Lonestar Homecoming Read online

  “Are you afraid of something, Gracie?You want me to answer it?”

  She wet her lips. “It’s better to ignore it.” Her voice quavered.

  “I believe in meeting a challenge head-on.”

  “Sometimes avoidance is better.”

  “That just lets the problem escalate. Nip it in the bud.”

  The cell phone stopped. She began to roll the rug up. “This can’t be nipped.”

  “So why did you run from your wedding? You never said.” Her head was down, and he couldn’t see her face. “Gracie? You can talk to me. I’d like to help if you’re in any trouble.”

  She rose and went to the other corner of the attic. “There are some lamps I’d like to use over here.”

  He followed her, stopping her flight with his hand on her arm. “I think we need to talk about this.”

  “I don’t,” she said, her voice low. “I want it to go away.” She still hadn’t looked up at him.

  “Have you ever known a problem to just vanish on its own?” he asked.Was she shaking? When she clamped her lips together and turned away, he realized it would take more than a casual question to get her to open up.

  GRACIE RUSHED DOWN THE STEPS TO GET AWAY FROM MICHAEL’S QUESTIONS. She gasped when she saw the spill of paint on the wooden floor in Jordan’s bedroom. “Let me grab a wet towel.”

  “Don’t move, Evan,” Michael ordered his son, who stood in the middle of the puddle. “Who did this?”

  Gracie rushed down the steps and grabbed a roll of paper towels, then ran back upstairs. Michael was still questioning the children, and all three were in tears when she stepped into the bedroom. She knelt and began to mop up the liquid.

  “If no one confesses, you’ll all have to take the punishment,” Michael said in full military tribunal mode.

  Gracie gritted her teeth and kept on mopping. Challenging him in front of the children would be the wrong thing to do. “Raise your foot, Evan,” she said quietly. When the child lifted his sneaker, she wiped it clean. “Go wash your hands now.” The boy shot a fear-filled glance at his father, then bolted for the door. “You girls get washed up too.We’ll discuss this in a few minutes.”

  As soon as the girls were out the door, Michael folded his arms over his chest. “They needed to admit who did it.”

  Gracie sat back on her haunches. “It was clearly an accident, Michael. None of them did it on purpose. Punishment should be given for defiance, not for spilling something.” He blinked, and his mouth sagged. He said nothing, but she could see the wheels turning in his head.

  “My dad sent me to my room whenever I spilled my milk,” he said, frowning.

  “Children who are shamed for things they can’t control grow up resentful and uncertain,” she said. “If you’d told them not to lift the can and they did it anyway, then spilled it, it would be a different story.”

  “Maybe they did.”

  She shook her head. “The can was in the same place. One of them accidentally kicked it over. It wasn’t deliberate.”

  “I don’t really get it,” he said. “They should’ve been more careful.”

  “They’re children. Children make mistakes.Would you want to be punished for a mistake?”

  “No,” he admitted. “But I think we should own up to it when we make a mistake and not try to hide it.”

  “I see what you’re saying. A good compromise would be to tell them no one will be punished, but you want to know what happened.”

  His expression softened. “You’re good for me, Gracie. And for them.You can tell I know more about soldiering than I do about raising kids.”

  Warmth spread through her veins, and she couldn’t look away from his gaze. Had she ever felt such an instant connection to a man? Even the colors of his voice made her think of safety. And family. She remembered her father’s military bearing. He’d been in the service when he and her mother met and had never lost the posture. Maybe that was why she was so drawn to Michael.

  Glancing around the room, she realized Jordan’s bedroom was the exact shade of the room where Gracie grew up. And the gray-green of the living room matched her father’s den at home.There was danger in trying to re-create a lost life, but staring into Michael’s blue eyes, she wished she could.

  5

  ACTIVITY BUZZED AROUND MICHAEL. PRINTERS HUMMED, AND OTHER library patrons talked in low voices. The kids were at story hour, but he’d promised them a canoe ride and picnic afterward. After two days of painting, he was ready for some R & R.

