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Authors: Glynna Kaye

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BOOK: At Home in His Heart
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Bryce grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “This stuff isn’t easy, is it?”

Joe did laugh at that.

“No, sometimes it’s not. But I’m learning a lot from listening to the older guys in our men’s group. Guys who’ve been happily married ten, twenty, fifty years even. You should come.”

“Like I said before, I’m a newbie at all this. And I’m not married, so that makes me an odd duck at my age.”

“Would you be more comfortable meeting one-on-one? Just the two of us over lunch? Or after dinner one night each week?”

Bryce shifted his weight, mulling over the proposition. “You’d be willing to do that?”

“A guy in the navy did that for me. From what you’ve told
me, sounds like you had someone investing time in you while in the service, too.”

“Yeah, Keith Bradshaw, Sandi’s husband, to begin with. He laid the groundwork even though I didn’t know it at the time. Then a few years after Keith’s death, when I was searching for answers in earnest, another army guy and I started meeting together before he shipped out for home.”

“Just say the word.”

“Sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.” Bryce thrust his hand into the interior of the truck and the two men shook.

As Joe drove off, Bryce unsnapped the steel water bottle he’d strapped to his belt and took a long, slow drink.

Letting a girl boss you around?

I don’t know about this, Lord.

Is that why Keith let Sandi call the shots sometimes? Why he’d step back and let her have her way without argument on occasion? Kept his sense of humor about it? Even the very last time he’d seen his buddy, he’d been gleefully planning and plotting how to woo Sandi to his way of thinking about something she’d drawn a line in the sand over.

But he never got a chance.

His helicopter had crashed.

Recapping the water bottle, he clipped it again to his belt. Then he ambled out to dig more postholes, trying to decide when would be the best time to slip into the museum and check out that malfunctioning coffeepot outlet.

Chapter Thirteen

S
andi glanced at her watch. Seven-fifteen already? Shadows had grown longer with sunset less than half an hour away, but she’d been so busy she’d totally lost track of time. Where was Cate? She was supposed to have relieved her at six.

The historical society had decided not only to tap into the Fourth of July weekend horse-show crowds with a Navajo taco concession, but into the Main Street throng, as well. Sandi had volunteered to work the Saturday afternoon three-to-six shift at a snow cone concession outside Dix’s Woodland Warehouse.

Sharlene, naturally, hadn’t bothered to volunteer for anything.

Sandi finished with a customer, then pulled out her cell phone. “Cate? Hi, this is Sandi. At the snow cone stand.”

Through the phone a loudspeaker blared in the background.

“Hey, Sandi.” Cate sounded a bit breathless. “How are things going? Business is hopping here.”

“You’re at the horse show?”

“Yeah, these Navajo tacos are one popular item.”

Sandi pulled the folded activities schedule from the pocket of her sundress and spread it on the concession stand’s counter. “The agenda calls for you to take over here at six. It’s past seven. Will you be here soon?”

Dead silence.

“Cate?”

“I’m sorry, Sandi. I must have read it wrong. We have several hours of events yet to go. Twila called in sick, so we’re shorthanded.”

“You can’t come at all?” She glanced at her daughter, wandering over to chat with Sharon Dixon, who manned the sale tables next to them. “I have Gina here with me and it’s been a long day for her. I need to get her home and to bed at a decent hour.”

“I can’t leave here right this minute. Becky had to run to the store for more supplies. Look, let me call around. See if I can find someone to fill in for me here—or there, okay?”

With a not-so-good feeling gnawing in the pit of her stomach, Sandi hung up just as Gina’s weary countenance brightened.

“Uncle Bryce! Do you want a snow cone?”

The big bearded man walking along the street’s edge turned in their direction. He hesitated, then wove his way through the crowd. Stepped up on the Warehouse’s porch and approached.

“Well, look at you, little lady.” He tipped his hat back on his head, then his smile broadened as he tugged at a braided pigtail—the kind of smile that made a handsome man even handsomer. “An official snow cone maker.”

“Me and Mom have been doing this
all
afternoon.” She gave her brow a melodramatic swipe with the back of her cherry syrup-stained hand, then reached for his big one. Sandi cringed inwardly, wishing Gina hadn’t taken such an obvious liking to her father’s friend. “We sold a billion of them, Uncle Bryce.”

“Is that a fact?” He smiled at Sandi, taking in her belted sundress with an approving glance. “Must be the pretty sales staff.”

Her heart dipped, capsized, and it was all she could do to meet his gaze. “It’s cooling off now, so I don’t know how
popular something icy will continue to be. But it looks like the pizza vendor up the way is doing a booming business.”

“Have you two had dinner?”

That sounded suspiciously like the prelude to an invitation. “Gina has. I’m waiting for our replacement to get here.”

