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Second Chance Rancher
Brenda Minton
Her Texas HomecomingAt eighteen, Lucy Palermo couldn’t wait to join the army and leave Bluebonnet Springs behind. Ten years later, she’s come home to fix her family’s falling-down ranch and repair the bond with her troubled siblings. Neighboring rancher Dane Scott is even more handsome—and distracting—than she remembers. The single dad’s priority is making a stable life for his daughter. He needs someone who’ll stay—and straight-talking Lucy doesn’t seem to need anyone. But beneath that tough exterior is a loving, soft-hearted woman. A woman Dane can’t help wanting, if he can show her that the town she once fled is the perfect place to start over—together.Bluebonnet Springs: Finding true love in Texas


Her Texas Homecoming
At eighteen, Lucy Palermo couldn’t wait to join the army and leave Bluebonnet Springs behind. Ten years later, she’s come home to fix her family’s falling-down ranch and repair the bond with her troubled siblings. Neighboring rancher Dane Scott is even more handsome—and distracting—than she remembers. The single dad’s priority is making a stable life for his daughter. He needs someone who’ll stay—and straight-talking Lucy doesn’t seem to need anyone. But beneath that tough exterior is a loving, softhearted woman. A woman Dane can’t help wanting, if he can show her that the town she once fled is the perfect place to start over—together.
“I don’t need you there to hold my hand.”
He held up both hands. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Friend.”
“Neighbor,” she mumbled as she walked away.
Dane followed Lucy inside. He shouldn’t have. He should have gotten back to work. Instead he walked behind her, ignoring the tense set of her shoulders and the fact that she didn’t want him along for this journey.
“Stop thinking about me.” She shot the comment over her shoulder as she walked through the kitchen. “I’m not a project. I don’t need to be fixed. Go do whatever good deed you were going to do here today.”
“I’m replacing light fixtures and repairing some sockets. You’re not on my to-do list.”
He couldn’t stop himself, though. For the last few years he had focused all his energy on the ranch and his daughter.
The last thing he wanted was to get caught up in Lucy’s messy life. But here he was, intrigued and unable to walk away.
Dear Reader (#u8a35d801-bbe0-5468-bc13-25b7475bf542),
Lucy Palermo is a character I couldn’t leave behind. She’s someone we might want to have as a friend, but we know that she wouldn’t give that friendship easily.
There are people in our lives who are very much like Lucy. They appear strong, distant, or cool. If we take the time to get to know them we will find that they hide their pain beneath that cool facade.
Every day we pass people on the street, see them in the grocery store, ignore them in the hallways at school and we think we know them. We judge what we see on the outside. The popular girl in school must have it all. The boy walking by himself in worn jeans and a stained T-shirt, we pass on by without a greeting. The woman at the store who never smiles when we say hello, she must be unfriendly.
They all have stories. And often, they just need a friend. Today, take time and be the person who reaches out.


BRENDA MINTON lives in the Ozarks with her husband, children, cats, dogs and strays. She is a pastor’s wife, Sunday-school teacher, coffee addict and sleep deprived. Not in that order. Her dream to be an author for Harlequin started somewhere in the pages of a romance novel about a young American woman stranded in a Spanish castle. Her dream came true, and twenty-plus books later, she is an author hoping to inspire young girls to dream.
Second Chance Rancher
Brenda Minton


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For God has not given us a spirit of fear and
timidity, but of power, love and self discipline.
—2 Timothy 1:7
To my family for the love and encouragement
they’ve given me over the years.
To Melissa, for the opportunity to
continue writing the books I love.
And Giselle, for all her work in this process.
Thank you both for keeping me on track.
Contents
Cover (#uf8dde929-91f6-5278-8e17-f7e39bf51176)
Back Cover Text (#u68f43dad-1679-515c-97d6-0c59923f1b60)
Introduction (#udd58d580-dfd2-5ffe-a3fe-169ae6f0ce4d)
Dear Reader (#ueac3903c-c9c9-5676-b1bc-f197d8075f86)
About the Author (#u3d1a9403-dad9-58d1-abf2-f8eeb477ecd0)
Title Page (#u7f2af10e-2416-5882-a3b6-1bd88430a81f)
Bible Verse (#u0dd7e92f-01aa-5151-acb3-328b111bf74d)
Dedication (#uae6ddcb4-ec90-56c5-8296-bc4a1875b9a3)
Contents (#u8a35d801-bbe0-5468-bc13-25b7475bf542)
Chapter One (#u3af51b84-1a2c-584e-9fed-d8984ce0486c)
Chapter Two (#u0e90d3b4-e800-5715-ab41-3bad500bd17b)
Chapter Three (#ua2d0bd68-1e7e-5d0f-8866-ecbd1cbcf7d9)
Chapter Four (#u4c400ab9-f2a5-5b1c-b1be-67ca8462565d)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u8a35d801-bbe0-5468-bc13-25b7475bf542)
Late morning sun in his eyes, Dane Scott thought he couldn’t be seeing right. There was an old Chevy truck tangled up in the fencerow and a half-dozen head of his cattle grazing in the ditch. He pulled to the side of the road and got out. His dog jumped off the back of the truck and followed him down the slope. As he drew closer, Dane prepared himself, hoping he wouldn’t find anyone inside the truck that he knew belonged to his neighbors, the Palermos.
Fortunately the truck was empty. The tires were bogged down in mud, compliments of two days of rain and a driver who had tried to back out of the mess. Barbed wire from the fence was wrapped around the passenger side tires.
At least he could surmise that seventeen-year-old Maria Palermo wasn’t injured. The big problem was, who to call. The Palermo family was what the good folks of Bluebonnet Spring, Texas, called “a mess.” That was usually followed by a “bless their hearts” or “it wasn’t really their fault.”
The most functional member of the family was Lucy Palermo. But last he’d heard, she was a couple of hundred miles south, near Austin. The twin brothers, Alex and Marcus, were somewhere riding bulls. Their mother was in California with husband number three.
Dane knew Maria was home alone and running wild. Even when her brothers showed up and pretended to be responsible, she was on her own.
He guessed he could call Essie Palermo, great-aunt of the four siblings and owner of Essie’s Diner in Bluebonnet Springs. Essie lamented the children of her late nephew. She said a little religion wouldn’t have hurt them, but the kind they’d gotten from their own father had wounded them to the core.
Dane pulled the keys out of the ignition of the abandoned truck and walked back up the embankment to the road. He pulled his hat low and scanned the field where another two hundred head of Black Angus cattle grazed. Good thing they hadn’t spotted the truck-sized hole in the fence.
At the moment it didn’t matter who he called. He had to get that truck out of his field and patch up the fence. As he headed for his vehicle, a dark blue truck parked behind his. Even with a glare on the windshield, he could see the driver, her dark hair pulled back and a big frown tugging at her mouth.
Lucy Palermo. The oldest of the Palermo siblings, and the last person he expected to see on this stretch of the road. A year younger than his thirty years, she had reasons for avoiding her childhood home. And they had reasons for avoiding each other.
She was out of her truck and heading his way, cutting short his trip down memory lane. Not that he wanted to go there. He opened the toolbox on the back of his truck and pulled out gloves and wire cutters. From the frown on her face he could tell she was half mad and half worried.
“She’s not in the truck so she must be okay.” He guessed that might ease her worry, and then she could focus on being mad.
“She needs to be locked up,” Lucy said on a huff, her gaze shooting to the wrecked truck.
He gave her a quick look, trying to come to terms with the woman at his side, because the girl he’d known hadn’t been this cool person with the clipped tone. A smile took him by surprise but he tamped it down because he didn’t need her ire. That’s exactly what he would get if she knew he’d even dared to think of that girl and that summer. It was safer to keep the conversation on Maria, her little sister.
“She’s just a kid.”
She responded with rapid-fire Portuguese, then briefly closed her eyes and shook her head.
“She’s a kid who ran her truck through a neighbor’s fence and left.” She spoke again in English.
He shook his head and walked away, because she knew better. Lucy followed, still talking. He hid a smile as she continued to rant about their mother leaving town, her irresponsible brothers and the call from Aunt Essie telling her she was needed in Bluebonnet Springs.
“She didn’t know what to do.” He defended her aunt.
“I know. And it isn’t her responsibility. I should have been here.”
He stopped because something needed to be said. She nearly ran into him, so with his free hand he reached out to steady her. Her dark eyes snapped as she looked down at his hand on her arm, not saying a word, but clearly reinforcing the Don’t Touch policy.
