Abby skimmed her palms across Guy’s physique as she slid them away from his back and up the front of his chest. She stood on tiptoe, locked her hands behind his neck and pulled his face within a couple inches of hers.
“I have a revelation for you.” She was bold.
“Is that right?”
“Yes, sir.” She nodded, drawing out the moment, enjoying the closeness of a man more than she ever thought possible.
“Well…” He leaned in to her. “How about sharing it?” The words were a husky whisper.
“If that kiss had lasted a moment longer, I’d have returned it.” She recognized the same quality in her own voice. The feelings were painfully evident, at least to her ears.
He turned his face from side to side, searching the dark confines of the small porch. “I don’t see anybody or anything stopping you from doing that now.” He stilled, gave her control of the decision.
Her blood raced, pulse resounded in her ears. If she waited another second her knees were going to buckle and he’d have to catch her, or worse help her up off the concrete floor.
She risked the smallest beginning, let her lips softly touch his. He sighed and took the control back as his mouth covered hers, searching her very soul with his kiss. They clung together for long minutes, exchanging tender touches and murmured words.
He pulled away, took a step back and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Abby, I’m so tempted to do that again. Please go inside before I forget all the reasons why this is a bad idea.”
Bad idea?
The sweetest kiss she’d ever experienced was just condensed into two words.
Bad idea!
“You’re right, of course.” She ducked her head and passed the back of her hand across her lips, still trembling from his touch.
A bolt of lightning split the sky above their heads. A clap of thunder resounded close enough to set off the alarm in the H&H truck. Guy pulled the keys from his pocket just as the heavens opened and released enough rain to turn the narrow driveway into a new tributary of the Colorado.
“I’ll call you,” he yelled over the torrential pounding on the roof, and made a run for it.
Abby’s sinking spirits lifted at the sight of Guy’s drenched body struggling with the door that wouldn’t open until the alarm was disengaged, something that seemed to take several tries before he was successful. By the time he scrambled into the truck, he was soaked to the skin.
She opened the screen door, stepped inside the quiet house and watched as the man who’d just called their kiss a bad idea disappeared into the downpour.
If, as Texans claimed, the Lone Star State was God’s country, then Austin had turned into His swimmin’ hole! The rest of the week it rained as if Noah himself had called it down. The thoroughfares flooded; the mayor asked all but emergency vehicles to stay off the streets and naturally, school was canceled. Critical days of test preparation were lost and would have to be recovered somehow. It was makeup work that weighed heavily on Abby’s mind since her kids’ placement in the year-end skills tests was a direct reflection on her teaching ability.
Then there was the misery of being confined to the stuffy house when they’d all rather be outside, Dillon digging in his sandbox, Daddy making his daily commute to visit Mama and Abby doing the hundred things that needed to be accomplished that week. The weather would set her back much more than the couple of days it lasted because it would be many more before the earth dried out enough to continue the playground project.
Mother’s Day was closing in. Instead of being the happy celebration it had been in the past, it was looming on the calendar, a deadline with so much riding on it.
Friday morning the phone jangled at 6:00 a.m.
“Who in blue blazes is making calls at this hour?”
“I’ve got it, Daddy,” Abby called toward her parents’ bedroom as she cinched the belt of her cotton robe and reached for the wall phone that hung just inside the kitchen door.
Who indeed? Only the rehab center would be calling so early, though she wasn’t about to say so. She planted her feet, grabbed the handset and prepared for the worst.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, sunshine!”
“Guy?” Her voice rose.
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
She glanced at the kitchen clock for confirmation.
“Well, it’s barely six and I was afraid it might be the hospital calling.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, hon. I wouldn’t worry you like that even for a moment.”
“It’s okay. What’s up that has you on the phone so early?”
“First, I wanted to apologize for not calling to check on you for a few days. I’ve been really busy with a Mother’s Day deadline of my own, but I wanted to make it a priority to see if you needed anything this morning.”
“I need the sun to come out today and dry up all this water so I can get something done this weekend. Now we’ll never be ready for the dedication.” She sounded whiny. Well, shoot, she had a right to be disappointed. The results of her hard work were probably being washed away as they spoke.
Guy chuckled on his end of the phone.
“Please tell me what you find amusing about that.”
“Get your jeans on and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. The water has subsided on the major roads so we can go for a ride and I’ll show you.”
“I can’t go off and leave Dillon alone with Dad, and I have to be at school by noon.” The rain had let up overnight and teachers had been asked to report to work by midday.
