Jaz appeared beyond the opening, and he turned his attention to starting the truck. As soon as she snapped her seatbelt in place, he backed out and drove the two blocks to the market.
“I’ll wait.” His throat felt tight.
“Thanks.”
She jumped out of the truck. He tried to stare straight ahead, but his traitorous eyes followed her. The thrumming of his pulse nearly deafened him.
His hands flexed on the steering wheel. His knuckles whitened, which reminded him of her hands on the bat at so many softball games. Once Drew had joined the Army, Bailey had become the cheering section at Jaz’s games.
He’d been there the evening she’d scored three home runs. Everyone had leapt to their feet, cheering as the three runs scored with her third homer. His pulse had hammered like a construction crew that night, too.
When he’d congratulated her after the game, her light eyes had fixed on him, and his heart had stopped. Then she’d smiled, squeezed his hand, and said, “Thanks for being Drew’s stand-in.”
Because that’s how she’d seen him—the weak kid her heroic brother had to rescue from bullies, and the guy who watched her games because of a promise to her brother. But who could watch her inspire a team of competitive girls to the state championship and not fall for her?
A squeal of hinges snapped him out of his reverie. Jaz climbed in, a plastic bag over one wrist. “There’s a picnic table in the church yard. How about eating there?”
Bailey nodded and started the engine. It wasn’t even a block up First to the church. Two cars were parked at the far end of the building closer to the office entrance. Of course, Pastor Bernie would be there.
Hopefully God wouldn’t strike Bailey down for using a table in the yard when he hadn’t darkened the door in months.
Once they were seated, Jaz pulled out a bag of carrots and some sort of dip. He opened the insulated lunch bag Tess had packed for him and grabbed one of the sandwiches. The roast beef from Sunday’s pot roast exploded with flavor on his tongue.
“Why Sweet Grove?”
Bailey swallowed the bite. “Family. Why not Sweet Grove?”
“It doesn’t feel like home without Drew.”
He choked down another bite of his sandwich, sensing the grief behind the words. “He was a true hero. I wasn’t surprised to hear he died in the line of duty.”
Jaz drank some tea from a bottle. She tilted her head in a way that drew his attention to the nape of her neck. Such a smooth expanse of hot cocoa. “Is that the rumor?”
“Your parents didn’t really say much about it. Nothing was in the papers. But I know Drew.”
She licked her lips and he almost missed her next words. “I’m trying to place you.”
Bailey chomped down on the sandwich so he wouldn’t say something stupid. Something like, “I’m glad you can’t. I’m not memorable.” Because being forgettable was better than being remembered as the weakling he was.
He polished off one sandwich and opened the second at the same time she popped the lid on a salad covered in grilled chicken.
“Do you play darts? Elise said there’s some sort of dart tournament next week.”
Bailey stopped chewing. His gaze swept toward her. She concentrated on stabbing lettuce with a plastic fork.
“Not since college.”
“Where’d you go to college?” She shoveled in a bite of salad and glanced up at him. The fork halted as their gazes collided.
Bailey’s mouth dried up. Those beautiful pale eyes in that dark face could render him senseless like a blow to the head. When she glanced back at her food, he forced himself to look at his sandwich and finish chewing the bite in his mouth. After he chased it with a swig of water, he cleared his throat.
“Colorado. An architectural design school.”
“Why Colorado?”
He pushed away the horror show called his early childhood that tried to awaken in his mind. College and working with a drafting firm had been good experiences. It wasn’t Colorado’s fault his grandmother didn’t want him.
They’re too much trouble. The words from the courtroom resounded in his brain.
Jaz touched his knuckles. He stared at the point of contact, noticing for the first time that he’d pulverized the half sandwich still wrapped in plastic. Warmth oozed along his arm.
“I didn’t mean to bring back painful memories.” Her lips quivered into a small smile, distracting him from the past.
He sucked a deep breath, staring at where their hands connected. “College was great, but my childhood wasn’t. Until Fritz and MaryAnn.” He tilted his chin and found her studying him. “I don’t know what will happen when Fritz passes.”
Her hand wrapped around his. “I hope you find a will.”
Bailey loosened his death grip on the sandwich and turned his palm into hers. Her gaze unlocked something in his chest. She really saw him. He stroked his thumb over hers and his stomach bucked.
After sharing a look that flayed his armored heart, Bailey licked his lips and leaned slightly toward her.
Jaz flinched away and started forking her salad again. “Were you good at darts?”
Bailey froze, realizing he’d been close to kissing her. It was crazy to even consider that. He took a deep breath, and the tangy scent of oranges overlapped the freshness of flowers and grass. “I was better at pool.”
Jaz asked him what billiard games he liked, and his spine relaxed. They ate lunch, conversing like two normal people without hangups and ghosts.
God, I don’t know what I did to deserve a break like this.
A breeze swept over him, and he heard his mother whisper, It’s called grace, and God gives it freely.
A bird swooped toward Jaz’s bowl of lettuce. She ducked and tossed a leaf on the other edge of the table. Her laugh when a second bird joined in, pecking at the greenery, sent a shudder of warmth spinning into his gut.