Yeah, that was the Lucy he remembered. She’d been wearing that Hands Off sign for a long time. “You’re here now,” he offered. “Maybe if you stay, you can help her out.”
Wrong words. Her dark eyes narrowed. Try as he might, he was a man and he noticed that even spitting mad, she was beautiful. Not the flowery, glossy kind of beauty, but strong and wildly feminine even in jeans, a plain T-shirt and boots.
She scrubbed a hand over her face and sighed. “I plan on staying. And I’m sorry about the fence. I’ll help you get your cattle back in, and then I’ll see to getting the fence fixed.”
They stood side by side studying the wrecked truck and the fence. Dane’s dog, Pete, a black-and-white border collie, sniffed the tires.
“I’m sure she’ll be okay, Lucy. She’s been through a lot.”
“I know she’s been through a lot.” She kept a steady gaze on the truck but he saw moisture gather in her eyes. “I thought Maria was staying with Aunt Essie.”
“I think she might have stayed there for a few weeks but eventually she moved back to the ranch.”
“I can’t say that I blame her. Essie is used to living alone. But I wish someone had told me our mother had skipped town again. If nothing else, I could have taken Maria to Austin with me.”
Dane shot her a look, knowing she was talking more to herself than to him. She confirmed that by giving him a hard stare that seemed to ask what he was looking at. So he shrugged it off and started clipping wires wrapped around the wheels of the truck.
He wasn’t getting involved. He was just going to fix his fence and head home to his own life. Lucy Palermo could take care of her problems. He’d take care of his.
* * *
After pushing the truck out of the way, Lucy had helped Dane get his cattle back. They’d patched the fence but she promised she’d be back to make it right. As she headed up the dirt drive that led to the home she’d been raised in, she felt that old familiar tightening around her heart. She recognized it as panic. A few deep breaths helped to ease the pain. There was nothing here to fear. Her father was gone. His life claimed by a bull he’d hoped would be his ticket to the big time.
Her mother wasn’t in the kitchen pretending there was nothing wrong with a man who randomly drank, quoted the Bible and then beat his children for the slightest infraction.
Lucy parked in the circle drive, just a dozen feet from the front steps of the house. It no longer looked like a home, not with the lawn covered in weeds, flowers growing wild up the posts that supported the porch roof and no lights glimmering from inside. The one thing that had been a constant had been the facade of this home. It had looked like a house where a happy family lived. The house had been a real metaphor for their lives. Picturesque on the outside, dark and painful on the inside.
As she headed for the front door she gave herself a pep talk. She didn’t have to stay here. She could take Maria with her back to Austin. Why should either of them stay in Bluebonnet now that Maria would be graduating high school? It seemed like the perfect solution.
She stepped through the front door, chastising herself for reliving the past. The house was quiet except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the dining room. The air conditioner hadn’t been turned on and the temperature inside must have been at least ninety degrees. It felt cooler outside than in. To top it off, the place had the distinct smell of neglect. The trash hadn’t been taken out. The dog had been left to run inside. Her mother had abandoned her duties. Again.
That left Lucy to pick up the pieces and keep her siblings on track. At twenty-nine she was tired of being the family glue, but since there was no one else, she would do what needed to be done.
She would clean up the mess. She would find her younger sister. She would make sure her twin brothers were clean and sober. For years, since their father’s death, the family was like a spring that had been coiled up tight and then turned loose. They’d all gone off in different directions, a little wild, a lot unpredictable.
She’d picked the Army, even before her father’s death, because it had seemed like the antithesis to her childhood. Every day in the military she’d known the time to get up, to eat and to go to bed. She’d usually known what each day would require. Most importantly, it had meant being thousands of miles from Bluebonnet.
There had been surprises. There had been pain. And death. But she’d survived. The same way she’d survived her childhood.
“Maria, where are you?” Lucy yelled. From the back of the ranch house, the dog barked. Maria didn’t respond, but Lucy guessed if she followed the bark, she’d find her sister.
She opened the door at the end of the hall. Maria was passed out on her bed. The dog growled from the pillow next to her. Lucy scanned the disaster of a bedroom. Clothes covered nearly every surface. The chair by the window, the dresser, the floor. It looked like a department store had exploded. The windows were wide-open, letting in the heat of late May.
What a mess.
“Stupid poodle.” Maria, dark hair tangled and smudges beneath her eyes, reached in a half slumber and pushed the dog off the bed.
“Be nice to the dog,” Lucy warned.
Maria sat up quickly, then held her head and groaned. “Go away.”
“Right, because a seventeen-year-old can be trusted to take care of herself.”
“Marcus and Alex are here. They’re adults. And I’m almost eighteen.”
“Our brothers are in Waco and we both know that. I got a call from Essie, letting me know you were running wild and she’s taking care of the livestock. But you, on the other hand...”
“She should mind her own business.” Maria fell back on the pillow and covered her head with a blanket. “I hate you.”
“Right, because alcohol is your friend and I’m not. How long has our mother been gone? And why aren’t you with her?”
“She went to California a couple of months ago. She and husband number three are back in love. I don’t like to be a third wheel. And I haven’t been drinking.”
“Of course you haven’t. Get up out of that bed. You have a fence to fix.”
“What?” She brushed a hand through the tangles of her curly, chestnut hair.
“You ran through Dane Scott’s fence, Maria. Last night. You even left the truck where you wrecked it.” Lucy shook her head and gave her sister another long look. “Get up. I’ll help with the fence but I’m not doing all the work.”
“Poor Lucy, she has to do everything. And I wasn’t drinking.” The blanket she’d held to her chin dropped, revealing a rounded tummy. Lucy closed her eyes, hoping what she’d seen wasn’t real, wasn’t happening.
“You’re pregnant.” She said it softly, waiting for Maria to deny it.
“Yeah. Surprise! And I wasn’t drinking. A deer ran in front of my truck.”
“No one told me.” Lucy had been busy working in Austin as a bodyguard. She’d had her own life, happily far from the family drama, even though she occasionally got calls to come home and fix things. But now the drama had landed in her lap.
“No. We didn’t tell you. Last time you were home I wasn’t showing.”
“Everyone knows? Even Mom?”
“She doesn’t know. She isn’t observant. Essie told me it was my place to tell you.”
“How far along?”
Maria looked young. And lost. She was having a baby. “Close to five months,” she answered in a quiet voice.
“Okay, well, we’ll figure this out.” With that, Lucy left the room, the hungry poodle fast on her heels.
A truck pulled up as she washed dishes. Dane had towed the old farm truck back to the house for her. She let out a long sigh, rinsed the plate she had just washed and walked to the front door. Dane Scott stood in the yard, eyeing the mess that had once been the Palermo ranch. A frown settled on his too-handsome, too-tan, too-everything face. He pushed back the cowboy hat that shaded his features and pulled the sunglasses off his too-straight nose.
Lucy wanted to go back inside, lock the door and pretend she’d never been sixteen and in love with Dane. Heat climbed into her cheeks thinking about her teen self and how she’d dreamed he’d take her away from this ranch and her father.
That was all ancient history, years of water under the proverbial bridge.
“Don’t just stand there drooling,” Maria whispered from behind her, humor lacing her tone. “Put him in his place. Never let them see you dream, sis.”
Lucy walked down the steps, pretending Maria hadn’t spoken.
“Dane.” She grabbed the yapping poodle as it ran circles around his stock dog. Other people had real cattle dogs. The Palermo family had a poodle that couldn’t find the door to go outside and wouldn’t know a cow from a tree. “Thank you for towing it home for me. Maria and I will fix the fence.”
His blue eyes narrowed, then his gaze shifted to the point beyond her left shoulder where she knew Maria must be standing. He nodded just slightly as he refocused on her.
“You don’t have to fix it, Lucy. I’ll send a couple of my men over to finish up the repairs.”
“We’re responsible. We’ll fix it.” She kept her tone even, because she wouldn’t argue the point.
He tipped his hat back and leveled those blue eyes of his on her. “I’ll fix the fence. While I’m here I wanted to make sure I can renew my lease for the three hundred acres.”
“Of course you can. Why wouldn’t we keep the agreement?” She wondered if there was something she didn’t know. Something she should know.
He shrugged. “I guess I thought you were going to stick around and might want to use that land.”
She glanced back at her obviously pregnant sister. The teenager was sitting on one of the older rocking chairs on the covered front porch that ran the length of the house.
“I guess I won’t be going anywhere, not for a while. But I’m not going to need that land. I’ll make do with the two hundred we’ve been using.”
“You didn’t know?” Dane’s voice was smooth, quiet and concerned.
