Lone Star Holiday

by Jolene Navarro

  She took a step back and closed her eyes for a moment. “You’re right. I’m way out of line. Sorry I bothered you.” She turned sharply to leave, acid burning in her throat. She was so stupid.

  “Lorrie Ann, wait, please.” John’s voice followed her.

  Before she got to the last pew, the tips of John’s fingers touched her lower arm. She stopped but kept her back to him.

  This man made her so weak. She didn’t know who she hated more—him or herself.

  “You have every right to speak the truth.” His grip became a bit firmer as he silently urged her back to him. “We all need the truth. I’ve been hiding my music for five years now. Today, I couldn’t keep it buried.”

  She focused on the tiny pattern weaved into the blue carpet under his boots. “I’m sorry I interrupted,” she whispered. “It’s not any of my business.”

  “I’ve played to crowds of thousands. Tears running down their faces, hands raised high as they sang the words. All that attention can be a bit intoxicating.” John dropped his hand and stepped back, but his gaze never left her.

  “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

  “The truth has been locked up with the music for too long.” He reached into his jacket and popped a Jolly Rancher into his mouth. “I didn’t see my girls unless Carol brought them to the youth building. Ironically, the music became a stumbling block in my relationship with God. It ruined my marriage.” He took a deep breath. “I ruined my marriage. I hurt Carol, who had given me nothing but love and support.”

  “John...” She had no clue what to say.

  Moving away from her, he sat on the nearest pew. “I was lost, but being wrapped in a Christian label, no one knew it...” He swallowed and bit down the raw emotion that boiled up in his brain. “Other than Carol.” He looked up to the cross. “When I saw her at the accident site, covered in the yellow sheet, I knew her death was my fault. My sin.”

  “Oh, John.” She stepped closer, wrapping her warm fingers around the coldness of his hand. “It was an accident. You weren’t even in the car. You know it’s not your fault, right?”

  He squeezed her hand. “In my head, yeah. But I also know I had pretended to be a man of God, while living for myself in complete and utter selfishness.” He turned her hand over, running the calloused pad of his thumb across her palm before letting go.

  He twisted the finger on his left hand, playing with a wedding ring that he no longer wore. “Carol knew and had called me out.”

  He looked back up and gave her a lopsided grin. “Like you just did. She was good at speaking the truth.”

  The sorrow in his eyes pierced her soul. “I didn’t have the right to tell any—”

  He shook his head, stopping her from finishing. “I’ve never told this to anyone. I’d missed our monthly date night. Again. So Carol left the girls with the babysitter and tracked me down in the music building.” He took a deep breath, and his jaw flexed. “There was no yelling or crying. She calmly informed me she’d prayed while waiting and decided to move back to Clear Water. When I got my priorities right, she’d be waiting for me. Then she left.” He sat up and ran his fingers through his mussed hair. “I went brain-dead.” He snorted and cut a look to her. “Know what my first thought was?”

  Lorrie Ann shook her head and bit her teeth. She didn’t want to hear any more. “I can’t imagine.” Her right hand reached out and took hold of his.

  “I panicked at how others would react. The negative image it would create for me.” He stood. “My wife was so hurt. She’d just left me, and all I cared about? How it would look to others.” He moved to the piano.

  Lorrie Ann followed him. Her cracked heart completely shattered.

  “I knew right then I hadn’t been living to God’s glory but my own. I rushed out to follow her, to tell her I’d been wrong. To fix the mess I’d made. But I came up to the accident.”

  Her heart seized. “Oh, no, John. Don’t. It’s not your fault. Do you really believe God punished you by killing Carol?”

  John stood before the stained-glass cross. His throat worked, trying to swallow. “No, but...” He walked back to the piano, running his hand along the top. “I blamed the music.” He gave her a sad grin that pulled at her heart. “I guess it’s my self-imposed punishment—no music and no love.”

  She moved to stand with him. “John, that’s crazy. You managed to cut music from your life, but love? You’re the most loving man I know. I’ve seen you with your girls, the people of this town, even the dragon ladies. The love you have for God is in everything you do.” She smiled at him, wishing he could see the hope he had given her. “You seem to have an endless amount of love.”

  He grunted. “Love is a loaded word. I do love my girls. I love the Lord, love my life here in this small country town.” He picked up a guitar and sat down on a stool. His fingers softly strummed the strings. “But a wife? I’ve destroyed one woman’s life because of my selfishness. My heart can’t risk it again. I can’t risk someone loving me like that again.”

  Between his stark words and lonely chords, sadness covered her like a humid, sticky fog. This man deserved to be loved by someone who would share his burdens. That wasn’t her. “What made you play today?”

  “In the hall, a friend ambushed me, wanting advice about his wife.” He paused. “No one knows Carol was leaving me. People talk about what a perfect couple we made.” He focused on the strings for a moment. “I don’t give marriage advice. It makes me feel a little hypocritical. I told him not to take love for granted.”

  “Not long ago you told me it is our imperfection that enables God to use us to help others.” She sat on the piano bench, careful not to touch him but wanting to be close.

