Home To You

“Well, I’m not one to tell tales, now. You know that, Carolyne dear, but then, when I feel something isn’t right, I’m not one to go hide, either. I’m not some fainthearted girl who simply swoons every time I see something like, well, you know…”

No, she didn’t know.

“So, I’m glad it was me that saw it. Yes, sister, and you, too. She always thinks I’m trying to best her, Carolyne. Anyway, we saw it. And I felt it my duty to call you.”

Margaret took a deep breath, but before she could continue, Mary’s voice came across the line. “There’s a strange woman on his front doorstep.”

“Mary. Get off that extension and let me handle this!”

Carolyne held the phone away from her ear, frowning. Margaret was usually the more practical of the two. What was going on?

“You aren’t telling her about the shenanigans, sister, so don’t you tell me to get off the phone.”

“If you would give me a minute.”

Carolyne sighed. Confused, but determined to wade through their chatter to find out just what was going on, she raised her voice firmly, “What woman?”

“I don’t think she’s addled or slow, mind you,” Margaret butted in over Mary. “To be honest, I don’t recognize her at all and I’m sure that Dakota won’t either. Anyway, we’re about to go over and talk to her.”

“We thought about reporting her to the police—” Mary added.

“She’s drinking.” This from Margaret who attempted to cut Mary’s words off.

“And she’s dressed, well…indecently,” Mary added, not to be outdone.

“Black boots up to her thighs,” Margaret supplied.

Alarmed, Carolyne sat up straight, both feet coming to rest on the floor. “Boots to her thighs?”

“And what she’s wearing would make anyone blush,” Mary said outrageously.

Alarmed, Carolyne tried to tell herself not to overreact. “I’m sure there’s some explanation…”

“There sure is,” Margaret said bluntly. “Your son needs you. He’s not eating supper at home and not getting home until late at night. He’s gotten to where it’s as late as midnight or more before he makes it home and now this woman is on his doorstep. He’s ruining his reputation!”

“Well now, sister,” Mary interrupted, “I wouldn’t say he’s ruining his reputation, but it is obvious that he needs Carolyne back home.”

“It’s scandalous,” Margaret sounded knowing.

“Maybe I should call him,” Carolyne’s mind whirled in a tizzy over the conversation these two women were attempting to have with her.

“He’s not home yet. Believe me, if he was, I’m sure that woman wouldn’t be lolling out on the front porch like she is.”

Mary added, “If you were here, everything would be fine. It seems like as soon as you left, Dakota went wild.”

“He always was the wilder of the two,” Margaret butted in to say.

“I have to agree with sister on that. But I think this is all some mistake. Dakota is a fine man. Still, he has no one here and I think he’s lonely.”

“Lonely?” Margaret scoffed. “He’s so busy he doesn’t know what lonely is. Carolyne, we tried calling Pastor Cody at the church and he wasn’t there. He’s making an early day of it, which means he’ll be home soon. If you want my advice, I’d suggest you get home as soon as possible. I think your son needs you.”

Carolyne’s mind raced.

Dakota didn’t need her at all. He was a grown man. Just as her daughter, Susan, was a grown woman.

But hadn’t she just been thinking about returning home?

She missed Texas and it was getting too cold here.

She missed her church and the familiar sounds and ease of her own house.

Of course, Dakota didn’t really need her, but would it hurt to go ahead and return home early?

“Carolyne, did you hear me?”

“Yes, Margaret, I did. Let me call the airlines, talk to my daughter and see what I can get done, all right?”

“Oh good,” Mary said breathlessly. “I’m so glad you’re coming back. We’ve missed sitting out on the porch with you in the evenings.”

“Never you mind that, sister,” Margaret admonished. “Her son is under attack and she needs to be here to restore his reputation. Now, get off the phone so I can hang up. Carolyne needs to make plans.”

Carolyne heard a click and then Margaret added, “We’ll be watching for you.”

“I need to make plans first,” Carolyne argued.

“No, Carolyne. You need to be here for your son,” Margaret’s uncharacteristically soft voice touched Carolyne. “Please, hurry home.”

Carolyne heard a click and shook her head.