He meant about Maria. She briefly closed her eyes and shook her head. In that moment it would have been easy to return to the girl she’d been, the one who had confided in him, shared secrets with him.
No, she told herself. That was a long time ago. A dozen years might as well have been a lifetime because they’d both gone through things. They’d changed. The kids they’d been, those two teens who had met up while riding horses, or in town every once in a while, those two were long gone.
“No. I didn’t know,” she answered. She wasn’t getting the Sister of the Year award. “It looks as if I should have come home sooner. I tried a few times, but work...”
She didn’t owe him explanations. He was a neighbor. He leased part of their land. He wasn’t their keeper.
He was her past. A very unhappy part of her past.
“Understandable,” he answered, anyway. The one word was meant to let her off the hook. She didn’t need that, either.
“No, it isn’t. But I’m here now. And it looks as if I have a lot of work to do. Starting with your fence.” She let her gaze slide away from his piercing eyes to a stable that needed repairs, a wood fence that had fallen down in places and a lawn that was overgrown.
In the distance an ATV could be heard. She glanced west, the direction the sound came from.
“That would be Essie, coming to give me her opinion of the place and my life,” Lucy said, more to herself than to her neighbor.
“She does have opinions.” He grinned as he said it. They all knew Essie. She ran a café in town and had her own small spread about a mile down the road.
In the midst of the worst of her nephew’s religious antics, Essie had rebelled. She’d refused to attend his services, her first offense. And then she’d tried to stop him from beating Lucy. That had earned her a black eye and an escort from the premises. It wasn’t until after his death that Essie was allowed back on the property.
“Yes, she does have opinions.” Lucy watched the four-wheeler and the woman controlling it, a bright red helmet covering her now-graying hair.
“I’ll unhitch your truck and leave it by the garage. But let me know if you need anything. And don’t worry about the fence. I can get it taken care of.” He gave them a parting nod with a tilt of his white cowboy hat before he climbed back in his big Ford King Ranch and drove slowly in the direction of the garage, their old truck clunking along behind him.
“The temperature goes up ten degrees every time he’s near. Hot. Hot. Hot.” Maria appeared at Lucy’s side, a cheeky grin on her face. She took the poodle from Lucy. “I’ll get changed and we can get to work on this place. But you might want to go splash some cold water on your face first.”
Lucy shook her head and walked away from her little sister, who was grinning as if this was all a big joke and they weren’t in serious trouble.
Chapter Two (#u8a35d801-bbe0-5468-bc13-25b7475bf542)
Lucy headed for the barn where Essie had parked. Essie shot her a critical look, shaking her head as she hooked her helmet on the handlebars of the ATV. Her long gray hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Twin slashes of rose-tinted blush dotted her cheeks. She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a photo of downtown Bluebonnet Springs on the front.
“What’s Dane Scott doing here?” Essie said with the faintest trace of an accent. She’d moved to the United States forty years ago. Her husband, Emit Jackson, had been an American soldier. She’d loved him at first sight and would have followed him anywhere, she’d always told them.
Lucy’s father, Jesse Palermo, had arrived in Texas ten years later. He’d moved to the States when his bull riding career had been at its peak and the big money had been found outside his native Brazil.
It should have been obvious why Dane was there, but Lucy could play along. “He towed the truck home.”
Her aunt gave her a half grin. “He’s still a good-looking man.”
“I suppose, but he’s a bit young for you.”
Essie cackled at that. “Pity, but it’s true. But then, I was never in love with him.”
Had she been in love? It had been years ago and she’d convinced herself that it had simply been infatuation. Or maybe she’d been attracted to him because he’d seemed strong and safe.
She no longer needed a man to make her feel safe. She no longer needed to escape this life.
“I guess you saw your sister?” Essie asked as she sat on the edge of the ATV seat.
“Yes, I saw her.” Lucy didn’t know what else to say to her aunt. Her sister was pregnant. As the old saying went, “the cow was already out of the barn.”
Essie gave Lucy a long look with dark eyes that made a person squirm. “I hope you weren’t too hard on her.”
“I wasn’t.” Lucy sighed. “To be honest, I’m not sure what to do.”
“Aren’t you?” Essie’s mouth pulled down. “I’m not going to tell you that she’s your responsibility, Lucy. But she has to be someone’s responsibility. She’s not even eighteen and she doesn’t have anyone. Your mother doesn’t have a maternal bone in her body. Your brothers are chasing pipe dreams. It’s like that poor girl is collateral damage. I love her but she doesn’t want to live with an old woman. And I sure don’t speak teen girl.”
“It’s a different language,” Lucy admitted. “I don’t know that I’ve ever spoken it.”
Essie’s eyes softened. “I know and I’m sorry. You were all victims and I wish I could have done more for you.”
Lucy nodded, her gaze again drifting across the property. It was easier to deal with the land, the house and not her emotional well-being. “It’s a mess.”
“Yes, it is.” Essie followed the direction of Lucy’s gaze.
They were both talking about more than the condition of the ranch.
“I’m not sure what to do about Maria.” Lucy leaned against the fence and watched as the few head of cattle stopped to graze before moving on to the water trough.
“Not much you can do. I don’t think she wants to marry the boy.” Essie got off the ATV and joined Lucy as she crossed to the fence to look out at the property. “I worry that she won’t go to college. She’s a smart girl and I don’t want her to give up on her dreams.”
Her sister had dreams. Lucy tried to remember what that had been like, to dream of something other than making it through a night without nightmares.
“Take time and get to know her, Lucy,” Essie said. “She’s someone you will probably like.”
Lucy nodded, her gaze remaining on the cattle. “I’ll talk to her. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say.”
“Talking is a start. She would probably like to have someone around. She gets lonely out here. When a kid get lonely, they get in trouble.”
Lucy thought about her own teen years. She’d been lonely and she’d also found trouble.
Essie patted her arm and headed for her four-wheeler. “I have to get to the café. I hired that silly Bea Maxwell to cook when I’m not there but I worry about leaving her alone. Why don’t you girls get cleaned up and come in for lunch? My treat.”
“I’m not sure. It looks like I have a fence to rebuild and a few things around here that can’t be put off.”
“Supper, then?”
Lucy nodded in agreement and watched as her aunt slid the helmet over her head. Essie smiled at her and then, quickly, before Lucy could react, stepped forward and embraced her. Lucy stiffened beneath the unaccustomed gesture but Essie didn’t let go. She hugged a little tighter and finished the embrace by patting her on the back.
“It will all work out, chica. Trust God that He has a plan.”
Lucy stepped back, putting some distance between them, and drew in a deep breath, telling herself she hadn’t needed or wanted that hug. “I think I’ll leave the faith to you, Aunt Essie. I’ll deal with the ranch and making sure Maria is healthy. You and God work out the rest.”
Essie laughed a little. “Oh, don’t you worry. Me and God are on very good terms.”
“I know.”
Unfortunately Lucy and God were another matter altogether. She’d had a childhood of God, sermons, the Bible and beatings. She avoided church and people who wanted to help her “get right with the Lord.” She admired people with genuine faith. She knew that it mattered. But she couldn’t make the walls disappear. The fortress around her heart was strong, built one beating at a time.
She headed for the house. Again the putrid smell of neglect hit her the moment she walked through the door. First things first—she needed some bleach and pine cleaner. Maria was in the kitchen scavenging in the fridge. She mumbled something about “nothing to eat” and that she was eating for two. “Don’t people realize the tadpole needs nourishment?”
Lucy couldn’t help but smile. The mischievous little girl Lucy had known had survived, still smart-mouthed and funny. She was the one good thing to come out of this place. And she could still smile. Lucy envied her sister.
“Essie said she’d feed us tonight. Until then, is there anything in the cabinets that isn’t spoiled?” Lucy grabbed a bottle of water out of the door of the fridge, and then gagged a little. “What’s in there?”
Maria slammed the door of the fridge, put a hand to her mouth and ran.
Lucy followed her sister to the bathroom door.
“Don’t come in,” Maria grumbled.
“I’m not, but I’m here if you need me.” She leaned against the wall and waited.
Her little sister was having a baby. It would take time to wrap her mind around this new reality. Maria had been seven when Lucy left home to join the Army. She’d been a terror in pigtails, with a dirty face and into all kinds of trouble.
A bittersweet memory surfaced. Maria, insecure, crawling in bed with Lucy after everyone else went to sleep.
Now that little girl was going to be a mother.
“Luce?”
“I’m here.”
“I don’t want a baby,” Maria sobbed.