  He shook his head, and a halfhearted grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “No fair. I turned to music when I lost my parents. Playing was my conversation with God. I could write about emotions and fears. They would pour through the instruments.”

  “The music I heard earlier moved me. I felt God.”

  “Actually, an old friend recently pointed out the selfishness of not sharing with my girls and the church.”

  “He’s right. Rachel has the most amazing voice. Do you sing?”

  He gave a slight nod, and she suspected his voice was as spectacular as his playing.

  She continued, “Have you seen Celeste? She’s already learned some basic chords just from watching Kenny on the piano. You have to share your talent with them, John.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He focused on his hands for a moment and once again changed the tempo of the song.

  She sat back and enjoyed the music, his music.

  He whispered low, “Thank you. Carol had no problem setting me straight either. It can be difficult in Cold Water. Everybody knew her from the time she was born. I didn’t want them to know how I’d failed her.”

  “You weren’t a bad husband, just a man, a very young one.” She felt a little jealous of Carol knowing this man’s love. How pathetic was that?

  He snorted. “Thanks for that vote of confidence. Why do I get the feeling that’s not a compliment?”

  “Hey!” She threw a wadded piece of paper at him. Her heart melted when he chuckled. She watched his fingers drift back to the strings. This man deserved to be loved with a whole heart. Not the tarnished, damaged one that beat in her chest.

  “You play?” Mrs. Miller’s voice suddenly boomed from the double doors, a fierce scowl puckering her face. The disapproving energy crushed the fragile mood.

  “Yes, ma’am,” John answered with a heavy sigh.

  Her cane thumped the floor with each step. “Why haven’t you led the worship music?” her voice snapped.

  “I was hired to preach.” He gave her a gentle smile.

  Lorrie Ann loved how he treated everyone with respect and tenderness, e
ven the dragons. She didn’t have the tolerance, another reason she didn’t belong with him.

  “Pish!” The old Dragon Queen gave a final stomp of her cane. “Pastor Levi, this is not your highfalutin big-city church. You have more than one job.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Miss Ortega just suggested the same thing. Great minds must think alike.” He dared to wink at her.

  Mrs. Miller’s frown went deeper into her wrinkles. “I heard a rumor. You need to know, I will remove my support if that Puente boy, with all the things on his face, is in the band.” She glared at John. “This is what happens when you let people like her run things.” Her nose went higher. “Their kind corrupts.”

  Lorrie Ann bit her lip and battled to keep the ire locked down. Not trusting herself to speak, she focused on John. He moved closer to the old lady.

  “Mrs. Miller, I appreciate your concern, but we do represent the body of Christ, and our doors are open to everyone.” John patted her arm and led her back to the foyer.

  Lorrie Ann collected herself and joined them. Please, Lord, give me the right thing to say. I need words from You and not my anger.

  “Please let me reassure you.” She used her best smile. “Derrick will not be playing with the band. I hope you attend. Please keep us in your prayers. I believe it will be a special night of worship.”

  “Humph...we’ll see.” She stood tall and glared at John for a while. “Young man, you need to stay focused and not become distracted by things that glitter.”

  “You’re not giving me dating advice, now, are you?”

  “Humph! Better men than you have been led down the wrong path because of a woman.”

  “And hearts have been touched because of a woman, Mrs. Miller.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe.” She cut her glare back to Lorrie Ann.

  Lorrie Ann watched as John escorted the Queen Dragon to her car. He did love unconditionally.

  With a sigh, she wondered what it would feel like to have someone love her that way.

  She shook her head, disgusted with herself. All her life, Aunt Maggie had loved her, but because of old hurts, she had pushed her away. Just like Uncle Billy and Yolanda. They hadn’t made her an outsider; she had done that to herself.

  John returned with a big smile on his face. She sighed. Man, did she love that smile.

  “Did I hear you lie to that poor woman?” he whispered.

  “Poor? Right. Anyway, I didn’t lie.” She dramatically laid her palm over her heart. “I promise he won’t be playing with the band.” She winked. “We have other plans for Derrick.”

  John laughed. “You are exactly what this town needed.”

  She smiled back. “God knew, I needed this town.”

  “Yeah, He’s good that way.”

  She sent a word of thanks to God. Life was good—better than she’d ever dreamed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lorrie’s life turned into a nightmare. In the morning, Melissa called from L.A. and informed her that due to the recent incidents they would be looking for a new manager. Apparently, some so-called friends had forwarded a couple gossip blogs about her and Brent’s little scandal.

  Oh, well, so went life in the entertainment business. She had already received some messages from other groups interested in her but hadn’t returned any of the calls or emails just yet. What surprised her most? She didn’t really care enough about it to be upset.

  All her energy was focused on the current disaster heading straight at her. The locals liked to call it the One Hundredth Annual Christmas Pageant.

  She now referred to it as her pending nightmare.

  With coffee in hand, she looked over her list. She heard a truck pull into the driveway but didn’t bother looking up. Uncle Billy must have come in early for lunch.

  It surprised her to see John’s boots stopping in front of her. Putting her laptop and coffee on the little table next to the rocking chair, Lorrie Ann stood. “Is everything all right?”

