Montana Mistletoe Page 13

  A woman in high heels instead of Western boots would never be the right fit for his life.

  “I’m sorry, Maura. Excuse me.” He took a step around her and headed toward Abby and the girls. “So how was Sunday School?”

  Sophie looked up at him. “We got a cupcake. And juice.”

  “And pages to color,” Bella added. “And we heard a story about Baby Jesus coming soon. It was fun.”

  “Good. I’m glad.” He gave Trace a long, level look. “How are things with your wife and kids?”

  “Fine, fine...” The other man glanced between Jess and Abby, then backed away. “Excuse me. I suppose I’d better round them up before the service starts.”

  Abby choked back a laugh. “Did you just intimidate that man somehow?”

  Jess shrugged. “What did I say?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Funny, but I thought I just saw a death glare, though I’m not sure why. He was only telling me an amusing story about Pine Bend. Anyway, it looked like you and Maura were having a nice conversation. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  “Like Trace just said, he’s a family man. But he still has an eye for any pretty lady who crosses his path...just so you know.”

  “And I think Maura still has an eye for you,” Abby teased lightly. “If I’m not mistaken.”

  “She’s a good person and deserves to find the right man someday,” Jess said in a low voice so no one else would hear. “Though that guy just isn’t me. I think she knows it and is just too stubborn to admit it.”

  The initial notes of “Beautiful Savior” drifted from the sanctuary and the few stragglers chatting in the entryway started heading to the pews.

  Jess ushered the twins and Abby to the usual Langford spot on the left, halfway down, where Betty had already taken a seat.

  They’d missed church last Sunday because the girls were ill, and the weekend before they had been snowed in, so few of these folks had seen Abby around town. Now, from the corner of his eye, he saw the curious glances and heard whispers travel through the pews.

  Some of them might’ve known her family and maybe even recognized her from years ago, while others were too new to the area. But—typical small town—everyone seemed to find her arrival fascinating.

  He didn’t blame them a bit.

  With that cascade of wavy blond hair and her shimmering blouse, she looked as out of place as a pretty little Arabian filly in a pen of Brahman bulls.

  Bella and Sophie usually sat on either side of Betty during church services. But today they were nestled close to Abby’s sides.

  How she’d won them over he wasn’t sure, but the maternal way she curved her arms around them to draw them closer captivated him...

  And also made him think about his worries.

  He hadn’t heard anything more from Lindsey, and he had no way of contacting her. Before Christmas, she’d said. Was she already on her way to Montana? Had she changed her mind? Or did she plan to swoop into town and whisk the twins back to California over the holidays? And why didn’t she call to let him know her current plans?

  He forced his gaze to the front of the church when Pastor Bob began his sermon on prayer, wishing his own prayers could be answered. Wishing he knew what to ask for.

  Pastor Bob’s voice rang through the church with power and conviction, drawing Jess’s attention back to the sermon. “...from Philippians Chapter Four, we read ‘...in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.’”

  Jess closed his eyes. Offered up a prayer for the best possible future for Lindsey and her girls—whatever that might be.

  And then prayed that God was listening.

  * * *

  Walking into the Pine Bend Community Church was like stepping back in time, Abby thought as the sermon ended.

  The soaring white steeple still stood tall and determined against the wild, powerful forces of nature with the mountains close by.

  The dozen stained-glass windows had always been Abby’s favorite part of this beautiful building. As a child, she’d loved to gaze at the brilliant colors and Bible scenes each one depicted.

  Savoring the warmth of the little girls snuggled against her, she breathed in the scents of the candles on the altar and the matching bouquets on either side. The fragrance of those lilies, roses and carnations brought back a flood of memories from her youth. Funerals. The day of her confirmation. The weddings of relatives and family friends, with her always sitting between her parents.

  At least until Mom had abruptly decided she’d had it with Dad, ranch life and Montana and taken off for Omaha.

  With a start, Abby realized that everyone was standing up to leave.

  A frown furrowed Sophie’s forehead as she stared at something on the other side of the sanctuary, then pointed. “Abby! It’s the sparkly lady. See?”

  “Shhhh, Sophie. Not so loud,” Abby whispered. “We need to be polite.”

  “But—”

  Abby turned to discreetly look in the direction the child was pointing and found her gaze colliding with Darla’s. Even from across the room, it was obvious that the poor woman had overheard Sophie. Her cheeks were bright red, and she looked mortified. Abby’s father was nowhere in sight.

  Abby looked over her shoulder at Betty. “Can you keep an eye on the girls? I need to do some damage control before it’s too late.”

  Darla quickly gathered her silver coat and matching bag and headed down the far aisle, her head down. Abby skirted the crowd and caught up with her just before she slipped out a side door.

  “Darla—please wait.”

  Darla pulled open the door to leave but stopped when Abby touched her arm. “What do you want?”

  “I—I’m so glad to see you. I’ve been hoping I’d have a chance to chat with you sometime, and here you are.”

  There were still bright flags of color on Darla’s cheekbones, and she lifted her chin with a touch of defiance in her eyes. “Well?”

