Jolene Navarro - Lone Star Holiday

She had returned to Clear Water, Texas, to reconnect with God and to refill her spiritual bank, not to get tangled up in another relationship. Having her mom’s defective gene for picking men, her best option would be to remain male free.

A welcoming smile eased across his face. Lines creased the corners of golden-brown eyes and ran down his well-formed cheeks. One lone dimple appeared on the left side. Her mouth went dry.

“Are you lost?”

His deep Texas drawl washed over her. Lorrie Ann shook her head and searched for words.

“No, but I’m sure that depends on who you ask.” A nervous laugh ran away from her lips. She looked at the ground. Ugh, let me count the ways to sound like an idiot. Raising her gaze, she flashed her best smile. In California it never failed her.

Instead, he glanced off into the pasture, at the cows. “Is that your car up ahead?”

She sighed. Apparently, Texas cowboys were a completely different breed from the men she had been working with in Los Angeles.

“Yeah, I ran out of gas.”

Bringing his gaze back to her, he looked puzzled. “Town is about eight miles that way.” His long fingers pointed in the opposite direction she faced.

“I know, but my phone is somewhere over here.” She waved toward the pasture, and her collection of bracelets jingled.

On cue, the phone rang somewhere on the other side of the barbed-wire fence. At least Brent was good for something. “Oh, it still works.” She tried to climb between two strands of wire, but a barb snagged her long silk shirt, and her sunglasses hit the ground. When she turned to free the blouse, the top wire caught her hat, causing her hair to fall forward. The thick waves covered her face, blinding her.

“Hold still.” The cowboy’s voice emitted assurance. Gently his hands freed the corner of her shirt and held the wires farther apart so she could easily step through.

When she stood on the other side, she pushed her hair back. She reached for her oversize shades and shoved them over her eyes. Ouch! She’d forgotten the bruise. Her skin throbbed with a dull ache.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He leaned over the fence, handing her the hat.

Lorrie Ann didn’t like the look she read in the cowboy’s eyes. At best, it was concern, at worst, pity. Her nails cut into her palms. She hated pity.

“Anyone I can call for you?”

“No, no. Really, as soon as I get my phone, I’m good.”

He turned that devastating smile back on her. “How your phone ended up in a cow pasture is bound to be an interesting story.” He held his hand out to her, the fence still between them. “I’m John Levi.”

The phone sounded off again. Forgetting his hand, she spun around to locate the device. In a tall clump of gold grass, it vibrated. “I found it!” She lifted it high.

He smiled. “Now we just need to get you some gas, and you’ll be on your way. Where’re you headed?”

“Can you believe my destination is Clear Water?”

Lorrie Ann smiled back at him, a genuine smile this time. It felt good. The past couple years anything real had been hard to find, especially any type of happiness or joy.

“Come on.” He chuckled. “Let’s get you back on this side of the fence before the herd gets too curious.” He stepped on the bottom wire and held the top one up, leaving a large opening.

“Thanks.” With one hand on her hat, she stepped through without a problem this time.

“I’ll drive you to your car. I have some gas in a can in the back. Not sure your boots could make it down the hill.” She had forgotten cowboys always stayed prepared for anything. He held out his arm, like a gentleman from an old movie.

Her fingers wrapped around his denim sleeve. Masculine strength seeped through the sturdy material, warming her skin. “Thank you for helping.” Her shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe I ran out of gas this close to arriving home.”

“Home? You’re a local?” A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. “I should know better than to judge by appearances or license plates.”

“Oh, I’m probably everything you thought. I’m sure if you ask anyone in town, they’ll give you all the gory details.”

“In order to ask them, I’d have to know your name.”

She looked up at him, assessing his expression. “Hmm...that’s true.” Fear of what they would say tightened her muscles. She had left town in a swirl of lies started by the homecoming queen.

He waited a moment with eyebrows lifted. He finally grinned and closed her door. The cowboy walked around to the driver’s side. Climbing into the cab, he continued to grin.

His eyes stayed focused ahead as he eased them back onto the road. “So what brings you back to Clear Water?”

“My aunt. Maggie Schultz.”

“You’re Maggie’s niece, Lorrie Ann Ortega? She didn’t say anything about you coming home.”

She shouldn’t be surprised he knew her. Her aunt volunteered on about every committee in the small town and had always helped anyone that needed something, including her. “She doesn’t know.”

“She’s going to be thrilled.”

Lorrie played with the rip in her shirt. He obviously didn’t know the whole story. “I’m not so sure about that. It’s been a long time.”

“She’s been waiting for you.” He flashed her a quick glance accompanied by a grin. “Trust me. She’ll be very excited to see you.”

“How do you know her?”

He gave a casual shrug and smiled. “We’re at the same church.”

The big truck pulled up behind her small BMW. “Go open your tank. I’ll get the gas.” With a quick motion, he jumped out of the cab and went to the bed of his truck.

Leaping down from the side step, Lorrie Ann made her way to the silver BMW. She glanced into her car and cringed. With the top tucked away on her convertible, he would see the mess she had made in her twenty-five-hour run from California—the candy wrappers, huge plastic cups and haphazard packing that littered the backseat.

Yeah, it pretty much represented her life with Brent in L.A., all pretty and shiny on the outside and chaos on the inside. Now with no gas, the expensive machine sat on the side of the road, useless.

She leaned inside and picked up the Bible. The handwritten note from Aunt Maggie stuck out, purple and tattered around the edges. She didn’t need to read the words as they were etched in her memory. Matthew 11:28, Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.

Those words had brought her back to Texas, to the closest place she had ever called home. She had been working so hard to prove herself, but somewhere along the way she had lost sight of the big picture.

“You have a note from Maggie.” He nodded toward her Bible. “Which verse did she send you? I have a full collection.”

Unaware he had approached, Lorrie Ann blinked to clear her thoughts. Did Aunt Maggie send these notes to everyone? Not sure how that made her feel, she laid the Bible back in the car. “She’s always looking for ways to help.”

He nodded. “She’s a prayer warrior. We’re blessed to have her.”

This all felt very surreal. In the world she just left, no one spoke of God and prayer, let alone Bible verses. And if you did, they’d only laugh and make some witty cut-down.

She pulled in a deep breath. “I need to be going. Thanks so much for your help.”

“I’ll follow you into town. The closest gas station is the mercantile. We can stop there and get you filled up then head out to Bill and Maggie’s farm.”

“Oh, no. You’ve done enough.”

“It’s on my way. I can’t look your uncle and aunt in the eye if I don’t make sure you’re delivered safe and sound.” He winked at her. “See you in town.” He stepped back and walked to his truck.