Lone Star Holiday

A frown replaced the smile when the word pastor sank into Lorrie Ann’s brain. Only one other person had spoken to her. That good-looking cowboy couldn’t have been a...

“That cowboy is a preacher?” Her jaw dropped, and she closed her eyes. Horror stomped out the shock. She had flirted with a man of God.

Katy’s smile went wider as her eyes sparkled. “Yes! He seemed to really like you.”

Vickie gave a loud snort and narrowed her glare. “You’ve always tried taking men who aren’t yours. He will see right through you.”

Katy punched Vickie’s arm and laughed. “Oh, stop it! Lorrie Ann just got into town. We don’t need to bring up what happened in the past. Anyway, Pastor John has not dated anyone since the horrible accident five years ago. I think it’s about time he left his daughters at home and went out for some fun.”

“Whatever.” With a shrug, Vickie turned and walked to the back of the store.

Lorrie Ann’s chin went up. No longer was she the pathetic girl abandoned by her mother. Now she made big deals and managed bands in her daily life. She controlled her destiny. Not some...

A warm hand on her arm brought her around.

“Don’t let her get under your skin. She’s always been jealous of you.” Katy waved her hand in the air and lowered her voice. “And since the divorce, she’s just gotten downright bitter. She should have never married Tommy. Poor thing, her life is a mess right now. Let’s get your stuff so you can go home.”

Katy’s soft gaze brought a knot to Lorrie Ann’s throat. Well, she could relate to a messy life. “I always thought her and Jake were an item. She hated my friendship with him.”

“Yeah, now they are both back in town and avoiding each other—sad, really.” Katy shook her head. “Come on. Let’s get your things so you can surprise Maggie.”

Purchases in hand, Lorrie Ann stepped out of the store and spotted the Ford truck still parked outside the mercantile. She groaned. Less than thirty minutes in town, and she had already been flirting with the town pastor right on Main Street. The gossips would have a field day with that tidbit.

Chapter Two

“Aunt Maggie? It’s—”

“Oh, mija, it’s so good to hear from you!” A slight pause came through the line. “Is everything okay?”

The love and concern in the older woman’s voice wrapped itself around Lorrie Ann’s heart. Eyes closed briefly, she eased a smile across her face.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m actually in Clear Water heading to the farm.” As the silence lingered, her stomach knotted.

“What? Oh, my, Lorrie Ann Ortega! What do you mean you’re in Clear Water? Why are you just now calling me?” Lorrie could almost hear her aunt’s thoughts processing. “Oh, sweetheart, what happened?”

“Nothing.... I just need a place to rest, get my thoughts together. Is it okay that I came to the farm? I don’t know Mom’s latest location.” Nerves hit her stomach hard. “It’s just for a couple weeks while I figure things out. I can rent one of the cabins.”

“You hush about paying. This is your home. Your room’s always ready for you.”

Lorrie pulled in her lips and bit down. The need to cry burned her eyes. She pulled a deep breath through her nose before she dared speak again. “Thank you, Aunt Maggie. I’m at Second Crossing now, so I’ll—”

A deer darted across the road. Her phone slid to the floorboard as she grabbed the steering wheel with both hands. Hitting the brake, she pulled her car to the side of the road.

The deer’s hooves slid on the pavement, fighting to regain control. The white of the doe’s eyes flashed, and in a frenzied twist it turned back the way it had come and ran behind her.

In Lorrie Ann’s rearview mirror, she tracked the animal as it scurried right in front of a yellow Jeep. Eyes wide, Lorrie Ann watched the events as if in slow motion. Horror filled her mind as the deer collided with the grille of the oncoming vehicle. The deer flew over the hood into the windshield, and the Jeep lost control. It slid in the loose gravel and rolled toward the river. Frozen in her seat, Lorrie Ann stared as a group of cedar trees stopped the rolling car.

“Lorrie! Lorrie Ann, answer me!” Her aunt’s frantic voice brought her back to herself. White fingers had a death grip around the leather of her steering wheel. As she reached for the phone between her feet, her hands shook. She took a deep breath. The dark shades fell to the floorboard, and she didn’t bother picking them up.

“I’m here. I’m fine, but there’s been an accident. I have to call 911.” Without waiting to hear her aunt’s response, she ended the call and hit the emergency button. She stepped out of her car and jogged along the shoulder of the road, her heels clicking across the asphalt. Breath held tight, she approached the flipped vehicle. When she heard crying, relief eased her muscles a small bit, proof of life.

