Lone Star Blessings

“I had enough of both.” Marvin shook his head. “Didn’t like feeling I was always running, never catching up. Pace here suits me better.”

“Are you hungry? It’s getting close to dinner time.”

Marvin shrugged. “A little, maybe. That was a big lunch.”

Kate watched as an older couple strolled by. “Looks like they’ve been together forever.”

“The Hills? About fifty years.”

“Incredible. That’s what? Two-thirds of their lives?”

“Sounds about right. Katie, you haven’t even mentioned Derek.”

She’d dreaded this conversation. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Has he called since you’ve been here?”

“We’ve got lasagna and baked ham left. You choose. When all the good stuff’s gone, you’ll be stuck with my cooking, which you know is terrible. That or sandwiches.” She fluffed the pillows on the couch. “Then again, maybe I’ll just get take-out from the café so I don’t poison you.”

“Did you argue about coming here to take care of me?”

She sighed. “He wasn’t who I thought he was.”

“I assume that’s a figurative reference.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to see the real Derek.”

“This is because of me. Katie, I won’t let you ruin your life—”

“Dad, coming here just opened my eyes. And I’m glad. What if I’d stumbled into marriage, then found out? It hurts, but it’s better to know.”

He sighed. “Confession—ever since I moved here, I’ve hoped that someday you would, too. Now I’ve trapped you.”

“You can’t trap somebody who volunteers. Face it, you couldn’t have kept me away.”

“So much like your mother. Stubborn, kind, seeing the best in people.”

There were days when Kate missed her mother so badly it was as though she’d just barely died, instead of twenty-five years ago. Blinking away the tears, she looked at the floor. “So, lasagna or ham?”

“She’d be proud of you, Katie.”

“We can make sandwiches out of the ham, so let’s have lasagna. I do know how to warm up stuff in the microwave. But no promises about not burning it. I usually make TV dinners because they have the instructions right on the package.”

“Katie?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“Love you.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

Chapter Four

Kate reached high with the feather duster, passing it over the top of the bureau in her father’s room. A second later she heard knocking. She glanced down at her jeans and mussed shirt. Fortunately, none of their visitors seemed to notice her perpetual state of messiness. Still, she smoothed her hair back as she reached the front door and opened it.

Alyssa Grey stood on the porch, looking somewhat shy.

“Hey! What a pleasant surprise. Come in.”

The girl looked at the duster still in Kate’s hand.

“Are you busy?”

Realizing she’d forgotten to ditch the duster, Kate stuck it behind her back. “You are a very welcome diversion. I don’t mind housework, but I like company better.”

“Is your dad okay, Miss Lambert?”

“Kate. And yes, he’s fine.” She noticed Alyssa had her backpack on. “Did you just get out of school?”

“Uh-huh. I passed your house on the way home, so…”

Kate sensed the girl was feeling uncertain. “I’m glad you have time to stop and visit. How about a snack?” She headed into the kitchen, Alyssa trailing behind. “We’ve got some fruit, um…cheese…yogurt…”

“I’m okay.”

Reaching into the fruit drawer, Kate pulled out two apples. “Want one?”

“Sure.”

They settled at the kitchen table, companionably munching their apples. “So you don’t live far?”

Alyssa pointed north. “About a block that way.”

“Great, we’re neighbors!” She reached for a paper napkin. “Did you let your parents know that you were stopping here?”

She shook her head. “It’s just my dad, and he’s at work.”

“Oh.” Kate cleared her throat. She had wondered on Sunday where the girl’s mother was. “Shouldn’t you still check in?”

“In a few minutes. Dad got me a cell phone after…Anyway, I’m not supposed to use it to talk to friends, just if I need him. So I call from home. But we got out an hour early—it’s Teacher Day or something.”

Kate wasn’t thrilled that this likeable girl belonged to the obstinate sheriff, but she knew how parents worried. “Surely he knows that.”

“He’s got a hard job and he forgets little stuff.”

Like when his daughter was due home? He shot down further in her estimation. Sure, divorce was difficult, but if he had primary custody, he needed to step it up. Not something she wanted to say to this child. “Okay, you have to be completely honest with me. Did I stink at teaching your class?”

Alyssa giggled. “Everybody likes you. Sasha’s worried you won’t let us have as many parties as Miss Laroy, but it’s cool that you lived in Houston and you’re an artist.”