Amy was unable to stifle a smile. She’d started her job that Monday afternoon and had spent the first two days organizing Ellie’s desk. It was abundantly clear that Ellie had been putting off too much of her paperwork. This job wasn’t a fabricated one; Amy was convinced of that. Frasier Feed genuinely needed a bookkeeper and more. Her organizational skills had given her the opportunity to show Ellie how much she appreciated the job.
“Ellie’s a wonderful employer.”
“After your first day she told me she wondered why she’d delayed hiring someone.”
Amy had wondered that herself, but didn’t think it was her place to ask. If anything, she was grateful Ellie had waited; otherwise there wouldn’t have been an opening for her.
“I just finished seeing Dr. Patterson for the first time,” Amy said.
“Isn’t Jane terrific?” Dovie’s question was asked in an absent sort of way, more comment than inquiry. She added another perfectly formed long-stemmed rose to the arrangement.
“Yes…She mentioned she’s starting a birthing class in a couple of weeks.”
“Caroline Weston’s due around the same time as you.”
Amy wasn’t entirely sure who Caroline was. A friend of Dovie’s apparently.
“I’m going to need a birthing partner,” Amy blurted out, thinking if she didn’t ask soon, she never would. “Dr. Patterson…Dr. Jane assured me I could attend the class alone, but then she suggested I ask you to be my partner.” She dragged a deep breath into her lungs and hurriedly continued, “I realize it’ s an imposition and I want you to know that I…” She let her sentence drift off.
Dovie’s hand stilled and she glanced up, her eyes wide. With astonishment? Or perhaps it was shock; Amy didn’t know which. Her initial reaction had been accurate. Asking something this personal of someone she barely knew, someone who’d already helped her so much, was stepping over the line.
“An imposition,” Dovie repeated. “Oh, no, not to me. Not at all. I’d consider it an honor.”
“You would? I mean, Dovie, you and Frank have done so much for me and the baby. Letting me stay in his house…I can’t tell you how grateful I am. Thank you. Thank you.” If she didn’t leave soon, Amy feared she’d embarrass herself further by bursting into tears.
“Just let me know when the first class is scheduled, all right?”
Amy nodded. “Jenny said she’d have all the information for me at my next appointment.”
“We’ll make a great team.” Dovie’s eyes gleamed with confidence; she gave every indication of being delighted that Amy had asked her. Just like Dr. Jane had said.
Amy had almost stopped believing there were good people left in this world, and then she’d stumbled on a whole town of them.
DENISE PARSONS HAD NEVER been friendly with Louise Powell. The woman enjoyed gossip and meddling far too much. The minute Louise entered the café, Denise could tell she wanted something—and she sincerely doubted it was the French-dip luncheon special.
Sighing with resignation, Denise filled a glass of water and reached for a menu, then approached the booth.
“Hello, Denise,” the other woman purred.
Yup, she was after some juicy gossip all right, but Denise hadn’t a clue what it might be. Well, whatever Louise hoped to learn had brought her into the bowling alley on a Thursday afternoon, which was highly unusual.
“Hello.” She returned the greeting with a certain hesitation. She didn’t enjoy being a party to Louise’s type of friendship. “What can I get you?”
“Coffee would be great.”
“Would you like anything with that?” Tex had been after her to push desserts. With one of the ranchers she might have suggested a slice of rhubarb pie, but personally she preferred to have Louise in and out of the café in record time.
“I understand you were the first one to speak with that new gal in town,” Louise said, instead of answering Denise’s question.
Denise wasn’t sure who she meant.
“The pregnant one.”
So Amy Thornton was the reason for this visit. Denise hadn’t noticed Amy was pregnant until she’d stood up to leave. Louise stared at her, anticipating an answer. “Yes, I talked to her.” She couldn’t see any point in denying it. “Did you say you wanted anything with the coffee?” she asked again.
“Nothing.” Louise righted her mug and gazed up expectantly.