She knelt to look in the cab, her heart pounding at the thought of what she might see. A young girl hung upside down by her seat belt in the backseat.

A sob muffled her words. “Rachel! Rachel!”

Her weeping broke Lorrie’s heart. “Sweetheart, my name’s Lorrie Ann. I called the ambulance.”

The voice on the line demanded her attention, asking for details. “There has been a car accident at Second Crossing. Oh, I’m Lorrie Ann Ortega. There’s a girl about five or six in the backseat. She is awake and suspended by her seat belt.”

Lorrie scanned the cab, noticing two more girls up front. Broken glass covered the roof, but the roll bars had done their job and created a pocket for them.

The passenger in the front seat appeared to be around ten or twelve. “There are two girls in the front, both strapped in their seats. The driver has blood on her face. She looks unconscious.” A deep sigh of relief escaped. “But breathing.”

The young girl in front started twisting against her shoulder strap. “Celeste? Celeste, where are you?” A frantic tone edged her voice.

“Rachel! I’m...I’m scared.” The smaller one in the backseat reached forward.

“Don’t be scared. Stop crying! It won’t help.” Her voice sounded more mature than her age.

Lorrie Ann couldn’t help being impressed. “Girls, help is on the way. Are you sisters?” Their matching ponytails bobbed as they nodded their heads. “It’s Rachel and Celeste, right?”

“Yes.” The older girl in the front spoke, moving both hands to rub at her face. “Amy’s our babysitter. Oh, Daddy’s going to be so mad.”

“I’m sure your father just wants you safe.”

“Oh! My leg is stuck. I can’t move it.” Rachel sounded calm, though her voice pitched higher at the last word.

Lorrie Ann narrowed her gaze on Rachel’s right leg surrounded by metal. It looked as if a piece of the engine had pushed through.

The driver groaned.

“Amy, Amy, wake up!” Rachel reached across and touched her shoulder.

“What happened?” Amy pushed back her hair. “Oh, no!” She sucked in deep breaths, and her eyes went wide. “Rachel? Celeste? Please, please tell me you’re all right!” She cried out in pain, hugging herself and moaning.

“Easy. Don’t hurt yourself.” Lorrie Ann pressed a hand to the older girl’s shoulder. “I hear the sirens. Help’s almost here. Just hang on, girls, and try to stay still.”

Lorrie Ann turned from the crumbled metal and watched as an ambulance arrived.

A state trooper pulled in from the other direction. He quickly stepped from his car and made his way to the wreckage. Lorrie Ann squinted against the sun to get a better look at him and then hung her head.

He hunched next to her, scanning the inside of the car. “Hang tight, Amy. Girls, we’ll have you out soon.” He turned until she saw her reflection in his aviators. “Lorrie Ann Ortega? What in the world are you doing here?”

She stared into the face of another ghost from her past. Even with the dark shades masking most of his face, she knew who hovered over her.

“Jake Torres, I’m trying to help three scared girls here.”

He nodded. Bracing a hand on the door as he peered back inside, he spoke again, his voice softened. “We’re here to help you girls. So breathe and stay calm.”

He glanced back at Lorrie Ann over his shoulder. “Girl, you sure know how to make an entrance back to town.”

* * *

Making his way to the post office, John could not stop the urge to whistle a sweet tune as he waved to the cars slowly passing by. The plans for his day had fallen apart when Dub called, needing help with a renegade horse.

He smiled, remembering his frustration when the church secretary, JoAnn, called right after with a problem at the construction site. Both unscheduled events put Maggie’s niece right in his path.

It had been a long time since he allowed himself to enjoy the company of a female. He should have fully introduced himself, but he suspected the easy camaraderie would have ended. As soon as someone found out he was a pastor, they started acting differently around him. Ordinarily the attitude didn’t bother him, but today, he just wanted to be a normal man getting to know another person. Another person who happened to be a woman.

That thought gave him pause. He tilted his face toward the sky, trying to recall how long it had been. Time had a way of slipping past unnoticed.

The tiny, dark-haired female had boldly gotten his attention. He grinned. Knee-high boots were not his style, but something about her had radiated past her appearance. He shook his head and started walking again. He needed to get back to the task at hand. Guilt roared at him. He had no right to flirt with anyone.