“We’ll take Dillon with us and I’ll have you back home by nine. I’ll treat us all to a hearty breakfast at Flapjack Heaven. Those genius Carlton brothers just opened up their hundredth location not too far from New Harvest and they’re giving away all kinds crazy of prizes to celebrate. I thought I might get some ideas for the picnic this weekend. Then afterwards, we can drive by the church and see how the place has held up against the weather.”
Abby dragged a hand through her tangled mess of curls. She knew she should decline, but the fluttering against her ribs at the thought of how Dillon would enjoy an outing with Guy, especially after a couple of days of being shut in the house, was too much to resist.
Her inner voice called her bluff. Who are you fooling, kiddo? Don’t blame the desire to be with a man who recently called your kiss a “bad idea” on your innocent son. Guy works on a Mother’s Day project and you melt. He offers you a ride to breakfast and you start fluffing your hair. Get a grip. The man is a rescuer and a do-gooder. Let him exercise his savior complex and then get back to the business of taking care of your family.
“Okay.” She stood and set her coffee cup in the sink. “You talked me into it. Give me time to get Dillon dressed and twist my hair into a knot and we’ll be ready to go.
“Perfect. And Abby?”
“Yes?”
“Leave your hair down.”
Breakfast was a joy. Abby couldn’t remember when she’d had so much fun watching her son mutilate a meal. His stubby fingers were gummy with butter, syrup and pancake. His face was equally gooey but he’d managed to put away a plateful of silver-dollar flapjacks in record time.
Dillon played with the remnants of his breakfast, swirled his fingers on his sticky plate then held an offering aloft. Abby watched from across the table, astonished each time Guy accepted a bite, smacked his lips with a loud “Yum, yum, yum!” making Dillon squeal with delight.
“What?” Guy asked her when she smiled at him.
“You’re incredible with my son. I have to confess I’m a bit reluctant to accept most of his mealtime offerings.”
“You washed his hands before we were seated, and he basically had the same thing on his plate that I had on mine.” Guy defended Dillon. “He’s learning to share, to be generous. I wouldn’t dream of discouraging him.”
“You’re a big-hearted person.”
“I had great role models.”
“Your sisters again, I suppose?”
“Heck, no!” He smiled and rolled his eyes. “The gaggle taught me lots of things, that’s for sure. But I learned generosity from the men in our family. My dad and my eleven uncles all have hearts for giving. When Dad was raising the seed money for Hearth and Home it was our family who stepped up first. They believed in my dad and wouldn’t let him fail. I credit my parents’ siblings for the success we have today.” He took a sip of hot coffee and seemed to consider what he said next. His gaze locked on hers. “Abby, family is the most important thing in life to me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect the ones I love.”
She returned his stare. In the bottom of her stomach, her breakfast turned to stone as she interpreted the message he’d just delivered. He would line up against anybody who tried to come between him and family. And that included her. How many times and how many ways did he have to tell her he had all the family he needed?
Dillon cocked his arm back and flung the last bite of mushed-up pancake. It sailed several feet, frapped against the wall beside them and skipped a sticky trail downward till it came to rest on the tile floor.
“Wow, with that arm our boy could be a closer for the Astros,” Guy joked, then took his napkin and scooped up the mess. “Think we should give him a hunk of biscuit to see if he can do that again?”
But Abby was already focused on cleaning Dillon’s squirming fingers with a wet nap. Anything to keep from thinking about Guy’s warning. And wasn’t that exactly what it had been? A warning that his family was precious to him and he’d protect them at all costs. That was an admirable quality in a man. She should be impressed. Instead she felt threatened, alone, on the outside looking in.
He stood. “Here, let me help.” He slipped strong hands against Dillon’s sides, scooped him out of the high chair and held him dangling at arm’s length so she could wipe him down. The room filled with the sound of her son’s bubbly laughter as he kicked thick-soled sneakers and enjoyed the game.
“Guy! Wheet, wheet!”
“Little buddy, as flattering as it is to me and the blue jays, we need to teach you some more words. I’m gonna bring some treats tomorrow so you can feed the animals and learn their names.”
“Animals?” Abby looked up from her effort to remove maple syrup from Dillon’s chubby legs.
“Sure. The petting zoo is always a favorite.”
“You mean you haven’t canceled the picnic?”
“You don’t think we cancel H&H events just because of a little rain, do you?”
“A little rain? Even by Texas standards this week’s rainfall has been a gully washer.”