Maybe there would be life after Dad died.
4
After practice that night, Jaz jogged back to the library. Bailey waited beside his truck. Sweat glued the shirt to her back, and it jerked as she raised a hand to him. As promised, he’d borrowed a trailer from a friend. Together, they rolled her car’s front wheels in place and he secured them.
Jaz stared at the Subaru, a sort of anxious grief balling in her stomach. Tears burned behind her eyes.
She whirled and paced toward the passenger door of Bailey’s truck. Crying over a broken car? So what if it was her last connection to Drew. She should be more worried about having transportation for an interview in Austin next week.
Bailey pushed his ever-present hat higher on his head. “Ready?”
She gulped away the emotion and nodded. Their doors squeaked in chorus as they climbed into the truck.
“Thanks for giving me a ride and fixing the car.”
“Just being neighborly.”
She relaxed into the cloth-covered seat and glanced at him. This cowboy had a heart of gold.
The face of her most recent heartbreaker swam into her mind. She’d assumed every man in uniform would share her brother’s integrity. Boy, had she been proven wrong.
“There’s a scrimmage tomorrow.” She would be in the dugout giving the girls last-minute hitting tips and encouraging them. Maybe she’d coach first base a few innings. An old desire longed for a cheering squad. For coaching?
“I’ll have the field mowed and chalked.”
She pressed down the welling disappointment. “Elise was nagging about the dart tournament again.”
Bailey stopped at the intersection of Fourth Avenue and Orchard Way. He glanced toward her. When his brilliant eyes fixed on hers, her staccato heartbeat sent blood rushing toward her cheeks. How he could be thirty and single shocked her senseless.
Gals in Sweet Grove were blind or slow. Maybe both.
“Tess mentioned it, too.”
“There’ll be food.”
His warm chuckle rolled over her. An army of goosebump
s marched up her arms. “It’s for members of the Twenty and Single small group.”
Jaz arched an eyebrow. “What? You’re too old?”
After he turned onto Orchard, he shot her a smoldering look. Her heart plunged into the seat beneath her, taking her empty stomach with it. If only that look meant something.
She shook the thought away. After the brutal decapitation of her last relationship, she wasn’t looking for romance. Especially not in Sweet Grove.
“I’m not a member of the class.” Bailey’s masculine voice hammered its own tune along her backbone.
“Tess is. They’re encouraged to bring guests.” She slapped her thigh. “At least that’s how Elise convinced me to go.”
She touched his arm. The muscles bunched beneath her fingers, and flutters exploded inside her chest. “Turn here.”
He followed her directions, the movement of his arms dislodging her touch. Sadly. She wouldn’t mind another excuse to hold onto him.
Heat flushed her face. Time to think about something else.
He braked at the end of the short drive in front of the single-story house. He slammed the truck in park and hopped out, racing around the front of the truck before she could fathom his hurry.
The door beside her opened. Bailey stood there, chin ducked and hat shading half of his face. “Texas, where gentlemen live and breathe.” His lips twitched.
She slid to the ground, her sneakers landing inches from his grass-covered boots. She tilted her head up, nearly choking at the intensity of his gaze.
“Thanks for the ride.” Her voice squeaked worse than the hinges on the door. She cleared her throat. “The car—”
“I should be able to get the part tomorrow and replace it on Saturday.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “So it’ll be working by Monday?”
He nodded. His lips parted, as if he was going to say something. No sound came out.
She stared at his full mouth, and her toes tingled to press her upward. One small peck as a thank you would be appropriate.
Bailey ducked his head and strode to the truck rail, where he reached in the bed and grabbed her two bags. She blinked, having forgotten about them.
A breeze whispered across her burning face. When she took the bags, their hands brushed. Awareness chilled her, sending goosebumps marching up her arm.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” He tipped the brim of his hat.
Before she could fully debate it, Jaz pecked him on the lips.
Hot hands pressed into her lower back, and he returned the kiss with sizzle and swiftness. She gasped, and her heartbeat deafened her. Before she could enjoy the extended contact, he pulled back.
His eyes were darker than a stormy sky. “See you later.”
She gulped, nodding because her voice was MIA.
Replays of the kiss dogged her through dinner and monopolized her dreams.
* * *
Early Saturday morning, Poppet whined at Bailey. Once Bailey dragged himself upright, the dog trotted toward his father’s room. Fritz’s face was slack, colorless but at peace.
Tears choked Bailey. His fingers brushed the Bible beside his father’s hip. The Bible he insisted held all the answers Bailey needed.
What use was the Bible? It hadn’t kept his parents alive.
His father’s voice echoed in his mind. The cost of life is death. While God might heal some people and extend the lives of others, it was only a stopgap measure. Death won in the end.
Bailey stroked the Bible and dropped it on his dresser before heading to the kitchen. He brewed a cup of tea and carried it into Tess’s room.
Her blonde hair peeked over the sheets. He’d never understood how she could burrow so far beneath the covers, especially when it wasn’t the slightest bit cold.
He set the tea on her nightstand. The mattress sank as he sat at her back. Her silky hair smoothed beneath his touch. He wiggled her shoulder. She groaned.