With a quick flip of his wrist, he checked the time. In order to make his lunch date, he had to get in and out of the post office undetected by any well-meaning parishioners.

With a slow pull on the glass door to ensure the bells remained silent, John slipped into the small post office and held his breath. With a swift glance to his left, he found the room clear.

Today he would not break his promise to the girls. He would be home by noon. A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth as he thought of all the whispering and giggling involved in planning a surprise picnic for him. He never seemed to spend enough time with them.

Small-town life had become much more complicated than he’d imagined when he’d accepted the job as senior pastor four years ago.

He pulled the envelopes from the square compartment and gently closed the long brass door to box 1, feeling like a CIA spy behind enemy lines...almost free.

“Oh, Pastor John, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you into the post office so early?”

Caught. For a split second, his shoulders sagged, and he closed his eyes.

“Pastor John? Is everything okay? I have the cranberry-oatmeal cookies you love so much.” Postmistress for the past thirty years, Emily Martin spoke around her daily chicken-salad sandwich. “They’re in the back.”

Relaxing tight muscles, John put on his welcoming smile and glanced down at the tiny woman who made him feel taller than his six-foot frame.

“No, thanks. The girls are waiting for me.” He glanced at his escape route. Fondness for the sweet lady won over. “How are you today, Miss Emily?”

“Oh, those babies—that oldest looks just like her momma, poor thing. Well, my sister is pestering me again about Momma’s house and my knee is bothering me, which I hope means we’ll be getting some rain—the ground’s so dry—but other than that, I can’t complain.” She swallowed her last bite. “It’s all in God’s hands, right, Pastor John?”

“Yes, it is.” John glanced behind Emily again, to the door only five feet away. So close yet so far. “Well, I’ve got to be going. You have a nice day.”

Behind his smile, John gritted his back teeth. Utter defeat consumed him as he watched Elva De La Soto, another elder member of his church, open the door. She rushed in wearing the familiar expression of tragedy on her face.

“Pastor John! I’m so glad you’re here. There’s been an accident at Second Crossing. It’s the Campbell girl’s Jeep. Is she babysitting your girls today?”

* * *

John ran to his truck and drove toward the pecan farm without a conscious thought. Fear and faith clashed in John’s brain. His phone started buzzing. Recalling the phone call about his wife’s accident, he froze. He stared at the unfamiliar number. If he didn’t answer he could stay ignorant of any bad news. He prayed with every fiber of his being for his girls’ safety.

Why had they been in the babysitter’s car? They weren’t allowed to travel with anyone without his permission. Amy knew his rules. His mind numb and his knuckles gripping the steering wheel, John turned onto Highway 83.

Faith would enable him to handle whatever waited for him. With a firm move, he accepted the call.

“This is John.” His own voice sounded foreign.

“Daddy?” a small tentative voice came over the line.

Relief flooded his body, and his hands began to shake. John cleared his dry throat. “Hey, sweet girl. Are you okay?”

“I’m...I’m a little scared, but Rachel told me not to be. The car is upside down. A deer ran into us. Ms. Amy and Rachel are in the ambulance. Rachel told me not to cry, and Lorrie Ann said everything’ll be okay.” She sniffled. “Daddy, please come get me.”

Amy’s yellow Jeep came into view. He swallowed back the bile that rose from his stomach. Reality and memories tangled in his vision. Flashes of his wife’s crumbled silver Focus clouded his eyesight. The accident had been his fault. Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on today.

All four wheels faced the clear sky. The driver’s side was smashed against a cedar break. The trees had stopped the Jeep’s free fall into the river below. At the sight, his body stiffened; he could no longer feel his limbs.

His two little girls had been in that jumbled piece of metal.

John pulled his truck to an abrupt stop on the side of the highway, the loose gravel crunching under his tires. His gaze scanned the area.

The trooper’s red and blue lights reflected over the people starting to mill around the crushed car. His six-year-old daughter sat on the front seat of a little BMW, her bare feet dangling in front of Lorrie Ann.

His throat closed up, and for a minute, he couldn’t breathe. Thank You, God! Thank You!

“I’m right behind you, baby. I’m here. I’m going to hang up now, okay?”

His youngest daughter’s head whipped around, searching for him. Before his boots left the old truck, she had started running to him. In a few strides, he had her pulled up close against his heart.