She hung up the phone and then sat staring at it, unsure what was going on at her house. Dakota had been so busy that he rarely had time to call; and when he did, his reports were always filled with what he had to do the next day.

She hadn’t pushed talking about how he was doing because he was just so busy.

Maybe she should have.

Could he know the woman who was lounging on their front steps?

Surely not.

If the sisters had described the woman right…unless she was one of Dakota’s charity cases, he wouldn’t have anything to do with that type of female. Would he?

“Is everything all right, ma’am?”

For the first time, Carolyne noticed Cokie standing there next to her.

“I’m not sure, Cokie. But it looks like I need to go home and find out.”

“Ma’am?” Cokie asked.

“I need help packing. It sounds like my son needs me.”

Carolyne stood.

Cokie hurried off down the hall and Carolyne picked up the phone to call Susan at work, deciding to call Susan first.

If she planned it right, she could be back home in Texas by dinner.

Dakota Ryder sat in the seat next to his friend, Chase Sandoval. “I appreciate the ride home, Chase. Seems my car won’t be ready until tomorrow.”

“No problem, bud,” Chase replied, his familiar brown eyes glancing toward Dakota as he turned down the tree-lined street. “I can’t believe you still live out in this area, man. I remember the years we spent picking leaves up every fall, swearing when we grew up we were going to move where there were no trees.” He shook his head. “So, are you gonna hire someone to rake up all the leaves in your yard this fall?”

“You think it’s that bad?” Dakota chuckled.

“We spent too many years out there doing it to be forced into doing it anymore.”

Dakota laughed outright remembering their childhood adventures together.

“Maybe I’ll hire some kids from church. They’re getting ready for a winter trip they’re planning to take Christmas break, and Jeff has them offering to do jobs for everyone so they can earn money for their expenses.”

“Sounds like that new youth pastor of yours is working out.”

“He’s doing great. A year ago I couldn’t have imagined having this many young people attending church.”

“Ah, but when you step out on faith and do what God tells you to do…”

Dakota grinned and knew his own brown eyes reflected the humor of Chase quoting back what he’d told him so many times. “It’s my job to say that.” It sure was good to have his old friend back in town. “Yeah, we don’t know what God has planned for our future. The church has doubled in size, and we’re even looking into doing something special for families around town this Christmas.”

Chase turned onto Chippewa where Dakota lived. Dakota tried to look at his neighborhood from his friend’s point of view. It was an older area of Shenandoah, a town that wasn’t much younger than Fort Worth itself. The streets were laid out in straight lines from north to south and from east to west. Sidewalks graced each side of the street and huge old maple and elm trees filled the front yards. Leaves covered everything, including the streets. The breeze caught a few and they swirled up, dancing across the road in a flurry of movement and color, looking like one of the small twisters that so often invaded their land in the springtime.

The houses themselves were tall and square, mostly made of brick or whitewash, but smaller than the houses in the center of town, and not on such evenly divided lots. By the time a person reached the edge of town, it seemed like wilderness—nothing for miles except the many cattle ranches and a few farmers who grew wheat or cotton.

Dakota had grown up in the house he lived in now. A two-story whitewash, it had a front porch and a swing. Two huge maples stood in the front and a weeping willow and a vegetable garden graced the backyard. The garden had always been his mom’s favorite; she loved digging in it, but right now, as autumn deepened its hold, the garden was barren.

“Speaking of the church, it’s actually doing very well,” Dakota returned to the conversation. “With you back in town you might consider coming there if you don’t find another church.”

Chase hesitated. “Let me get moved in first.”

Because his car had broken down, Dakota had been forced to break his luncheon appointment. But as luck would have it, he’d seen Chase and they’d ended up having lunch together.

His friend wasn’t the joking, laughing person he’d remembered. His letters hadn’t revealed just how much Chase had suffered since his wife’s death. Dakota wondered if he’d backed off from God spiritually as well.

“Shenandoah sure has grown since I’ve been gone.”

Dakota nodded. “I guess twenty years ago everyone thought moving to Fort Worth was the way to go. Now everyone’s escaping back out to the small towns within a few hours of the big cities.”

“Too much corruption and pollution in the big cities.”

“Just why did you move back, Chase?”