Lucy took that as an invitation to step into the bathroom. Maria was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, her eyes closed, perspiration dampening her brow. She was pale and thin. No, not thin. The baby bump beneath her T-shirt was obvious.
Lucy shoved back the dozens of responses to her sister’s statement. It wouldn’t do any good to tell Maria she should have thought about wanting a baby before she’d gotten herself pregnant. She couldn’t change what had happened. Instead there were obvious consequences. A child. A baby with two kids as parents, kids who didn’t want to be parents.
“No, I’m sure you don’t want a baby.” Lucy didn’t know what else to say. Maria scrunched her nose and frowned. “Sorry, Maria. I’m not sure what to say. But I’m here. We’ll get through this.”
“You’ve been telling me that for a long time,” Maria whispered, looking young and frightened in this new role life had cast her in.
But not by herself.
Lucy sighed and remembered back, to nights when she’d tried to reassure her little sister.
Long-ago nights when Maria would crowd onto the twin bed in the room the two shared. They would hug each other and Lucy would whisper that it would be okay. Tiny Maria would pat her cheek or trace the bruise on Lucy’s face.
She’d never thought about it before, but the two of them had survived the way soldiers survive—together.
“I guess I’ve never known what else to say, Maria. We will get through this. Yes, you’ll have a baby. But it isn’t the end of the world.”
“It is for me.”
Lucy sank down to sit next to her sister. “It isn’t. I promise. You’ll graduate soon. You can take classes online.”
Maria gasped and looked at her. “I graduated early. In December. You didn’t know. I wondered, because you weren’t here.”
Stunned, they sat in silence for several minutes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
“We didn’t make a big deal out of it. I got my diploma. Mom told me I’m brilliant. Alex sent me a postcard from California, and Marcus called.”
And Lucy had done nothing.
Maria patted her leg, a reassuring gesture for a young sister to give an older sibling. “Don’t let it bother you. Mom is like that. She probably thought you were too busy. Or that you wouldn’t want to be here.”
“I should have been here. I wish you’d called me.”
Maria leaned against her. “I want to be a doctor.”
Another thing she hadn’t known about her little sister.
“That’s pretty impressive.”
“I’m going to give the baby up for adoption.”
The words hung between them for several minutes. Maria remained quiet, her eyes closed, her breathing ragged. Lucy took a minute to process what her sister had told her because it felt as if she were trying to avoid land mines as she navigated the situation she’d walked into. When Aunt Essie had called and told her to come home, she hadn’t given the slightest bit of a hint to what Lucy was walking into. Lucy had convinced herself she was heading home to take care of livestock and nothing more.
“What about the father?” she asked belatedly.
Maria shrugged. “He told me he isn’t ready to be a dad. And I know he isn’t. Besides, he left last month. He joined the Army.”
“Whatever you decide about the baby, I’m here for you.” It was the only response that made any sense. Of course she would be there for her sister.
But she hadn’t been, had she? Guilt coiled around her heart, giving it a tight squeeze.
“Are you going to leave again?” Maria didn’t move; her head remained on Lucy’s shoulder. “I’m tired of being alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She glanced at her watch. “I take that back. I’m going to town. We need real food in this house and cleaning supplies.”
“Dane’s fence?” Maria reminded.
“I’ll take care of the fence.”
She had a list of things to take care of. Her sister, for now, was at the top of that list. She also needed to call Daron McKay and Boone Wilder, her partners in the bodyguard business and let them know she wouldn’t be back, not for a while. Maybe not ever.
That was the last thing she wanted to consider at this moment, that she might have to give up her career.
Maria gave her a quirky grin. “Dane Scott is yummy, thirty and single. If I was you, I’d take my time mending that fence.”
The only fence she and Dane Scott would be mending was the one Maria had driven the truck through. And when it was finished, he could stay on his side and she’d stay on hers. He was nothing more than a distraction and she didn’t like to be distracted.
* * *
Dane followed the Realtor, Jeff Owens, across the lawn. They’d driven most of the property, toured the barns, the stable and the house. The only thing left to do was sign on the dotted line. But when a man was signing a piece of paper that would effectively put not just a property but a family tradition up for sale, signing wasn’t an easy thing to do. He was a rancher. His parents, grandparents and great-grandparents had been ranchers.
Being a father, a good one, meant making sacrifices.
Haven, his sister, younger by three years, joined them. She studied him as he looked the paper over.
“You’re sure?” she asked as they leaned against Jeff Owens’s truck. The man was discreet. That was the reason for choosing him.
“If you are,” Dane answered. “It’s a family decision. You know that Mom and Dad are settled in Dallas. They have no intention of coming back. So that leaves it up to the two of us.”
“I know.” She shifted away, scanning the horizon, the land that belonged to them. “I know you have solid reasons for doing this. I know that I’m not here a lot. It just seems like we’re walking away from what our grandparents built.”
“I know.” He’d had the same thought too many times to count. That was why he hadn’t yet put his signature on the paper in front of him. “If it wasn’t for Issy...”
His daughter meant everything to him.
Haven touched his arm and gave a quick shake of her head. “Don’t ever apologize for doing what’s best for her.”
“Is it best?”
Jeff cleared his throat. “What about a three-month listing?”
Haven shrugged.
Dane glanced from his sister to the paper. A three month contract would give them the opportunity to sell. And the opportunity to make sure this was what they wanted.
“I think that would work. No signs. No listing it publicly. I don’t want our neighbors to know that the place is up for sale.”
“Discreet is my middle name. If I have buyers looking for a property that fits this description, I’ll call you.” Jeff pulled a briefcase out of his truck. “I have the paperwork we wrote up last week. I just need your signature.”
Dane accepted a pen and the contract, and after a deep breath and a prayer, he signed. Then Haven signed. It was done. Jeff shook their hands and left.
“I have to go. Issy and Lois are reading a book.” Haven glanced at her watch. “Lois is a gem.”
“I couldn’t do it without her,” Dane acknowledged. He started to walk away. “She’s going to be gone, what with her daughter having a baby. But Maria Palermo said she’d help out.”
“Maria is really good with her, Dane. Let her help.”
Let someone else into his daughter’s life. Yes, he knew that he needed to ease up a little. He had to trust people. He had to trust Issy. It was easy to say, but then he would remember how it had felt to hold his little girl at night while she cried for her mama. A mother who had walked away without a backward glance.
“Was that Lucy Palermo I saw sliding back into town?” Haven asked. He could hear the humor in her tone. Great that she thought it was amusing.
When a man put a woman at risk, he had a hard time recovering his sense of humor. He’d been too young to realize that their secret meetings would create such an uproar at the Palermo ranch. He hadn’t known how to handle it when she’d told him they were done, that she couldn’t see him anymore. After that she’d closed herself off from him and everyone else.
“Yeah, it was Lucy.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
He shrugged and managed a smile for his sister. “It’s okay. She’s here to take charge of Maria and the ranch.”
“She won’t stay long. She never does.”
No, she didn’t. He didn’t blame her.
“I’ve got to head to town and pick up some supplies I ordered from the feed store. Need anything?”
“No, nothing.” Haven glanced at her watch. “Pastor Matthews called. He’s putting together the groups that will help with the shelter renovation.”
“I’ll call him. Or stop by there. Tell Lois I won’t be gone long.”
The shelter. As he got in his truck he wondered if anyone had told Lucy what the new pastor had done with her father’s church.
Less than a half mile from his driveway he saw Lucy’s truck parked on the side of the road. She was in the ditch, pulling fence. She stopped, wiped her face with the bandanna tied around her neck and went back to work. She had to know he was there but she didn’t spare him a glance. He smiled. She’d always been so self-contained.
Except that summer thirteen years ago. It had all started when he saw her riding the back fence of the Palermo property. She was pretending to check fence but later she told him she’d just needed to get away from her dad so she’d offered to clean out the weeds along that fence. They’d been neighbors their whole lives but that summer something shifted. When he saw her on that horse, he saw a woman, not the little girl in raggedy clothes and pigtails he’d always known.
But she hadn’t been a woman. They’d both been kids. They hadn’t been mature enough to handle what they felt, or her home life.
He got out of his truck and joined her at the fence, pulling on gloves before grabbing the line of barbed wire she was stringing between new posts. She gave him a quick look but kept working.
“I told you I’d have a couple of my guys do this,” he said as they worked together.
“I told you I would do it myself.”
“Stubborn,” he said with a smile and some admiration.
“Yeah, you’ve said that before. So let’s not go back there.”
