Yuletide Cowboy. Debra Clopton
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of them had come a long way since arriving here in Mule Hollow. And there were others after them who came, too. Some had used the facility as a temporary stopping point before finding a permanent shelter elsewhere, but for the original four Mule Hollow was now home. It was a great place to raise boys. The country life suited them and it suited Lynn, too. “It’s mine—”
“No. It’s mine—”
She found them having a tug-of-war over a blue shirt.
“Guys, what’s going on here?”
“It’s my shirt,” Jack said.
Gavin shook his head. “It’s mine.”
Lynn looked at the shirt. “You both have this same ex act shirt… Let’s take a look at them.” Getting dressed for church was not always an easy process. Raising boys was challenging, but she wouldn’t give it up for anything. Sometimes, though, she worried about the future and not having a man in their lives to help guide the boys. Should she start looking for a man to fill the blank spot their dad had left? The thought hit her at times like this. When things like the tree house cropped up. It made her feel guilty that she wasn’t ready.
The ladies pressuring her about the bachelor auction didn’t help either. They didn’t understand—how could they know how she felt when she’d never told them? All her life she’d lived in turmoil where men were concerned—until now.
No one knew exactly how bad her life had been prior to escaping to the shelter. She wanted it to stay that way, too. Hiding her emotions had worn her down, but for the first time in years she was living life contentedly.
With no man in the picture there was no danger. No broken trust, no risk of being hurt…it was easier. Safer.
Both physically and emotionally. It had taken the love and fear for her sons to drive her from the cycle of abuse. Knowing that if not for them she might still be there undermined her self-respect and scared her.
No. It was better this way. Better feeling strong and content that her boys were her life. They were safe and happy as they were. And no matter how guilty she might feel because they didn’t have a father in their lives, she wasn’t ready to change that, not even for them.
Church had started when Chance slid into the back pew. He felt awkward arriving late but he hadn’t planned on coming at all. At the last minute the Lord, or habit, had him heading to the church. Normally his church was a dusty or waterlogged arena prior to a competition’s start.
Miss Adela had been playing the piano for the Mule Hollow Church of Faith all of Chance’s life. She had just finished playing the welcoming hymn “When We All Get to Heaven” as he slipped into the pew beside Applegate.
“This back pew’s not the place fer you, Chance Turner,” App leaned in and whispered loudly.
So much for thinking he’d gotten his point across yesterday. “Good morning to you, too, App.”
Applegate hiked a bushy brow. “What’s good about it? We’re at church and the only preacher we’ve got is sittin’ in the back row with me.”
Several people turned at his words. Since App was hard of hearing and talked loud enough to be heard in the choir loft it was a wonder the entire congregation didn’t turn and look at him. Well, okay, so most of them did. Chance had known this would happen but here he was anyway. It was like the Lord wasn’t going to let him go even when He knew Chance was struggling. “App, sir,” he whispered, “now isn’t the time for me to be up there.”
App crossed his arms and grunted just as Brady Cannon stepped up to the podium. The sheriff taught the singles’ Sunday school class, and he and his wife, Dottie, had turned his ranch into a shelter for abused women. Chance respected them both very much. Dottie ran a candy store on Main Street where she taught the women how to run their own business. Being self-sufficient was a goal of the shelter along with helping the families overcome their abusive pasts.
Wyatt had told him that Lynn, the woman he’d met yesterday, had recently moved from the shelter into her own place with her two sons. He wondered about Lynn. He’d hated to hear she’d had a hard time in her life. How a man could hurt a woman was beyond him…but how he could vow before God to love and cherish her and then strike and abuse her was even more incomprehensible.
“As most of you know I’m a sheriff, not a preacher,” Brady began to speak. “I’m just the best you’ve got this morning. Or at least that’s what the elders tell me. I’m pretty certain there’s some of you out there who could do a much better job than me of preaching this morning. I hope whoever you are that you’ll step up and fill the need.”
App shot Chance a sharp look, and he felt eyes on him from everywhere else, too. Looking to the right he saw two small heads, one dark and one blond, turned his way. Gavin and Jack were barely able to see him over the back of the pew but they were watching him. Their mother sat beside them with her gaze focused straight ahead on Brady. When the boys saw Chance looking, the blonde raised his hand and waved. The dark-headed one followed suit. Lynn caught their movement out of the corner of her eye and automatically turned. Her midnight eyes locked with Chance’s and unexpectedly his mouth went dry and his pulse tripped all over itself, pounding erratically.
Something in that look hadn’t been there before. Some thing in the way her eyes blazed into his hadn’t seared into him like that yesterday. The moment lasted less than a second before she let her gaze drop to her boys, tapping them each on the head and telling them, with the swirl of her finger, to turn around. Less than a second but he was hung up…
App elbowed him. “Like I said yesterday, she don’t look at jest anybody like that. If you was in the pulpit you wouldn’t have ta be lookin’ at the back of her pretty head right now.”
The woman in front of him almost choked on her laughter as she tried to hide that she’d heard what App had said. Why hide it? Everyone would have heard him, but they were all listening intently to Brady. Chance knew there was no way they hadn’t heard App, but they were doing a good job not disturbing the service any more than it already had been.
“App, cut it out,” he growled.
Thankfully, App decided he’d said enough. He crossed his arms and stared straight ahead for the remainder of Brady’s lesson.
The sheriff did a good job over the next twenty minutes. His words were about being a good steward of the talents God had given each church member, something Chance had thought he was doing until Randy’s death.
Though Chance listened, his heart was closed off to any emotional response. It had been that way ever since Randy had fallen beneath the hooves of that bull and Chance had realized he probably wasn’t coming out alive. App could push all he wanted but Chance wasn’t up to being in that pulpit right now. And honestly, he wasn’t sure when or if he’d be ready. He felt as if a heavy horse blanket had been thrown around his heart, smothering out all the light.
Everyone kept saying he needed time. That was why he’d come home. Time could heal most everything.
Chance hoped it was true.
He’d given many a cowboy a similar sermon at different times of trial in their lives. Now he was seeing how much easier it was to spout the words when you were giving advice to someone else. It was different when you were the one in the midst of the storm.
He let his gaze slide toward Lynn once more. Something was bothering her, too. He saw it in her eyes just now, and it cut him to the core.
Chapter Four
“Hey, mister. Mr. Chance, hold up.”
“Yeah, hold up!”
Chance had cut out the second the prayer was over. He wanted to keep right on walking but no way could he ignore the small voices hailing him. He’d made straight for the parking lot and was almost to the edge of the grass, almost to the white rock and fifteen feet from his truck… He’d almost made it.
App’s