.

  “Rachel told Celeste to be careful when the ladies are nice to her because they want to date you.” She smiled. “According to Rachel, you have to be protected from the ladies because you’re busy doing God’s work and saving people.”

  “Celeste told you this?” His words, slow and pronounced, came one at a time.

  “Yes. They don’t worry about Amy. You’re too old for her, and she doesn’t have any family members they have to worry about.”

  John turned from her and leaned his forearms on the top railing with his fingers entwined. One polished burgundy boot rested on the bottom. The mesmerizing eyes that had held her now contemplated the night sky.

  She had tried to be funny, but her efforts seemed to have fallen flat.

  “Every decision I made after Carol’s death was for the girls’ sake. How did I miss this?” His low voice sent an arrow straight to her heart.

  “You’re a great father. Some parents never give a thought to how their decisions affect their children. Don’t beat yourself up over this.”

  Once again, his full attention fell on her face. His eyes moved over every inch, resting on her left check. “You told Maggie you got the bruise from the accident. But you had it earlier in the day.”

  She turned away from him. He didn’t seem to care about what had happened twelve years ago, but how would he feel if he knew the truth of her choices in the past two years?

  She flashed him a full smile. “That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”

  “Okay, we’ll leave it at that for now. So what about the girls—will you help me out for the next few weeks?”

  She shrugged. “Are you sure you want me?”

  He gave her a simple nod.

  “Okay, how can I be of service?”

  “I take them to school in the morning, but I need someone to pick them up other than Monday. I get them on Monday. They get out of school at three-fifteen. I’m usually home by five, unless there is an emergency. Wednesday night I’d need you to bring them home like tonight. Get them tucked into bed. That’s it.”

  “I think I can handle that. I really like them. You’ve done a great job.”

  “Thanks. I paid Amy...”

  “Oh, I’m not taking your money. I’m just helping out. Use the money for something more...I don’t know...useful, like a vacuum cleaner.”

  With a low chuckle, he turned sideways, leaning on the railing, and smiled. “So you don’t have use for money? Independently wealthy, are you?”

  A flash fire surged through her body. “I’ll have you know, I have worked hard for every penny. I...” She paused at the sight of his raised brow and smirking lips.

  Taking a deep breath, Lorrie Ann calmed herself before continuing, “Sorry, I can get a bit defensive.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, I need to go. You have to get up early and I’m keeping you.”

  “Let me check on the girls, and I’ll walk you home.”

  Following him into the cabin, she stopped at the bedroom door, allowing him to go in alone. She felt like an intruder as she watched him whisper something to Rachel. His daughter settled back into her pillow, and he kissed her forehead before moving to the other side. He straightened the sheets Celeste had kicked off, her small body sprawled across the king-size bed. The thought of the little girl not even remaining still in sleep melted her heart a bit, and it scared her.

  In a few weeks she would be back in L.A., and attachments led to hurt. She was already regretting her agreement to help out. She needed to get better at saying no.

  She moved away from the bedroom door to lean against the hallway wall. She pushed her tongue hard against her teeth and wrapped an arm around her stomach. She had to get out, away from John and his girls. Her hand grasped the handle.

  “Lorrie Ann?” He moved beside her, his arm reaching across her to open the door.

  For a second she imagined those arms embracing her. His voice brought her back to reality.

  “Thanks again for helping. It’s a huge worry off my shoulders.”

  John’s presence warmed her insides with each step across the wooden planks of the deck. She longed to stay next to him, but those thoughts were dangerous.

  Biting her lip, Lorrie Ann reminded herself of all the reasons she needed to remain distant from him. It was hard when just walking silently next to him comforted her. The spark of anticipation kept her wanting to know him more.

  But she wasn’t what he needed. Without a doubt, he would not like what he found. People didn’t stay; it was best to be the first to go.

  H
is voice yanked her from the spiral of depressing thoughts. “Um...Lorrie Ann, I was wondering what you were doing Saturday night. I have a friend from Houston who’s an artist, and he’s having an opening in Kerrville. It’s his first solo show in Texas. I told him I’d be there. Would you join me? It won’t be like anything in L.A., but he’s an incredible artist.”

  She froze. Excitement, doubt and fear battled it out in her brain. She stared at him, unable to make a decision. Had he just asked her out on a real date?