“Because you still won’t talk about it?” Suddenly he wished he’d taken her advice and let it go. There was no point in going back.
Lucy stopped working. She pulled off her gloves and shoved them in her pockets. “You were right. Let your guys fix this. I’ll cover the cost.”
She stomped away. He let her get a few feet ahead of him, then he followed. He didn’t really know when to quit. It was something his mom had been telling him for as long as he could remember.
“Lucy, wait.” He caught up with her on the shoulder of the road. “I’m sorry for pushing.”
“Good, so don’t do it again. I’m here to take care of my sister and to make things right on our ranch. I don’t have time for anything else. I don’t want anything else.”
That couldn’t be any clearer than the nose on his face. It was the same message she’d given him that long-ago summer.
“I understand.” He held out a gloved hand. She gave it a long look before accepting the gesture. “Friends?”
“Neighbors.” But she smiled as she said it.
Neighbors? He could handle that.
“How’s the bodyguard business?” he asked as they headed for their vehicles.
“Busy.” She folded her arms in front of herself. “Is this really what we’re going to do?”
“Safe conversation. Isn’t that what you want?” He should walk away. Because nothing felt safe with Lucy. But he kept going.
“Let’s stick to the weather.”
“Okay.” He glanced up at the blue sky. “I sure love spring but we need rain.”
She walked away from him but he saw a flash of a smile on her face. “I have to go.”
He debated telling her about the shelter—he didn’t want her to be blindsided. If she didn’t know about the church, she should.
“Lucy, they have a new pastor at the church. They’ve changed the name.”
She froze, her hand on the truck door. “Okay. Good to know.”
“It isn’t the same.” They both knew what that meant. Her dad had called it a church but it had been a cult. He’d controlled his flock, taken their money and left them empty and lost.
He’d done the most damage to his own family.
“I’m sure it’s not,” she answered.
“It’s a good place now. They’re starting a shelter for abused women.”
Women like the ones who had attended the church her father pastored. A church where men were encouraged to force their wives and children into submission.
“I’m glad to hear that,” she said with a catch in her voice.
He started to reach for her but he knew she wouldn’t welcome his touch. The very last thing he needed to be doing was building a connection. She was still broken. He had his own life now. He had a daughter who needed his full attention and he didn’t have time for relationships that were destined not to end well.
“You should stop by and see what they’re doing,” he suggested. “It might be good for you, to see it in a new light.”
“I’ll think about it. But you don’t know me well enough to give me advice.”
“I’m trying to be a friend,” he offered. “Sorry, a neighbor.”
She smiled, the gesture softening her features in a way he hadn’t expected. “Neighbors bring casseroles but they don’t pry.”
“This neighbor isn’t much of a cook,” he confessed.
“Really, Dane, thank you for telling me about the church. I’ve had enough surprises for one day.”
“You’re welcome.”
She glanced at her watch. “I have to get ready for dinner. Essie wants us to eat with her tonight.”
As he watched her drive away, he realized what Essie had done. Lucy was in for another surprise. One she probably wasn’t going to like.
Chapter Three (#u8a35d801-bbe0-5468-bc13-25b7475bf542)
Main Street Bluebonnet was busy for early evening. It took Lucy by surprise when she cruised down the two-block-long street that had once been the business district. The stores had long since been turned into antiques shops, flea markets and craft stores. Hadley’s Tea Room graced a corner building and the Bluebonnet B & B next door to it catered to tourists passing through Texas Hill Country.
Essie’s Diner was at the end of the two-block strip of businesses. It was next to the Farm and Feed Store, making the locals happy and the tourists charmed. The diner boasted a covered deck that overlooked the spring and the railroad tracks, where an occasional train rumbled along, blasting a horn that shook the tables.
New businesses, including a grocery store, clothing store and discount chain store, were located in a strip mall on the main road going through town.
Lucy parked up the street from the diner. She didn’t allow herself to glance down the side road. She didn’t want to lay eyes on her father’s church. Church of the Redeemed, he’d called it.
Maria reached for her door but stopped.
“Lucy, I think Essie is trying to drag you into something you aren’t going to like.”
“Is that a warning?” Lucy asked as she pulled the keys from the ignition.
“Yeah, it is. It’s Saturday night. Essie is closed on Saturdays.”
“Then why is everyone in town?” Apprehension grew in the pit of her stomach.
“The church,” Maria said. “It’s new. A community thing. People meet for dinner.”
“And you didn’t feel the need to tell me until now?”
As Maria opened her mouth to explain, Lucy held up a hand to stop her.
“Don’t worry about it. We’ve survived a lot. This is just stuff. We’re going in. We’ll have dinner with Essie. End of story.”
Maria’s features relaxed. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything, other than lure me here so you could have fried chicken.”
They walked the short distance to the diner, entering to find the tables filled and conversation buzzing. Essie hurried from table to table, barely pausing to give them a distracted smile as she refilled water glasses. There were people Lucy knew, quite a few that she didn’t.
A few of the locals glanced their way, quiet whispers following as they moved through the crowded dining room. Essie caught up with them.
“I have a table for you.” She pointed to a table marked with a reserved sign. There were six chairs and only one was taken. By old Chet Andrews, a local farmer who had never remarried after his wife of forty years passed away. And that had been a good twenty years ago. He was dapper, with his silver hair and silver mustache. He stood up as they approached and held out a chair for Maria.
“Hello, young ladies. What a fortunate man I am, to be able to share a table with the two of you.” Chet winked at Lucy as she sat across from him. “Lucy, I’m glad to see you back in Bluebonnet.”
“Thank you, Chet.” She reached for a menu but Maria shook her head. “No?”
Chet handed her a paper. She browsed it, her skin going clammy as she read. Essie had quietly moved away from their table.
The paper trembled in her hands as she read. The evening menu was catfish, hush puppies, fries and coleslaw. The profit from the sales would be given to the Bluebonnet Shelter for Abused Women and Children. Located in the Community Church building. No mention of the Church of the Redeemed. The irony hit her and she laughed a little. The place that had once hidden abuse now sheltered people from it. She knew that Essie had something to do with this. She’d bought the building. She’d closed down the church her nephew had started. She’d always told Lucy that she meant to use the building to rebuild lives, not to destroy them.
A man approached. He wore an open, friendly smile on his middle-aged face. His blond hair was thinning. Laugh lines crinkled at the corners of pale gray eyes.
“Ladies, mind if I sit with you for a few minutes?”
Maria cleared her throat. “Lucy, this is Pastor Matthews.”
He held out a hand to Lucy. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Duncan Matthews. Some of the residents prefer just to call me Preacher.”
She took his hand briefly. “Pleased to meet you.”
He sat down next to her. “I’m glad that the two of you are here to support us. That means the world to me, and to our ministry.”
“I’m not...” She started to reject the idea that she supported this ministry. A warm hand on her shoulder stopped her. She glanced up at her aunt. Essie smiled down, a gentle look in her dark eyes.
“It’s a good ministry, Lucy. I told you we would find a use for that building. Pastor Mathews also started the Community Helping Hands ministry. We have teams of people. Some fix meals, others do construction work on homes that need fixing up, some do lawn work. It’s a good thing. We were so glad that Duncan joined us in Bluebonnet.”
“It sounds as if the church is doing a lot for the community.” Lucy found the words, though her throat felt tight.
“We’re trying,” the pastor said. “And we’d love to have your help going forward.”
“My help?” She didn’t know what to say to that.
“We’re remodeling, as well as trying to help prepare the women to start new lives.”
“I see.”
“Come by and see what we’re doing.”
The guy didn’t back down. She gave him kudos for bravery. And with a tight smile she glanced away from the hopeful look on his face. Aunt Essie was there to distract her.
“I’ll bring you a fish dinner. And I have chicken, just for Maria.” Aunt Essie gave her shoulder a final pat.
Maria gave their aunt a wide smile. “Thanks, Aunt Essie.”
“Anything for you, kiddo.” And then she was gone.
“I’m going to step outside,” Lucy said to no one in particular.
“Lucy, don’t go.” Maria started to stand. Of course she would insist on following if she thought Lucy meant to leave.
Lucy touched her sister’s shoulder. “I’m not leaving. I just need some air. It’s crowded and warm in here.”
She smiled at Chet when he half stood. Quickly, ignoring people who called her name, she escaped the diner. Stepping out the side door, she inhaled the country air, a combination of spring grass, flowers and nearby farms.
She leaned against the side of the building, taking in deep breaths. Boots on the sidewalk pulled her from the quiet place where she’d found a sense of calm. She opened her eyes and groaned at the sight of the man approaching, a small child in his arms.