  He only had a few minutes before Gracie returned and he collected the kids. She was out getting the food together. She’d been different toward him after their talk in the attic yesterday, and he meant to find out why. He tuned out the dim babble and launched a Web browser. He typed in “Gracie Lister wedding” and hit enter.The first link was to a newspaper in San Diego. Gracie’s face smiled at Michael from the computer screen. He studied the face of the man next to her. The engagement announcement identified him as Cid Ortega. A Border Patrol agent. Michael raised his brows.

  He pulled out his phone, then dropped it back into his pocket. It wasn’t his place to find the guy’s number and call him. Gracie had her reasons for running. A man might be a saint at his job and a devil to his family. Michael had seen it plenty of times. Her personal life was none of his business.

  A movement beside him made him look up. “I’ve got our lunch ready.”

  He quickly closed the browser and prayed she hadn’t seen what he was looking up. “Ready to go?” When he leaped to his feet, he nearly knocked over his chair.

  She fell into step beside him. “I got sub sandwiches, chips, fruit, and juice. And pie.”

  “Sounds like a feast.”

  “What’s our plan?”

  “We’ll head to the river and put in at the Santa Elena trailhead, then paddle to Fern Canyon and have our picnic there. I thought the kids would enjoy looking for rocks. Maybe Jordan can find some insects.” He pretended not to see Gracie shudder. At least there was no suspicion in her face.The angle must have been wrong for her to see the screen.

  He collected the kids and ushered them out to the truck.A trailer bearing the canoe was hitched behind it. Driving along the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive, he stole an occasional glimpse of Gracie’s rapt face. The road wound through switchbacks, then descended toward the Rio Grande. The towering cliff walls left him speechless every time he saw them.

  When they reached the river, he parked.The kids piled out of the back and ran toward the water. “Wait for us,” he called. “And watch where you step. There might be rattlers. And don’t get in the water yet,” he called sternly.

  Jordan’s voice floated back to him, then the kids turned and stood where they were. “We’re not babies, Dad.”

  “We’ll only be a minute.” He began to loosen the restraints on the canoe. “You want to help me with this?” he asked Gracie. He lifted the expedition canoe overhead, his hands on either side.

  Gracie did the same, but she stumbled as she helped him carry it to the water. The kids ran just ahead of them. “Stop right there,” he called when they neared the water.The kids groaned but waited until he and Gracie reached the river.

  He stared at the placid surface. “Let’s flip it into the river. On the count of three.” He counted it off, and they heaved the canoe into the water. It bobbed in the gentle current. “I’m going to need your help maneuvering the canoe. The kids are too young to help.” He noticed her wince. “Are you limping?”

  “I had a rock in my flip-flop.” She stood back from the shore the minute they tipped the boat into the river. “It looks deep.”

  He studied her averted face. Her cheeks had lost their color. “I think I hear fear in your voice.You’re afraid of drowning?”

  “No, but I’m worried about the kids,” she said, never taking her eyes off of them.

  “You ever go canoeing?”

  “No.”A flush colored her pale skin. “It looks easy to tip.”


  “The water is low right now. It’s not more than chest high in any spot we’ll go through.This is a good place for them to learn to canoe.”

  Her gaze went to the children. “They’re awfully young.”

  “I’ll teach them all about it. It’s not hard.”

  Her smile was forced. “I hope you have life jackets.”

  “Of course.They’re in the back of the truck.”

  “I’ll get them.” She rushed back to the truck and returned a few moments later with the cooler and a cloth bag, which she held by the drawstring. She set down the cooler and called the kids to her, then began to smear sunscreen on them.

  When all three children were greasy, she stood and approached him. “You’re next,” she said.

  “I don’t like to be greasy. Besides, I’ve been in Iraq. I don’t need sunscreen.”

  “Yes, you do.” She squeezed a generous amount into her hand and slapped it on the skin of his upper back exposed by his tank top. “You’re not even tanned here.”

  The touch of her hand on his overheated back was cool, but a jolt he couldn’t explain went through him. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had touched him, even impersonally. All his objections left his tongue, and he stood mutely as she applied the lotion.