  John nodded, his face grim. “I need your help.”

  * * *

  “Sure, what is it? The girls?”

  “The girls are fine.” His throat locked up. This had been a mistake. He couldn’t do this.

  He glanced away from her, not really seeing the trees and birds past the patio but instead...all the time he had spent in the studio, away from his wife and family.

  He needed to do this. God, give me the strength to turn it all over to You. “I need help with something.” He turned back to Lorrie Ann. She stood with a concerned expression on her face. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she had no makeup on. She really had no idea how beautiful she looked without all the extras.

  Sighing, he forced himself to focus on the reason he’d come to her. “Do you have some free time now? If not I can come back later.”

  “Oh, no, it’s fine. I can help you now.”

  He found he couldn’t talk, so he settled for nodding and heading back to his truck. Her steps quickly followed behind him. Holding the passenger door open, he waited for her to settle in before closing the door and getting into the driver’s side. The journey began.

  After a few minutes of engine-rumbling silence, she turned to him. “You should know I’m not in the habit of jumping into a car without knowing where I’m going.” Silence sat between them. “Any hint as to where you’re taking me?”

  “I have to get something, and I don’t think I can do it alone.” His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel.

  She sat silently again, waiting as they continued the drive. He finally veered through the big gates of his father-in-law’s ranch. Taking the winding road past the main house, John pulled up to one of the bunkhouses in the back.

  More silence as they sat there. He ran his hands over the worn steering wheel, feeling the cracks. Fear and guilt choked him. Okay, God, I know those feelings aren’t from You.

  Lorrie Ann reached across the bench seat and touched his arm. “John, you’re starting to make me nervous. Why are we here? What do you need me to do?”

  She trusted him, and he knew that didn’t come easy for her. He was suffused with more guilt as he thought about her mother. He couldn’t even think of any type of relationship with her while that hung over them.

  Taking the keys out of the ignition, John separated one of them and handed it to her. “I need you to unlock the door for me.”

  “Okay. Can you tell me why?”

  He didn’t look at her, shaking his head as he climbed out and walked toward the porch. Pausing at the bottom step, he rested his hand on the rough railing. It was past time to unlock the door. Once the decision was made he thought it would have been easier. Did it make him weak that he needed her here, to get him over the threshold?

  Lorrie Ann walked past, pausing before going up the steps. She looked up at him. “Are you sure everything’s all right?”

  He nodded, not even bothering to try to speak. His heart pounded against his chest, and his hands started to shake a bit. It had been over four years since he’d taken the walk down these steps.

  Lorrie Ann stood at the door, and after a few seconds of wrestling with the lock, she pushed it open. Turning back to him, she waited.

  “Thank you.” His voice croaked, raw with emotion. Easing through the door, he focused on Lorrie Ann’s presence.

  Musical equipment covered the wood floor, carefully boxed and stacked against the bare walls. He watched her walk through the dust particles that floated in the beams of sunlight.

  Following her, he brushed calloused fingertips over the amps, drums and boxed-up soundboards. John tried to swallow, but his throat didn’t seem to work.

  “You have enough equipment to start a band.” She pivoted around.

  John couldn’t speak. This was the right thi
ng, and he was glad they were doing it together. With a sigh, he picked up one of the smaller boxes and handed it to Lorrie Ann.

  Clearing his throat, he managed to get some words out. “Thanks for unlocking the door. I didn’t think I could do it by myself. I’m taking all this stuff to the church.”

  She nodded and followed him. In silence they loaded one box after another. He stopped after the fourth trip. Seeing each box placed in the bed of his truck, he felt the tension begin to ease. Now for the big one. “I’ll get the rest of these. Would you start pulling the instruments from the room over there?”

  “Sure.” She smiled at him before heading to the other door, not asking a single question.

  While taking another load to the truck, he heard Lorrie Ann gasp.

  John found himself smiling. He figured she’d appreciate what she found. As he crossed the room, his footsteps echoed off the walls.

  At the open door, he saw her holding a black lid, the hard case containing one of his many guitars. Her eyes wide, she met his gaze. “Is this a 1958 Les Paul?”

  He moved closer to her. “Yeah. I should take that one to the house.”

  She just nodded before heading to the quilt-covered grand piano. Lorrie Ann looked back at him. “Is this a Steinway?”

  He grinned. “The one in the back is a newer Steinway.” He joined her, lifting the custom-quilted cover off the baby grand. He played a few keys. “This is a 1970 Baldwin. It was a gift. It needs to be tuned. I’ll probably get George to help me move them to the church. When the youth building’s finished, I’ll take them all over there.”

  He closed his eyes and listened to the sweet notes. A lightness settled across his shoulders. A weight he’d carried for so long he hadn’t even noticed it, dissipated.

  “Oh, John, this baby grand would be perfect in the corner of your new living room. I can see it right next to the office.”

  The vision flashed across his mind’s eye: his girls sitting side by side, on a bench, playing music. “I always kept my music at the church. I didn’t want the music to interfere with family time.”

  “So you spent all your time at the church.” Lorrie paused. “Instead of isolating that part of you, maybe the music should become a part of your family.”