“Did you plan that?” Avery said as she came up beside him.
Gabe was glad he could honestly say “No.”
“Well,” she reflected after a long pause and a large sigh, “I suppose we could manage a short tour as a way to say thanks for the swings.”
Gabe smiled and offered his hand to her as he had to the girls. “It’d be my pleasure.” He tried to convince himself it was an ordinary handshake.
It wasn’t. Her hands were soft and a memorable tawny color, so different from his own skin. The backs of her palms held the hint of olive coloring that tinted the twins’ cheeks. His calloused fingers took in the smooth texture of her skin, and he noticed the bare place on her other hand when she wrapped his hand in both of hers. The spot where her wedding ring should have been. All those details in the split second the gesture took.
Gabe was in many ways a detail-oriented man, but this was an entirely different “frozen in time” kind of detail that made his stomach twist and his breath catch.
Debbie broke the moment by tugging on Gabe’s hand. “Can we have a sandbox next?”
“Deborah!” Avery chided.
Gabe managed a shocked laugh. “The girl’s got spunk, I’ll give her that.”
“Apologize for that this instant,” Avery said in “you’re in trouble” tones, accompanied by a very demanding hand on Debbie’s shoulder.
Debbie stuffed her hands in her jumper pockets and looked down. “I’m sorry I asked for a sandbox.” Debbie did not sound very sorry. Instead of annoying Gabe, this made him like the spunky little girl all the more.
“No sandbox,” he said, keeping the humor out of his voice in order to match Avery’s disdain. “But I think the baby goats will make up for it.”
“We get to see the baby goats!” Debbie squealed. He’d owned pigs and not heard so much squealing as he had today. “Can we ride any ponies?”
“Enough!” Avery replied, her color high with embarrassment and her eyes pleading for forgiveness. “Go on back to the porch now with your sister.”
“I don’t know where she gets it,” Avery said, raising her hand to her forehead with an exasperated sigh.
He’d seen Avery stand up to Roz Sackett. Gabe had a crystal clear idea of where Debbie got her spunk.
Not that he was going to say. Every cowboy in Texas knew not to call the bull out for the size of his horns.
Or, in this case, a mama on the size of her spunk.
Chapter Six
Sunday morning, Avery sighed in relief. Between the four adults, they’d actually managed to get both girls ready on time to attend services at Haven Community Church. Back in Tennessee, she hadn’t seen the first ten minutes of a church service in months—they were always horribly late. But at least they were there.
Not that today had been smooth sailing. Dinah had spilled orange juice on her dress, necessitating a last-minute change, which sent Debbie into fits because Debbie always wanted to match her sister. One double dress change and a quick swap of hair bows later, Marlene slid into the front seat of Avery’s car while Jethro drove in the truck with Gabe.
“I imagine those men will have a thing or two to say about frilly dresses,” Marlene laughed.
“How do you do that?” Avery asked as she checked the girls’ seat belts and booster seats in the rearview mirror and turned the ignition.
“Do what?” Marlene asked, her words slightly garbled by the process of applying lipstick in the visor mirror. Avery wondered if she’d remembered to put on any makeup at all in the flurry of preparations.
“Laugh about it all.” Did her words sound as weary as they felt?
“Well, I’m not much for the other choice. Better to laugh at it all than wear a sour face all the time.” She turned to look at Avery. “A face as pretty as yours needs more smiles. I feel for how you’ve been slammed down in the middle of this with no warning. I sure can’t figure out what the good Lord is up to in all this.”
Avery shrugged. “Neither can I.”
“Mama, my bow came out,” called Dinah.
“Hang on to it and we’ll fix it when we get there,” Avery advised, giving her own hair a quick check in the mirror.
“You look just fine,” Marlene said with a wink, then cast her glance back over to the backseat. “Little girls in Sunday dresses. Is there any sweeter thing?”
