Return to Marker Ranch (14 page)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

L
ORI
STOOD
NEAR
the entrance of the church, waiting for Mandy, who was moving in slow motion today. If her sister didn't hurry they'd be stuck way in the back, where people always whispered to each other. She liked to sit up front, where she could see and hear everything. Mandy teased that she was still the straight-A, front-row student she'd been in school. Maybe it was true.

She passed the time looking at the view. The church was in a beautiful spot, on a hill above Benson. From here Lori could see all the way out across the high desert east of town. And if she turned to face the other way, the peaks of the Sierra rose sharply behind the church, as if lifting their fingers up to God. At least, that's what the pastor always said.

She fixed her eyes on Mandy, trying to will her away from her conversation with Marybeth Bradford, a widow who ran the senior bingo games and was always hitting Mandy up for cookie donations. And of course her sister always obliged.

Just then, a man walking up the rise from the parking lot caught her eye. He wore dark jeans, and his black cowboy boots were clean and polished. Her eyes traveled up past his slim hips to the simple pale blue dress shirt. Broad shoulders. Dark eyes. Dark hair. Seriously handsome. Then it registered.
Wade.

She took a step back and bumped into the pillar behind her. What was
he
doing here? He came straight for her, eyes locking on to hers. He didn't stop for a greeting—typical Wade—just went right into what he wanted to say. “I'm sorry if I messed things up with Seth last week. I never meant to undermine your authority—I was being protective and I didn't have the right. I don't know how to make this better, but I'm here because I want to.”

His words raced over her skin, igniting nerves. He was danger. Making her want so much. Reminding her of that kiss. That dance in the parish hall. Both had left an impression of softness and heat that she kept tasting on her lips. “Why here? You don't go to church.”

He glanced over at her sister and then back. “I do now. Your sister has some pretty strong opinions about what a little religion might do for me.”

“My sister?” Lori looked over at Mandy and caught her watching them. She narrowed her eyes, and her sister glanced away, biting a smile off her lip. “She invited you here today?”

“She did. But I'm the one who said yes. I wanted to see you.”

He was braver than she was, just putting his thoughts right out there. His words were tempting her to give in. To admit how much she'd missed him this past week. To acknowledge how sad she'd felt when Mandy made her imagine life without Wade.

But seeing him wasn't easy, either. Because she liked things organized and orderly, and he had her emotions in chaos.

“Lori, who is this fine young man you're chatting with?”

The voice was unmistakable and unwelcome. Tabitha Lawrence, former head cheerleader and homecoming queen, who tried to relive her mean-girl glory days at every opportunity.

“Tabitha, do you remember Wade Hoffman?”

Tabitha gave the smile a cat gives to the bird under its paw. “Why, of course I do! I wondered if it was you when I spotted you talking with rancher Lori here. I had to come see it with my own eyes.” She glanced at Lori conspiratorially. “I heard they were letting a lot of folks out of prison these days to save the government money.”

Wade paled, and Lori almost gasped out loud. But she wouldn't give Tabitha the satisfaction. “Huh... I hadn't followed that piece of news. But I did hear that we had a new military hero in town, so I was happy when my sister invited him to worship with us today. It's quite an honor.”

It was a blow, but when it came to verbal combat, Tabitha was ruthless. “Oh my, I didn't realize!” She batted her eyes at Wade. “I'm surprised I didn't see anything about your homecoming in the local paper. I know when Lewis Quinn came back, they threw him a parade. But isn't that just like a Hoffman, to sneak back into town with none of us knowing?”

Lori had wondered, in her more charitable moments, what had happened to Tabitha to make her so mean. But right now she didn't care. “It's funny, Tabitha, but not everyone needs to have an audience all the time. I wouldn't call Wade moving back here ‘sneaking.' I'd call it living his life and minding his own business. You should try it sometime.”

Tabitha stared at her in shocked fury. “Lori, I don't know what you're hinting at.”