His forehead creased. “When’s that?”

“Over an hour ago, but she’s been delayed.”

“I’d be happy to pick up something for you. Just name it.”

“Thanks, but someone will be here soon, then we’ll head home.”

He studied her a moment, almost as if cognizant of being shown the door. He gave Gina’s hand a squeeze, then released it. “I need to take care of some business just up the street, but I’ll stop back and check on you two in a bit.”

He tipped his hat, his dark eyes locking on hers, and turned away to once again step off the porch and into the crowd.

She watched as he wove his way among the milling bodies where the thoroughfare had been closed off to accommodate an evening of old-fashioned square dancing. The sound of a fiddle tuning up tickled her ears.

He’d check on them later.

How long had it been since a man concerned himself about her? Seemed to need reassurance that everything was okay in her world? Ironic, wasn’t it, that it appeared to be a man who’d done his best to turn her and Keith’s universe upside down?

“You should have let him get you something to eat, doll. Even gone with him.” Sharon, straightening outdoor gear on her tables, nodded toward Bryce’s retreating form. “I could have watched over things here. He looks like a man who could use some company tonight.”

Did he?

“Mommy?” Gina tugged on her skirt. “When’s Uncle Bryce going to have kids to keep him company? Maybe I can go fishing with them.”

Sandi glanced at Sharon with a little-pitchers-have-big-ears look and slipped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. Sharon had no doubt heard the Uncle Bryce references, but Sandi’d tired of explaining and had given up correcting Gina.

“Not any time soon, honey. And if and when he ever does have kids, they’ll be tiny babies and won’t be big enough to go fishing with you right away.”

“Oh.”

Sandi peeked again at her watch, wishing Arizona went on daylight saving time like most of the country. Even before the sun actually set, the towering ponderosa pines blocked the light still filtering between the western clouds. She didn’t look forward to walking along the shadowy, tree-lined mile-and-a-half stretch home.

Early in the afternoon it seemed like a fun adventure to traverse the sun-bathed, graveled road. To avoid the glut of summer visitors fighting for a parking space. She never imagined it would be
dark
by the time they set off…

Nevertheless, the day’s effort had been worthwhile and with each coin dropped into the money bag, her spirits had risen. If museum revenues for the day and the horse show concession did as well as the snow cones, they should be good to go on the rent increase next month.

But what about the next one?

And the one after that?

Surely it wouldn’t come down to losing the museum while she was president? That she’d have to endure the shame of being at the society’s helm should such a disaster happen. She had to trust God on this one, or she’d be up all night worrying about it. Again.

She glanced at her watch once more. Now all she wanted was to get home to the cozy confines of Bradshaws-in-the-Pines.

Before dark.

True to his word, Bryce swung back by the Warehouse thirty minutes later. He waited off to the side, out of the way, as Sandi showed two ladies he recognized from the church how to operate the snow cone machine. Good. Her reinforcements had finally arrived.

Even under the harsh, bare-bulb light of the Warehouse’s porch, she sure looked sweet tonight, with shiny hair grazing her cheek and her bare arms toned. Pretty dress, too. Patterned with tiny blue-and-white checks and belted at a trim waist, it draped over her hips and flared into a full skirt that swayed with her every move. He took a deep breath and looked away. He shouldn’t be noticing that kind of stuff. Although when he had gotten together with Joe this week, he’d been assured God had designed him to notice, just not to dwell on it or take inappropriate action. He sure was glad Joe understood all this God stuff and was willing to share.

“Earl will be by at ten,” Sandi assured the two women. “He’ll pick up the money bag and secure everything to use again on Monday.”

Taking Gina’s hand, she said goodbye to Sharon and stepped off the porch. He pushed himself away from the stone wall as she approached.

“Oh.” She halted. “Bryce.”

Was she dismayed to see him? Pleased? He couldn’t tell.

“Finishing up for the night? Ready for something to eat?”

“Gina’s fading fast. I need to get her tucked in for the night. I’ll grab something to eat later.”

He glanced down at the sleepy-eyed girl who smiled up at him but without as much wattage as usual.

“I can walk you to your car.”

“Thanks, but we didn’t drive.”

He frowned. “You walked all the way from out on Timber Ridge Road?”

She laughed and his ears welcomed the sound.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time. Having second thoughts now that the sun’s set.”

“I can give you a ride.”

Anxious eyes met his. What was he, a big bad wolf? What kind of stories had Keith and her mother-in-law filled her head with?

She looked down at the weary Gina, then back at him—options considered, the decision made. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, we’d appreciate it.”

“No trouble at all.” He picked up the little girl, who weighed about as much as a snowflake. Curled right into his arms as if she belonged there. Poor thing, no way would she make it all the way out to the Bradshaw place on her own two legs, and she was getting too big for Sandi to carry that far. “My SUV’s at Grandma’s.”

