Lone Star Holiday

He watched as she made her way back to the ranch house. An unfamiliar loss at her departure settled softly in his chest.

He wanted to spend more time with her, hear her laughter and watch her smile. He shook his head and turned back to the cabin.

It had been thirteen years since he had asked someone out on a date, and he had ended up married to her.

He stopped. Where had that thought come from? Unwanted memories surfaced, and John closed and locked the door, both physically and mentally. Even contemplating a relationship with Lorrie Ann needed to stop.

He felt confident in his work for God and tried hard to be a good father, but he had made a lousy husband. He wished he could close the door on the hurt in Carol’s eyes as he locked the door behind Lorrie Ann.

His wife had deserved a better husband, but by the time he’d realized that, it had been too late.

Chapter Five

Tuesday slipped by quietly into Wednesday morning. The sun slid through Lorrie Ann’s window, and she just lay there. A slow smile eased across her face when she realized she had nowhere to be, no appointment to make and no people to mollify or manipulate. She could lie in bed all day if she wanted.

Her forehead creased. She did have one thing she needed to do. Quick thumbs and the text to Melissa, the lead singer of the band, was sent. With a satisfying thump, she closed the drawer with the cell phone inside. She had a few weeks to hide.

Shoving the guilt aside, Lorrie Ann reminded herself that everyone deserved a holiday, and hers would be in the Lone Star State this year.

She sighed. What she really needed was a new job. There was no way she and Brent could work together. If her boss, Melissa, had to pick between the talented but troubled drummer and the band’s manager, Lorrie Ann figured she would be the one to go.

Once dressed, she headed outside. Bible in hand, her other hand trailed over the smooth worn cedar railing of the zigzag stairs leading to the river below the cabins. The cool October breeze ruffled her hair as she made her way to the edge of the Frio. The flow of the river had changed since she’d left.

With her hand on one of the large cypress trees, she slipped off her shoes and stepped into cold, clear water. In California, she’d been so focused on being successful she’d misplaced her love for the outdoors.

“Miss Lorrie Ann, Miss Lorrie Ann. Hello!” Celeste’s excited voice drifted down from the top of the cliff.

Lorrie Ann cupped her hand over her eyes to block the sun as she turned to find the six-year-old hanging over the edge of their balcony. “Hi to you, Celeste. Hear you’re coming over today for a visit.”

“Daddy has to take Rachel in to get casted. Can we cut some more grapes?”

“Sure. Thought we could make some cookies, too.”

The little girl started to jump up and down. “Yeah! We can take some to Amy.” Celeste leaned over the railing, suspended over the cliff.

“Celeste Rebecca Levi, put your feet on the floor right now!” John’s stern voice came from the cabin door behind Celeste.

She looked back to the cabin and pointed down to the river. “Sorry, Daddy. Miss Lorrie Ann’s in the river.”

A few seconds later he appeared next to his daughter, one arm wrapped around the precocious six-year-old. “Hey there, Lorrie Ann. Hope you’re well rested.” His mussed hair fell across his forehead as he looked down at her. “Isn’t the river cold?” The sun emphasized the highlights streaked in his dark blond hair. She knew men who paid hundreds of dollars to get coloring like his. Without a doubt, nature created his color.

“Maybe, but it feels good.” She shrugged and smiled up at them, placing her hand over her heart. “I believe I should be reciting from Romeo and Juliet.”

His laughter soothed her as much as the clear water running over the rocks.

Nose wrinkled, Celeste leaned over and asked, “What’s Romeo and Julie?”

“Juliet,” John corrected.

Lorrie Ann threw her arms wide. “A love story with a tragic ending. Poor Romeo stood under Juliet’s balcony and professed his undying love.”

“Then Daddy should be Romeo and you, the beautiful princess. Is Juliet a princess?”

“Monkey, I think Lorrie Ann wanted quiet time, not a literary discussion.” He picked her up and swung her onto his hip.

“Quiet time? But that’s boring.” One small arm wrapped around her father’s neck, Celeste slanted over the edge with a puzzled look on her face. “Miss Lorrie Ann, were you really wanting quiet time?”

“Well, I was thinking about finding a place to pray and think.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Daddy likes quiet time, too. But he does it at the church. Maybe you can go to the church with Daddy.”

Even from the river, she could see the lines around John’s eyes deepen with his smile. “Come on, monkey. Let’s leave her to her solitude.” He patted her back. “Sorry about the interruption, Lorrie Ann.”

“Oh, please, don’t apologize. I’ll see you in a little bit, rug rat.”

“Bye, Miss Lorrie Ann. Tell God hi for me.” She waved as John turned them toward the door. “Daddy, what does literinary mean?”

Lorrie Ann couldn’t stop the smile as she looked down at her toes beneath the water. Curious little minnows started checking out her feet.

In a few hours, the family would be eating dinner together before heading to Prayer Night at the church. The smile slipped away. Thinking of her cousin, Yolanda, caused old hurts to boil up from the deep places she thought buried.

Back then she had been afraid Aunt Maggie would side with her real daughter. Lorrie Ann remembered living for the day she would leave this small town, proving to everyone she mattered. Truth be told, she was still a little afraid what would happen if Aunt Maggie had to choose between them.

With a deep breath she closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds around her: the water, the wind dancing through the trees and the leaves floating to the ground.

“God, I’ve come back to find You. I know it’s been a long time, and I’m not sure what to do. I’ve messed up so much I need You to show me the way to go.” She stepped farther into the river. “I don’t want Aunt Maggie to be hurt. Please show me what to say to my cousin, Yolanda.”

She waded down the riverbank to a little platform. On the other side a ladder dropped down to a swimming hole with a long flat rock creating a natural edge. Above it hung a thick corded rope.

Climbing to the platform, she sat and dangled her legs in the water. Running her fingers along the pages, she opened her Bible to the prayer in Ephesians and read how much God loved her.

A noise on the steps alerted her to someone’s presence. Turning, she raised her eyebrows at the sight of Celeste hopping down the stairs with one hand on the railing.

When the little girl spotted Lorrie Ann looking at her, she crouched on the step and whispered, “Are you finished with your quiet time?”

Lorrie Ann closed the Bible and grinned. Who knew a child could be so entertaining? “Yes, rug rat. Does your father know you’re down here?” She glanced up to the cabins.

“He sent me over to Aunt Maggie’s house.” She skipped the rest of the way to Lorrie Ann and sat down, crisscrossing her legs. With her elbows on her knees, she rested her chin on her intertwined fingers. “Are we still talking to God or the fish?” She intently stared into the water.

“Um...well, I kind of ran out of things to say to God, and I’ve never talked to fish before. You talk to fish?”

Celeste rolled her legs around and flopped onto her tummy. With one hand under her chin, she dipped the other in the water.

“Yes.” She looked up at Lorrie Ann with a big smile. “It tickles when they nibble on you. They’re my pets.” She moved her gaze back to the water. “Shh...there’s Rainbow—he’s the biggest.” They both sat still staring at the fish underwater as he stared back at them. They waited in silence. Lorrie Ann smiled when she realized she was in a staring contest with a fish.

“Celeste Rebecca Levi!” They both jumped at the sound of John’s voice. “I told you to go to Aunt Maggie’s house. You are not allowed down by the river.” His long strides had him by their side in seconds. “You can’t be interrupting Lorrie Ann’s prayer time.”

He stood over them, hands on his hips. Lorrie Ann arched her neck back to look up at him. It just seemed wrong that a man of God would look so good. Wasn’t there some rule about pastors being old grandfatherly types?