day.
She carried her tea outside and stood on the porch. The crisp scent of rain made her heart ache with dreary acceptance, because the steady downfall that now pounded the hard-packed earth had come weeks too late to save this year’s crops.
Lamont’s spread, by contrast, seemed untouched by nature’s cruel hand. But then, he’d had the financial resources to dig deep wells that helped irrigate his fields. If one of his bulls died? Well, he had dozens of others grazing in white-fenced green pastures. Neighbors envied Lamont’s knack for turning profits into wise investments. Some went as far as to ask his advice about where to put their money, when there was money left after filling their creditors’ pockets. Nadine respected and admired Lamont’s talents but, God help her, she envied them, too.
And envy was wrong. Spiteful and sinful. “A sound heart is the life of the flesh,” she quoted Proverbs, “but envy the rottenness of the bones.”
Shivering, she tilted her face toward the Heavens. “Lord, a little more backbone might be useful right about now.”
Backbone. Lamont had it in abundance. Truth be told, it was his grit and his guts that she envied more than anything else.
Bowing her head, she hugged the thick ceramic mug to her chest. As the steaming brew warmed her face, she took a deep breath, pictured him sitting at her kitchen table, looking as though he belonged, stirring sugar into his cup with a spoon that, in his powerful, callused hand, looked like one from Amy’s tea set.
Just thinking about him made her pulse race.
And she didn’t welcome the reaction, either. Several times tonight, she would have sworn he aimed to kiss her, and the thought made her scramble for legitimate excuses to keep plenty of space between them, physically and emotionally.
She’d seen Lamont lose his temper—during cattle auctions, in the feed and grain, at the hardware store. Ernest personified the “street angel, house devil” rule; if Lamont behaved that way when people were around, how much more aggressive might he be one-on-one?
She couldn’t afford to find out.
Nadine leaned against a porch support post as a mist of rain bounced up from the flagstone steps and onto her slippered feet. She barely felt it, though, as she thought of Rose. In all the years Nadine had known her, Lamont’s wife hadn’t given so much as a hint of being abused. But then, it wasn’t likely Rose would have guessed what often went on inside Nadine’s house, either.
Could she be wrong about Lamont? Did he fit the “His bark is worse than his bite” adage?
Not that it made a bit of difference. Nadine didn’t trust herself to make smart decisions where men were concerned, so except for the few who worked for her at Greeneland Ranch, she’d avoided them altogether. And despite hard times, she’d held on as well as any male rancher she could name.
Shoulders sagging, she went back inside, bolted the door behind her and resigned herself to spending a few hours with the Good Book. God’s word had helped her keep “white knight” dreams at bay in the past. By morning, any romantic notions about Lamont would be a distant memory, and she’d go back to accepting her lot in life.
But she didn’t have to like it.
Bright and early the next morning, it was still raining when Adam padded into the kitchen, looking rumpled and frazzled as the weather outside. “Look at this mess,” he said, stacking coloring books and construction paper on the table. He flopped onto a straight-backed chair as she closed her crossword puzzle book. “You can’t even get a minute’s peace and privacy since we invaded your house.”
“You know I love having you…”
“It’s only temporary,” Adam said, “until Julie and I get this mess straightened out.”
How many times had he said that since they’d moved in, weeks ago? Lord, she prayed, help me find words to comfort him. “I feel terrible admitting it,” she said, sitting beside him. “But your cloud has been my silver lining. I haven’t been this contented since before you and Julie got married and you left me all alone.”
Adam chuckled at her deliberately exaggerated misery. “You’re the best, Mom.”
She’d been listening to her boy’s laughter all his twenty-six years and knew when it was sincere and when it wasn’t. Her heart ached for her only child. Maternal love hadn’t protected him from measles or chicken pox; hadn’t saved him from skinned knees, sprains and fractures; hadn’t spared him the anguish of a breakup once he reached dating age. She couldn’t protect him from this, either, but she aimed to try.
“Maybe while we’re here,” he said, “Julie will learn a thing or two from you about how to be a good wife and mother.”
“Thank goodness I sent her to the cellar to sort laundry, because if she heard a thing like that, she’d be crushed. I’ll admit she did some pretty ridiculous things, but you know in your heart she didn’t do them on purpose. Why, the way that poor girl was raised, it’s a wonder—”
“I’m tired of letting her off the hook because of her background.”
She pressed a palm to each of his cheeks. “Julie is your wife, Adam, and the mother of your child. That money she lost is gone, but you can earn more. If you drive her away, well, you can’t be sure you’ll get her back. It’s as plain as the nose on your face that she’s trying. Give her credit for that, at least.”
His expression reminded her of days long gone, when a shrug and a half smile were precursors to a bored “I guess you’re right.” This time, he got up and grabbed the lunch bucket he’d been carrying since he started that stock-boy job at Lotsmart.
He was halfway out the door when she said, “Will you do me a favor today?”
“Sure.”
“Pray about what I said?”
“Guess it can’t hurt,” he said, his voice glum. “At least that won’t cost me anything.”
Every chance she got that day, she prayed, too. Nadine thanked God that neither the landlord nor the manager of the car dealership had decided to press charges against Julie, and for providing Adam with a job that helped put food on the table and keep the lights turned on. She asked Him to soften her son’s heart toward his young, confused wife, and begged him to supply every dime required to keep the bank from foreclosing on her ranch. He’d seen her through bad times before, and He’d see her through this one, too. Nadine believed that. She had to believe it!
The jangling phone startled her, and she silenced it with a surly, “Hello…”
“Ah, a voice for sore ears…”
Was Lamont’s voice really all it took to sweeten her sour mood?
“What time should I put the steaks on?”
Nadine had tossed and turned for hours, and by morning, convinced herself that she’d misread his signals. Why would a handsome, powerful widower be interested in a nearly broke grandmother whose kids had come home, adding to her wagonload of emotional and financial baggage? She came up with just one reason: He was the hero-to-the-rescue type and saw her as someone in need of rescuing. And when he tired of trying to fix what was wrong with her life, he’d
