Lone Star Blessings

“You know I don’t have any siblings, so Dad and I have always been close…I don’t want that to ever change.”

“In my book, you made the right decision. And, honestly, I try not to put my nose in anyone’s business, but maybe Marvin’s break was a lucky one for you. It’s not always easy to learn what a person’s all about before you marry.”

“But you and Seth…”

Emma grinned. “I’m the luckiest woman on the planet. Our marriage gets better every day. Just when I think it couldn’t possibly improve even a fraction, it does.”

“Like I’ve said before, you guys are a living Norman Rockwell portrait.”

“I believe you’re a true romantic, Kate Lambert. I keep hearing we’re a dying breed.”

“Probably for good reason. Talk about embarrassing, I planned to marry the man and never even thought to ask about family.”

Emma squeezed her arm. “When we love someone, we excuse a lot of things we wouldn’t otherwise.”

“How’d you get to be so wise?”

A shadow flickered in Emma’s eyes. “Not wise, observant.”

“Oh, Emma!” Kate was stricken. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up—”

“It’s okay. Really. They’re always in my heart, too. I’ve been so blessed. Not everyone gets a second chance…a second family.”

Incredibly grateful that Emma was her first friend in Rosewood, Kate stayed by her side as they arrived at the general assembly. The opening prayer, announcements and one hymn passed too quickly.

Emma walked with her to the girls’ classroom, then gave her a discreet thumbs up. Even more nervous, Kate gingerly stepped inside and took a chair. She watched the girls enter, bidding them hello. They all looked curious. Rosewood was a small town—one where almost everyone knew each other. And she stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb.

Some of her uneasiness disappeared as she recognized the sheriff’s daughter. When all the chairs were filled, Kate addressed the small group. “Hi. My name’s Kate Lambert. I’m going to be in Rosewood for a while, taking care of my father. And I’ll be teaching your class for however long that is.”

The girls stared at her. Silence.

“Um, why don’t you tell me something about yourselves?” Kate smiled at the curious faces. “Let’s start with Alyssa.”

Each of the girls gave her a few basic facts. They were all in the same grade and had known each other since nursery school days.

“Miss Laroy let us have a slumber party at her house,” Sasha announced.

“And we had our own booth at Harvest Festival,” Amber chimed in.

“Well…” Kate took a deep breath, hoping she looked composed. “Why don’t we wait a bit to discuss activities?” She held up her Sunday school book. “Did everyone read this week’s lesson?”

Various answers tumbled out.

Kate regained most of her footing as the lesson progressed. She wouldn’t compare Sunday school to riding a bike, but everything was coming back to her. Still, she was relieved when the first bell rang, indicating time to finish up. Since Alyssa had remained interested and upbeat, Kate asked her to say the closing prayer.

Bending her head, she listened to the girl’s words. They were about what she expected until almost the end.

“…and bless the ones we love and please make them love You.”

They all chimed in when Alyssa said amen. Opening her eyes, Kate studied the girl, watching as Alyssa unclenched her hands. And wondered what was troubling her so.

Chapter Three

Tucker leaned against the broad trunk of a live oak tree on the north lawn of the church, the heel of one boot braced on the rough bark. He’d had to dust his dress boots, since he hadn’t worn them in a while. It seemed strange to stand in front of the church, a place he’d practically grown up in. When he was a kid, unless blood or loss of limb was imminent, his family was in church every week. His mother used to say that if she missed church, the whole week was off because it didn’t have a beginning.

When he was eighteen, his parents were killed in a car wreck. The pastor had helped Tucker and his older sister through the loss. Karen had married and moved out of state not long afterwards. Although losing his parents had torn him up, Tucker had reconciled the loss by knowing that his parents were together forever, that neither would have been happy without the other.

Then he met Shelley and was certain that his theory was right. They were married in the chapel, and when Alyssa came along, they’d had her blessed in the same spot. And now it was the one place he couldn’t bear to enter.

As he watched, the tall, wide sanctuary doors pushed open, and people spilled out onto the front steps. Strands of conversation and laughter floated in the air like early spring butterflies. He could make out snatches of words; others were muffled by the footsteps of children who rushed out, anxious to be in the fresh air, ready to begin the picnic.

The first Sunday of the month potluck had been a tradition since he was a boy. On the rare occasions when bad weather clouded the skies, and during the winter months, they met in the Sunday school building. But his mother always said the Lord smiled on Sundays, that’s why it was usually sunny.

Alyssa sprinted toward him, her face one huge smile. “You came!”

Tucker’s gut clenched. Had he been that neglectful? He draped a hand over her shoulders. “Couldn’t keep me away.” His full attention on his daughter, he didn’t notice the approach of several surprised, pleased-looking members.

“Tuck, I thought it was you!” Grinning, Michael Carlson pumped his hand, then clapped the other on Tucker’s shoulder. “It’s been too long.”

Before Tucker could respond, several of the other people zoomed in, all talking at once. He must have shaken two dozen hands within mere minutes.

“So glad to see you!” Emma McAllister hugged him, then drew back with a big smile.

“We’ve missed you,” Matt Whitaker added.

Assorted versions of the same sentiment echoed as people crowded around. Although Tucker had known many of them since he was a kid, he didn’t feel a sense of homecoming. Instead, he felt the distance he’d created since Shelley’s death. He managed to say most of the right words, respond to all the greetings. However, the tie he was no longer accustomed to wearing seemed to tighten.

He glanced at Alyssa, and her expression was one of pure pleasure. Knowing he couldn’t disappoint her, he allowed himself to be swept along as the members strolled toward the back lawn, where round tables and folding chairs had been set up. Some people opted to bring quilts and sit on the lawn, but Tucker had been so caught up in the trauma of coming to the church, he hadn’t thought to bring a blanket or a dish to share. Long, rectangular tables, draped with plain white tablecloths, were filled with casseroles, salads, cakes, fried chicken—just about everything.

Families clustered together. Tucker swallowed, remembering when he was a kid and his parents would bring a quilt, so they could sit beneath the spreading limbs of the tallest oak tree.

Alyssa tugged on his hand. “Miss Emma said it’s okay we didn’t bring anything, ’cause there’s always too much anyway.”

True. He’d never yet been to a potluck that ran short of food. He wasn’t particularly hungry, wishing only that the picnic would end quickly so he could go home. But he walked behind Alyssa, scooping food onto his paper plate, then filling a glass of punch.

“This way, Dad.” Alyssa scooted toward a table.

Trying to balance the plate and glass, he didn’t notice until it was too late that she’d led him to the Lambert woman’s table.

“Miss Lambert’s my new Sunday school teacher,” Alyssa announced, clearly pleased.

That was quick. She’d barely had time to unpack her car.

Marvin greeted him heartily. “Come sit down.”

He couldn’t refuse without being rude. “Sure we won’t be crowding you?”

Marvin shook his head, gesturing to his wheelchair. “I brought my own seating, so we have more than enough room. Right, Kate?”