Bonnie Winn - Lone Star Blessings

When Mr. Carruthers left to stroll toward his wife, Tucker sat down.

Kate looked at him curiously. “Sounds like you’re the prodigal son.”

He clenched his jaw, aware of his daughter’s close proximity. “Do you think you’ve been in town long enough to judge that?”

Kate had the kind of face that didn’t hide what she was thinking. And he saw curiosity turn to puzzled concern. “I just noticed a lot of people surprised to…” She glanced at Alyssa and apparently had a flash of good sense. “This is all new to me. Nice, but new.” Picking up a cup of punch, she averted her face.

Tucker felt the brush of her shoulder as she fidgeted. She put down the plastic cup, fiddled with her fork, then straightened out her paper napkin. “So, anyone ready for dessert?”

Marvin and Alyssa looked down at their nearly full plates.

Tucker studied Kate.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who wanted to bolt.

That afternoon, Marvin whistled as he sat in front of the large window in the living room. Since Seth had removed the barrier to the entry, he could maneuver easily without help. As he watched the day dwindle toward its end, couples strolled down the street, some hand in hand. Young parents pushed strollers and children shrieked as they let off the last remnants of energy.

Kate brought him a glass of iced tea. “I’ll have to remember to buy some more lemons.”

“This is one of my favorite things on Sunday.” He pointed out the window. “Reminds me of when I was a kid…when it wasn’t so frantic in Houston. It just got too big too fast.”

“Pace is slower here,” she agreed. “I keep forgetting I don’t have to rush somewhere every day and plan, so that I can avoid traffic and lines.”

“I had enough of both.” Marvin shook his head. “Didn’t like feeling I was always running, never catching up. Pace here suits me better.”

“Are you hungry? It’s getting close to dinner time.”

Marvin shrugged. “A little, maybe. That was a big lunch.”

Kate watched as an older couple strolled by. “Looks like they’ve been together forever.”

“The Hills? About fifty years.”

“Incredible. That’s what? Two-thirds of their lives?”

“Sounds about right. Katie, you haven’t even mentioned Derek.”

She’d dreaded this conversation. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Has he called since you’ve been here?”

“We’ve got lasagna and baked ham left. You choose. When all the good stuff’s gone, you’ll be stuck with my cooking, which you know is terrible. That or sandwiches.” She fluffed the pillows on the couch. “Then again, maybe I’ll just get take-out from the café so I don’t poison you.”

“Did you argue about coming here to take care of me?”

She sighed. “He wasn’t who I thought he was.”

“I assume that’s a figurative reference.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to see the real Derek.”

“This is because of me. Katie, I won’t let you ruin your life—”

“Dad, coming here just opened my eyes. And I’m glad. What if I’d stumbled into marriage, then found out? It hurts, but it’s better to know.”

He sighed. “Confession—ever since I moved here, I’ve hoped that someday you would, too. Now I’ve trapped you.”

“You can’t trap somebody who volunteers. Face it, you couldn’t have kept me away.”

“So much like your mother. Stubborn, kind, seeing the best in people.”

There were days when Kate missed her mother so badly it was as though she’d just barely died, instead of twenty-five years ago. Blinking away the tears, she looked at the floor. “So, lasagna or ham?”

“She’d be proud of you, Katie.”

“We can make sandwiches out of the ham, so let’s have lasagna. I do know how to warm up stuff in the microwave. But no promises about not burning it. I usually make TV dinners because they have the instructions right on the package.”

“Katie?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“Love you.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

Kate reached high with the feather duster, passing it over the top of the bureau in her father’s room. A second later she heard knocking. She glanced down at her jeans and mussed shirt. Fortunately, none of their visitors seemed to notice her perpetual state of messiness. Still, she smoothed her hair back as she reached the front door and opened it.

Alyssa Grey stood on the porch, looking somewhat shy.

“Hey! What a pleasant surprise. Come in.”

The girl looked at the duster still in Kate’s hand.

“Are you busy?”

Realizing she’d forgotten to ditch the duster, Kate stuck it behind her back. “You are a very welcome diversion. I don’t mind housework, but I like company better.”

“Is your dad okay, Miss Lambert?”

“Kate. And yes, he’s fine.” She noticed Alyssa had her backpack on. “Did you just get out of school?”

“Uh-huh. I passed your house on the way home, so…”

Kate sensed the girl was feeling uncertain. “I’m glad you have time to stop and visit. How about a snack?” She headed into the kitchen, Alyssa trailing behind. “We’ve got some fruit, um…cheese…yogurt…”

“I’m okay.”

Reaching into the fruit drawer, Kate pulled out two apples. “Want one?”

“Sure.”

They settled at the kitchen table, companionably munching their apples. “So you don’t live far?”

Alyssa pointed north. “About a block that way.”

“Great, we’re neighbors!” She reached for a paper napkin. “Did you let your parents know that you were stopping here?”

She shook her head. “It’s just my dad, and he’s at work.”

“Oh.” Kate cleared her throat. She had wondered on Sunday where the girl’s mother was. “Shouldn’t you still check in?”

“In a few minutes. Dad got me a cell phone after…Anyway, I’m not supposed to use it to talk to friends, just if I need him. So I call from home. But we got out an hour early—it’s Teacher Day or something.”

Kate wasn’t thrilled that this likeable girl belonged to the obstinate sheriff, but she knew how parents worried. “Surely he knows that.”

“He’s got a hard job and he forgets little stuff.”

Like when his daughter was due home? He shot down further in her estimation. Sure, divorce was difficult, but if he had primary custody, he needed to step it up. Not something she wanted to say to this child. “Okay, you have to be completely honest with me. Did I stink at teaching your class?”

Alyssa giggled. “Everybody likes you. Sasha’s worried you won’t let us have as many parties as Miss Laroy, but it’s cool that you lived in Houston and you’re an artist.”

“I restore paintings—so I’m a fixer, not an artist.” She leaned forward. “I haven’t taught a Sunday school class in a really long time. Think everyone will give me time to get my footing?”

“Sure. Miss Laroy moved away.”

Kate laughed aloud. The frankness of youth.

“I thought I heard somebody.” Marvin rolled into the room, then scrunched his brows in concentration. “Alyssa?”

The girl beamed, pleased that he remembered her name. “Uh-huh. How do you feel?”

“Still rolling.”

She giggled.

And Marvin grinned in return.

Kate could see that a dose of Alyssa would be very good for her father. “We’re having a snack. You hungry?”

He shook his head. “I’m still stuffed from lunch. Mrs. Ford makes a killer lasagna, but I overdid.”

“It’s about gone.” Kate sighed. “Then you’re in for my cooking, and it won’t be pretty.”

“I can cook,” Alyssa offered, shy again.

“That makes one of us.” Kate glanced at the nearly bare counters. “I wouldn’t mind if the neighbors started bringing over goodies again. We had almost every kind of cake and pie, and—”