“Quiet little girls in Sunday dresses?” Avery often felt as if the entire congregation of her church back home barely tolerated her noisy girls. No one ever came out and said anything, but that might be due to the fact that people rarely talked to her at all since Danny left. It had been his church, and had never quite become hers. When she returned, Avery promised herself to find the energy needed to look for another one.
Marlene waved off the comment. “Don’t you give a mind to that. We’re a family church, and families are noisy. I expect those two will trot off to children’s church and make loads of friends. My great-grandkids love to come to Haven because of how much fun the children’s activities and Sunday school are. Next year your girls will be old enough to go to Sunday school, and they’ll love that, I promise you.”
There it was again. Why was everyone in Haven so quick to assume Avery was here to stay? No matter how many times she pointed out the temporary nature of her visit, folks talked as if her permanent residency was a done deal. Avery knew they meant it in a welcoming way, but given her circumstances she couldn’t help but feel just the tiniest bit trapped.
“Have you met Pastor Andrew Walsh yet?”
“Only briefly,” Avery replied as she followed Gabe’s truck around a turn.
“He’s a good man. Good-looking and single, too, but not for much longer. Everyone knows Katie Ellis—she’s the boys ranch secretary, if you didn’t know—won his heart. Bless that man, poor Katie had to wait forever for him to catch on and finally ask her out. That preacher may be wise in the Lord, but he sure was slow on the uptake in the romance department.”
Marlene’s chuckle made Avery smile. Small towns were pretty much the same everywhere. It was a sure thing Haven hosted a crowd of old-hen matchmakers the same as where she’d come from in Tennessee. She hoped those old wagging tongues wouldn’t get any ideas about her—romance was definitely not on the table for her here. And not in Tennessee, either, until she and the girls were on more solid footing. The next man in Debbie’s and Dinah’s lives was going to stay and dote on them forever.
“Of course, love has had a good run in Haven lately. First there was Tanner and Macy—she has a nephew she’s raising who’s not much older than your girls.” Marlene began ticking couples off on her fingers. “Then Heath and Josie—oh, she just had her darling baby, Joy. Cutest little thing, that girl. After that it was—”
“There’s more?”
“Like I said, love has had a good run in Haven these days. Then came Heath’s buddy Flint and sweet Lana. Has Lana showed you that photo she found of your grandpa yet? If not, you ask her—you ought to have it. Let’s see, Nick and Darcy were next, and then I think it was Dr. Wyatt and Carolina. Carolina’s got a little boy a bit younger than your girls.”
Avery began to wonder if Pastor Andrew knew he ought to be ring shopping, given the town’s romantic track record. She tried not to look stunned when it appeared Marlene wasn’t yet done. “And...nope, that’s all of them. So far, that is. Five couples since October.”
“Maybe you ought to advertise,” Avery quipped. “Clearly, there’s something in the town water supply.”
Marlene laughed. “Well, maybe, but I credit our mystery matchmakers for some of it.”
“Mystery matchmakers?”
“Someone’s been nudging those couples together. Or trying to—there have been as many hits as there have been misses. Notes, dance invitations, why, even pies have shown up in the name of r
omance around here. Someone—or a group of someones—seems bent on making sure there are no lonely hearts in Haven, Texas. Jethro says this town’s a haven for the soul. I say it’s just stepping up as a haven for the heart, too.”
And a headquarters for crazy bequest schemes, Avery silently added. If she did give in to the town’s insistence that she stay, would she end up in the sights of those overactive matchmakers before all was said and done? Avery didn’t much care for that prospect, and chalked it up as another mark in the column of reasons she might be better off leaving.
She pulled her sedan into the parking space to the left of Gabe’s truck. Gabe hopped out and opened the door for Marlene, gentleman that he was. Had Danny ever done that for her? To avoid letting that thought sour in her brain, Avery popped out and opened the back door to begin unbuckling the girls.
“Girls, what happened?” Not only was Dinah’s bow missing, but both of Debbie’s shoes were also nowhere to be found.
“They itched,” Debbie offered, wiggling her toes under white tights.
