Heart of Texas Vol. 3 (24 page)

Dovie patted her elbow, pleased Amy had agreed to at least consider it. “Good girl.”

Amy flushed and looked slightly embarrassed. “I wanted you to know that the birthing class starts a week from Monday. We're meeting at the health clinic between seven and eight-thirty.”

“I'll be there with bells on,” Dovie promised. Excitement bubbled inside her at the prospect of sharing the moment Amy gave birth to her baby.

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, then Amy continued down the street. Feeling motherly, Dovie wandered back into her shop. She'd bonded with Amy Thornton, she thought, nodding in satisfaction. The girl was like a lost waif, in need of love and nourishment. Not physical nourishment, but emotional. Even as little as a week had shown a vast improvement in her appearance. She wasn't nearly as pale, and the dark shadows under her eyes had all but disappeared.

Dovie strongly suspected this was the first time since she'd learned she was pregnant that she was getting proper rest. In thinking over Amy's story, Dovie was appalled. The young woman had hastily gotten off the bus without knowing a soul in Promise. When questioned, all she'd say was that she'd looked down Main Street and thought it might be a friendly town.

While Promise was indeed friendly, it wasn't unlike a dozen other communities Amy had traveled through on her way to Austin.

Dovie wouldn't say anything to Frank, and possibly not even to Wade, but she had the distinct impression that Amy was
supposed
to get off that bus when she did. There was a reason she was in Promise. Dovie wasn't sure what it was just yet, but time would eventually reveal it.

“I can't believe the dance is almost here.”

The deep male voice behind her took Dovie by surprise. She gasped and placed her hand over her heart. “Reverend McMillen!”

“Sorry, Dovie, I didn't mean to frighten you.”

“I was lost in thought and I didn't hear you sneaking up behind me. Didn't even hear the bell!”

He laughed and handed her the Sunday-school material he'd promised to deliver at the beginning of the week.

“The big dance is scheduled for the twenty-seventh this year,” Dovie said. “You're going, aren't you?”

“Of course.”

Not that Dovie remembered him doing a lot of dancing in years past. Mostly Wade hung around with the ranchers. The thing was, he fit right in. Tall and broad-shouldered, the preacher looked and acted as though he'd be at home on a horse or roping a calf. It often took people aback when they learned the only herd Wade managed was a church full of stubborn humans.

“Remember last year?” Wade asked.

“I'm not likely to forget,” Dovie told him.

“Glen was fit to be tied when he found Ellie dancing with Richard.”

Dovie had been thinking the same thing herself only a few minutes earlier. “It was a turning point in their relationship.”

“Not that the road to romance was smooth for either of them,” Wade reminded her.

“The dance was a turning point for Caroline and Grady, too.”

This small bit of information appeared to surprise the reverend. “What do you mean?”

“Savannah and I were the ones who encouraged Caroline to ask Grady when Pete Hadley announced a ladies' choice.”

“She did, too, didn't she?”

“Yup, and I think that was what woke Grady up to the fact that she's a woman.”

Wade rubbed the side of his face. “Seems the dance is responsible for a lot more romances around here than I realized.”

That was when the idea hit Dovie—and hit her hard. Actually it was the perfect solution and she wondered why she hadn't come up with it sooner. My, oh my, it
was
just perfect.

“You've got that look in your eye, Dovie,” Wade said, and he stepped back warily.

“I do?” she asked, feigning surprise. She'd already concluded that it was no fluke Amy had chosen to settle in Promise, and now she thought she knew why. She blurted out her idea. “I think you should take Amy to the dance.”

“Me?” he cried. “Oh, no, you don't! My job description
doesn't
include escorting lonely hearts to dances!”

A
MY STOPPED AT
D
OVIE'S HOUSE
to pick her up for the birthing class far earlier than necessary. She'd been looking forward to this ever since Dr. Jane had first mentioned it. Waiting another fifteen minutes seemed more than she could stand.

Dovie was in her garden when Amy approached.

“Oh, my, is it that time already?” Dovie asked the instant she saw her. Flustered, she glanced at her wrist.

“I'm early,” Amy apologized.

“Don't let her kid you,” Frank said, joining his wife. “Dovie's been on tenterhooks all evening. I don't think I've ever seen her more excited about anything.”

It warmed Amy's heart that her friend was looking forward to coaching her through labor and birth. The thought of having to go through the birth alone had weighed on her mind for months. The wrenching sense of loneliness had virtually disappeared since her arrival in Promise. She marveled anew at these wonderful people.

“I'll just be a moment,” Dovie promised and rushed toward the house.

“There's no hurry,” Amy called after her.

Frank sauntered over to the gate and opened it for Amy. “You might as well sit a spell.” He led her past the large well-groomed garden toward the wrought-iron table and chairs on the brick patio.

“Dovie's got quite a garden, doesn't she?”

“It's like this every year,” the sheriff said. “Heaven only knows what she's going to do with twenty-five tomato plants, but she always seems to know someone who could use them.”