Denise wasn’t about to let the town busybody trap her into a lengthy and unpleasant conversation; she promptly disappeared. She was back a minute later with the coffeepot and a look that suggested she didn’t have anything more to add.
Oblivious to anything but her own curiosity, Louise was ready and waiting. “What did she say?”
“Who?” Denise asked, playing dumb.
“That unwed mother,” Louise snapped.
“She asked about the breakfast special.”
Louise’s eyes narrowed. “Did she mention the baby’s father?”
Setting the coffeepot down on the table, Denise leaned closer as though to share a secret. “She did say something interesting.”
The rhinestones in the older woman’s hat sparkled as she scooted closer to the end of the booth. “What?”
“She asked…” Denise paused and looked both ways.
“What?”
“If we served sourdough bread.”
The keen interest in Louise’s eyes changed to annoyance. Her back went stiff and she straightened, moving away from Denise, implying that it didn’t do her image any good to be seen associating with a waitress. “I can see we have nothing more to discuss,” Louise said primly. “And furthermore, this coffee tastes burned.”
“I made a fresh pot less than thirty minutes ago.” Denise had a son in junior high, a kid with attitude. If she wanted someone to insult her and question her abilities, she could get it at home; she didn’t need to go to work for it.
With her lips pinched, Louise scrambled out of the booth. She slapped some change down on the table and walked out the door, leaving it to swing in her wake.
“What’d that old biddy want?” Tex shouted from the kitchen.
“She’s trying to make trouble, is all.” Denise put the coffeepot back on the burner. “Asking about Amy.” The unwed mother was fair game in Louise’s eyes, Denise realized sadly. The poor girl was doing the best she could and Denise hoped everything would work out well for her and her baby.
“Did you tell her to leave the kid alone?” Tex demanded, none too gently.
“I did,” Denise shouted back. In her own way she’d given Louise as good as she got, and she felt a small but definite sense of triumph.
WADE HAD KNOWN AMY WAS scheduled to visit Jane on Thursday morning, so he waited until later that evening to visit her. The last time they’d talked had been Sunday morning.
He’d be lying if he didn’t admit how pleased he’d felt when Amy showed up for church services. Frankly he’d been more than a little surprised. In his years of serving as a pastor, he’d learned a number of lessons about human nature, not all of them positive—and as a result he’d suffered his share of disappointments. He sincerely hoped Amy wouldn’t turn out to be one.
Richard Weston had certainly tested his faith in people. The youngest of the Weston family had shown up in Promise after a six-year absence and taken advantage of the kindness and goodwill of the community. Just when his underhandedness was about to be exposed, he’d disappeared. Eventually he was found—hiding in a nearby ghost town—and returned to New York to stand trial on charges stemming from a scheme that had involved cheating and abusing immigrants. Wade had spent many an evening with Grady Weston and his sister, Savannah Smith, helping them come to terms with what their brother had done—to them and to others. Richard was serving a twenty-five-year prison sentence, and it was unlikely he’d ever come back to Promise. Not that anyone wanted him to.
His experience working as a pastor had given Wade a sixth sense about people. He’d seen through Richard Wes
ton almost immediately, but unfortunately had been unaware of the man’s schemes until too late. Even knowing Richard for what he was, Wade had been shocked by the extent of his perfidy and the horror of his crimes.
He liked Amy and trusted her, not that he was looking for her gratitude. Actually he’d done little more than point her in the right direction. Ellie hadn’t hired her simply because she needed a job. And rightly so. She’d hired Amy because of her qualifications.
Home and job—everything had fallen neatly into place. Then on Sunday morning Amy had arrived in time for the morning service, looking almost afraid. Her expressive brown eyes told him she was expecting someone to tell her she should leave. Expecting someone to tell her she didn’t belong in a house of God. Wade swore if anyone had so much as tried, he would…He stopped, not realizing until that very moment the depth of his feelings.
He was proud of the way his flock had welcomed Amy Thornton into the fold. Proud of each and every one of them, even Louise, who—so far, anyway—had shown more curiosity than malice.
