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“You know I don’t have any siblings, so Dad and I have always been close…I don’t want that to ever change.”
“In my book, you made the right decision. And, honestly, I try not to put my nose in anyone’s business, but maybe Marvin’s break was a lucky one for you. It’s not always easy to learn what a person’s all about before you marry.”
“But you and Seth…”
Emma grinned. “I’m the luckiest woman on the planet. Our marriage gets better every day. Just when I think it couldn’t possibly improve even a fraction, it does.”
“Like I’ve said before, you guys are a living Norman Rockwell portrait.”
“I believe you’re a true romantic, Kate Lambert. I keep hearing we’re a dying breed.”
“Probably for good reason. Talk about embarrassing, I planned to marry the man and never even thought to ask about family.”
Emma squeezed her arm. “When we love someone, we excuse a lot of things we wouldn’t otherwise.”
“How’d you get to be so wise?”
A shadow flickered in Emma’s eyes. “Not wise, observant.”
“Oh, Emma!” Kate was stricken. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up—”
“It’s okay. Really. They’re always in my heart, too. I’ve been so blessed. Not everyone gets a second chance…a second family.”
Incredibly grateful that Emma was her first friend in Rosewood, Kate stayed by her side as they arrived at the general assembly. The opening prayer, announcements and one hymn passed too quickly.
Emma walked with her to the girls’ classroom, then gave her a discreet thumbs up. Even more nervous, Kate gingerly stepped inside and took a chair. She watched the girls enter, bidding them hello. They all looked curious. Rosewood was a small town—one where almost everyone knew each other. And she stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb.
Some of her uneasiness disappeared as she recognized the sheriff’s daughter. When all the chairs were filled, Kate addressed the small group. “Hi. My name’s Kate Lambert. I’m going to be in Rosewood for a while, taking care of my father. And I’ll be teaching your class for however long that is.”
The girls stared at her. Silence.
“Um, why don’t you tell me something about yourselves?” Kate smiled at the curious faces. “Let’s start with Alyssa.”
Each of the girls gave her a few basic facts. They were all in the same grade and had known each other since nursery school days.
“Miss Laroy let us have a slumber party at her house,” Sasha announced.
“And we had our own booth at Harvest Festival,” Amber chimed in.
“Well…” Kate took a deep breath, hoping she looked composed. “Why don’t we wait a bit to discuss activities?” She held up her Sunday school book. “Did everyone read this week’s lesson?”
Various answers tumbled out.
Kate regained most of her footing as the lesson progressed. She wouldn’t compare Sunday school to riding a bike, but everything was coming back to her. Still, she was relieved when the first bell rang, indicating time to finish up. Since Alyssa had remained interested and upbeat, Kate asked her to say the closing prayer.
Bending her head, she listened to the girl’s words. They were about what she expected until almost the end.
“…and bless the ones we love and please make them love You.”
They all chimed in when Alyssa said amen. Opening her eyes, Kate studied the girl, watching as Alyssa unclenched her hands. And wondered what was troubling her so.
Chapter Three
Tucker leaned against the broad trunk of a live oak tree on the north lawn of the church, the heel of one boot braced on the rough bark. He’d had to dust his dress boots, since he hadn’t worn them in a while. It seemed strange to stand in front of the church, a place he’d practically grown up in. When he was a kid, unless blood or loss of limb was imminent, his family was in church every week. His mother used to say that if she missed church, the whole week was off because it didn’t have a beginning.
When he was eighteen, his parents were killed in a car wreck. The pastor had helped Tucker and his older sister through the loss. Karen had married and moved out of state not long afterwards. Although losing his parents had torn him up, Tucker had reconciled the loss by knowing that his parents were together forever, that neither would have been happy without the other.
Then he met Shelley and was certain that his theory was right. They were married in the chapel, and when Alyssa came along, they’d had her blessed in the same spot. And now it was the one place he couldn’t bear to enter.
