All Roads Lead to Texas. Linda Warren

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      “Ah, Mom. Hayden and Sara are on vacation and—”

      Ryan came to the rescue. “I have some errands to run in town. I can pick Cody up in about an hour if that’s okay with Callie.”

      “Sure. The kids need a break.”

      “Are you sure?” Kristin asked. “You’re so busy with the house and I must say it’s looking very nice.”

      “Thank you. You’re the first person to say that. Everyone else thinks I’m a lunatic for taking on this big house.”

      “But I love it.”

      “I do, too.” In that moment, Callie knew she’d found a friend. “And no, it’s no problem for Cody to stay. The kids are bored with all the cleaning.”

      “Okay.” Before the word left Kristin’s mouth, Cody darted into the house and stood between Adam and Brit.

      “I’ll be back in a little while,” Ryan called as the couple walked off.

      The kids played outside for a while, then they played games in the dining room. Mary Beth was feeling left out and trailed behind Callie. Callie told her to show Cody her fish and that did the trick. They lay on the floor watching Fred swim around, talking about fish. She could hear some big tales being told.

      There was another knock at the door and Callie put her rag down and went to see who it was. A tall, blond, good-looking man in boots stood there.

      He held out his hand with a smile. “Mrs. Austin, I’m Father Noah Kelley from St. Mark’s Episcopal Church.”

      She blinked in confusion. “Excuse me?” He didn’t look like any priest she’d ever seen and he didn’t wear a collar.

      “I’m Father Noah Kelley.” His smile broadened. “My dad is the rector at St. Mark’s. He had a stroke and I’m filling in.” Shaking her hand, he added, “Please call me Noah. I came by to invite you and your children to Sunday services, and of course, the children are always welcome to join our Sunday school classes.”

      “Oh. Thank you. But as you can see—” her hand swept around the place “—I have so much to do.”

      “There’s always time for God, Mrs. Austin.”

      Callie was duly chastised and felt color tinge her cheeks. “Please call me Callie, and I will try to make time.”

      The children’s laughter echoed from the parlor.

      “Do you mind if I speak with the children?” Noah asked.

      “Ah…no.” Stepping aside, she watched as he walked into the parlor and sat on the floor with the kids. She could see that he had a way with children. They were laughing and talking as if he were one of them.

      When Noah left, he called, “See you Sunday, Mrs…. Callie.”

      “Bye, Fath…Noah.” It would take a while before she was comfortable with calling a priest by his first name. But then, she had a feeling Noah was going to be easy to know. The kids missed going to church, so she just might take him up on his offer. Staying out of the limelight didn’t seem to be an option here in Homestead.

      Ethel arrived and Callie continued with the cleaning. It seemed like no time at all had passed by the time Ryan came back. Cody wasn’t ready to leave, but he went meekly, promising to return soon.

      At the door, Ryan paused, “My father is Clint Gallagher, a state senator, and he’s not real pleased with the Home Free Program. So if he gives you any flak, don’t pay him any attention. His bark is worse than his bite.”

      “Thanks for the warning. I’d heard there were some disgruntled people in town.”

      “For the record, I’m for the program. It brought Kristin back into my life.”

      “Oh?”

      He grinned, looking a little embarrassed. “It’s a long story and Kristin’ll probably tell you.”

      Ryan was obviously a man who didn’t like to talk, especially about intimate things. But he couldn’t hide the love in his eyes and Callie knew a lot of good was coming from the land giveaway. The last thing she needed, though, was a state senator breathing down her neck. She’d have to be very careful.

      Callie went back to work thinking love was a wonderful thing. Catching sight of Brit, she stopped. Her sister was staring out the window at the street. Callie knew who she was looking for. Wade.

      Wade had stayed away and Brit had asked about him every day. He’d promised her a ride on a horse and she wasn’t forgetting that, as Callie had thought she would. Seeing Brit so disappointed was disheartening. Soon she’d have to do something, but making friends with Wade was not a great idea. And she didn’t know why she thought about him constantly.

      She remembered the love and the hurt in his voice when he’d talked about his son. Wade had an inner compassion that was hard to resist. Her instincts were telling her to stay away from the sheriff. Her heart was telling her something entirely different. But then, what did her heart know? It had taken so many knocks lately that she was sure it was malfunctioning.

      Ethel was cleaning the woodwork and Callie went to find her, leaving Brit to her own devices. She’d find a way to make her dream come true.

      “Odell says you’re going to open a café here,” Ethel said, straightening from her stooped position over the baseboards.

      “Yes, I am.”

      Ethel frowned. “Do you know how to cook?”

      Callie paused in her sweep across a window. “Yes. Actually I went to school to learn.”

      “Went to school?” Ethel’s voice rose. “Well, don’t that take the biscuit. Never heard of such a thing. I learned to cook as soon as I could hold a spoon in my hand and stir. My daughters learned the same way. All nine of ’em, Edith Mae, Etta Mae, Erma Mae, Emma Mae, Earla Mae, Eva Mae, Ella Mae, Essie Mae and Eloise Mae.”

      Callie gaped at her. “Your girls have the same middle name and their first names start with an E?”

      “Sure do. Easier to remember ’em that way.”

      “But isn’t it confusing?”

      “Sometimes, but when they’re all home I just shout Mae and they all come running.”

      A smile tugged at Callie’s mouth. She could imagine that. When Ethel hollered in high-throttle sewing-machine mode, everyone had a tendency to run—in the opposite direction.

      Callie rinsed a rag in warm water. “Please tell me Odell’s middle name is not Mae.

      “Of course not. He’s named after his father, Odell Willard—everyone called him Willie. I went through ten births to give that man a son and what does he do? Up and dies on me. No warning, no nothing.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that, he’s gone and I’m left to raise ten kids alone.”

      “That had to have been hard.”

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