  “I’ve been working at the Langfords’ ranch, and I’m not sure if you heard one of the little girls speak too loudly a few minutes ago, but she adores your beautiful coat. I think it’s beautiful, too, but I just hope you weren’t offended by her remark.”

  The defiance in Darla’s eyes didn’t waver. “I hear you talked to Don last week.”

  “I’ve missed my dad, Darla. I wasn’t able to get back here for several years because my husband was ill, and I’ve wanted to make up for lost time.” Abby hesitated, searching for the right words. “When I heard he’d suddenly gone off to Vegas to get married, I’ll admit I was worried. It didn’t sound like the Dad I knew.”

  Darla froze, and in that moment she seemed like something made of spun glass that could shatter at the slightest touch. “I know what people think.” Her brittle voice was cold as ice. “I see them giving me the side-eye when I pass. And I hear what they all say about me. I’m not stupid.”

  Please, Lord, help me get this right.

  “I’m not judging you, Darla. Or my dad. I have no right to do that. And no one else does either.” Abby took a deep breath. “He told me that things haven’t always been easy in your life. And he said that until you came along, he figured he’d be alone and lonely until he died. I think you’ve brought him a lot of happiness. And if you’re both happy, that’s what counts.”

  Darla didn’t answer, but her hard mask seemed to slip a little, and in that moment Abby’s heart ached for the lonely, vulnerable woman she glimpsed inside.

  Abby heard the thunder of little feet behind her and bit back a smile as the girls reached her and tugged on her coat.

  “Uncle Jess and Gramma are in the car, Abby. Waiting right outside.”

  Abby rested her hands on their shoulder
s. “The twins are Bella and Sophie, and I have the great pleasure of taking care of them. Girls, can you say hi to Mrs. Peterson? She’s newly married to my father.”

  The girls mumbled a greeting, then raced back to the main door of the church. “Sorry about that. And now I suppose I’d better catch up before I get left behind.”

  Darla nodded.

  “Dad did ask you about Thanksgiving, right? I’d love if you two could come. We’d have a lot more time to visit, and you wouldn’t have to make Thanksgiving dinner for just two—or three, if your daughter is with you. She’s welcome, too.”

  Darla hesitated, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. That’s your family.”

  “Well, it’s not my family either—I’m just the hired help. And it’s not going to be a crowd. Just the four Langfords, a ranch hand and me. That’s only six, so it would be great to have two more. Please?”

  Darla’s expression wavered, then her mouth hardened. “No. Thanks all the same.”

  “The people around here haven’t had a chance to get to know you, but I think Betty and I can change that. Things could be different for you here, I promise.”

  Darla gave a single shake of her head, but as she turned to go, Abby thought she saw a tear start to fall down her cheek.

  Abby looked back to the altar, then lifted her gaze to the beautiful stained-glass window above it, which depicted Jesus and his lambs. Lord, I think I was meant to see her here today. I know she’s hurting. I promise You, I won’t give up on her...and I’m going to make things right before I leave.

  Chapter Seventeen

  On Monday afternoon the temperature was even warmer than the day before, and felt like a bit of spring, though Abby wasn’t fooled. With Thanksgiving just a few days away there were a lot of winter months ahead, and she’d seen blizzards hitting as late as April.

  She finished saddling Lollipops and studied the haphazard braids the girls were attempting with his thick white mane. “You two are doing a fine job,” she announced. “And this is one very patient pony. Do you think he likes being pretty?”

  “He’s sure not as pretty as you.” Phil stopped so close to her that she could smell the tobacco on his breath and see the red capillaries in his eyes.

  A shudder rolled down her spine.

  The sensual slide to Phil’s Southern drawl was absent if Jess was near, and always just subtle enough that it could almost be missed, but she heard it loud and clear. Every single time.

  He’d been here seven days now. He hadn’t made a single inappropriate, physical move. Yet he always seemed to invade her space and even the simplest words out of his mouth sounded suggestive, somehow.

  But as much as his frequent, looming presence bothered her, what could she say to Jess? That the man stood a little too close? That he complimented her?

  Alan had never believed her when she’d had trouble with a principal at school, and that man had been far more blatant. She could hardly expect Jess to fire Phil over something so trivial—not when his help was so badly needed. Whatever else she thought about him, Phil was a hard worker. Already Jess seemed less stressed at the end of each day.

  “We’ll get out of your way,” she said stiffly as she unsnapped the cross ties, slipped off Lollipops’s halter and bridled him. “Come on, girls.”

  “I’ll be happy to help you out anytime, ma’am,” he called out after her. “You just say the word.”

  Abby herded the girls down the aisle ahead of her and led the pony into the indoor arena. “It’s Sophie’s turn to go first, Bella. Do you want to see if you can find the kittens in the hay?”

  The heated building was a hundred by two-hundred feet, with the actual working arena fenced off to allow for two risers of bleachers along one side, space at one end for hay storage and a path around the entire arena for foot traffic.

  Bella ran over to the hay and several calico kittens promptly popped out of their hiding places between the bales to greet her.

  Keeping one eye on her, Abby led Sophie around the arena twice. “Are you ready to go by yourself?”

