Lone Star Holiday. Jolene Navarro

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 СКАЧАТЬ