“Shoes cannot itch,” Avery explained as she unbuckled the seat belt and began thrusting her hands under the passenger seat until her fingers landed on the shoes. “It was a five-minute ride, Dinah. How did you manage to get both off?”
“It wasn’t hard,” Dinah replied, sliding off the booster as if walking into church in stocking feet would be fun.
“Sit,” Avery commanded, working the patent leather straps through the buckles as quickly as she could. “I was really looking forward to walking into church on time, girls.”
“The bell hasn’t rung yet,” Marlene advised. “In my book, if the bell isn’t done ringing, you’re on time.”
“Is your church fun?” Debbie asked Marlene with as skeptical a look as Avery had ever seen on a four-year-old. Out of the corner of her eye, Avery saw an amused smile erupt on Gabe’s face before he could smother it.
“I like to think so,” Jethro said as if the question was perfectly natural. Avery loved that about Jethro—no matter what off-the-wall comment or question Dinah or Debbie dreamed up, Jethro spoke to them as if they were real, serious, worthwhile people. Give me some of that kind of patience, she prayed as she finished Dinah’s buckle. Slow me down enough to pay that kind of attention.
“Take a deep breath, we’re here,” Marlene whispered in Avery’s ear as if she’d heard the prayer. “God doesn’t much care how you show up, just that you show up.” With that, Marlene extended a hand to Dinah and walked toward the church as calm as could be.
Avery huffed a lock of hair off her forehead as she grabbed her handbag. “She’s right,” Gabe said. “Nothing too fancy for little ones inside. And when they scurry off to children’s church, you get some peace and quiet of your own.”
“I could use that,” she replied.
“Couldn’t we all?” he said with a grin as they started toward the door.
* * *
Gabe had never worked so hard to pay attention in church since he was five.
Normally, he liked church, welcomed the grounding it gave him for the often hectic week ahead. Pastor Andrew taught well, giving thoughtful and even challenging sermons, and what the choir often lacked in talent they made up for in enthusiasm.
This morning, it felt like God had hidden Himself behind a mountain of distractions Gabe was helpless to overcome. The girls were all squirms and whispers, dropping things and making noises. Marlene and Jethro flanked them on one side, with Avery and himself on the other, but even one body away the girls invaded his worship and concentration. It embarrassed him how he resented the intrusion—he shouldn’t fault the girls for being four any more than he could fault a cow for chewing cud. Still, it seemed as if every corner of his life had been invaded—at his invitation, no less—by “tiny pinkness.”
What are You up to, Lord? He prayed as the girls slid themselves off the pew and trotted forward for their children’s moment with Pastor Andrew. You know I’m out of my depth here. I need more calm and order in my life, not less. You’ve heaped enough on my plate without all this.
Gabe had never much paid attention to the children’s moment in services before, but today he found himself impressed with how Pastor Andrew boiled a gospel truth down into simple nuggets a little brain could grasp. He went out of his way to include Dinah and Debbie in the little knot of church regulars, talking to them and nodding at their answers to his questions. The girls smiled and nodded right back, even giving excited little waves and not-so-silently mouthed, “Bye, Mom” to Avery as they walked past her with the volunteer on their way to children’s church.
The church always felt a little more settled when the young ones left, but today Gabe felt as if his entire pew exhaled in relief as the girls departed. He felt Avery practically slump back in her seat, newly aware of the tension she must have felt. Had he truly realized the scrutiny she must feel? If he felt as if the whole town was watching him fail to turn up Theodore Linley, how must she feel with all of Haven’s boys ranch supporters hanging on for word of her decision to stay? I’ve thought of her in all the wrong ways, Lord, he confessed. I’ve treated her like an asset to be managed, someone with something I need. Now I see what she needs: compassion. Only I’m not so sure I’m the one who can provide it.
“Now you settle back and let the Spirit do It’s thing,” Marlene whispered to Avery as the organ started up for a hymn. “If anyone needs a few moments’ peace, hon, it’s you.”