Lori stepped up, right up, into Tabitha's face, which she was sure was in there somewhere beneath the thick layers of makeup. “Well, luckily there is some time for quiet contemplation in church every Sunday. Maybe you could try making use of it. Now, if you'll excuse us, Wade and I are going to head on inside. There are a few good people who I know will want to welcome him before the service starts.”

She grabbed Wade's arm, momentarily disconcerted by the warm, strong feeling of him under her hand, and hauled him into the church, straight down the center aisle and into an available pew just two rows back from the altar.

She sat down on the bench with a thump and pulled Wade down next to her. “Sorry about that. She can be truly awful...well, pretty much all the time.”

Smile lines crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You came to my rescue.”

“I just don't have any patience for people who make a habit of insulting others. Mandy would remind me that she's probably unhappy. Disappointed with the way her life worked out. But I'm sorry. If you're disappointed, take a class, get a degree, move away, do
something
!”

“You defended me,” he said again. “It was awesome. I think you might still like me, despite my idiocy at your ranch.”

He was so close, so intent on her, and it was amazing to see him smiling. Heat rose in her cheeks. “
Sometimes
I like you. Sometimes I honestly don't.”

“I get that. But if we spent more time together, you might like me more often.”

Heat pooled other places as well. Her heart pounded. Why couldn't she get all fluttery like this for someone else? Someone safe, who she didn't share so much bad history with? “I don't know.”

“I heard you got a new dog.”

His sudden change of subject surprised her. “A what? No! I didn't get...” Realization dawned. “You mean the coyote snack? What did Mandy tell you? No, I did
not
get a new dog. It's just some stray who showed up at the ranch. Not my kind of animal, trust me.”

“Huh. Well, I have a new animal, too. You should come by and check him out sometime.”

“A new animal? Please tell me it's not another loco heifer you got for cheap.”

He grinned. “Nah. I might have learned my lesson about that. It's a horse. From Nora's fiancé, Todd. Another mustang.”

“Oh, great! I'd love to check it out.”

“He's not broken to saddle yet. I'm going to train him.” He looked almost shy.

“It's a great project,” she assured him. “I'm a little jealous. I've been trying to get the nerve to try it myself.”

“I'd welcome your help anytime. I don't know what I'm doing.”

He looked worried, and she wanted to lighten his burden a little. “You'll figure it out. Just don't stand behind him.” She winked at him. “They kick.”

He laughed at her obvious advice, and a few people turned around with disapproving glances. “Oops,” he murmured. “Guess this thing is getting started.”

“This thing?” She grinned. “Oh, you mean church?”

“Where's Mandy?” He glanced around, looking a little panicked. “She promised to elbow me at all the kneeling parts.”

Lori glanced around, too, but Mandy was nowhere in sight. “She's probably setting up cookies for after the service.” His words sunk in. “You mean you've
never
been to church before?”

He shook his head.

He'd come here for her. To do something he had no idea how to do. To participate in something that he quite possibly didn't even believe in. For her. Warmth flooded her. Not the heat of attraction she'd felt when they first walked in. Just warmth in her heart that he would take this risk to see her again.

“Never, ever? Not
any
church?”

“It wasn't exactly my family's style.”

Their style.
That was one way to put it.
Abuse
and
neglect
were other words for it. A long-ago memory surfaced. She'd been about twelve years old and nestled safely next to Mandy in the backseat of the family SUV, on the way back from church. She'd looked out the window and spotted Wade walking along the road between their ranches. Alone. It was January and he'd had no coat. Her father had pulled over at her exclamation and gotten out to talk to him. Then he'd bundled Wade in the car and driven him to their ranch.

They knew each other well. They were childhood friends on the playground. But he wouldn't look at her that day. He just sat next to her in the backseat, staring straight ahead, two crimson spots on his cheeks, answering her father's questions with a stiff “yes, sir” or “no, sir.” His hand had brushed against her arm accidentally, and she jolted. His skin was like ice.

