скачать книгу бесплатно
“You helped put up the lights, Poppy?” Cheyenne moved a bit closer.
“Nope. I just pay to have the angels put up every year. But there are lots of Christmas festivities to come. We could get in on Singing in the Saddle in a few weeks.”
“Really, Nigel, don’t encourage her.” Hyacinth scoffed.
“What’s Singing in the Saddle?” Cheyenne, her face aglow from the lights surrounding them, ignored her grandmother.
“It’s a trail ride of sorts with caroling. People ride horses or wagons around Bandera.”
“But I don’t want to ride a horse.”
“How about a wagon?” Resa patted the hay bale where she sat. “You can ride in this very wagon.”
“Can we go, Daddy? Can we?”
“We’ll see.”
“It wouldn’t be Christmas caroling without you.” Nigel sent Colson a hopeful smile. “But just in case, we can sing now.” Nigel started “Silent Night” off, his deep rich baritone echoing through the crisp air.
As voices joined, Landry elbowed Resa. “So why is the cowboy still here?”
Resa whispered the explanation.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it’s no big deal.”
“And the little girl is his?”
“He was married. But his wife died two years ago.”
“Hmm.”
“There’s no ‘hmm.’”
“So why did you invite him on the hayride if you don’t like him?”
“I invited Cheyenne on the hayride.” She whispered the whole thing about Hyacinth demanding a visit.
“And you care about this child because?”
“I don’t know.” Resa shrugged. “She’s just a little girl. Who lost her mother. And now she’s had to move away from everything she’s ever known because of me. The least I can do is ease her discomfort with Christmas lights.”
“Hmm.”
“You already said that. It’s temporary. They’ll only be here until my parents get back. And then they’ll move back to Kingsville.”
So why did that thought make her feel sad and lonely?
Chapter Five (#uf97e750b-66b2-5735-a2a5-a71411503cfc)
Colson pulled into the lit church parking lot and parked.
“Do we have to go here, Daddy?” The insecure little voice from the back seat tugged at his insides.
“God wants us to gather for worship and fellowship.” And maybe there would be kids her age to make friends with and help with her transition.
“I know. But it’s big and scary.”
“Church isn’t scary. You may not know the people here, but church folks are usually nice. Grandpa Mac and Nette will be here.” He closed his eyes. “And Resa.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Okay.”
He got out, opened the back door and helped her down from her car seat, which she’d already unfastened. Hand in hand, they crossed the parking lot and slipped inside. Several people greeted them and he immediately felt welcomed, just as when he’d attended six years before. But none of the greeters had any children with them. And as each person spoke to them, Cheyenne withdrew more.
Resa was already here, flanked by Landry and Chase on one side, Annette and his dad on the other. She looked up when he took his seat beside Dad. Colson flashed her a smile. She waved as he settled Cheyenne in his lap. Thankfully, the pianist started up and the song director called out a page number.
The stained glass windows splashed multicolored prisms on the walls. Not much had changed. The hundred-year-old church was like a time capsule. If only it could comfort Cheyenne the way it did him.
Three songs later, all the kids and a few adults got up and headed for the back of the sanctuary. Except Cheyenne. Apparently they had classes on Wednesday night, but he knew she’d never go.
A kind-eyed lady stopped at their pew. “I’m Marilyn Whitlow.”
“I’m Colson Kincaid and this is Cheyenne.” Little arms wrapped around his neck.
“What a pretty name. You look just about the age to come to my class. We’ll read a story about Jesus, maybe do some coloring and sing some songs. Would you like to join us?”
Cheyenne buried her face in his chest.
“Maybe next time.”
“Of course.” Marilyn turned away.
“Is she gone?” The muffled question was warm against his heart.
“Yes. But she seemed really nice and you love to color. Wouldn’t you rather go have fun with kids than stay here with me?”
“Don’t make me go.”
“It’s okay. You can stay with me.” He rubbed her back.
“Can I sit in Resa’s lap?”
The breath went out of his lungs. “I’m not sure she’s up for that.” He sure wasn’t.
“Please.”
He leaned forward, looked around Dad and Annette.
Resa noticed him.
She wants to sit with you, he mouthed.