  The silence became awkward. His hand moved to the back of his neck and his eyes darted, glancing everywhere but at her. She had no idea what words to form. She felt her mouth open, but no sound came out. He finally broke the agonizing stillness.

  “Listen, don’t worry about it. It’s just...I never invite anyone in town because it could lead to misunderstandings and assumptions. With you leaving soon, I just... It’s no big deal.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Lorrie Ann’s eyes went wide in surprise. Don’t overreact. She shrugged and played with her bracelets. “I’ll check to see if I’m busy.” Lame. “Night, John.” She turned away from him and walked as briskly as possible without actually running. Even though running did seem the best plan of action.

  Chapter Nine

  John hit the razor on the side of the sink and rotated his face around to check for any missed spots. He looked himself in the eye and berated the man in the mirror again. What possessed him to invite Lorrie Ann to Gary’s art opening? He just got her to agree to watch the girls, so why did he feel the need to push himself into her life even more? After wiping the sink, John stepped out of the bathroom.

  The startled look on Lorrie Ann’s face when he’d asked had caused him to regret his impulse the minute the words left his mouth. Her hesitation and polite maybe didn’t do much for a man’s ego. He might have well said, “I’m asking you because I can’t ask anyone else.” That was smooth.

  “Celeste, you’re not helping!” Rachel’s frustrated voice shrieked, derailing John’s contemplation. With a sigh, John gave up all hope of a peaceful morning.

  He shook his head and forced his thoughts back to the moment at hand and away from his new neighbor. Walking into the living room, he grabbed a green Jolly Rancher from a handmade ceramic bowl and popped it in his mouth. He needed coffee and real food, but this would do for now.

  “Daddy, I can’t wear the yellow socks with this skirt!” Rachel struggled to get off the sofa.

  “I like it!” Celeste opened the refrigerator door.

  “That’s because you’re six and don’t care what people say about you.”

  The offended six-year-old stuck her tongue out.

  John set Rachel’s painkillers on the counter and turned to Celeste. “No breakfast until you’re dressed and hair brushed. Go up and get another pair of socks for your sister.”

  Standing in a purple shirt with yellow polka dots two sizes too big and red mud boots, she looked down with a puzzled expression. “I am dressed, Daddy.”

  A dramatic sigh came from the living room. “See what I mean, Daddy? And you want her to pick out my socks!”

  A knock on the door saved him from answering. Quickly turning to the entryway, he saw Lorrie Ann standing on the other side of the cut-glass door. He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. Man, he felt like a twelve-year-old with his first crush.

  “Mornin’, Lorrie Ann.” He stepped back so she could enter. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until this afternoon.”

  “Good morning. I come bearing gifts from Aunt Maggie’s kitchen.” She lifted the plate up.

  “Lorrie Ann! You brought...” Celeste sniffed the air. “Cinnamon rolls!”

  “And coffee for your dad.” She gave him a halfhearted smile. “Sorry about intruding, but Aunt Maggie worried it might be hard to get everyone ready this morning.”

  “Who would have thought one broken leg could knock a normal routine so out of whack.” He sighed and looked back over his shoulder. “They’re not finished dressing, and I still haven’t made breakfast.” He followed her to the kitchen. “Please, make yourself at home.” As he slid past, the clean smell of her hair distracted him for a moment.

  She looked up when he paused, and her brows rose.

  He cleared his dry throat and lowered his voice. “Did you think about Saturday?” He jerked back when he realized he had his nose almost pressed into her hair. He looked down and found his youngest daughter in a wide-eyed stare. “Celeste, go upstairs and get the socks.”

  Lorrie Ann handed him the thermos and unwrapped the warm rolls. The rich smell filled the air, and his mouth watered. He adored fresh cinnamon rolls.

  “I want the green ones.” Rachel twisted around to face the adults.

  John scowled. She wanted a green cinnamon roll?

  “Daddy, please tell me you’re not going to let her wear that outfit to school. I would be soooo mortified.” She flopped her head against the back of the sofa.

  John raised an eyebrow and paused in the process of pouring coffee into a mug. “Ah...you want the green socks.” He closed his eyes and took a slow sip of the dark drink. “Why are you so upset over Celeste’s clothes?”

