Second Chance Rancher. Brenda Minton
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approached the man who had gotten off the ladder. She recognized him from the benefit at Essie’s. Pastor Matthews didn’t look like a man who backed down easily. He also didn’t appear to need her help. But she got out of her truck and headed his way, anyway.
“I’m here to get my wife,” the newcomer shouted. He headed past the pastor but a shoulder check kept him from getting too far.
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Pastor Matthews said with a semblance of gentility.
“My wife is here with my kid and I want her to come home.”
“Sir, I’m sorry but you’ll have to leave. If you have a wife who wants to come home, I’m sure she’ll get in touch with you.”
“Willa, get out here! Get Seth. We’re going home. Come on now, honey. You know I didn’t mean to hit you.”
Lucy shook her head. She’d heard that too many times in her life. She could hear her father’s voice, telling her if she’d just done what she knew was right, he wouldn’t have had to hit her.
It had always been her fault, her mom’s fault, the fault of her brothers. Jesse Palermo had never once meant he was sorry for his behavior. He’d only been sorry they hadn’t lived up to his standards.
“What are you looking at?” the man shouted, his attention now on Lucy.
She shrugged. “Not much.”
With a growl, he came at her. Maybe that’s what she’d wanted, to show him that not all women could be beat down. As he charged her, she readied herself, focusing, then struck out. With two moves she had him pinned to the ground, begging for mercy, then threatening to get her for this. She smiled and asked him how he planned on doing that.
Pastor Matthews put a hand on her shoulder. “I think you can let him go.” He leaned over to look at the man on the ground. “You’re going to go home now. Correct?”
“Yeah, I’ll leave. But Willa is going to come home with me.”
“I don’t think she wants to.”
“No, I’ll go.” A quiet voice came from behind Lucy.
Lucy released the man. She stood to face the petite young woman, a toddler in her arms. She still wore the black eye she’d probably gotten from her husband.
“Don’t.”
Willa shrugged. “He’s my man.”
“He isn’t a man,” Lucy responded, giving him a look. “Real men don’t hit women.”
“I’ll show you a real man.” He came at her again but Lucy held a hand up and at least he had the good sense to know this wasn’t a fight he would win.
“Willa, please think about the safety of your child.” It wasn’t any of Lucy’s business.
But isn’t that what people had probably said about her family? For years no one had gotten involved. Every now and then a teacher had questioned a mark or a bruise. She’d always had an explanation. She’d been breaking a horse, fixing fence, working on the barn. This woman probably had plenty of excuses, too.
“He won’t hurt us anymore. You’re sorry, ain’t you, Johnny?”
Johnny shot her a pleased look and moved in next to her. “You know I am, Willa. Sometimes you just don’t know when to shut up and you make me so mad. But we’re better now, aren’t we?”
Willa nodded her head and Johnny put an arm around her and headed her toward the truck. Lucy took a step after them but a hand on her arm stopped her.
“You can’t make them stay.” Pastor Matthews spoke quietly, words of reason she wanted to deny. She wanted to make Willa stay.
“No, you can’t,” she agreed as she watched Johnny help Willa and his son into the truck.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” the pastor said as they watched the truck ease down the driveway. Once it hit the road, Johnny gunned the engine and flew past the church, honking the horn and yelling.
“You invited me to come take a look,” she said. He had issued the invitation at the diner on Saturday.
“Yes, I did.” He motioned toward the building. “I’ll give you a tour. And maybe you’ll decide to do more than look. We can always use an extra hand around here. We definitely don’t have anyone who can deliver a right punch the way you just did.”
She looked up, saw humor in his expression and relaxed a bit. “I do have an unusual skill set. But I’m not here because I want to volunteer.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. If you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
“Yes, I do.”
“So we’ll start with a tour?”
She studied the building, seeing so much of the past but seeing the new, as well. A coward would make excuses. She had to get home. There were fences to fix. She had a sister who probably wondered where she’d gone. But deep down she knew she needed to face this building. She had to face her past.
She would walk through the building, compliment what they were trying to do and never return.
They started in the sanctuary. The carpet had been pulled up and old hardwood floors refinished. The pews were new. The pulpit her father had stood behind was gone. Sunlight filtered through amber-colored windows, bathing the sanctuary in golden warmth. She could hear hammering at the back of the church and the hum of conversation from behind the building.
She could also hear her father’s words, taking well-known Bible verses and bending them to his will and purpose. Women should be quiet. Children should obey. Always used as an excuse to keep them in line, to beat them into submission.
The twins. Her brothers. She smiled, thinking of the difficulty their father’d had trying to bend their will to his. The more he beat them, the more determined they were to oppose him.
Lucy was the opposite. She’d built a shell, remained quiet, took the abuse until she could leave.
A hand touched her arm. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, aware that she had half hugged herself as she stood there staring up at the pulpit. Words can never hurt you. She reminded herself of the old adage, meant to keep children from being hurt by bullies.
Words. Words took pieces from an already-broken heart, ripped at a wounded soul and left scars no one could see.
Words would always hurt.
Her vision narrowed as she took another deep breath.
“I have to go.”
Pastor Matthews offered her a grim smile. “Too much?”
She focused her sight on the door, her escape route. Always know where the exits are, a safety tip they stressed in their bodyguard business. “I think so. I do appreciate what you’re trying to do here.”
“If you need us, we’re here.”
“I’m good but thank you.” Her vision clouded as she hurried through those double doors at the front of the church.
She ran straight into Dane Scott as he was coming up the steps of the church. “Whoa.”
His hands steadied her.
She blinked back tears. She didn’t cry. She wouldn’t cry. Instead she brushed off his hands and kept walking. If she had any sense left at all she would get in her truck and head back to Austin and a job that would keep her mind busy.
She stopped midway to her truck, bending at the waist, taking deep breaths to ease the tension in her lungs. A hand on her back rubbed slow circles. She shook her head but he wouldn’t leave. Why wouldn’t he leave?
“Take slow breaths.” His voice rumbled close