As he watched, the tall, wide sanctuary doors pushed open, and people spilled out onto the front steps. Strands of conversation and laughter floated in the air like early spring butterflies. He could make out snatches of words; others were muffled by the footsteps of children who rushed out, anxious to be in the fresh air, ready to begin the picnic.
The first Sunday of the month potluck had been a tradition since he was a boy. On the rare occasions when bad weather clouded the skies, and during the winter months, they met in the Sunday school building. But his mother always said the Lord smiled on Sundays, that’s why it was usually sunny.
Alyssa sprinted toward him, her face one huge smile. “You came!”
Tucker’s gut clenched. Had he been that neglectful? He draped a hand over her shoulders. “Couldn’t keep me away.” His full attention on his daughter, he didn’t notice the approach of several surprised, pleased-looking members.
“Tuck, I thought it was you!” Grinning, Michael Carlson pumped his hand, then clapped the other on Tucker’s shoulder. “It’s been too long.”
Before Tucker could respond, several of the other people zoomed in, all talking at once. He must have shaken two dozen hands within mere minutes.
“So glad to see you!” Emma McAllister hugged him, then drew back with a big smile.
“We’ve missed you,” Matt Whitaker added.
Assorted versions of the same sentiment echoed as people crowded around. Although Tucker had known many of them since he was a kid, he didn’t feel a sense of homecoming. Instead, he felt the distance he’d created since Shelley’s death. He managed to say most of the right words, respond to all the greetings. However, the tie he was no longer accustomed to wearing seemed to tighten.
He glanced at Alyssa, and her expression was one of pure pleasure. Knowing he couldn’t disappoint her, he allowed himself to be swept along as the members strolled toward the back lawn, where round tables and folding chairs had been set up. Some people opted to bring quilts and sit on the lawn, but Tucker had been so caught up in the trauma of coming to the church, he hadn’t thought to bring a blanket or a dish to share. Long, rectangular tables, draped with plain white tablecloths, were filled with casseroles, salads, cakes, fried chicken—just about everything.
Families clustered together. Tucker swallowed, remembering when he was a kid and his parents would bring a quilt, so they could sit beneath the spreading limbs of the tallest oak tree.
Alyssa tugged on his hand. “Miss Emma said it’s okay we didn’t bring anything, ’cause there’s always too much anyway.”
True. He’d never yet been to a potluck that ran short of food. He wasn’t particularly hungry, wishing only that the picnic would end quickly so he could go home. But he walked behind Alyssa, scooping food onto his paper plate, then filling a glass of punch.
“This way, Dad.” Alyssa scooted toward a table.
Trying to balance the plate and glass, he didn’t notice until it was too late that she’d led him to the Lambert woman’s table.
“Miss Lambert’s my new Sunday school teacher,” Alyssa announced, clearly pleased.
That was quick. She’d barely had time to unpack her car.
Marvin greeted him heartily. “Come sit down.”
He couldn’t refuse without being rude. “Sure we won’t be crowding you?”
Marvin shook his head, gesturing to his wheelchair. “I brought my own seating, so we have more than enough room. Right, Kate?”
She met Tucker’s gaze and he was surprised to see a trace of vulnerability in her eyes. It faded quickly as she directed her attention toward Alyssa. “Hey!”
Alyssa scooted into the narrow spot between Marvin and Kate. There wasn’t a chair on the other side of Marvin, but there was one beside Kate. Moving the chair would be awkward, obvious. So he put his plate on the table and sat next to her.
His shoulder brushed hers as he settled in place. She didn’t jerk away, but he could feel her arm stiffen before he shifted over a few inches.
Sipping his punch, he wished he’d thought to choose a bracing cup of coffee instead. He watched his daughter. Her face was lit up, more animated than he’d seen it in…longer than he could calculate.
Marvin cut into his brisket. “Did you get some of this, Tucker? Best brisket I’ve ever eaten. That’s saying something—I eat barbecue at least twice a week.”
Tucker hadn’t paid any particular attention to what he’d piled on his plate. Looking at it, he realized he had about three kinds of potato salad and no meat. “I’ll have to try it another time.”