  “Now me,” she said. She handed him the lotion and turned her back to him.

  He stared at the bottle, then at the smooth skin on the exposed portion of her back. He poured a liberal amount in his palm and rubbed his hands together, then spread it across the top of her back and shoulders.The warmth of her skin heated his palms, and the scent of vanilla wafted up from her smooth back. He nearly dropped the bottle in his haste to hand it back to her and step away.

  “Thanks.” She spread more over her legs, arms, and chest.

  He found it nearly impossible not to watch. “Let’s go,” he said.

  The kids squealed and dashed through the shallow water to the canoe. “Wait for me,” he called. “You’ll tip it. Life jackets.”

  He grabbed up the life jackets and paddles. Jordan and Hope had claimed the middle seat. Evan was on the seat in the bow. Michael sloshed through the water in his tennis shoes.The water was warmer than he’d expected. He cinched the kids into their gear, then directed Evan and Hope onto the floor to balance the weight.

  “On the way back, you can sit on the seat,” he promised Hope.He motioned to Gracie, who stood on the bank. She waded out to meet him. “Here’s your life vest,” he said, helping her slip it on.

  She eyed the swaying boat. “How do I get in without tipping it?”

  He led her to the stern. “I’ll help you.” He steadied the canoe with one hand and assisted her into her seat with the other.The kids shrieked with excitement when the canoe rocked as she awkwardly clambered onto the seat. “This will be the easiest place for you to ride.All I need you to do is use your paddle as a rudder. I’ll do the paddling, and when I say left or right, that’s the direction I want you to steer us.” He showed her how to drag her paddle in the water to make the boat turn. “We’ll practice.”

  She glanced at the children. “What if I make us tip over?”

  “You won’t. And even if we tip, all we have to do is stand up. The water won’t be over our heads.” He found he was relishing a day spent in her company.

  EVERY TIME THE CANOE ROCKED, GRACIE WAS SURE THEY’D END UP IN THE water, but Michael handled the canoe with expertise.The kids sat quietly and watched the towering walls of Santa Elena Canyon glide by. The pink, blue-gray, and tan walls stretched from the river to the heavens. It was a place one could almost hear the whispers of God.

  Gracie shook off the thought. Over five years ago, she’d come to grips with the realization that God was through with her, so why was she dwelling on him again? The problem was this solitude. She missed the hustle and bustle of the city and the demands of her job to keep her regrets at bay.

  Hope leaned her head against Gracie’s knee. “I have to potty,” she whispered.

  Jordan turned around to look, and the canoe rocked. “Me too.”

  “Try to sit still, girls.” Gracie grabbed at her daughter when the boat rocked again. “How much farther?” she called to Michael.

  “Almost there. Just around the bend.” He bent to paddle faster.

  A few minutes later, he called for her to turn in to the tributary. The limestone pebbles covering the bed of the river shimmered in the sunlight. Ferns grew along the boulders. “Here we are.Time for lunch and a swim.” He leaped from the canoe and steadied it. “All ashore.”

  “Me first!” Jordan stood and the canoe nearly capsized.

  “Steady,” Michael warned. He grabbed his daughter around the waist and lifted her from the vessel, then did the same to the other children. “Your turn,” he said to Gracie.

  Gracie was sure she’d tip the boat and make a fool of herself. Their lunch would end up soaked and it would be her fault.The hard bench bit into the backs of her thighs, and she gripped the sides of the canoe so tightly, she couldn’t feel her fingers anymore. “I’ll capsize it.”

  He swished through the water and leaned in close. “I’ll lift you out.”

  At least he wasn’t mocking her. His blue eyes held a confident smile. The canoe rocked a bit in the current, and she wanted out of the boat in the worst way. “Don’t drop me.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it.” His grave gaze held hers. He held out his hands. “Come on, honey.There’s nothing to it. And if we tip the boat, it’s no big deal.”

  Hearing an endearment like that on his lips touched her in a way she couldn’t explain. She knew he didn’t mean anything by it, but a warm sensation spread from her chest. The boat rocked violently when she stood, but he scooped her from the canoe and carried her to the shore. Not even her feet got wet.