Fresh tomatoes were a particular favorite of Amy's. One day she'd like to plant her own garden…. Perhaps next year.

“Do you think Dovie would mind if I looked at her plants?” Amy asked, noticing the small herb garden next to the tomatoes.

“Go right ahead. Dovie's garden is her pride and joy. If you want to wait a few minutes, she'll give you the grand tour herself.” It seemed to Amy that Frank was just as proud of her accomplishment.

Dovie appeared almost immediately afterward, wearing pressed navy-blue trousers and an attractive cotton knit sweater in a lovely rose. Just as Frank had predicted, she was more than willing to walk Amy through her garden. “I seem to have a green thumb,” she remarked, shrugging in an offhand way.

“She could coax orchids into blooming in the Arctic,” Frank murmured.

“Now, Frank, that's not entirely true,” Dovie said, as she slid her arm through Amy's. They strolled down the narrow garden rows, commenting on this plant and that one. The corn was almost knee-high, and the pole beans and other vegetables were well under way.

“I've always wanted a garden,” Amy said and realized how wistful that must have sounded.

“Well, I could certainly use help in mine.” Dovie smiled. “Of course it'd be a little awkward for you this year, but perhaps next.”

“I'd like that,” Amy said. She'd never known people could be this open and generous.

“Shall we head on over to the health clinic?” Dovie asked.

The walk didn't take more than a few minutes. Amy's hands had grown damp with nerves by the time they arrived. She suspected she'd be the only pregnant woman attending without a husband, and she was right. Three other couples were already inside the clinic waiting. Dovie played hostess, greeting each one and then introducing Amy. Caroline Weston looked to be about six months pregnant, as well, and she and Amy were soon talking comfortably. She was pretty, Amy thought, with her dark brown eyes and soft brown hair. Until now they hadn't been formally introduced, but Amy had chatted with her at the post office when she'd gone to apply for a post-office box.

“Dovie was thrilled you asked her to be your birthing partner,” Caroline told her. She sat next to her broad-shouldered rancher husband, Grady Weston.

“I'm the one who's grateful.” Amy didn't mind saying so, either. “Being new in town, I was afraid I'd be going through labor alone.”

“That would never have happened,” Caroline said with confidence. Their eyes met and briefly held. “I wasn't married when I had Maggie,” she said softly. “My mother was my labor coach. Jane would have made sure someone supportive was with you.”

Caroline was telling Amy far more than the words themselves conveyed. She was saying that at one time she'd walked in the same shoes as Amy. She understood what it meant to stand alone and was offering her encouragement and support. Caroline was married now, and from the tender looks she shared with her husband, it was obvious they were deeply in love.

The class lasted ninety minutes, and the time flew. During the first half hour, everyone spoke for a few moments; Amy, feeling shy, said very little. Then Dr. Jane showed a thirty-minute video of a birth and answered questions. The film had been an eye-opener for Amy. Unlike the others, she hadn't been raised in a ranching community and had never been around farm animals. The baby stirred and kicked as she watched; and Amy felt a surge of pure excitement. The final thirty minutes were spent explaining the breathing techniques used during the early stages of labor.

The key, Amy discovered, was finding a comfortable position. Caroline sat on the carpeted floor and leaned her back against Grady's bent knees and pressed her hands against her stomach. The most comfortable position Amy found was lying flat on her back, knees drawn up. She stared at the ceiling and concentrated on practicing her deep breathing.

Dovie sat by her head and brushed the hair from Amy's brow. Surprisingly Amy discovered that she'd relaxed to the point of nearly drifting off to sleep.

Grady and Caroline offered Dovie and Amy a ride home, but Amy preferred to walk. Dovie did, too.

“Thanks for the offer,” Amy said. She was looking forward to the next class—in part because she felt that she and Caroline could easily become friends.

“If I don't see you before, I will at the dance Saturday night,” Caroline told Dovie as she climbed inside the car. As if she'd forgotten something important, she poked her head out the open window and gestured to Amy. “You're coming to the big dance, aren't you?”

Amy froze. Dovie had mentioned it earlier, and she'd hoped to avoid the subject altogether. Perhaps—like planting a garden—next year would be better timing.

“Amy?” Dovie urged, apparently waiting for her to respond to Caroline's question.

“I…don't think so,” she mumbled, flustered and unsure. She longed to go, but it was impossible. Next year, she thought, when she felt confident again. When she felt like a contributing member of the community. When she was slim again. No man would find her attractive now with her rounding stomach and her ankles swollen by the end of the day. When the time was right—well, she had a man in mind…. It was, admittedly, much too soon to be thinking along those lines, but Wade McMillen was by far the kindest man she'd ever met. Not to mention one of the most attractive!

Caroline waved when Grady pulled the car away from the curb, and Amy waved back.

“So you've decided not to attend the dance,” Dovie said and did nothing to disguise her disappointment.

“I can't,” Amy insisted.

“And why's that?”

“A number of reasons.”