* * *
She stood against the building taking slow breaths. Her eyes were closed. She was whispering, counting, he thought. Dane paused, and when Issy started to speak he put a finger to her lips to quiet her. He waited a long minute as the woman standing there calmed herself, and then he took a step forward. She quickly jerked to attention and faced him.
He held up his free left hand. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“I wasn’t frightened.”
No, she probably wasn’t. But in that moment before she’d sensed him there, she’d looked like she was having a panic attack.
“Okay, not frightened,” he conceded. He didn’t know how to ask if she was okay, if she needed anything. A change of subject would probably be best. “Have you met my daughter, Isabelle?”
It worked. Lucy’s features softened the tiniest bit and a hint of a smile tugged at her lips.
“I haven’t. It’s good to meet you, Isabelle. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Issy, just three years old, never feared a situation or a stranger. She held out her little hand for Lucy and grinned. “Good to meet you. I like chocolate cake.”
Lucy chuckled, a little breathless. “Really? I think chocolate is my favorite, too.”
“Essie always has chocolate cake. Even if it isn’t my birthday.”
“Does she really? Then maybe we should go inside and have a piece of cake.”
“Dinner first,” Dane warned his daughter.
Issy frowned and let out a loud sigh. “Dinner first.”
“Are there empty chairs in there?” he asked Lucy.
“There are a few at our table.”
“Is that an invitation?” Dane teased.
“Not an invitation, just a fact. Don’t push it, Scott.”
“Back to a last name basis? And here I thought we were friends.”
A hint of a smile hovered on that wide, generous mouth of hers and she shook her head. “Neighbors.”
He reached past her to push the door open and she slid through but she didn’t walk away as he thought she might. Instead she walked just in front of him. If he was to guess, he thought she might need a friend. Even if she only wanted to call him a neighbor.
As she navigated the crowded café, he thought of the girl he’d known. She hadn’t been a typical teen girl, eager to be seen with him, talking of forever before they’d even had a chance to know each other. She’d always been self-contained, keeping her hopes and dreams to herself.
He’d wanted desperately to know what made her tick. And then he’d wanted to protect her. He’d failed miserably on both counts.
In his arms, Issy struggled, wanting down. He leaned in close. “It’s too crowded, honey.”
There were too many obstacles. Too many chairs, too many legs stretched, too many purses. Born two months premature, she’d lost her vision. It had been devastating to Dane and his wife. Issy didn’t know any different. She ran, she played and she chased kittens. She navigated the world with the bravery of a three-year-old.
They reached the table at the back of the room. Lucy pointed to the two remaining chairs. “I’m sure Essie reserved them for you.”
Of course Essie had planned those chairs for him. Right there, next to her niece. The older woman had been telling him for over a year now that someday he’d find someone. She’d told him to give God a chance. Up to now, her meddling had been harmless.
Lucy’s return to town had changed things. Essie was convinced everyone deserved a great love, the kind of love she’d shared with her husband. Dane didn’t want to hurt Essie’s feelings, but since his ex-wife left him, he wasn’t looking for that. She hadn’t been a partner in their marriage. She hadn’t been a mom to Issy. The day she walked out, she said she’d never planned on being tied down on a ranch and she hadn’t signed on to raise a child who was less than perfect.
He couldn’t think of that day, the way she’d blindsided him, without a big dose of anger washing over him.
Essie hurried their way, her attention immediately going to Issy. “I knew you would be here. You’ve done so much for the church, Dane. I wanted to make sure you had a seat. And, Miss Issy, I have chocolate cake.”
Dane arched a brow and Essie knew to avoid looking him in the eye. This seat had nothing to do with making sure he had a place, and everything to do with Lucy. His gaze focused on the woman standing several feet away, doing her best to ignore him.
“Don’t forget me, Essie.” Maria spoke up. She had a plate of chicken strips in front of her. “And if Issy doesn’t want fish, I have plenty of chicken. I don’t mind sharing.”
He set his daughter in the chair next to Maria. Issy immediately felt for the teen, putting a hand on her cheek, then pushing up to her knees so she could get a little closer to whisper, “I like ranch dressing.”
“I have it,” Maria whispered back, reaching for an extra plate. “I have fries, too.”
“And ketchup?” Issy patted the table and found a fork wrapped in a napkin. “Can I have chocolate milk, Miss Essie?”
Essie leaned to kiss the top of his daughter’s blond head. “You sure can, Issy girl. I’ll be right back. Lucy, why don’t you help me get drinks? Dane will want sweet tea. Chet, what can I get you?”
“I think I’ve had enough.” Chet leaned back and patted his rounded belly.
“Do you want pie?” Essie asked.
“Nope, can’t keep a figure like this by eating pie.”
Essie’s hands went to her hips. “Now what kind of nonsense is that, Chet Andrews? You’ve been eating my pie every day for as long as I can remember. And you haven’t been worrying about your boyish figure.”
Chet let out a long sigh. “Doc said I have to cut back on sugar.”
A waitress flitted past, saw Chet’s empty coffee cup and refilled it. Chet winked at her and reached for the sugar jar but Essie moved it away from him. The maneuver earned her a scowl from the older man.
Essie didn’t back down. She pointed a finger at Chet. “You put five spoons of sugar in every cup of coffee, old man. I guess it’s time you put a stop to that.”
“You’re a hard woman, Essie.” Chet lifted the cup in salute.
“Yes, well, I kind of like having you around. Even if you’ve never left more than a fifty-cent tip, you’re a good neighbor.”
Chet ignored her and sipped his coffee and grimaced. As he set the cup down he turned his attention to Lucy. “Are you back for good, Lucy?”
Dane watched her flick a glance in the direction of her younger sister, a hesitant look on her face. “I’m back for now.”
It wasn’t much of an answer. Not that it mattered to him. But it probably mattered a lot to her sister. A tug on his sleeve brought his attention back to the table. Issy’s small hand was on his arm and she leaned close.
“Do I get cake now?” she whispered.
“Yes, you get cake.” He kissed her cheek. “After you eat dinner.”
She came up on her knees, wobbling a bit on the seat. He steadied her, making sure she was firmly planted in the middle of the chair. “Daddy, is it a party?”
“Kind of.”
A hand reached past his shoulder. He glanced up as Lucy placed chocolate cake in front of his daughter. She leaned over, whispering in Issy’s ear that the cake was right in front of her. With a gentleness that belied her tense expression, Lucy guided his daughter to a fork and helped her locate the cake.
Lucy Palermo was an enigma. But then again, she wasn’t. There was a scar on her cheek, small and faded. She’d had that scar since the night her father caught them in town together. Another scar on her arm was more recent. He knew about the attack in Afghanistan.
There’d been years of abuse and no one in town had stepped in to stop it. His own family had been guilty of turning a blind eye to the problems on the ranch next door. His dad hadn’t wanted to get involved. His mom had commented that it was a shame and Mrs. Palermo should have taken the kids with her when she left.
Lucy started to step away but her gaze caught his. He schooled his features with an easy smile. Lucy froze, her dark eyes holding his captive. Finally she shook her head, as if shaking free from memories.
As she walked away he had an uncharacteristic thought, one that had nothing to do with the past and everything to do with the present. But their history belonged firmly in the past. It had been a summer romance that ended with casualties.
They were different people now. She had come home with more scars. He had his own scars and his own motivations for making wiser choices. They were both wounded, and in this situation two halves didn’t add up to a whole. Instead it would just be two broken people making a mess of not just their lives, but the lives of the people who counted on them.
But there were certain things he couldn’t deny. She still looked good in jeans. And she could still get his attention with a look.
Chapter Four (#u8a35d801-bbe0-5468-bc13-25b7475bf542)
Lucy walked down Main Street, enjoying the quiet spring morning. It was Monday and Bluebonnet was peaceful, with few cars parked along the narrow street and businesses just opening up. She stopped in front of Lawson’s Five and Dime. The department store had been a mainstay in this tiny town since the early 1900s, and it had been a mainstay in Lucy’s life for as long as she could remember. Mrs. Lawson, the fourth Mrs. Lawson to stand behind the counter of the store with free gum for every child, had been a favorite of Lucy’s.
Harriet Lawson had attended the Church of the Redeemed. But she hadn’t stayed long. She’d stood up to Jesse Palermo, calling him out for his treatment of his family.
Saturday evening at the diner she’d given a moving speech about the new Community Church and shelter, talking about lives being changed for the better and women finding freedom from abuse. The irony hadn’t been lost on Lucy. A church that had once destroyed was now in the business of rebuilding.
