An Unexpected Joy Page 14
“Hey.” Her voice came out in an unfamiliar squeak that reminded her of the stray cat out by the shed when she fed him table scraps and accidentally stepped on his tail. A drop of sweat ran down her nose and dripped onto her upper lip. She fought the urge to scratch the spot. “Rocky.”
No one spoke for several long seconds. Rocky shifted his feet again. His dark brown almost black curls hung damp around his ears. His blue eyes, so like the color of Missouri sky in summer, implored her. She took another step forward.
“Introduce your guest, Frannie.” Onkel Mordecai’s disapproval had been displaced by the politeness they all were taught from childhood to show guests. “Invite him in.”
“This here’s Rocky Sanders from Jamesport. I . . . knew him up yonder.” Frannie couldn’t help herself. She glanced at Joseph. He studied his bowl as if gumbo were the most interesting food he’d ever tasted. “He used to come into the restaurant where I was a waitress.”
She kept to herself the longer version, how Rocky began to make an appearance at Callie’s Restaurant and Bakery two or three times a week. How he left big tips on small meals and complimented the food as if she’d cooked it herself. How he showed up at the school fund-raiser on July Fourth and spent too much on a treadle sewing machine he said his mother wanted to use as a “conversation piece” in their living room. Her throat tightened at the memories. Breathe.
Mordecai nodded. “We’re having gumbo if you want to pull up a seat.”
“No, no, I can see you’re having dinner. I don’t want to barge in on you.” Rocky edged toward the door, but his gaze remained on Frannie. “I’m sorry to drop in without letting you know I was coming. Being you don’t have a phone—not that there’s anything wrong with that. No calls from those pesky salespeople at dinnertime. I was . . . in the neighborhood.”
After that preposterous statement, he tugged a red bandanna from the back pocket of his faded blue jeans and swiped the sweat dampening his face. “Begging your pardon, but could I have a quick word with your niece . . . on the porch? I won’t keep her long.”
Frannie’s breathing did that same strange disappearing act it did when she jumped into the cold water at Choke Canyon Lake. She dared to hazard a glance at Aenti Abigail. Her lips were drawn down so far it was a wonder they didn’t fall from her face onto the planks of the wood floor. The blue-green of Onkel Mordecai’s eyes had turned frosty. “Go on, but make it quick. There’s dishes to wash and chores to do.”
Frannie whipped past Rocky, catching the familiar, inviting scent of his woodsy aftershave and Irish Spring soap—what she’d come to think of as Rocky smell—as she opened the screen door and led the way outside. To her relief he followed without another word. On the porch, she drank in the sight of him, now that they had no audience. Same tanned face, same little scar on his chin where he fell from a swing in the second grade, same little twist to his nose where he took a punch in a boxing match. “What are you doing here?”
The words sounded inhospitable. She wanted them back as soon as they fell on the early-evening air. Rocky’s smile faded. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He ducked his head and smoothed the cap in his hands. “Like I told you before, I have a bit of a wanderlust. You talked about this place so much, I figured I’d come see it for myself.”
A wisp of disappointment curled itself around the relief that rolled over her. He simply wanted to travel. He knew her so he stopped by. Like stopping by Bee County in the far reaches of south Texas was an easy feat. Most folks couldn’t find it with a map. “Are you staying long in the area—where are you staying?”
“I just got here.” An emotion Frannie recognized—disappointment—soaked the words. “You want me to leave?”
Nee. Not at all. Stay. Please stay. She swallowed the words before they could spring forward and betray her. “It’s just . . . surprising.”
“My Uncle Richard passed.”
“Oh, Rocky.” With no thought for appearances, Frannie touched his hand. Richard had been the only true father Rocky had ever known. His eyes blazed with sudden emotion as his long fingers turned and wrapped around hers. His strong grip seemed to embrace her. A slow heat warmed her from head to toe. “I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“Heart attack. Sudden. He left me a small nest egg.”
She itched to give this bear of a man the hug he deserved. That he needed. She kept her gaze on their entwined hands. “That was nice of him.”
“He was a nice man. He was a good man.” Rocky’s voice had a sandpaper roughness about it she’d never heard before. “Anyway, he gave me the chance to have a fresh start if I want.”
The last sentence seemed more of a question than a statement. A fresh start. Was Bee County his fresh start? Was Frannie his fresh start?
The screen door slammed. Frannie tugged her hand back, fingers burning worse than when she’d spilled the gumbo. Joseph clomped past them, a painful smile plastered across his face. “Mordecai said to tell you there’s plenty of leftovers if your friend has a hankering.” He tossed the words over his shoulder without looking back. “I’m headed home. Chores won’t wait. I imagine those dishes won’t either.”
“Be safe.” Now what a thing to say. Like Joseph couldn’t take care of himself. Like he hadn’t grown up with the javelinas, the bobcats, the rattlesnakes, and the occasional escapee from the prison outside Beeville. “Bye.”
“You too.” This time Joseph looked back. His gaze skittered from Frannie to Rocky. “You never know where danger lurks.”
The story continues in A Christmas Visitor by Kelly Irvin.
OTHER NOVELS BY RUTH REID
THE AMISH WONDERS SERIES
A Miracle of Hope
A Woodland Miracle
A Dream of Miracles (Available April 2016)
THE HEAVEN ON EARTH NOVELS
The Promise of an Angel
Brush of Angel’s Wings
An Angel by Her Side
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ruth Reid is a CBA and ECPA bestselling author of the Heaven on Earth series. She’s a full-time pharmacist who lives in Florida with her husband and three children. When attending Ferris State University School of Pharmacy in Big Rapids, Michigan, she lived on the outskirts of an Amish community and had several occasions to visit the Amish farms. Her interest grew into love as she saw the beauty in living a simple life.