Rancher Daddy. Lois Richer
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for Luc to “help out” as he put it, when Marcus fell ill. Luc did the chores her dad couldn’t, sold the cattle Marcus wanted to part with and even sheared the sheep Marcus had just begun raising. After Marcus died, Luc kept coming back, kept helping out. And Holly had been glad of it, especially after Family Ties opened and, as the local nurse practitioner, she was called on to assist with several births.
“You must be daydreaming about something wonderful,” Luc whispered in her ear when she passed through the door he held open. “Your smile couldn’t get bigger. Something good happen?”
“Yes.” She sank into a booth across from Henry. She smiled at him then faced Luc. “This morning I made a decision. I’m going ahead with the renovations on the house. I intend to make the extra bedroom into a full-blown sewing room.”
She’d decided to go ahead because this morning the very thought of always having to clear off the dining table so she could sew the baby clothes she sold online seemed daunting. The extra bedroom was the perfect space; it just needed a few modifications.
Holly grimaced. Was it her good-girl image that made her try to gloss things over? Truthfully, that room needed a lot of modification if it was going to help her grow her business.
But Holly didn’t tell Luc that. Nobody in town knew about her business and that’s the way she intended to keep it. Getting dumped the day before her December wedding had generated enough gossip in Buffalo Gap to last a lifetime. She sure didn’t need the town thinking she was so heartbroken and desperate to have a child that she now poured her soul into making baby clothes for other moms because she’d lost her chance to be a wife and mom.
“Holly?” Luc’s touch on her arm roused her from her introspection. “Pancakes and sausage? That’s what Henry and I are having.”
“No, thank you.” Holly made a face. “The very last things I want are heavy, syrup-drenched pancakes and sausages before I go to sleep. I’ll have dry rye toast, two scrambled eggs and tea, please,” she said to Paula Brewster. They shared a smile before Paula left to place the orders.
“Pancakes are good,” Henry told her seriously. “Way better than eggs or cereal.” He lost his serious look for a moment when Luc held out a hand to high-five him. But the gravity returned almost immediately. “When do I get my family?”
Holly didn’t know how to answer. It would be nice to say “not long,” to reassure the boy, but the truth was that neither she nor Luc knew anything about Henry and whether or not Family Ties could help him.
“That’s a hard thing to answer, Henry,” Luc said seriously. Holly liked the way he didn’t brush off the boy’s concern or make promises he couldn’t keep.
“Why?” Henry’s big brown eyes looked into Luc’s trustingly, waiting for an answer.
“Because families are hard things to build,” Luc told him. He grinned. “Look at me. I don’t have a family yet.”
“Don’t you want one?” Henry thanked their server for his glass of milk, took a sip then leaned back in his chair to hear the answer.
“Definitely.” Luc nodded. “But finding a family isn’t easy. I grew up without my own family. Instead, other families took care of me.”
“Did you like that?” Henry asked.
“Mostly I did. I was safe,” Luc said after a moment of thought. “I had a place to sleep, good food to eat and nobody hurt me. It was okay.”
“I want a family to love me.” Henry’s earnest tone matched his solemn face. “I prayed to God for it.”
“That’s the best thing you could do, Henry.” Holly waited until Paula had served their food before she continued. “God loves us. He wants to give us what we most want. You just keep praying for a family.”
“Do you have a family?” Henry studied her seriously.
“Not anymore,” Holly explained quietly, setting down her fork as she spoke. “My dad died three months ago. He was all the family I had.”
No way would she include her mother as family. Since the day she’d walked out, Holly barely gave the woman a thought and certainly not in terms of motherhood.
It struck Holly then that she’d done a much worse thing than her mother had done. The familiar burden of guilt that always accompanied thoughts of her baby settled on her spirit once more.
“I’m sorry.” Henry reached across the table and enfolded her fingers in his. “I’ll ask God to get you and Luc families, too.”
“Thank you, Henry,” Holly said, greatly humbled by his strong faith. “You’d better eat your pancakes while they’re hot.”
While Henry dug into his food, Luc bombarded her with questions about the changes she wanted to make to the farmhouse where she’d been born.
“Be more specific. What exactly do you want?” he pressed.
“I want more electrical outlets for one thing,” Holly specified. “I want wide countertops to cut out fabric. I want better lighting so I can work at night if I’m on the day shift. I want lots of storage space and room for my quilting frame. If I get called in, I want to leave my sewing as is and pick up where I left off when I return.”
“Shouldn’t be hard.” He shrugged.
“Good, because the dining table doesn’t cut it anymore,” she told him with a grimace. “I’m tired of making do.”
“So am I,” Luc said in a low-throated tone. “I’m really tired of that.”
Holly stared at his serious face, confused by his words. But before she could ask him to explain, her phone rang. Mayor Marsha, who knew everything that happened in town, had already talked to Hilda about Henry. Pushing off her need for sleep, Holly agreed she and Luc would bring Henry to meet Marsha in the mayor’s office in half an hour. Luc nodded when she told him then picked up their earlier conversation.
“I’ve never seen whatever it is you spend so much time sewing.” He studied the green scrubs she still wore from her shift at the hospital, his gaze resting on the label on the chest pocket. “Not those, I’m guessing. Are you helping with more quilts for Family Ties? I heard the intent was to give one to every woman who uses the services of Family Ties to adopt out her child.”
“I am helping with that.” Holly wished he wasn’t so curious. “But that’s not exactly what I want a sewing room for.”
It was silly trying to evade the question because Luc never let anything go until he had an answer. That was the way he’d been the whole time he’d been learning ranching from her dad, and Holly doubted he’d ever change. His curiosity was innate. He was one of those people who asked and probed until he received a satisfactory answer. She thought Henry had the same trait.
“I could understand if you were still making your wedding dress.” Luc squinted out the window, watching the town come to life. “But you don’t need that anymore, do you?”
“Even if I did, it’s too late,” she told him defiantly. “I cut it up the day Ron dumped me.”
“But you could use it someday,” he protested.
“I am not getting married, Luc. Even if I were, do you honestly think I’d wear a wedding dress I chose to marry someone else? I assure you, I would not. But I repeat, I’m not getting married. Ever.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Ever? That’s pretty harsh.” Luc raised an eyebrow then inclined his head toward her plate. At her nod he picked up the last slice of her toast and smeared jam over it. “Surely one day—”
“Never,” Holly repeated. “I’m too independent.” She glanced at him through her lashes as she fudged the truth. “I prefer to be single.”
He shot her a look that questioned her statement.
“Don’t