“The decision is yours, of course,” Dovie said, but it was plain the older woman wanted her to reconsider. “However, I think it would do you a world of good to get out and mingle with people your own age. The dance would be the perfect opportunity to do that.”

“Next year,” she said, but if she'd hoped to appease Dovie, she failed.

“I want you to give me one good reason you feel you should wait.”

Obviously Dovie wasn't about to drop the subject with her usual grace. If anything, she sounded more adamant than she had earlier.

“Oh, Dovie, I wish I could go, but—”

“That does it,” Dovie interrupted, cutting her off even before she could complete the thought.

“Does what?”

“You're attending the dance, and I refuse to take no for an answer.”

Amy laughed at her friend's stubbornness. “You seem mighty sure of yourself.”

“I am.” Dovie flashed her a smile that could only be described as smug. “Since I've taken on the role of your fairy godmother, all I need to do now is find the dress and the prince. The dress is simple, and as for the prince—” she giggled with sheer delight “—I know just where to look.”

W
ADE DIDN'T GENERALLY AVOID
people, especially members of his own congregation, but Dovie Boyd Hennessey had been after him all week to take Amy Thornton to the big dance. He'd given Dovie a flippant response when she first proposed the idea, but the truth of the matter was he
did
like Amy. He admired her courage and determination, her grit. And it didn't hurt any that she was easy on the eyes. When he was with her, Wade forgot he was a pastor and remembered he was a man. He wasn't sure he liked that feeling. He happened to enjoy his life exactly the way it was. Besides, if he was going to ask Amy out, then it would be when he felt ready and not because Dovie Hennessey thought he should. He didn't appreciate being pressured; no one did. So he avoided her.

“I'm not asking you to take Amy as her pastor,” she muttered the one time she did manage to catch him—outside the post office. “For the love of heaven, open your eyes, Wade McMillen! Amy's a beautiful young woman.”

“My eyes
are
open,” Wade said. Far wider than he cared to admit.

Dovie's face relaxed into a knowing grin. “Then the matter's settled.”

“Dovie, it isn't a good idea.” Wade wasn't about to let her maneuver him into this craziness. At least not without putting up a struggle. “I'm sure once people meet Amy there'll be plenty of men wanting to date her. It wouldn't be fair to saddle her with me so soon after she's arrived.”

“That's just an excuse and you know it!”

“I'll tell you what,” he said, willing to bend, but only a little. “If no one else has asked her by Friday, then I'll take her myself.”

“And insult her like she's some…some castoff. I think not.”

There was no satisfying the woman. “Someone else will ask her,” he muttered and left it at that.

Dovie's eyes grew hot enough to cause a nuclear meltdown, but she said nothing more.

Wednesday morning Wade had just ordered the breakfast special at the café in the bowling alley when Sheriff Hennessey slipped into the booth across from him. He righted a coffee mug and motioned to Denise.

“I take it you're avoiding my wife,” Frank Hennessey said.

“Can you blame me?” Wade asked.

Frank's tanned face broke into a grin. “I tell you, when Dovie's got a bee in her bonnet, nothing distracts her from getting what she wants.” He paused. “I actually feel sorry for you.”

Wade had gone over the last conversation with Dovie a dozen times and didn't see how he could do more than he already had. He'd given her his best offer and the woman had insisted he was insulting Amy. This was what made dating hazardous. He saw offering to escort Amy to the dance if no one else invited her as a gesture of kindness. According to Dovie, that wasn't the case. Well, as far as he was concerned, the best thing to do was avoid the dance issue entirely, avoid Dovie, avoid the attraction he felt for Amy—avoid it all.

Denise brought over his breakfast and filled Frank's mug with fresh hot coffee.

“Dovie's talked Amy into attending that dance without a date, so you don't need to worry about her chasing you down any longer.”

Wade was relieved and he suspected he had Frank to thank for this unexpected reprieve. “Amy isn't going to have a problem attracting men,” Wade said. She was attractive and sweet, and he had no doubt others would soon notice that, too.

A part of Wade, one he didn't want to face, was pleased no one had asked her. He wasn't sure how he'd feel about Amy dating one of the local ranchers, and yet…that was exactly what he wanted, wasn't it?

“Amy's
real
pretty,” Frank agreed with him.

Wade didn't appreciate the reminder. “It's just that…”

“Yes?” Frank urged.

Wade longed to explain himself, but he couldn't seem to do it. He didn't understand his own reluctance to invite Amy to the dance, so he said the first logical thing that popped into his head. “I just don't think it's a good idea for a pastor to be romantically linked with an unwed mother. People might get the wrong idea.”

Frank held the mug with both hands. He nodded slowly. “I suspect you're right. People are funny about that kind of thing.”

Perhaps there was more truth to his words than he realized; Wade no longer knew. Rarely had he felt so confused. It made sense not to complicate his relationship with Amy. For one thing, some folks were sure to make more of a simple date than was warranted. Louise Powell, for instance.