“Tess, it’s Dad.”
She twisted toward him, eyes wide. Whatever she saw on his face brought a rainstorm of tears. She flung herself against his chest, arms squeezing around his neck. He patted her back and cupped her head. Before he could think, the crooning lullabies he used with the rescue animals poured from his lips.
Her shoulders shook, and her need made his own tears evaporate. He could be strong. A lifetime of practice wouldn’t fail him now.
When the outburst finished, she leaned back, fluffing a pillow to cushion her. She wiped her face and took the proffered tea. Bailey snagged a box of tissues from her dresser and exchanged it for the teacup.
“What now?”
“He’s already planned everything with the funeral home.”
Tess sighed. “We’re orphans again.”
The woefulness of her tone opened a pit beneath his stomach. They’d always been orphans. Even when the Traverses took them in and gave them a name, they hadn’t legally adopted them.
“We have each other.”
Her lips twisted. After she sipped the tea, she stared past him toward the door. “What do we do?”
“There’s a list, Tess.” His heart and stomach tangled. “I’ll take care of it.”
A few quiet minutes later, she nudged him with her legs. “I want to see him.”
Bailey nodded, squeezed her calf, and left the room. There were cows to look after.
But first, he called the funeral home.
By late that afternoon, his hair stood on end. He’d checked off everything on the list, going through the safe and the folders in his dad’s desk. There weren’t any legal documents.
The one thing he had found scalded his hand as he picked it up again. The curling script on the outside looked so innocuous.
His fingers trembled as he pulled the single sheet of paper out of the envelope.
Uncle Fritz,
So you’re dying. I suppose that means I’ll be inheriting that ranch. I have no desire to live in the middle of nowhere Texas, but I suppose the land will sell for a tidy sum.
Why not invite me up to see my inheritance before you pass?
Or maybe I’ll say my farewells to your lifeless body.
Your Niece,
Honey Campbell
The words etched themselves into his eyeballs. He closed his eyes, rubbing at the burning sensation.
Campbell. Dad’s sister’s name had been Campbell. The one he’d mentioned on Monday. When their parents passed, his sister had edged him out of the inheritance. Bailey never heard how it had happened, but he remembered one thing.
“She’s a gold-digging, heartless woman. And her daughter’s just like her,” Fritz would say.
The heartless gold-digger assumed she would inherit the ranch.
Tess pushed open the office door. Bailey flipped the letter facedown and stood.
She fell against his chest. They’d spent the day’s tears, but the feel of her against his chest reassured him. He wasn’t alone.
“Let’s go for a ride.” Her voice was muffled against him.
It was a perfect idea. There’d be no answers about Honey Campbell’s claim on a weekend.
“Okay. Let me straighten a few things.”
She peeked around him at the various piles on the large cherry desk. “Find anything?”
“Not yet.”
Her brow and lips pinched with worry. He smoothed a hand over her blonde ponytail, tugging the end.
“I will.”
She smiled.
Once she left, he returned to the desk and stuffed the letter in the envelope, folding it. After straightening the piles, leaving the copy of the life insurance policy he’d located in the safe on top, he headed to the room he’d been using.
The ugly letter got buried beneath his socks. He’d deal with it later.
It was nothing to worry Tess about.
But the knot in his stomach refused to loosen.
* * *
Monday morning couldn’t come soon enough. Bailey
rushed through chores and listened to Tess’s litany of cleaning tasks. When she mentioned their mother’s craft and sewing room, he straightened.
“Keep an eye out for any legal documents.”
Tess gaped at him. “Why would Mom have those?”
“I didn’t find anything about the adoption in dad’s study. Maybe she had those papers.”
Tess’s face fell. “The adoption never happened, Lee.”
He covered her hand with his. “But there could be papers. Which would be helpful if there are inheritance questions.”
“Why would there be inheritance questions?”
Bailey gulped. Her eyes had widened, and he read the panic there. Exactly what he’d been trying to avoid.
He forced what he hoped appeared as a nonchalant shrug. “Jaz mentioned something about the adoption.”
“Jaz.” A mischievous smile stretched across Tess’s face. “You like her.”
Bailey stood and took his coffee cup to the sink. “She’s only passing through, Tess.”
But that didn’t stop him from thinking about her. Would she be at the library if she didn’t have a car? Maybe he should stop by her house.
His mind flitted back to the brief kiss on Thursday night. She’d been saying thank you and he’d turned it into something else.
If he was lucky, she wouldn’t remember it. Like she hadn’t remembered who he was.
Less than an hour later, he breezed into the library. No one was at the circulation desk. He strode toward the bank of computers. His steps echoed in the patron-free library.
Before he reached her, Jaz turned in his direction. Her lips curled into a smile. His heart played leap frog with his stomach. Before her beauty distracted him, he dug in his back pocket, fingering the envelope.
She stood up. “I heard about your dad.”
Her arms suddenly wrapped around his waist. His hands went to her lower back automatically. The scent of summer and spices filled his senses.
Just as quickly, she stepped back. “I’m sorry.”
Love's Lingering Doubts (Love's Texas Homecoming Boo 1; First Street Church #9) Page 4