“And that’s why we always have a backup plan for our employee events. We go all out to show them our appreciation. It’s part of what makes our work atmosphere so special.” He cuddled Dillon in the crook of a strong arm and tossed several bills on the table.
“Backup plan, huh?” She slung the ever-present diaper bag over her shoulder.
“The Hardy family is famous for our backup plans. We don’t like to let anything come between us and a deadline. Tomorrow you’ll witness it on a corporate scale, but right now you’re about to see what the Warden is capable of on her own.”
Abby took a step away from Guy and drew her chin to her chest, scared turtle style.
“Oh, my. What could Casey possibly be up to in this weather?”
What indeed!
Ten minutes later Abby got her first exposure to the work of Casey Hardy when she was racing ahead of a deadline. The half acre of land behind New Harvest Church looked as if it were being treated as a hazardous-substance spill site!
“What in the…” Abby was literally lost for words. The last of the drizzle had stopped during their breakfast. Morning sun angled through the clouds and glinted off the slick parking lot. She climbed from the truck and stood transfixed, staring at the sight while Guy helped Dillon from his car seat.
An enormous navy-blue tent any traveling circus would be proud to own had been erected. Industrial-size generators powered pumps that blew air into the top of the protective covering, then sucked streams of water around and past the booms strung end to end to prevent leakage beneath the tent. The thing moved with a breathing motion like those big blow-up moon walks kids loved at the school carnivals.
“This is why I laughed when you said you wouldn’t be ready for the dedication on Mother’s Day. Casey never leaves anything to chance. You put her second in command and, by golly, she’s not going to fall short of the goal.”
“How…? What…?” Abby was dazed, downright amazed by the sight before her. And even more so considering nobody had phoned to tell her this was going on.
“Come on.” He touched her arm, gently urged her toward the flap of canvas folded back to mark the entrance. “All the answers are waiting inside, so go see for yourself.”
Lively praise music poured from the opening as they approached. A female sang along, the effort heartfelt and robust even if off-key. Abby quirked an eyebrow at Guy, unable to hold back a smile.
“Yep, it’s a family curse,” he said, reading her mind. “None of us can carry a tune in a bucket except for our mom. She has an angel’s voice and the rest of us croak like bullfrogs.”
“Well, the message of the music is more important than the messenger anyway, right?”
“Still doesn’t stop some people from wanting to shoot the messenger to spare their ears.” He grinned and swept his palm outward, her cue to precede him into the tent.
Abby ducked her head, stepped through the opening and stood as if hypnotized, wide eyed, stunned. Floodlights suspended upon tall poles filled the area with artificial daylight. The whirling blades of several huge cage fans blew a mechanical breeze that stirred the grass and the flowering plants, heavy with blooms sure to burst with a cornucopia of color just in time for Mother’s Day.
She risked a step forward, expecting to sink into soggy soil. But the ground beneath her feet held firm, completely dry, as if the soaking rains had never touched this quarter acre of Texas. In the center of the playground Casey worked atop a tall ladder, her back to the new arrivals, unaware of their presence. She sang with gusto, unconscious or unconcerned for the screeching quality of her voice. She fished a tool from the leather belt fastened low around her hips and tightened the chain for the swing dangling before her.
Abby moved closer, noted the gleaming paint on each refurbished piece of equipment, the benches restored with new planks rubbed to a smooth finish, the colorful walkway laid of mix-and-match tiles that led to an arbor-covered sandbox complete with an artist’s backdrop of blue skies, fluffy white clouds and a floating castle.
A lot of effort had been expended in the past couple of days. A lot of effort. Almost everything she’d intended to do had been completed. There was hardly anything left for her to work on.
As with the day Guy had materialized at her home and taken over the things she and her dad had planned to accomplish together, she felt loss well up and sting her eyes. She was unnecessary. Redundant. Replaced. How could she ever claim this small plot of land as a tribute to her husband? Her plan had been followed to the T but her fingerprints were absent from the finished product.
“Rebecca Thelma Casey,” Guy called above the fans and his baby sister’s singing. “You never cease to amaze me, girl.”
She turned a wide smile on her brother, dropped without fear off the tall stepladder and strode their way, her arms outstretched to fold Abby into a hug.
“It’s about time you got here,” she teased. “I’m badly in need of your expert guidance. I managed to keep the place from floating away, and I got all the little things done, but now it’s time to talk about the sculpture garden and how you want the area around the pecan tree to shape up.