A smile took over her entire face and she nodded.
“She said yes.”
Cheyenne pulled away from him, taking a piece of his heart with her. She clambered down, over Dad’s and Annette’s feet, and Resa helped his child into her lap.
He didn’t breathe after that. And didn’t hear any of the lesson.
With Cheyenne so enamored with Resa, how would he resist her?
And more than that, how would he keep his secret?
* * *
Cheyenne’s slight weight got heavier as she drifted off. Resa could get way too attached. Especially since the shy little girl seemed drawn to her.
Deep down, she was glad Colson had come to Bible study this evening. She just wished he’d chosen another church. She wasn’t ready to forgive him.
She was stuck working with him until Christmas. Forced to count on him to keep her ranch running smoothly. But none of that trumped that he’d once broken her heart. And even though she understood his reasons now, she couldn’t allow herself to let her guard down around him. He wasn’t here to stay this time, either.
Colson. In her parents’ house. In her office. In her store. And now in her church. How had her life come to this?
Amens echoed around her and she raised her head. She hadn’t heard a word of the closing prayer. Or the study, for that matter. Why was he so...distracting?
“Let me take her.” He scooped Cheyenne out of her arms.
The brush of his fingers against her arm sent goose bumps over her.
Burden lifted, she stood and made her way to the aisle, as a hand clamped on her shoulder from behind.
“Resa.”
“Evening, Jed.” She turned and gave him a quick hug over the pew. “Remember to bring your wares soon. Open house is this weekend.”
“I appreciate you including me.”
“Are you kidding? Your stuff brings customers in.”
“Glad to hear it. Say, reckon you could come on over tonight? I’ve got two walking canes, three table lamps and half a dozen candlesticks. It would be easier on me if I didn’t have to load it all.”
“Of course. I didn’t even think about that.”
“Maybe the Kincaid boy could help,” Marilyn suggested. “Might get his little girl comfortable with me. Enough for her to come to my class next week.”
“I knew I married you for more than your beauty.” Jed winked at his wife.
“Colson,” Marilyn called as he neared the exit. “Could you help us out?”
“Sure.” He strolled toward them with Cheyenne still sleeping on his shoulder.
“Oh, I didn’t realize she was asleep. Never mind.” Marilyn stroked the little girl’s hair.
“I was just trying to wake her.” Colson’s narrowed gaze settled on Resa. “I don’t usually let her sleep through church. And if she naps this late, she won’t go to bed.”
And she was supposed to know that? “You remember Jed, don’t you? He probably visited the Bandera store back when you were training with your dad.”
“It’s been a while.” Colson clasped the hand Jed offered.
“I’ve got some carved items ready for delivery to Resa’s store.” Jed clapped him on the back. “We were wondering if you could follow us to the house and load up.”
“And I was hoping to get to know this little darling.” Marilyn smoothed her hand down the sleeping child’s back.
“I’d be happy to help.”
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. “Thank you, Colson. It’s settled then—you can follow Jed there.” And Resa would go straight home.
“But Jed has something he needs to show you.” Marilyn clasped her elbow.
“Now, Marilyn, I told you they’re not ready.”
“Oh, pooh.” Marilyn waved her husband’s protests aside with her hand. “I don’t know how they could get any more ready.”
“You’ve got something new?” Resa’s insides warmed. She’d known Jed since she was a kid. And had mourned with him when arthritis threatened his work.
“Wait till you see them.” Marilyn’s smile broadened. “He always second-guesses himself, but I’m trying to talk him into going on a bigger scale with these.”
“She don’t need to see. They’re not ready.”
“Please, Jed.” Resa’s voice blended with his wife’s.
“Aw, shucks.” He turned crimson. “I reckon. But if you don’t think they’re up to par, just say the word. Nothing amateur is going under the Rusticks name.”
“Oh, good.” Marilyn clapped her hands. “I’ve got a dessert I’ve been dying to thaw. That Mrs. Edwards sure can turn out a mean turtle pie.”
“I’m in.” Colson let out a low whistle.
“Y’all could ride together?” Jed suggested.
“No.” The protest ripped from Resa. “I mean—we’d just have to come back here and get my car. It’s easier if we both drive.”
“All righty then.”