Wednesday morning Ellie Patterson had phoned Wade to thank him for finding such a whiz of a bookkeeper. Wade couldn’t accept full credit; he’d had no idea Amy was a gifted organizer. He smiled, pleased that everything was working out so well.
He rang the doorbell and waited. It might have been best had he phoned first, but he’d learned early on in his pastoral career that if he did phone, most people invented excuses to keep him away. He’d never understood what they feared. Women seemed convinced he’d march right into their kitchens and inspect the inside of their ovens. Men seemed to worry that he might catch them enjoying a bottle of beer—when in reality he’d have been happy to join them.
Involved in these thoughts, Wade stepped back in mild surprise when the door opened and Amy stood on the other side.
“Hello,” she said, brightening when she saw who it was.
He wasn’t accustomed to people actually being pleased to find he’d unexpectedly dropped by. “I thought I’d see how the doctor’s appointment went this morning,” he said.
Amy held open the screen door for him. “Come in, please. I just finished making a batch of sun tea. Would you care for a glass?”
“Sure.”
Amy had been living at Frank’s house for only a week, and already Wade saw subtle changes. She’d draped a shawl over the back of Frank’s shabby recliner, and a vase of fresh-cut flowers rested in the center of the coffee table. The wooden floors shone, the windows sparkled; the books were dusted and straightened. A women’s magazine lay open on the sofa.
“Make yourself comfortable,” she said and disappeared into the kitchen. She returned a couple of minutes later with two glasses of iced tea. She explained that it was a lemon herbal tea to which she’d added a sprig of fresh mint.
“I hear you were in to see Dr. Jane.”
Amy nodded, then sipped from her glass. “She’s wonderful.”
“We think so.”
“I was a little worried because I was a couple of weeks overdue for an exam, but she assured me the pregnancy is progressing nicely.”
Wade noticed how she pressed her palm against her abdomen as she spoke. It was an unconscious movement, he suspected. If he hadn’t known about the pregnancy, he probably wouldn’t have even guessed her condition. The swelling was slight and could almost be attributed to body type.
“I’ve signed up for birthing classes and Dovie has agreed to be my partner.”
“Dovie,” Wade repeated. “That’s great.” She was a perfect choice. Dovie loved children; a couple of months ago she’d surprised him when she volunteered to teach Sunday-school class for two and three-year-olds. What amazed him even more was that Frank had joined his wife one recent Sunday. It’d been difficult enough to get Frank Hennessey to darken a church door—but teaching Sunday school to a group of preschoolers? That had left Wade with his mouth hanging open in shock. Frank Hennessey seemed full of surprises lately, attributable, no doubt, to Dovie’s influence. She’d be good for Amy, too, he mused. And vice versa…
“It all seems so real now,” Amy was saying. “Dovie seemed pleased about going to the birthing classes with me.”
Wade sat back on the sofa. “Have you decided what you’re going to do about the baby?” he asked. This was a difficult subject, but one that needed to be addressed.
“How do you mean?” Amy asked.
“Have you made any decisions about the baby’s future?”
“Are you asking me if I’ve decided to put my child up for adoption?”
He was pleased she understood his intention without his having to spell it out. This was such a delicate subject. Emotions could be volatile and he wasn’t trying to steer her in one direction or another. At twenty-five Amy Thornton was perfectly capable of making up her own mind.
“I’m not here to pressure you in any way,” he told her.
“In the beginning I considered all my options.” She paused and he saw the muscles in her throat work as she struggled within herself. “The man I loved…who I thought loved me…wanted me to end the pregnancy. My mother, between calling me names, wasn’t willing to offer any type of support. She said she wanted nothing to do with me again.” Amy regarded him steadily. “Thank you, Wade.”
“You’re thanking me?”
“You’re the first person in nearly six months to ask what I want for my child.”
He noticed the sheen in her eyes. “So, what have you decided?”