Chase had been one of Dakota’s best friends growing up. In tenth grade he’d had to move away, but they’d kept in touch over the years through regular mail and e-mail. Last year Chase’s wife had died, and Chase had been left to raise their daughter alone.

“You mean besides the job as deputy sheriff?”

Dakota nodded as Chase pulled up at his house. “It looks just the same…except for the two old ladies standing in your yard.” Chase nodded toward the house.

Dakota followed his gesture and groaned.

Chase grinned. “What’s up with them?”

“That’s the Mulgrew sisters. Mary and Margaret. They live next door. Don’t you remember them?”

Chase’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute…you mean they’re still alive?”

Dakota nodded. “Alive and well and out to take care of me now that my mom is visiting Susan and helping take care of the twins.”

Chase unsnapped his seat belt and jumped from the sedan. Dakota followed suit. Reaching into the back of the car, he grabbed one of the two boxes he’d put in his car, intending to bring them home before his transmission had given out.

“I’ll help you with those,” Chase offered.

“You just want to see what the Mulgrew sisters have to say.”

Chase chuckled, the first real laugh he’d heard from his friend since meeting up with him again. “They were a pair back then.”

They started up the leaf-covered sidewalk toward the house. Mary and Margaret both wasted no time in hurrying toward them.

The shorter of the two, Mary, her light blue hair distinguishing her from her older (by only a few minutes) sister, who had silver hair, started forward. “It’s awful. I told her she shouldn’t be up there, but she just laughed in my face, didn’t she, sister?”

Margaret nodded. “And rather rudely. She’s had a nip.” Margaret motioned with her hand, as if tipping a bottle up, and then dropped it into her other hand, clasping them, worrying the white hankie that was in her other hand. “Bless your mother’s heart. If she saw that she’d turn white with shock.”

“Not sister and me though,” Mary added. “I do say, it is shocking, but then, we grew up in poverty and saw worse back then, though you didn’t flaunt it.”

“Well, you did if you were one of them,” Margaret lifted an eyebrow to match her superior tone.

“Margaret,” Mary admonished.

Dakota raised a hand. “Um, excuse me.”

Both women turned from each other to look at him expectantly. Before he could say a word, however, Margaret launched back into her speech. “We thought about calling the police but then, you are a pastor and are supposed to have mercy and we decided you’d probably seek out a homeless shelter—”

“Or something,” Mary added, not to be left out.

“I’m not sure…that is…” Dakota began trying to decide what to address first in all they had just said. These women had a way of turning his dark brown hair a bit grayer with every meeting. He was certain those first few gray hairs he’d found the other day were attributable to conversations like this.

“Have we met?” Margaret interrupted, staring oddly at Chase. “You look familiar.”

Chase cleared his throat. “I’m Chase Sandoval, ma’am.”

“Oh, yes!” Mary nodded suddenly. “You were that boy that liked to ride his bike through our yard.”

Chase actually blushed to the roots of his hair. “Oh, yeah, I’d, um…forgotten.” He cast a look at Dakota, hoping for help.

Dakota was still trying to figure out why he’d want to contact a homeless shelter.

“We certainly didn’t forget,” Margaret told him. “I always worried you were going to grow up to be a hoodlum. Looks like you turned out good—unless you’re here for counseling from Pastor Cody.”

“Pastor—”

“Cody…” Dakota acknowledged. “They’re the only ones who still call me that name.” He smiled patiently. “But he’s not. Here for counseling, that is. Which brings us around full court. Can you tell me, ladies, why I might want to call a homeless shelter?”

The sound of his swing creaking brought his head around to his porch—and his jaw dropped.

A woman, no more than five and a half feet tall, stood up. It wasn’t just a woman though, it was…he glanced at her outfit and saw why Margaret and Mary had worried about who was on his porch.

Moving past the two women, he headed toward the steps and slowly climbed to the porch. Father, guide me, he prayed silently, wondering how this woman had found his address.

Her black skirt hung at an odd angle and stopped just above her knees—it might have once been a possible accessory to a business suit. However, one boot was missing a heel, and her sweater hung off one shoulder, nearly exposing areas that Dakota had no business seeing. Her hair was ratted, big enough a bird’s nest could hide in it, and the smeared and caked-on makeup on her face easily added a pound to her weight—her very light weight. Her high cheekbones were gaunt, and her bleary eyes stared out at him from under mascara-smeared lids.