  She glared at Lorrie Ann. “It’s her fault. She’s trying to look like you.”

  “Me?”

  “Rachel!” John’s shocked voice over his daughter’s rudeness joined Lorrie Ann’s.

  Celeste came to the railing. “I can’t find the green ones!”

  “They are in the closet in the basket on my dresser.” Rachel hit her casted leg. “I hate having a broken leg.”

  “Rachel, you owe Miss Lorrie Ann an apology, and I don’t see the problem with the yellow ones.” John placed a roll on a small plate and carried it over to her, sitting on the edge of the ottoman. “What about white? They go with everything.” He sighed as he watched her roll her eyes. When did she become a drama queen, and how did the color of her socks become so important?

  He noticed Lorrie Ann moving to the stairs and raised his brow in a silent question.

  With a flick of her hand, she pointed to the loft. “I’m going to retrieve the green socks and see what I can do to help Celeste’s outfit choice. You and Rachel eat your breakfast—Aunt Maggie’s orders.” Her voice pitched higher on the last three words as she reached the top.

  Rachel picked at her icing.

  “You know you shouldn’t let other people make you feel ashamed of your sister, and a broken leg is no excuse for being rude.”

  “I’m sorry.” Glancing up from her plate, she looked into his face. “She doesn’t get it, Daddy. They watch us, and if we do anything wrong they say it’s because we need a mother.”

  Lorrie Ann’s words from last night flew back to him.

  He patted her knee. “Sweetheart, I love you.” He paused, asking God for the right words. “You know people talk—that’s just part of human nature. For the most part, they just want to help, and unfortunately, everyone has an opinion on what that looks like. You can’t let them change you or your sister.” He smiled at her. “That’s my job.”

  “But you have a big job already, and Celeste doesn’t make it easier.”

  Pounding on the steps brought his attention up.

  “We found your green socks! And Miss Lorrie Ann pulled my outfit together!” She jumped down the stairs.

  “Well, what do you think, Rachel?” Celeste twirled in front of them. The necklace Lorrie Ann wore this morning now worked as a loose belt with the large silver loops wrapped twice around the small waist, making the shirt look like a dress. A black turtleneck and tights actually looked good, and John grinned at the zebra-striped boots. He remembered the argument he’d had with his father-in-law over buying the pricey boots for a six-year-old.

  Lorrie Ann pulled Celeste’s newly d
one braid to the front. “We even found yellow ribbons to match.”

  “She could braid your hair, too. I brought green ribbons for you to match your socks.” Celeste held out the sock and ribbons to her older sister.

  “No, thank you. I like doing the ponytails Daddy taught me to do. I fix Celeste’s hair and mine each morning.” She took the sock and started struggling to get it to her foot.

  “Rachel?” John sighed. Had she always been this defensive?

  After a few heartbeats, Rachel responded, “I’m sorry for earlier, Miss Lorrie Ann.”

  He stood and kissed Celeste on the forehead. “You look great.” Meeting Lorrie Ann’s gaze, he smiled at her, surprised by the rightness of having her here. “Thank you, Lorrie Ann.” He touched Rachel’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, why don’t you let Lorrie Ann braid your hair, so I can feed our monkey, okay? Then we will be off, and Miss Lorrie Ann can report back to the admiral that her mission was completed.”

  His oldest daughter nodded. She gave him a tentative smile as she pulled herself forward. Lorrie Ann moved behind Rachel and started weaving her hair.

  His heart tightened. The older Rachel got, the more she looked like her mom.

  What had he been thinking when he’d asked Lorrie Ann on a date? One look in his daughters’ eyes should remind him that his selfishness had cost them their mother. In the past five years he had created a balanced life for his girls. Why would he risk that for any woman, especially one who would be leaving in a few weeks? He snorted at the thought as he poured milk for Celeste.

  “What is it, Daddy?”

  “Oh, it seems your dad forgot he’s not nineteen anymore. Got things to do, places to go and girls to raise.” He winked at her and tugged her hair.

  “You must be getting old if you forgot all that.”

  The laughter burst from his gut. The other two females looked at him in surprise. He just smiled back.

  * * *

  John whistled as he stepped through the side door of the church leading to the offices in the back. Lorrie Ann kept invading his thoughts when he needed to focus on the message for Sunday.