Lone Star Blessings

Their neighborhood was one of the oldest in Rosewood, and Main Street was barely six blocks over. Since Rosewood had been settled in the nineteenth century, many of the houses were Victorian. Not being a planned community, small houses often flanked larger, more ornate ones. The oak and elm trees were old, tall and broad, lining the streets and sidewalks. As they walked the few blocks toward church, the scent of late-blooming roses infused the air. Most of the century-old bushes should have been long dormant, but the mild Hill Country weather allowed a long season.

Tucker and Alyssa weren’t the only ones walking to church. Most of their neighbors chose to leave their cars home on clear Sundays. They’d covered one block when Alyssa tugged on his sleeve. “Look, Dad.”

Some woman was trying to back over the stone curb with a man in a wheelchair. He had only a rear view of them, but he could see they were having trouble. Tucker hastened his gait. “Whoa! Let me give you a hand.”

The woman muttered something that he couldn’t quite make out. When he reached them, she turned her head. It was her.

“I’ll ease the chair over the curb, if you’ll watch the leg rests,” Tucker offered.

“Thank you.” Kate gritted the words out through clenched teeth as she tugged on the handles again, making no progress. “It seems stuck.”

She was as cordial as he remembered. Having seen her at the hospital, he assumed she must be some sort of health worker—which made sense, seeing her now.

Once the chair cleared the curb, Tucker turned it toward the church. “I’m guessing you’re headed this way.”

“Thanks.” The older man sounded greatly relieved. “I’m Marvin Lambert.”

“Tucker Grey.” He extended his hand, surprised by the strong shake from the older man. “And, this is my daughter, Alyssa. I don’t think I’ve met you.”

Alyssa waved at them both.

“I retired here about a year and a half ago.” Marvin gestured to the chair. “And, I’m not getting out as much these days.” He pointed to the woman. “This is my daughter, Kate.”

The name clicked and he made the connection. Nodding to her, Tucker grasped the handles of the chair. “I recommend you stay on the street side instead of the sidewalk, sir.”

“Marvin.”

“Agreed.” Tucker ignored Kate’s startled expression as he took charge of the wheelchair. “We don’t have those updated sidewalks where the curb slopes down at the end of each block. But the street’s safe enough. The kids ride their bikes on this one all the time.”

Kate looked anxious. “I didn’t think about the curbs when we started this adventure.”

“At the church you can roll right up the driveway,” Alyssa added helpfully, falling into step beside Kate.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Kate adjusted her purse strap. “I should have allowed more time to get there. You ought to go on ahead of us, we’ll slow you down.”

Tucker didn’t release the handles. He liked watching the woman fidget. He could tell by the look of her that she didn’t give up control easily. Normally, that was a trait he admired. But she’d been prickly since she’d wheeled into town.

Though his stride was brisk, Kate kept up with him. “Really. I can take over now.”

She was as pretty as he remembered, especially with the stubborn set of her chin. “No problem. We’re going the same way.”

Kate muttered something beneath her breath.

Tucker smiled. The morning was looking up. With Kate on one side, Alyssa next to her, they walked down the street, three abreast. “So, didn’t want to try driving again in town?”

Gritting her teeth, Kate glanced at the girl. “It’s only a few blocks. Not much point in taking the car.”

They passed an older couple strolling slowly down the sidewalk. Tucker bent forward. “Marvin, I bet you like getting out in the air.”

“Yep.”

Tucker glanced at Kate. She refrained from commenting, but her chin jutted out a fraction farther. So he probed a bit more. “You from the city?”

Pursing her lips, she definitely looked irked. “Any particular one? Texas alone has three of the biggest in the country.”

So her temper was still touchy. Matched the deep blaze of her hair. He couldn’t help thinking, if she looked this good angry, she must really be something when she smiled.

Once they arrived at the church, Marvin was surrounded by welcoming members. Many of their faces were familiar to Kate—people who had visited Marvin at the hospital or at home. A man offered to take over the reins, and wheeled Marvin toward the Sunday school building. Her father waved jauntily, clearly happy to be back among friends. As he rolled away, Kate turned to speak with Tucker. Realizing she’d acted grouchy, she intended to thank him for his help…but couldn’t see him anywhere. Even his daughter had disappeared.

Feeling ridiculously bereft, Kate wondered where her class was held. She was usually pretty organized, but she hadn’t thought to ask Emma. The Community Church was a good-size set of buildings. The lovely old chapel stretched upward toward equally aged trees, the sunlight reflecting off the tall, multicolored stained glass panes. She guessed the second structure was the Sunday school building, plenty large enough for her to wander in for a while without finding her class.

“Kate!”

Recognizing Emma’s voice, she turned to see the entire McAllister clan, including the infamous twins, who were as adorable as she’d imagined.

“I just realized I didn’t tell you where your classroom is,” Emma began. “We have a short general meeting in the gym before we break into individual classes.” She turned to her husband. “Honey, can you take Logan and Everitt to the nursery so I can show Kate around?”

“Sure.” Seth glanced at their older son. “As long as I get Toby to help.”

As the guys left, Kate grinned at the image of this strapping man having difficulty wrangling two-year-olds.

“Thanks for steering me in the right direction, Emma. I haven’t told you—but it’s, um…been a while since I’ve been to church. One more reason I’m nervous about teaching this class.”

“The Lord will be with you.” Emma’s expression was encouraging. “Trust me, there won’t be any awkward silences. Twelve-year-old girls never run out of things to talk about.”

“Good.” Kate clasped the teacher’s edition of the Sunday school lesson book. “I studied the materials, and at one time I was a regular at Sunday school, but I’ve never been a teacher.”

“That’s okay. Just be yourself and the girls will love you.”

“The last time I had anything to do with preteens, I was twelve myself.”

Emma laughed. “You are a good sport. Your dad and I kind of bulldozed you into teaching.”

“Agreed,” she replied with a wry smile, “but seeing Dad so happy…well, I’m grateful you and the other members are such good friends to him.”

“Marvin’s great. I’ve always thought he ought to have a passel of grandkids.”

Kate grimaced, remembering the abrupt end of her engagement. “Afraid that’s not going to happen. At least not in the foreseeable future.”

“I didn’t mean to pry—”

“You didn’t.” Kate cleared her throat, remembering how Emma had confided in her, trusting her, treating her as a friend, not an acquaintance. “My fiancé couldn’t cope with me coming here to help out Dad. So…”

Emma linked her elbow with Kate’s. “I’m sorry. Maybe he’ll come around.”

Kate shook her head. “Family’s not important to him—something I was way too late noticing. And it is to me—important, I mean.”

“Marvin’s always talked about you,” Emma confided. “He’s so proud of you.”