Her parents had brought him into their warm kitchen, made him cocoa and fed him lunch. Then her mom had left with him. Lori found out later that she'd taken him into town and bought him a coat, a hat, gloves, warm socks and new boots.

A few weeks later, on another icy morning, Wade had shown up at school with no coat again. The hat, gloves and boots were gone, too. Worried, Lori had cornered him, demanding to know where his winter clothing was. He'd finally confessed that his dad had been furious that he'd accepted charity and had sold the clothing to some thrift shop in another town. Wade begged Lori not to tell her parents. He didn't have to say more. Lori saw the fear in his eyes.

Yeah, church hadn't been a part of Wade's family. That was an understatement.

She stared at the floor for a moment, stunned at the vivid memory. She'd been so intent on hating Wade ever since he'd left town. She'd let her regret about their night together, her resentment of his harsh words, push aside all her earlier memories of the lost boy he'd been. Since he'd returned she'd been caught up in herself, in all the emotions his return brought up for
her
. But what about
his
emotions? He must have a vault of memories like that coat, but so much worse because of the abuse he'd suffered at the hands of his horrible father. No wonder he'd lost his temper when Seth struck him. How many times had he been struck growing up?

Between the way he'd grown up and his time in Afghanistan, he probably had more bad memories than anyone in town. But he was moving on, trying to create a new life for himself. He wasn't letting the past hold him back. She needed to do the same for him. She wanted to. Tentatively she slipped her hand in his, relieved that it was warm and strong and no longer the icy hand of that little boy on that freezing winter day. “Don't worry,” she whispered as he looked down at her wonderingly. “I'll get you through the service. I've got an elbow, too.”

* * *

H
OLDING
L
ORI
'
S
HAND
, Wade savored her nearness. Her perfume, a little spicy and mysterious, mixed with the old wood of the building, the wax and smoke of the candles, formed a heady cloud around him. Maybe it was her next to him, or the pastor's words, but he felt different, being here in church. The pastor talked about the meaning of fall, of cleaning house for winter, of making ready for darker nights by getting one's house in order. His words resonated.

Wade was suddenly filled with a certainty that he was perched on the edge of something new. Something more meaningful that involved a wild horse and his work on the ranch and this woman by his side. Slowly but surely, he'd get his house in order.

Tears stung behind his eyes, and he was shocked to realize they were of gratitude and joy. Both unfamiliar, both powerful. And maybe that was God or maybe it was just how he felt about Lori, but he said a quick prayer of thanks that Mandy had asked him to come here today.

It had been a morning of strange miracles. Lori sticking up for him with awful Tabitha. Being there for him. Holding on to his hand as if he were her lifeline. As if they were a couple. If all that could happen, was it greedy to ask for just one more miracle that would get his mind back into shape?

After the service, he stumbled through the handshakes and introductions in a happy daze. Lori still held his hand. The pastor looked into his eyes with kindness and asked him to come back next week. Mandy gave him a grin and a thumbs-up as she loaded his plate with sweets at the coffee hour afterward.

When he offered Lori a ride home, she said yes. And when she climbed into his old truck, she slid across the bench seat to sit right next to him.

He put his arm around her shoulders and looked at her questioningly.

“Yes, please,” she answered. So he pulled her in close and guided his beat-up Ford out of town.

He didn't want to jinx it, but he had to ask. “So, what's changed?”

Glancing up at him from under her long lashes, she shrugged. “I realized in church that you've always meant a lot to me. Way before things went wrong between us. And I thought about how we can't change what happened. I'm always going to carry that sadness and regret around. But I don't want it to paralyze me or keep me from what I want.”

“And what's that?” he asked huskily, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the road when all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms.

“I want you,” she said simply, leaning her head on his shoulder.

He kissed her hair softly, glad she was looking at the road ahead and not at the tears that threatened to fall. He turned into her driveway, not wanting this life-changing drive or the peaceful silence between them to end.