Lone Star Holiday. Jolene Navarro
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Название: Lone Star Holiday

Автор: Jolene Navarro

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Современные любовные романы

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 СКАЧАТЬ