“Well?” She kept one arm snug around Abby’s shoulders as they turned a slow circle together, surveying the results of her hard work. Then she wisely left Abby to consider a response, snatching up Dillon and playfully jiggling him into a fit of happy shrieks.
Guy moved close, put a warm hand on the small of Abby’s back. “So, what do you think?”
She lowered her voice and turned away from Casey’s hearing. “At the risk of sounding ungrateful, I think your extremely efficient little sister has just managed me out of my own project.”
“Ahhhhh.” He nodded, understanding. “That’s another family curse. We don’t just help out. We take over. Casey’s still gotta learn how to temper that tendency but thankfully I’ve mastered it.”
Abby spewed laughter, loud, unexpected and uncontrolled. She leaned forward from the waist, rested her hands on her knees and gave in to the irony of his ridiculous claim. Casey had called it on the nose when she’d said her brother had a savior complex. Yeah, that was it, aptly put for sure!
“Oh, that’s the best laugh I’ve had in weeks.”
He pushed his lips into an exaggerated pout. “I beg your pardon. Is that your way of saying you disagree?”
“That’s my way of saying you’re sadly mistaken if you believe for one minute that you’ve mastered your need to do extreme favors that rescue damsels in distress.”
His mouth pressed into a flat line. “Hmmmm, I guess you could have something there. But I’m not as bad as I used to be. I have made progress, I know I have.”
“You mean the way you’ve helped out with our house and practically become a member of my family is pulling back on the stick for you?”
“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point.” He held his palms up, warding off any further dispute.
“What are you two muttering about over here?” Casey had joined them with Dillon settled on her slender hip. He was more than happy to be in the arms of the woman who showered his blond head with soft kisses and goosed him in the back producing involuntary giggles.
“Your brother was giving me the family history on getting carried away with good deeds to the point of taking over. He seems to think he has that trait under control.”
Oddly, Casey didn’t crack up at the notion as Abby had. Instead she looked hard at Guy and nodded. “I think he has, actually. Compared to circumstances in the past where he ingratiated himself so quickly and thoroughly that ladies tried to drag him to the altar, I’d say he’s come a long way.” She looped her free arm through Guy’s, pulled him close and their stunning blue eyes locked. “He’s much better about stating his intentions up front and sticking with them for the sake of the family. Aren’t you, bro?”
“I have a way to go, that’s for sure, but I try not to focus so hard on the goal that I lose perspective on how I get there.”
“Well said.” Casey nodded her head then turned to Abby. “And while we’re on this subject, I hope you aren’t offended that I took so much liberty here. But I knew your time was running out and this weather would probably stop you in your tracks. We’ve had a similar situation during minor construction in the past and I knew this would work. So, I called in the cavalry before the weather set in, put up the tent and went to work.”
“You could have called me, too. I’ve been shut in the house for the past couple of days when I could have been helping.”
“Yeah, and instead of looking rested and beautiful, which really annoys me by the way,” Casey complimented Abby with a wink, “and being caught up with those stacks of school papers Guy says you always have, you’d be worn to a frazzle and wouldn’t have enough stamina left to get through the rest of this deal.”
“She makes a good point,” Guy agreed with Casey.
“As usual,” she added, complimenting herself.
Guy stepped away from his sister, took Abby by the elbow and guided her to the small pecan tree surrounded by a low white fence.
“Now, as she said, Casey’s left a number of important decisions and details for you alone. So why don’t you tell us what you had in mind for right here.”
Abby stared at the sapling. Tried to conjure up Phillip’s picture in her mind’s eye. Nothing. Nothing would come. How could she have been his constant companion and not be able to envision him standing before her now? She looked at Dillon. At this age there were no signs of Phillip in their son’s features.
She squeezed her eyes tight, dropped her chin to her chest and tried to recall the most simple of Kodak moments in their lives; the senior prom, their wedding day, the first time she saw him in uniform. She could see the backdrops, the colors of their clothes and her own happy face. But Phillip’s was a blur.
The tears flowed, seeped through her lashes and trickled down her face. A slow dribble became a rush of emotion. She struggled to hold back the sobs but the force of the release shook her body. A strong arm settled gently around her shoulders, turned her slowly, pressed her to a solid chest. In the comfort of Guy’s embrace she crumbled, but he held her secure, pressed her to him for warmth, for strength.
He let her cry.
Guy pulled Abby tight against him, listened to her heart breaking and felt his crumble right along with it. And as his insides ached, he prayed.
Father, even in death he’s still her husband. She loves him with all her might. How much more obvious can it be that there’s no room in her life for another man. No room in her heart for me.