Sandi nodded and they headed off along the busy street, skirting vendors and an increasingly boisterous crowd as square-dancing couples in their brightly colored regalia launched into another toe-tapping dance. Neon lights. Popcorn crunching underfoot. The tantalizing scent of pizza, hot dogs and cotton candy. He didn’t give much thought to his surroundings, though, being a little too conscious of Sandi at his side and thankful for the opportunity to come to her rescue when it was evident she wasn’t keen on walking home alone. For whatever reason, he liked the feeling of being her protector. Her guardian.

Just off Main Street, the short distance down the dimly lit route to Grandma’s was a much quieter one. But he hadn’t expected to find the side street lined on both sides with bumper-to-bumper cars—and one parked smack across the driveway of the fenced-in yard of the museum. Trapping his SUV.

He surveyed the situation with dismay. No telling when the vehicle’s owner would show up again. “Looks like we’ve
encountered one of the hazards of living so close to Main Street when there’s a special event.”

“I appreciate your offer anyway. I’ll call Meg or Sharon.”

He needed to tell her about his plans for the museum. Give her a heads-up. Get Grandma off his back. Get it out in the open and over with. No time like the present.

“You have anything against walking? Nice night.” He didn’t wait for Sandi’s response, but patted the leg of the child nestling in his arms. “You ready for a walk home, little gal?”

Gina nodded, settling more deeply into his arms, tucking her head under his neck. His heart reveling in her unhesitant trust made him all the more determined to see them safely to their destination.

“Then let’s do it.”

Not waiting for her mother’s approval, he turned back toward Main Street and started off. But a dozen steps along, not sensing Sandi at his side as she had been before, he halted. Looked back to where she still stood.

Even in the dim light, he could read her almost disoriented expression. Someone else calling the shots tonight left her flummoxed. But he knew better than to laugh.

“You comin’?”

It was warmer than usual this evening, so why was she trembling inside? Even had goose bumps on her arms as if she’d just consumed a gallon of ice cream.

She sensed Bryce looking down at her as they walked beside the starlit road, but she kept her eyes focused on the flashlight-illuminated dimness in front of her, trying to keep her footing on the rutted path. He’d laughed at the miniature, key chain-clipped device she’d pulled from her purse but, hey, it was doing the trick.

“I think Gina’s asleep already.” His words came softly. “She’s breathing pretty steady.”

He shifted her daughter in his arms, then let his free hand drop to his side. It brushed hers for a fleeting second, and her heart leaped to an accelerated tempo.

“I should have left her with a sitter, but she wanted to make snow cones. And we never have nearly enough time together to suit me.”

“Because of work? I imagine things have been tough financially since you lost Keith.”

“God’s been faithful. Our needs are more than met. But the part-time Warehouse job picks up some of the extras.”

Extras like display cases for the future veterans exhibit at the museum, complete with recessed lighting, adjustable glass shelves, commercial safety glass and keyed security locks. She had them all picked out.

Dare she tell him?

Or would he think her foolish for wanting a memorial to her husband? He didn’t seem to think much of what he called “digging through musty old stuff that belonged to dead people.” Already told her she needed to get a life.

His hand brushed hers again, all but setting her fingertips on fire, and she eased a bit farther from him. Like a gentleman, he’d taken the traffic side of the road as they’d set off on the uneven shoulder surface. But she’d no more than put some distance between them when she stumbled. His hand shot out, found hers. And without thinking, she grasped it, allowing him to steady her, prevent her from sliding down into the weed-and-rock-filled ditch next to them.

To her alarm, he didn’t turn her hand loose once she’d righted herself. She should pull free. Not let her fingers continue to meld into his. But it felt good. Secure and warm. Safe. As though someone cared.

She forced herself to take deep, slow breaths.

“Thanks for walking us home, Bryce.”

“Happy to do it.” She sensed the smile in his voice. “Need the exercise.”

As if he looked as though he needed any more of
that.

She drank in another lungful of the pine-scented air. “When I first came to Canyon Springs, I couldn’t get used to how dark nights get around here.”

“That’s right. You’re a city girl.” He jiggled her hand playfully.

The already irregular cadence of her breathing stalled. “Don’t laugh, but I’d lie awake at night in the trailer, listening to all the things that go bump in the night. Would convince myself the prisoner who’d escaped two hundred miles from here was standing outside my bedroom window. The stillness freaked me out. And the dark. I didn’t think I’d be able to stay here. Especially way out at the trailer.”

He didn’t respond, except to adjust his clasp on her hand. He probably thought she was a dork. Her confession probably confirmed in his mind that Keith had to put up with more than any man should ever have had to.

BOOK: At Home in His Heart
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