Reclaimed (10 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Paul hooked an arm out to give Kiera a leg up. Bronco stood still, as he always did. Few things were as dependable in Paul’s life as his equine friend.

Equine. He chuckled under his breath. Suzanna had done changed his vocabulary.

“Set?”

Kiera nodded, straightening the reins. Paul mounted Buck, the more flighty of the two horses. Taking a firm hold of the reins, he spurred the gelding forward, and he and Kiera set off westward.

Kiera loved to ride and asked to go more often than the other children. Paul rarely denied her requests, even after a hefty Sunday dinner. They’d cleared their dishes and hopped in his pickup while Dre and Suzanna cleaned up the kitchen.

What a difference a week made. Paul had enjoyed his family gathering again, and Suzanna relaxed. Somehow he needed to draw out her sense of humor. It was too endearing for her to hide it away. Why did she feel like she needed to?

Mike had been a friendly man. He’d been the one to initiate an introduction, stopping by Paul’s house the very week he’d moved in. He could chat with the best of them and never seemed to feel awkward in a gathering.

Why was getting to know Suzanna more like playing a game of hide-and-seek?

“Miss Wilton’s nice, isn’t she?” Kiera looked up at Paul as the horses plodded toward his alfalfa field.

Paul nodded, forcing his questions back for another time. “She is.”

Kiera’s little forehead wrinkled. “She didn’t seem quite so nice last week.”

Perceptive. Paul didn’t always take into consideration how much the kids could read into an adult situation. If he’d heeded the Word of God last week, he would have avoided the whole uncomfortable scene and spared Kiera some confusion.

“I had done some things to make her upset, Keys. It was my fault she was withdrawn last week.”

Kiera bobbed a slow nod. Sandhill cranes called overhead, and she tugged on the reins. Bronco stopped, and Paul pulled his mount back as well. Buck danced sideways and then spun around before his hooves stilled.

“How do they know where to go every year?”

Cranes and snow geese cut a path above them twice every year. Seasons were marked by their migration. And every year Paul was fascinated with the birds’ incredible journey.

“Instinct.” He spoke to the sky and then glanced to Kiera. “God programmed them to know. Pretty amazing, huh?”

Kiera nodded, her eyes riveted on the flock above. In the air, the cranes weren’t majestic birds—they didn’t soar like an eagle—their bodies looked awkward in flight. But on the ground, their long necks bestowed a unique dignity, and their journey was indeed a marvel.

“When will you get married, Uncle Paul?”

From instinct to marriage. How was that for linear thinking? Paul cleared his throat and slowly brought his gaze to Kiera. She studied him with the kind of open curiosity most adults have been forced to tame. Her innocent intrigue made him grin.

“I don’t know that God has marriage planned for me, kiddo.”

She concentrated on that statement, her face betraying her focus. “Don’t you want to get married?”

Ah. There’s a tough one.
Not his answer—yes, he’d wanted to get married. Kiera wouldn’t remember that though. She’d been a baby when he’d been engaged. Explaining why he didn’t have a wife—that would be the hard part.

It had taken years of wrestling to lay that one down. It was done, and he had real peace about it now, but letting go of it all—the desire for a wife, the hurt and anger when it didn’t happen—had been far from easy.

“I thought at one time I’d be married, Keys.” Paul pulled his hat off and rubbed his short hair. “Probably because that’s what usually happens. Most people get married. I’ve learned God has something unique for all of us, though, and for me, it’s to be single. I want to live the life God wants for me, so not having a wife is okay.”

That should clear it up. Her sweet face pinched even more. Apparently he’d missed the mark.

“So, you don’t ever want to get married?”

A grin slipped into a laugh as he wondered why Kiera was so intent on this. “Like I said, I want what God wants. He’s always full of surprises, so I’ll just live like I’m living until He shows me something else.”

Kiera cast her eyes westward.

“Hey, Keys?” A sudden inspiration hit Paul. A teachable moment shouldn’t be missed. “I’m not sure why you were thinking about that, but I want you to know something. Only God can complete a person. There isn’t another human being on this planet who can make me whole, or you whole, whether we ever get married or not. I am complete in Jesus. He will make you whole too, if you let Him. Will you remember that?”

She looked at him with serious eyes. Approval filled her expression, and a small smile lifted her mouth. Kiera nodded, looking much older than ten.