  Sophie nodded, her expression serious.

  Abby unhooked the lead rope and handed her the reins. “Remember, he’s lazy.”

  Sophie wiggled her boots against his wooly winter coat, nudging him with her heels.

  “Harder, Sophie. You can do it!”

  “I think I like petting better than riding,” she said with a glum voice. “He doesn’t want to go.”

  Abby took hold of Lollipops’s reins by the bit and tugged until he started walking forward, then she backed away. “Remember, keep him going,” she called out. “Thatta girl!”

  Lollipops made it halfway around the arena before stopping by the gate—where he apparently assumed he could leave and go back to his stall. Abby ran over to help get him going again, then stayed by the gate for the next go-round when the pony would surely try that ploy once again.

  “There you go, sweetie. You’re doing great!”

  Sophie cast a proud, shy smile at Abby, then concentrated on making the pony walk. When they approached the gate the next time around she thumped him harder with her heels, and Lollipops broke into a trot for a few strides.

  Sophie giggled. “He’s a good boy today,” she cried. “I made him run!”

  Abby smothered a smile as she thumped her palm on the pony’s fluffy rear end to keep him going. “That was a trot, and you did a super good job at it. Uncle Jess will be so proud.”

  After another fifteen minutes Bella had her turn, and Lollipops clearly sensed a more dominant rider on his back because he didn’t try to stop and he even trotted all the way around the arena. Once.

  Abby leaned against the fence and watched her progress. Behind her, she heard the sliding door open and even without turning, she sensed that it was Jess. “The girls are doing very well, though I see what you mean about looking for a different pony.”

  Jess came up beside her and hooked one of his boots on the lowest bar of the pipe fence, then braced his hands on the top bar to watch Bella. “I’m glad you’re getting the girls out here to ride after school. Do you think they’ll remember this if they move away?”

  She heard a slight catch in his voice. “I think they would remember a lot. What little girl doesn’t dream of having horses and ponies? Just take lots of pictures and send them home with albums of their life here. They won’t forget. But you don’t know for sure that they’re leaving. Right?”

  He turned to look at her. “I can’t stop watching the days tick by and wondering if Lindsey is going to show up or not. If she does, I hope she’ll be willing to at least let them come for visits over the summer. Holidays. Any time she’d be willing to send them or even come along.”

  “I hope so, too.”

  “And what about you?”

  “Me?”

  “If you’re in graduate school next year, could you come back for the summer?” he teased. “I promise I’ll have enough ponies for everyone.”

  “That entirely depends on the pony.” She gave him a playful nudge with her shoulder and tipped her head toward Lollipops, who was now at a dead stop in the center of the arena. “I guess I’d rather have your horse. Bart.”

  They turned back to watching Bella, who finally got the pony moving again. Jess draped his arm casually across Abby’s shoulders, just as he had years ago. “It’s a good life out here. Do you ever miss it?”

  The warmth of his arm around her seemed to rocket straight to her heart, and it took a while to find her voice.

  Longer, to find the right words.

  She’d missed him for years after she left Montana, especially after she and Alan drifted apart. “Ranch country is in my blood, and seeing the Rockies on the horizon every day feels like home. I missed that while I was in Chicago. Very much.”

  It felt so right, standing so close to Jess
with his arm around her. It felt like the old days and like new possibilities, and she could no longer deny to herself that maybe she’d never really fallen out of love with him.

  But she’d seen him with Maura at church yesterday. Her light kiss. The intimate way she’d held his arm. Jess was the most honest man Abby had ever known, and she believed him when he said that relationship was over. But it sure hadn’t looked like Maura thought so.

  So whether Abby was falling in love with Jess again or had never stopped, it didn’t really matter. Maura would be around long after Abby had to leave, and the woman clearly didn’t plan to give up.

  * * *

  Abby pulled the heavy cast-iron Dutch oven out of the oven and settled it on a hot pad. The aroma of roasted chicken wafted into the room when she lifted the lid to check on it.

  Satisfied, she put the lid back on and slid a pan of homemade cheddar biscuits into the oven. Then looked over at Betty, who was placing romaine lettuce in the salad spinner. “I’m impressed, Betty. You’re doing really well with your new cane.”

  “About time,” Betty grumbled. “This morning I told the physical therapist that the walker was getting in my way, and she finally gave in. How could I help you with Thanksgiving dinner pushing that contraption around?”

  “About Thanksgiving,” Abby said with a warning look, “I don’t want you to work too hard.”

  Betty frowned. “I’ve been making Thanksgiving dinner since I was in high school, and I’m not stopping now.”

  “No—of course not. But there’s two of us cooking this year, and I thought we could start some of the food Wednesday, so it wouldn’t be such a last-minute rush for either of us.”

  “How are we going to do that and still have everything fresh and tasty?”

  “Maybe do the pies and cranberry sauce? We could even make and freeze our dinner rolls.”

  “Hmm.” Betty took a quick survey of the kitchen. “I’ll go call the girls for supper. By the way—I saw your dad and his wife at the clinic, and he said to count on them for Thanksgiving. His wife looked like she’d just eaten a whole dill pickle when he said it, though.”