Her hand went back to her abdomen. “I’m an adult and I have good job skills. Ellie seems to think the part-time position will develop into full-time employment. While I don’t have a lot of discretionary income and finances will be tight, I’ve decided to raise my baby myself.”
The decision hadn’t been easy, Wade knew. He could tell from the look on her face. She was afraid, vulnerable and alone, but she seemed to have found peace with that. It was everything he needed to know.
“I left Dallas because of my baby,” Amy said. “The baby’s father…well, let me just say that he’s out of my life and there’s no possibility we’ll get back together.” She paused and then, unable to hide the pain in her voice, she whispered, “My mother has disowned me.” Her voice grew stronger. “The baby and I are a package deal, and seeing that I’ve already made two rather unpleasant stands on Sarah’s behalf, I figure I’ll stick it out for the long haul. I’m very much looking forward to being a mother.” This part was added with a smile and something more. Inner peace.
Amy Thornton hadn’t come to this decision without struggle, Wade realized. It wasn’t one she’d made lightly.
“I don’t understand the question, though,” she said, her mood abruptly shifting into amusement.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought you were the miracle man, Reverend McMillen.”
“Well, yes…I suppose, but…”
“Don’t go backing out on me now,” she said, placing her hand on her hip in mock outrage. “The first time we met, you made it quite clear that you were capable of producing whatever I needed.”
“Hey, I found you a house and connected you with Ellie, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did and don’t think I’m ungrateful. But if you’ll remember, you also promised to find me a father for my baby.”
DOVIE POSTED THE NOTICE for the big Grange dance in her shop window. Next to the rodeo and chili cook-off, this function, sponsored by the Cattlemen’s Association, was one of the biggest social events of the year.
At the dance the previous summer Glen Patterson had made a fool of himself over Ellie. It was one of the incidents that had led—indirectly—to their marriage. Glen had been a little slow to figure out how he felt about Ellie, and Richard Weston had leaped into the breach. Which had helped Glen clarify his own feelings. Certainly Richard was none too happy when Ellie chose to marry Glen, but Dovie strongly suspected Ellie’s recent inheritance had been the key to Richard’s interest.
Vulnerable as s
he’d been at the time, it was little wonder Ellie hadn’t seen through Richard the minute he started showering her with attention. Eventually she had, of course—with no help from Glen, Dovie mused.
She finished taping up the notice for the dance, then stepped outside to make sure it was positioned straight. The day was lovely, the midmorning still cool with a slight breeze. The reader board at the bank alternated the time and the temperature, and Dovie noted it was seventy-four. By late afternoon it’d be close to ninety.
A great many changes had come about since last year’s dance. Several marriages, births, including Savannah and Laredo’s daughter. Caroline Weston, the town’s postmistress and Grady’s wife, was showing nicely now and was as pretty as Dovie had ever seen her. She all but glowed with happiness. It wouldn’t have surprised Dovie if Ellie or Jane decided to start their families soon, too. Those stubborn Patterson men had waited until their midthirties to get married. Better make up for lost time, Dovie thought with a wicked grin.
“What’s that?” Amy Thornton asked, startling her as she walked up behind Dovie and read the sign.
“The Cattlemen’s Association puts on a big dance at the Grange Hall every year.”
“Oh.” Amy sounded sorry she’d asked.
“You’re going, aren’t you?”
Amy shook her head. “Not like this.”
“Like what?” Dovie challenged.
The younger woman cradled her protruding stomach. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Dovie, I’m six months pregnant.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
Amy shook her head. “I couldn’t attend a dance.”
“Why not, in heaven’s name?”
“I…just couldn’t.”
“If you’re worried about having something appropriate to wear…”
“I don’t have anything appropriate, but that’s only part of it. I realize these are modern times, but I’d still need a date.”
Dovie smiled. “No, you wouldn’t. My heavens, plenty of ranchers attend the dance without a partner, and gals, too. Don’t you worry, you’ll have more men buzzing around you than a can of fresh cream.”