Her thin arms tightened around his neck, threatening to cut off his air. One hand cradled the back of her head; the other scooped up her bottom. Her legs wrapped around his torso.

“Hey, monkey. It’s all right. I’m here. I’ve got you.” He whispered into her ear, taking in the smell of her apple shampoo. He closed his eyes and for a moment focused on her heartbeat. The warmth of her tiny body absorbed into his.

Thank You, God.

He opened his eyes and found Lorrie Ann staring up at him.

“Hello again.” She reached out and patted Celeste’s back. “I was first on the scene. Amy and Rachel are with the EMTs. They’ll be fine—just a bit more banged up.” Her voice remained calm, and the softness in her eyes soothed him with the compassion he saw.

He glanced to the open doors of the ambulance. Fear slammed its way through his gut. Celeste wiggled under his tightened grip. He closed his eyes, sent a quick prayer and relaxed his muscles.

“You can take Celeste with you. I promise it’s not bad.” Her smile reassured him she understood his hesitation of taking Celeste to the ambulance.

What she couldn’t see? The images flashing in his mind of his wife’s accident. He swallowed hard and pressed his lips against Celeste’s forehead. With another prayer, he hurried across the street to his oldest daughter while carting his six-year-old on his hip.

“Rachel?” He poked his head around the door only to find Amy, his seventeen-year-old babysitter, on the stretcher. “Hello, Amy.”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Pastor Levi, I’m so sorry. I know I wasn’t supposed to take them, but they wanted apples for the chicken salad. They said it was your favorite. I’m so sorry.”

“I just want y’all to be safe.”

From the far side, he heard voices.

“Daddy? Are you there?” Ducking around the ambulance, he found Rachel. His stress lightened a bit at the sight of Brenda Castillo, in her blue EMT uniform, bent over his daughter’s leg.

“Hello, Pastor John.” Brenda smiled at Rachel. “See, I told you he would get here before we left.”

“Daddy, I’m so sorry.” Huge tears spilled out of her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

His chest clenched at the sight. “Oh, princess, there’s nothing for you to apologize for. It was an accident.” He went to bend down, but with Celeste still in his arms, he almost lost his balance.

“Here, let me help.” The soft voice surprised him.

Lorrie Ann had followed them over. Before he could do anything, a pink zebra-print golf cart drew everyone’s attention as it charged onto the highway. Dust flew as the small woman, Margarita Schultz, set a determined course straight at them.

“Aunt Maggie!” his daughters and Lorrie Ann yelled as one voice.

The cart threw pebbles as it slid to a stop. Without slowing down, Maggie jumped from the seat. Short black-and-silver-streaked hair flew around her face. Large dark eyes flashed with worry as she hurried over. “What is going on here, mija? You scared me to death with that call, young lady.” She looked around, and her hand went to her chest. “Oh, no, Amy’s Jeep is...” She went to her heels beside Rachel. “Oh, mija, are you all right?” She glanced at Brenda and then to John. “Is she going to be all right?”

“Her leg needs to be x-rayed.” Brenda spoke to John. “We have it stabilized. You can take Rachel to the hospital yourself. Steve and I are taking Amy to Uvalde.”

Maggie turned back to John. “You take Rachel.” She put a hand out to rub the slim back of John’s youngest daughter. “We’ll take care of Celeste. You won’t feel right until you have Rachel all safe and sound. I’ll start the prayer chain.”

“Are you sure, Maggie?” Torn, he pushed his daughter’s loose curls behind her ear, hesitating. “Maybe I should take Celeste with me.”

“You don’t know how long you’ll be there. We’ll make sure she eats lunch. I’d get you something to eat, too, but I know you won’t touch a thing until you see for yourself Rachel is fine. So go on with you.”

“Thank you, Maggie.” With a finger under her little pointed chin, John lifted his tiny daughter’s face up to his. “Do you want to stay with Aunt Maggie?”

She nodded slowly and, to his surprise, reached for Lorrie Ann. Maggie’s niece extended her arms, pulling the little precious body from him. He reluctantly let her go.

In truth, he wanted to hold on to her forever, but he needed to get to Rachel and focus on her. “Lorrie Ann, thanks for being here and staying with them.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

Her smile held him mesmerized for a moment, until he heard Maggie’s gasp. She had noticed the bruise under Lorrie Ann’s eye.