“I can get you some, Dad.” Alyssa popped up before he could protest.
Marvin looked after her wistfully. “Wish I could bottle some of that energy.”
Tucker guessed Marvin was a man used to doing things on his own. He was probably chafing, being confined to that chair.
“Does she have any brothers or sisters?” Kate asked.
His throat tightened. “No.”
She didn’t press. “I’m an only child myself.”
Marvin looked over at Tucker, then wrinkled his brow. “How is it I’ve never met you? I’ve been coming to this church since I moved here.”
Alyssa arrived with a hearty portion of brisket. “Mr. Carlson said there’s lots.” After placing the plate of meat on the table, she scooted next to Kate again. “And there’s all kinds of cake, too.”
Marvin turned his attention to the girl. “Daisy Ford didn’t make a pie?”
Alyssa shrugged. “Somebody said there weren’t many pies ’cause there’s gonna be a pie sale for the hospital this week. Guess they want to make sure people’ll buy the pies.”
Marvin nodded. “That’s right. Just heard about it this morning. My brain’s starting to act like a sieve.”
“It’s okay to forget stuff,” Alyssa assured him. “I forget things, too.”
Marvin chuckled. “Guess I’ll take your word for it.”
Tucker watched them, remembering the light, easy play they’d shared with Alyssa’s grandparents. But now the visits were one-sided. Shelley’s parents drove down from Dallas, but he and Alyssa hadn’t been out of Rosewood in the last two years.
Kate picked up the plate of brisket, offering it to him. “It really is delicious. Somebody told me that Michael Carlson cooks it over a low fire for hours and hours. I’m not that much of a meat eater, but this just melts in your mouth.”
His gaze dropped to her lips as she spoke. They seemed to be curved in a perpetual smile. Well, at least since they’d sat down to lunch. He easily remembered how well she could frown. Still, he couldn’t miss the tint of some sort of pinkish gloss on her full lips.
At that thought, he straightened up so quickly that he brushed her arm again. His tie felt as though it was made of shrinking elastic, tightening around his neck. “Warm for this time of year, isn’t it?”
Kate tilted her head. “I’ve only visited here before, so I don’t really know, but it seems about right to me.”
“She’s used to the heat and humidity in Houston,” Marvin explained. “It’s like being in a twenty-four hour sauna.”
Tucker glanced back at Kate. “So you are from the city.”
“Born and bred.”
He waited, but she didn’t add any details. Picking at the food on his plate, he hoped they wouldn’t have to stay too long at the lunch. He glanced over at his daughter. Alyssa was all smiles.
And she’d sure taken to Kate.
Something was different about the woman, but he couldn’t put his finger on the change. Same fiery green eyes, pale skin, auburn hair…maybe that was it—she didn’t have her hair scrunched into a ponytail. Instead it was loose, falling past her shoulders in waves.
Pretending interest in his brisket, he snuck another look. With her coloring, he expected a sprinkling of freckles, but he didn’t see any. Maybe she was a hothouse flower who kept inside all the time. She laughed just then at something Alyssa said, throwing back her head, exposing the slim column of her throat. It, too, appeared flawless.
“Tucker, it’s been a month of Sundays!” Old man Carruthers stopped by the table. “Well, more than that, I think. Good to see you back where you belong.”
Tucker stood to shake his hand. Albert Carruthers had been Tucker’s Sunday school teacher when he was in junior high school. Despite his feelings about church now, Tucker knew Mr. Carruthers only meant well.
“You doing all right, sir?”
“Just getting old, Tuck.” He lifted his cane. “But I’m not letting it slow me down.”
Remembering the older man’s endless energy when he was younger, Tucker grinned and lightly touched the cane. “Don’t be vaulting any fences. Mrs. Carruthers’ll have your hide.”
Albert chuckled. “You’re right about that.” Reaching up, he patted Tucker’s shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger. I’ve missed you.”
Tucker would have liked to reassure his old friend, but he couldn’t lie to him.
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.”