  He set her down on the rocks. “Better now?”

  “Thank you.” She watched him beach the boat. Once her pulse slowed, she went to help him. “I’ll take the bag,” she said. It held swimsuits, dry clothes in a plastic bag, suntan lotion, and first-aid supplies.

  “Hey, Daddy, there’s a pool,” Evan called.

  Small rocks slid away beneath Gracie's flip-flops as she followed Michael up a trail to the pool at the base of the cliffs. She led the children to a discreet place to potty, then used the small shovel she brought to cover the area. She helped the children change into their suits, then stretched herself out on a rock while they splashed in the shallow pool.

  She glanced up to find Michael’s blue eyes focused on her. “I feel like a lizard in the sun,” she told him.

  “Prettiest lizard I ever saw,” he said, smiling. “You’re doing a great job with the kids, Gracie.With the household. Everything runs like a jackrabbit across the desert. Finding you at the depot is the best thing that ever happened to me and the kids.”

  Warmth spread up her neck. Hopefully he’d think the heat on her face was from the sun. “It’s been good for me and Hope too.We’d be sleeping on a park bench if not for you, Michael. I can never repay you for what you’ve done for us.”

  “It’s a win-win situation,” he said, grinning. “I’m going to change into my trunks and join the kids.” He grabbed his suit from the bag and disappeared into the designated dressing area.

  Jordan came dripping out of the pond. She flung herself down beside Gracie, then flopped onto her back and threw her left arm over her eyes. “I want to go home,” she said, her voice breaking on a sob.

  Gracie rubbed the little girl’s arm. “I thought you were having fun, honey,” she said. “Are you hungry? We can eat anytime.”

  Jordan shook her head. “The last time we were here,Mommy was with us. She used goggles and tickled my legs underwater. She braided my hair with ferns. I miss her.”Tears leaked from under her arm and rolled down her cheek.

  Gracie scooted up beside Jordan so she could cuddle the little girl, spoon-fashion. “I’m sorry, Jordan. I know your mommy wishes she were here. She didn’t want to leave you.”
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  “Yes, she did,” Jordan said in a desolate voice. “She wanted to go to the movies with Daniel. She wouldn’t let me go with her, and I cried. She cried too.Maybe she didn’t see the truck coming. It was my fault.” She rolled away from Gracie and began to sob.

  Gracie hugged the little girl’s back tight against her chest and kissed the wet cheeks. “It’s okay to cry, honey,” she whispered. “I know it hurts to lose your mommy.” Her throat swelled and memories slammed into her.Visions of her own mother lying in a pool of blood. “It’s not your fault though, Jordan.”

  Gracie wished she could say the same about her own mother’s death.

  6

  MOONLIGHT BRIGHT ENOUGH TO CAST SHADOWS STREAMED THROUGH Gracie’s window. Every muscle ached, and she stretched her legs out to enjoy the cool touch of the cotton. Downstairs, the TV rumbled. How could Michael stay awake after a day of canoeing? After the weekend he would start work. She’d be on her own here. She was going to miss him. Getting close to him so fast was a mistake she recognized but was unable to abort.

  She should be sleepy, but the day had brought back too many memories.Maybe she should read. She flipped on the light and grabbed the novel on her bed table. She flipped to the dog-eared page, but before she read the first sentence, her cell phone jangled beside her. Fumbling to turn it off before the noise woke the kids, she realized it was a multimedia text message, not a call, from a number she didn’t recognize.

  She flipped it open and called up the message.A picture filled the screen. It was of her and Hope at the park last summer. They both wore happy grins. The message attached to it read, “Come home, Gracie. I miss you so much.We belong together.”

  She deleted it. Though maybe she owed Cid an explanation, his calls gave her the creeps. Her inability to read motives had nearly led her to a mistake that would have impacted Hope in terrible ways. Her daughter was all that mattered.

  A rap sounded on her door. “Come in,” she called, dropping the phone onto the bed.