“Were you hurt, too?”

“No. It’s just a bump. Go on,” she said to him. “You need to get Rachel to the doctor.”

As a pastor, he had gotten good at spotting a guilty face, and Lorrie Ann’s screamed guilt as she sliced a look back from him to her aunt. They both knew the bruise had been there before the accident.

With a last kiss on Celeste’s forehead, he promised to return soon.

* * *

Lorrie Ann watched as John carried his injured daughter across the street. Her heart ached at the careful tenderness he used to settle her in the cab of his old Ford.

She wondered what it felt like to be cherished that way. With a shake of her head, she forced her attention back to the child and Aunt Maggie. “Well, ladies, ready to go to the house?”

“I want to ride in the zebra car.”

“No, you go on with Lorrie Ann. I’m going to speak to a few people.” Maggie turned and cut off a small crowd heading their way, sacrificing herself to the persistent string of questions. Lorrie Ann gratefully dodged the mob and hurried to her BMW.

She buckled her new friend in and headed for the ranch house up the hill.

“Do you live close by, Celeste?”

Celeste twisted and stretched from her seat belt, looking out the window. Her blond curls bounced with each bob of her head.

“Yes, ma’am, we live in the big cabin there—the one behind Aunt Maggie’s house.” She pointed and turned back to Lorrie with a grin.

Lorrie fought the urge to bang her head against the steering wheel. Of course they did. Where else would he live, other than the cabin a few steps from her aunt’s back door?

Chapter Three

Lorrie Ann paused at the wrought-iron gate that led to the terra-cotta-paved courtyard. Wisteria and roses climbed the white stucco walls. The large ranch house rambled off both sides of the patio. Lorrie Ann smiled at the turquoise door.

All the hours and years she’d spent waiting for her mother to come back rushed in and filled her mind.

“Are we waiting for Aunt Maggie?”

The child’s voice pulled her back to the present. She smiled down at the rumpled-looking doll and took the small hand in hers.

“No, just caught up in some memories.” Pulling air through her nose and slowly releasing her breath, she took one step forward. “Let’s go to the kitchen door. I bet she has something we can heat up for lunch.”

Obviously familiar with the home, Celeste headed to the breezeway. The traffic-worn stones gave testimony that family and friends went straight to the back door.

Stepping into the kitchen, Lorrie Ann had the unexpected urge to cry. Spices from all the meals cooked over the years lingered in the air. The clay bean pot and flat cast-iron griddle sat on the old white stove.

“Did you live here when you were a little girl?” Celeste asked as she twirled in the middle of the large open kitchen. “I want tortillas. Do you think she has some papas?”

“Now, that is a word I have not heard in a while.” Lorrie Ann opened the refrigerator door and dug around until she found an old margarine tub with cubed potatoes that had been panfried. “Here we go—papas!”

“And tortillas!” Celeste held a wicker basket of tortillas like a trophy. “But I’m not allowed to touch the stove.”

Lorrie Ann turned on the burner and adjusted the flame.

“After school, my cousin, Yolanda, and I would race in here to fight over the first tortilla.” Maggie’s daughter always argued that since she was younger by four years and it was her mother who made them that she should get the first one.

At the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room, Celeste jumped on a stool and started spinning in circles. “Is Aunt Maggie your real aunt? Did your mom and dad live here, too?”

“Maggie is my mom’s older sister. My mom traveled, so I just stayed here.” The story slipped from her lips naturally as she flipped the tortilla.

“What about your dad?” The child spun the chair in the opposite direction.

“My father?” A good question her mother never answered. “Um...well. He’s gone.”

“He’s dead?”

Lorrie Ann gasped. “Oh, no.” What had she done? “Oh, oh, no. I mean...I don’t know. No, uh...” How did she get out of this?

“You don’t know? I’ll ask Daddy to pray for him. Rachel says he has the most important job in the world.”

Lorrie Ann scooped the potatoes into the warm tortilla. She glanced at the door. “Aunt Maggie should be here any minute.” With plate in hand, she turned away from the stove to face the child.

Celeste’s head popped up over a pyramid made of red cups. Her tongue stuck out between rows of tiny white teeth.

Lorrie Ann froze. “Oh, my...you...um...you need to sit down.”

“I just need to add the last guard to my castle.” She balanced the spoon against the side of the top cup, but as she pulled away, the whole structure collapsed.