He didn’t miss the bottle of booze in her hand. Nor could he miss the smell. “Hello, I’m Dakota Ryder. Can I help you?”

Compassion filled him at the empty look in her eyes. Compassion and concern as she teetered on her feet. Taking a step forward, she waved the bottle. “How ya doing, Cody? We said we’d be best friends forever.” She giggled and took another swig of the bottle before tossing it over the porch rail and into the flower bed. “I’m here to be your sister.” With that, she threw out her arms, promptly lost her balance and fell headlong into the stunned arms of Dakota Ryder.

Chapter Two

“Whoa, Dakota!”

Chase came rushing up the stairs, dropping the box he’d been carrying, intending to help his friend.

Dakota lay, stunned, beneath an unconscious body that smelled like the sewers of Fort Worth, boxes scattered about him. Shifting, he managed to get to his knees and then lifted the woman into his arms. With Chase’s help, he stood. Then, fumbling in his pocket, he managed to find and toss his keys to Chase. “Will you get the door?”

“Sure thing.”

“Can we help?”

Margaret and Mary were both standing at the foot of the stairs.

Not sure what to say, he hesitated before finally nodding. “She’s gonna need some hot coffee and soup, if you wouldn’t mind.” The two women were eccentric but loved to help, and he knew they’d appreciate having something to do. Especially when they’d be able to tell the entire town, for months to come, how they’d gotten to assist the pastor in taking care of her.

Chase pulled the screen door open and then shoved the large oak door inward.

Dakota strode in, carefully carrying his bundle into his childhood home. His feet echoed hollowly on the old wooden floor as he crossed the foyer before stepping onto the rug near the sofa. Shoving two of the decorative pillows out of the way, he deposited his load on the brocade couch.

She was definitely out. Leaning forward to examine her, he held his breath. The fumes alone were enough to make him drunk. Dear God, who is she and why is she here? he prayed silently. Checking her pulse, he found it strong and steady. At least that was a good thing.

“I’ll get the boxes,” Chase murmured and left the house.

Dakota made a call to a friend who was a doctor, asking him to come by, and then he went to his closet to get a blanket. Actually, the less Mary and Margaret saw of the woman, the better. The less any of them saw, the better, he thought.

Bending down, he patted the woman’s cheek.

The screen door squeaked as Chase came back inside. “Your box is a bit banged up but it looks okay. Hope you don’t have anything breakable in it or the other one.”

Dakota blinked. His eyes watered at the smell the woman exuded. Going to a window, he shoved first one and then another open. “No. They were just papers and other things I had to go over. It’s getting close to the end of the year and we’re thinking of changing a lot of the church curriculum. We are also going over the mission budget and I wanted to review everything personally.” He shook his head at the smell as it filled his nostrils.

Chase sidled over toward the window. “No one can say life as a pastor isn’t interesting. Tell me, do you know her?”

Dakota started to shake his head then paused. “She said she was here to be my sister,” he murmured.

“That’s not sister’s garb she’s wearing,” Chase mocked.

Dakota shot him a look. “The words rang a bell. I just can’t place them.”

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself before moving back to her side. “It’s possible someone sent her to me for help. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time, though I think she managed to shock my neighbors, which is a first.”

“They remembered my bike,” Chase muttered.

Dakota finally grinned. “They don’t forget much.”

“You don’t say? That was over twenty years ago.”

Dakota nodded. “You should try living next door to them. Anytime I think of getting a big head over something, they remind me of things that promptly knock it back down. They’re also on the lookout for a woman for me.”

Chase shook his head, grinning.

“Yeah, and they used to question each girl I brought home for Mom to meet. Only after Dad died, that is.”

Dakota’s dad had died in a granary explosion ten years earlier, leaving his mom and her children dependent on each other. Dakota had done his best by working odd jobs to help take care of bills, hating to see his mom working in a nursing home cafeteria for a living. “The sisters were also a blessing during that time after Dad died,” he added, remembering. “Anyway, it’s been an adventure with them as neighbors.”

Silence fell.