A movement inside the building caught her attention. She saw Mrs. Lawson move through the shop. The older woman waved and smiled big as she hurried toward the door, waving keys in silent communication. Lucy hadn’t planned on talking. She’d just been lost in thought and she’d stood there too long.
Keys turned in the lock and the door opened. Mrs. Lawson, short dark hair, an apron over her jeans and T-shirt, stepped out on the sidewalk and pulled her into a hug that Lucy had no way to pull free from.
“Lucy Palermo, it’s so good to see you back in town. And I was so thrilled to see you at the dinner Saturday evening.” She let go and stepped back from the hug. “Come inside. I just put on a pot of coffee.”
Lucy glanced around. “I just had breakfast at Essie’s.”
“Oh, come on. You aren’t here by chance. You have questions.”
Did she?
Mrs. Lawson motioned her inside the store. Lucy followed and she couldn’t help but inhale the familiar scent of polished wood, the favorite perfumes of every woman in town, and something distinctly cinnamon.
The aisles were still crowded, the lights were still too dim, and because she’d grown up, the store seemed smaller than it had to the little girl Lucy had once been. She followed Mrs. Lawson down one of those narrow aisles cluttered with dishes that had been on sale since Lucy’s childhood. No one seemed to want the harvest gold ceramic ware.
Lucy could smell freshly brewed coffee. Mrs. Lawson motioned her inside an office with dark green furniture and a ceiling fan that clicked as it circulated stale air.
“Have a seat.” She pointed to a chair. “Sugar in your coffee? And I have snickerdoodles. I know they’re not an acceptable breakfast food but I baked them for the ladies at the shelter and couldn’t resist.”
“Black coffee and I’d love a cookie.” She didn’t really want to talk about the shelter. She knew it was coming, though. Mrs. Lawson was giving her those quick, covert looks, as if she expected her to bolt any second.
Once they had their coffee, Mrs. Lawson settled herself at the desk. She finished off a cookie, wiping crumbs from the front of her shirt, and then she settled her well-meaning gaze on Lucy.
“You’ve done well for yourself,” Mrs. Lawson said. “I always worried about you kids. I should have done more after I left the church but I just didn’t know what to do. When your mom left, I thought she’d take you kids with her. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when she didn’t.”
“Water under the bridge,” Lucy said. She eyed the exit, wishing she could escape the store and this conversation. Who would stop her?
Mrs. Lawson reached out, as if she meant to stop her. But she drew her hand back and settled in her chair.
She reached for another cookie. “Lucy, I don’t have a right to give you advice. Except that I feel somewhat responsible. In the beginning we followed your father and his teachings. I’m not sure how we were so gullible. I look back and can’t fathom that I would be pulled in to something so wrong. But it was wrong. It was destructive. It left people shattered. Including you kids. That’s one reason we’re all so thankful for Pastor Matthews and his vision for that church. The new ministry helps people escape abusive situations. It lifts people up, the way God intended. I’d like for you to visit because I want you to experience God and not the false gospel your father preached.”
Lucy set her coffee cup on the desk and stood to go. But she wouldn’t walk away angry, because Mrs. Lawson had the best intentions. She knew, better than anyone, what the Palermos had been through. She’d been through it, too.
“Lucy, I’m sorry. I guess I’ve overstepped.”
“No, you didn’t. I know you mean to help. I know the new church is trying to do the same. But I’m not here to be a part of this church. I’m not even planning to stay in Bluebonnet.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But I hope you’ll at least stop by the church.”
Lucy paused at the door. “I appreciate you talking to me. And I will stop by the church.”
She left the five-and-dime and headed for her truck, done with town, with well-meaning friends, with long, questioning looks from locals who weren’t sure about her.
As she headed out of town, she took a right turn. She hadn’t really planned to go by the church but curiosity was stronger than her best intentions. She wanted to see what had happened to the building, the ministry and the people she had known. Mrs. Lawson was an example of people who had moved on. They hadn’t allowed her father’s ministry to determine their future. Or they had, but in a positive way. They were giving back rather than holding themselves back.
Lucy had always held herself back, except for that one summer with Dane when she’d really allowed herself to feel. She’d always been an outsider, the child on the edge of the playground, the adult at the edge of social groups. She’d been trained from early on not to talk, not to share, to let no one in. She realized now that her father had done that to them, not to protect them, but to protect himself.
The church building was L shaped. There was the main sanctuary with a bell tower. The double doors of the vestibule faced the street. A wing added on when she was a child was attached to the back of the main sanctuary. As she pulled up there were a few women working in the flower gardens. A man on a ladder was repairing roof gutters.
Suddenly the women stopped working. They watched her as she pulled into a parking space. She couldn’t see their expressions but from their body language she knew they were nervous, maybe fearful. One of the ladies ran back inside, using the side door of the building. The man on the ladder descended.
An old beat-up truck pulled in next to hers. The man getting out was thin. His hair was shoulder length. He hadn’t shaved in a while but the beard didn’t hide the pasty complexion of a drug addict or the scars on his face.
He approached the man who had gotten off the ladder. She recognized him from the benefit at Essie’s. Pastor Matthews didn’t look like a man who backed down easily. He also didn’t appear to need her help. But she got out of her truck and headed his way, anyway.
“I’m here to get my wife,” the newcomer shouted. He headed past the pastor but a shoulder check kept him from getting too far.
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Pastor Matthews said with a semblance of gentility.
“My wife is here with my kid and I want her to come home.”
“Sir, I’m sorry but you’ll have to leave. If you have a wife who wants to come home, I’m sure she’ll get in touch with you.”
“Willa, get out here! Get Seth. We’re going home. Come on now, honey. You know I didn’t mean to hit you.”
Lucy shook her head. She’d heard that too many times in her life. She could hear her father’s voice, telling her if she’d just done what she knew was right, he wouldn’t have had to hit her.
It had always been her fault, her mom’s fault, the fault of her brothers. Jesse Palermo had never once meant he was sorry for his behavior. He’d only been sorry they hadn’t lived up to his standards.
“What are you looking at?” the man shouted, his attention now on Lucy.
She shrugged. “Not much.”
With a growl, he came at her. Maybe that’s what she’d wanted, to show him that not all women could be beat down. As he charged her, she readied herself, focusing, then struck out. With two moves she had him pinned to the ground, begging for mercy, then threatening to get her for this. She smiled and asked him how he planned on doing that.
Pastor Matthews put a hand on her shoulder. “I think you can let him go.” He leaned over to look at the man on the ground. “You’re going to go home now. Correct?”
“Yeah, I’ll leave. But Willa is going to come home with me.”
“I don’t think she wants to.”
“No, I’ll go.” A quiet voice came from behind Lucy.
Lucy released the man. She stood to face the petite young woman, a toddler in her arms. She still wore the black eye she’d probably gotten from her husband.
“Don’t.”
Willa shrugged. “He’s my man.”
“He isn’t a man,” Lucy responded, giving him a look. “Real men don’t hit women.”
“I’ll show you a real man.” He came at her again but Lucy held a hand up and at least he had the good sense to know this wasn’t a fight he would win.
“Willa, please think about the safety of your child.” It wasn’t any of Lucy’s business.
But isn’t that what people had probably said about her family? For years no one had gotten involved. Every now and then a teacher had questioned a mark or a bruise. She’d always had an explanation. She’d been breaking a horse, fixing fence, working on the barn. This woman probably had plenty of excuses, too.
“He won’t hurt us anymore. You’re sorry, ain’t you, Johnny?”
Johnny shot her a pleased look and moved in next to her. “You know I am, Willa. Sometimes you just don’t know when to shut up and you make me so mad. But we’re better now, aren’t we?”
Willa nodded her head and Johnny put an arm around her and headed her toward the truck. Lucy took a step after them but a hand on her arm stopped her.
“You can’t make them stay.” Pastor Matthews spoke quietly, words of reason she wanted to deny. She wanted to make Willa stay.
“No, you can’t,” she agreed as she watched Johnny help Willa and his son into the truck.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” the pastor said as they watched the truck ease down the driveway. Once it hit the road, Johnny gunned the engine and flew past the church, honking the horn and yelling.
“You invited me to come take a look,” she said. He had issued the invitation at the diner on Saturday.
“Yes, I did.” He motioned toward the building. “I’ll give you a tour. And maybe you’ll decide to do more than look. We can always use an extra hand around here. We definitely don’t have anyone who can deliver a right punch the way you just did.”