Thank You for Marlene and Jethro, Gabe continued as he opened his hymnal. I don’t know what I’d ever do without them.
When Avery looked a little lost, Gabe handed her his hymnal already opened to the correct page and pulled another from the little slot in the pew. She looked up at him with kind eyes for the tiny gesture, a version of the look she’d given him over the swings. She hasn’t known much kindness, he thought. And don’t I know how that wears on a soul.
Her voice startled him. Avery had a sweet, clear singing voice. He wasn’t sure why that was such a surprise—lots of people had pleasant singing voices—except that he’d never heard her use it, even with the girls. He’d have thought someone with that lovely a voice would be singing all the time, especially to her children. Life had certainly stomped too much joy from that woman’s spirit. The dark circles that had lurked under her eyes that day back on the boardinghouse porch were only just beginning to leave her features.
As Gabe, Avery and the rest of the congregation finished the second verse, it struck him. Maybe this wasn’t all about preventing her from leaving town and forfeiting the bequest. Maybe it was also about taking that abandoned look from her eyes, about wiping that air of desperation away. He only knew what she was—Cyrus Culpepper’s granddaughter and one of the stipulations in his will. Maybe he ought to take the time to find out who she was—what she wanted in life, what obstacles she faced, how all that weight he saw pressing down her shoulders had come to be there.
And if that wasn’t a revelation worthy of serious pondering, he didn’t know what was.
Chapter Seven
The Lone Star Cowboy League Boys Ranch wasn’t everything Avery expected. It was what she expected in terms of appearance—wide fields surrounding a large single-story building with a wide porch, brand-new barn, several outbuildings and the other elements anyone would expect of a ranch property. It was the atmosphere of the place, the warm bustle and happy noise of so many people, that caught her up short.
Without realizing it, she’d pictured it as an institutionalized home for troubled kids. A stern, productive place. The assumption made no sense, given that the estate had until recently been the private home of her grandfather and given how warmly the townspeople talked of the organization. As she walked around the buildings and saw the faces of the boys and the staff, Avery realized it was her grandfather she saw in those stern and unforgiving terms, not the boys r
anch. This visit was jumbling up her emotions in ways she wasn’t fully prepared to handle.
“This is the learning center we’ve finally had room to create,” Gabe said as the girls ran toward a smaller building off the main house. “The littler ones get stories read to them here, and the bigger ones can check out books and get help with homework. It’s a favorite place of lots of the boys—after the kitchen and the barn.”
“Books can never compete with cookies,” offered a slightly paunchy middle-aged man as he exited the building with a stack of books and some papers.
“They have cookies here?” Debbie asked with obvious hope.
The man leaned down to meet her wide eyes. “The cook, Miss Marnie, makes some of the best around. And she doesn’t get too many chances to hand them out to sweet little girls.” He extended a hand to Avery. “Fletcher Snowden Phillips. You must be Avery. The real one, that is.”
Avery accepted the handshake. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to being referred to as “the real Avery.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Phillips.”
“Mama,” pleaded Dinah, tugging on Avery’s sleeve, “can we go see the kitchen right after we go see the goats?”
“I’d recommend we go visit Miss Marnie first, actually,” Gabe advised, meeting with shouts of approval from the girls. “The barn can be a messy place and Miss Marnie may have a few scraps or treats you can bring to feed the goats.”
Phillips fell into step with them as they turned toward the house. “You know, Miss Culpepper, I wasn’t always a big fan of the boys ranch. I’m ashamed to say I misunderstood the place and even fought against it. I do hope the same won’t be said of you, even if your grandpa didn’t quite handle things the way we’d all have liked.” He shifted his load to the other hand, stopping for a moment to gesture around the property. “This place deserves the chance to succeed. If there’s anything I can do to help you help us make that happen, I hope you’ll let me.” With a nod of farewell, he turned toward the parking lot.
The Rancher's Texas Twins Page 6