Chase shifted on his feet, slipping both hands into his front pockets. His wavy dark hair hung forward over one eyebrow as he bounced on his heels. “So, have you figured out who she is yet?”

Dakota looked back at her. Very light skin and blond hair, whether it was real or not he wasn’t sure. The woman had a nice figure, not overblown but just right except she was a bit underweight. He would bet she’d clean up pretty and would probably be a knockout. Right now though, with her makeup smeared, black eyeliner making her look as if she had twin black eyes, he doubted her own mother could identify her. “Nope. I don’t know who she is. But it’s obvious she knows me.” The smell was actually subsiding, or maybe he was just getting used to it, but he realized it wasn’t bothering him as much now as it had a moment ago.

A knock on the door interrupted them. Mary and Margaret each carried a pot in their hands.

“That was certainly fast,” Chase murmured.

Dakota crossed to the door. “Come in, ladies.”

“Oh, we can’t stay,” Mary’s blue hair was bobbing as she came inside. “But here’s the coffee.”

“And here’s some soup left over from what we had yesterday. We had thought to bring it over to you today if you wanted it. So, it ended up here anyway.” Margaret gave him a warm smile.

Dakota took the time to return her smile and take the coffeepot from Mary. He crossed the wooden floor past the sofa into the dining room. Grabbing a hot pad from the side table, he placed it on the large round wooden table and then set down his load.

He turned and saw Margaret had followed him, so he did the same with the soup bowl.

“No hurry in getting these dishes back. You just take care of that woman on your sofa.”

Dakota glanced behind him at the door to the kitchen and thought about getting cups and bowls but decided that could wait. “Thank you, ma’am,” he murmured.

“She looks so bad.”

Dakota turned to see Mary standing near Chase, wringing her hands, staring at the woman on the sofa.

“When she wakes up you should make sure she bathes. But not here. That wouldn’t be proper. You’ll have to find somewhere else for her to clean up.”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” Dakota reassured Mary.

“You don’t want your mama’s reputation ruined, or yours, Pastor. Think about that,” Margaret informed him.

He nodded. “I will.”

Margaret reached out and patted his arm. “We should go, Mary, so the pastor can get about his work of converting this woman.”

Dakota saw Chase cover a smile with his hand. “Thank you both.” Dakota strode back through the living room to the screen door. “I’m sure the woman will appreciate the food—once she’s awake. You’ve saved me a heavy chore of having to cook.”

Both ladies beamed at the compliment. Mary actually giggled like a schoolgirl. “If you need anything else,” Mary called as they toddled out onto the wooden porch.

“I’ll be sure to call,” he affirmed.

Once they were safely down the stairs, Dakota let the screen door close.

Chase chuckled.

“They’re concerned,” Dakota informed him.

“I noticed.” Glancing around, he noted, “The place sure hasn’t changed much since we were kids.”

“You don’t think so?”

Dakota glanced around too, trying to see it through the eyes of his childhood. The old braided rug he’d grown up with continued to grace the middle of the room with the old-fashioned sofa and coffee table sitting on one edge. The brocaded chairs and love seat each had their own braided rugs. The fireplace still had family pictures on it. Both of the tall front windows had lace curtains just like when he was a child, but he had added miniblinds to them about five years ago.

The pictures on the walls had once been of oceans but his mom had talked so much about the prairie that for a Christmas present about four years ago, he’d bought her three new pictures. One was of a wooden fence and a windmill at sunset with only the flat plain behind it. The second was of an old ranch house and a horse grazing in the front yard. The third was the picture of a Native American on a horse, both drooping wearily.

The dining room had not changed, with the same side table and dining table as well as the cupboard. The dishes were the only thing different. In the kitchen, however, there were all new appliances.

Suddenly he realized that despite the changes he’d made, the house was still basically the same. “I guess I don’t see much reason to alter things,” Dakota murmured.

“Which is why you’re still here in town when many of us left and made the few hours’ bus ride to FortWorth.”

Dakota admitted he was right. He liked things to stay the same. He’d slipped easily into the role of pastor in town after he’d gotten back from his training. The entire time he’d been gone had seemed to be a waste. Now he wondered if that emotion hadn’t simply been his desire to be back home.