She looked up, saw humor in his expression and relaxed a bit. “I do have an unusual skill set. But I’m not here because I want to volunteer.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
“Yes, I do.”
“So we’ll start with a tour?”
She studied the building, seeing so much of the past but seeing the new, as well. A coward would make excuses. She had to get home. There were fences to fix. She had a sister who probably wondered where she’d gone. But deep down she knew she needed to face this building. She had to face her past.
She would walk through the building, compliment what they were trying to do and never return.
They started in the sanctuary. The carpet had been pulled up and old hardwood floors refinished. The pews were new. The pulpit her father had stood behind was gone. Sunlight filtered through amber-colored windows, bathing the sanctuary in golden warmth. She could hear hammering at the back of the church and the hum of conversation from behind the building.
She could also hear her father’s words, taking well-known Bible verses and bending them to his will and purpose. Women should be quiet. Children should obey. Always used as an excuse to keep them in line, to beat them into submission.
The twins. Her brothers. She smiled, thinking of the difficulty their father’d had trying to bend their will to his. The more he beat them, the more determined they were to oppose him.
Lucy was the opposite. She’d built a shell, remained quiet, took the abuse until she could leave.
A hand touched her arm. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, aware that she had half hugged herself as she stood there staring up at the pulpit. Words can never hurt you. She reminded herself of the old adage, meant to keep children from being hurt by bullies.
Words. Words took pieces from an already-broken heart, ripped at a wounded soul and left scars no one could see.
Words would always hurt.
Her vision narrowed as she took another deep breath.
“I have to go.”
Pastor Matthews offered her a grim smile. “Too much?”
She focused her sight on the door, her escape route. Always know where the exits are, a safety tip they stressed in their bodyguard business. “I think so. I do appreciate what you’re trying to do here.”
“If you need us, we’re here.”
“I’m good but thank you.” Her vision clouded as she hurried through those double doors at the front of the church.
She ran straight into Dane Scott as he was coming up the steps of the church. “Whoa.”
His hands steadied her.
She blinked back tears. She didn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry. Instead she brushed off his hands and kept walking. If she had any sense left at all she would get in her truck and head back to Austin and a job that would keep her mind busy.
She stopped midway to her truck, bending at the waist, taking deep breaths to ease the tension in her lungs. A hand on her back rubbed slow circles. She shook her head but he wouldn’t leave. Why wouldn’t he leave?
“Take slow breaths.” His voice rumbled close to her ear.
“Go away,” she rasped out, trying but not quite managing to sound like herself.
He laughed. “That’s the Lucy we all know and love.”
“Take a hike, Scott.”
“Right. As soon as I make sure you’re not going to pass out on the church steps.”
She stiffened beneath his touch. “I don’t pass out.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“Neighbors don’t get in a person’s business. You are getting in my business.” She still couldn’t look at him.
“Yeah, I guess that must mean we’re friends. Everyone needs friends.” He stood close, his shoulder against hers. She’d felt chilled but his nearness brought a warmth. Someone recently had told her everyone needed human touch. Of course she’d debated the fact.
“I have friends,” she argued. She nearly thanked him for the disagreement. Anything to take her mind off the panic that had edged in.
“Look, if it makes you happy, I’m not thrilled with the idea of friendship. Really. You’re not pleasant. You rarely stick around. Not exactly the best qualities in a friend. But here we are.”
“You obviously can’t take a hint.”
“Rarely,” he said in a teasing voice that made her smile. Not a full smile, though. She wouldn’t give him that.
Instead she moved away from his hand that was all too comforting. “I have to go.”
“Of course you do.”
She faced him, noticing the teasing glint in his too-blue eyes.
“I think I’ve proven that I’m not quite ready to go in there. And seriously, Dane Scott, if this gets out, I’m coming after you.”
“You mean if people find out you’re human?” He winked. “We wouldn’t want the whole world to know that, would we?”
“No, we wouldn’t. I’ve worked hard at...” What had she meant to say? And why was she saying anything to him? Because he was easy to talk to, she remembered. She’d made that discovery at sixteen, telling him everything she’d never planned on telling anyone. “I’ve worked hard at letting go and moving on.”
The teasing glint faded from his eyes and was replaced with something softer, warmer. “Sometimes facing our fears makes us stronger.”
She wanted to hurt him. Really, was he going to be tender? Like she was his young daughter waking up from a bad dream?
She didn’t want tenderness. Or sympathy. She backed away from him. “Fine, I’ll go back inside. But I don’t need you there to hold my hand.”
He held up both hands. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Friend.”
“Neighbor,” she mumbled as she walked away.
* * *
Dane followed Lucy inside the church. He shouldn’t have. He should have gotten back to work. He was planning on replacing light fixtures in the dorms that had been created in the old Sunday school rooms. Instead he walked behind her, ignoring the tense set of her shoulders and the fact that she didn’t want him along for this journey.
He couldn’t stop himself, though. Even with her quills up, Lucy had an easy way about her. She had a sense of humor, an easy smile, and she was kind. They were parts of her personality she didn’t seem comfortable with. He shouldn’t be comfortable with them, either, because those parts drew him to her, and that was the last thing he needed.
“Stop thinking about me.” She shot the comment over her shoulder as she walked through the kitchen. “I’m not a project. I don’t need to be fixed. Go do whatever good deed you were going to do here today, Dane.”
He stepped next to her as she stood, surveying the homey kitchen Pastor Matthews and his wife, Amy, had created in this church. “I’m replacing light fixtures and repairing some sockets. You’re not on my ‘to do’ list.”
“Thank goodness for that,” she said as she kept walking. “The kitchen is nice.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I’m glad this church is being used this way. Definitely not what my father would have wanted.”
“It’s a good ministry and they are having some success helping women to get out of abusive situations. They also try to find counseling for the husbands.”
“There are always going to be women who won’t walk away from the abuse.”
“That’s true,” he stated.
“Life doesn’t come with guarantees. Or maybe there is one. We all have our baggage. You included.” She shot him a look.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Me included.”
“Issy’s mom?”
“She left when Issy was a year old. Fortunately my daughter won’t remember her mother walking out on us.”
“No, she won’t. But you will.” She stopped and faced him. “She has you, Dane. That’s more than a lot of kids have.”
“Yeah, she has me.” But that hadn’t been the plan. He’d considered himself a part of a couple. Only to learn he wasn’t, and now he was a single dad.
He led her to the nursery that also served as a makeshift day care. There were two little girls playing with blocks as one of the older church members, Mrs. Gilly, watched over them.
“Their moms either have jobs or are out finding jobs, if they can,” Dane explained to Lucy as she glanced around the brightly painted room. “Ladies from church volunteer to watch their children.”
She watched the children play, tossed a quick nod to Mrs. Gilly, then she left. Dane followed her into the hall and didn’t ask if she was okay. He already knew the answer and knew she wouldn’t want to admit out loud that she felt as if she was coming apart on the inside.
He led her down the hall to the living area. It was empty other than a big gray cat sprawled on the window seat. She approached the long-haired feline and, with her gaze focused on a distant hill, she ran a hand down the animal’s back.
“I should go now. Maria will wonder if I’ve left the county.” She glanced back at him. “With good reason. Since I’ve done it before. And since our mother does it on a regular basis.”
“I think you had good reason for leaving,” he offered.
The cat stood, stretched and brushed against her hand. “Maybe, but now I need to be here. Did you ever consider leaving?”
“I went to college, got a degree and came home to run the ranch. My folks moved to Dallas soon after. Dad has Parkinson’s.”
She nodded, because of course she knew all of that. “I’m not sure why we keep our ranch,” she admitted with a slight shrug. Then she headed for the door that led outside and he followed. “Mom obviously doesn’t want it. The boys are too busy riding bulls. I haven’t wanted to be here.”
“The twins will grow up, and then they’ll feel differently. You might feel differently.”
The sun beat down on them as they stood on the patio. It was May and it was already miserably hot. The woman standing next to him didn’t seem to notice. She pushed the sunglasses off the top of her head and positioned them to cover her eyes.
“Yes, maybe I’ll feel differently someday.” Lucy glanced at her watch. “I have to go. Thank you for the tour.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll walk you to your truck.”
She gave him a hard stare. “I don’t need an escort to my truck.”
“No, you don’t. I offered because I want to walk you to your truck.”
She pulled back a bit, and he knew he’d messed up.
“No,” she repeated. “I appreciate the tour and it was nice to catch up.”
He got it. She was giving him the brush-off. “Lucy, you don’t have to worry. I’m not looking to start anything.”

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