She’d been worried about him—concerned that her old uncle wasn’t happy. Warmth washed over Paul’s heart, and he cherished the evidence of her kind spirit. So much like her Mama.

“Can I say something, Uncle Paul?”

“Always, kid. Hit me.”

“I think Miss Wilton is special.” Her face colored pink. “I’m not saying you should marry her, but I keep wondering why God would send a pretty lady from the city to be your neighbor. Seems kind of not normal, right?”

Did she think this up all on her own? Heat spread through his cheeks. “Maybe so. She is a bit of a puzzle.”

“You mean a pickle.”

He chuckled. “You pay way too much attention.”

She shrugged, giggling. Paul nudged Bronco forward, they continued their ride. “Still, she
is
special. That’s why Mama likes her. She says that God draws us to people for a reason. Mama says Miss Wilton is here by God’s design.”

This wasn’t going away. He might as well ask. “Why do you think she’s special?”

“I don’t know.” Kiera shrugged again. “She’s not special in the wow-she’s-super-fun kind of way. More like she’s … she’s hurt. Like a puppy who’s been tossed into a ditch. Special because she seems sad, but she is the kind of person you want to be around anyway.”

When did Keys grow up? Last he’d checked, her eleventh birthday was still a month away. A puppy tossed into a ditch? Yeah, she was onto something there.

“You’re quite the observant girl, Keys.” Paul glanced at her with affection. “I think maybe you’re right. There’s something sad in Suzanna’s life. What do you think we should do about that?”

Kiera looked to him earnestly. “Mama says we’re supposed to love on the widows and orphans. The people who don’t have anyone else—because Jesus would.”

Widows and orphans. Suzanna would fit one of those categories, sort of. Losing her dad left her alone, especially since her mom seemed to be out of the picture. Why exactly was that?

Orphaned. Maybe death wasn’t the only way one qualified under that title.

“Do you miss Colorado?” Andrea wiped the long farm table while Suzanna covered the left-overs they’d divvied into Glad containers.

“Not overly. I miss the Aspens. They’re really beautiful in the fall. And the coffee shop down the street from my apartment.”

“How about friends? Have you been able to keep in touch with them?”

Suzanna’s throat suddenly felt swollen. “I didn’t have many close friends.” How pathetic. Her skin warmed, and she scanned her brain recklessly for a recovery. “I talked to my sister last week.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. She’d called her sister all right, for the obligatory “happy birthday, how’s whoever it is you’re with these days” conversation. Was a false impression the same thing as a lie?

Having moved to the sink, Andrea ran steamy water over her dishrag. “I know city life is so different. Down in Waco, things moved faster, and people came and went as if we were never intended to have an impact on another human being. But here, I still see over half of my high school classmates running around town. Honestly, though, I don’t keep up with them well either.”

Suzanna’s tongue felt too thick for use. She nodded, wishing she could bury the resentment from the past. What if she’d had a friend? What if someone knew all of the wounds in her heart, all of the bitterness stored up there and loved her anyway?

Jason had. For a while, he’d been enough, but he’d left her. No, God took him. That wasn’t the same thing.

“I’ve upset you.”

Glancing up, Suzanna found Andrea leaning against the counter. Compassion mingled with invitation on Andrea’s face. Suzanna bit her lip, deliberating.

“My dad was a pastor. Did you know that?”

Andrea’s eyes widened, and she shook her head.

“I thought maybe not. He quit preaching about a year before he moved.” Suzanna swallowed and handed a short stack of containers with leftovers to Andrea. “Anyway, growing up in that kind of setting, as a preacher’s kid, is different. There are expectations and assumptions. It makes it hard to bond.”

Andrea shuffled things in her refrigerator, finding room for the loot. “What about school?”

“I went to private school. It was associated with the church.”

Shutting the door, Andrea turned, empathy in her eyes. “Oh dear. I can see how that would make things difficult.”

Suzanna braced herself for more questions. Why had her dad left the pulpit? What happened to her mother? Inquiries she wasn’t ready to deal with.

“Well, Suz,” Andrea said, “perhaps that will make it easier to make this home. Because you are staying—I’m going to have to insist on it.”

Andrea moved to hug her, and Suzanna wondered how the woman knew exactly how far to prod and when to leave it alone.

“It’s time for coffee, I think.” Andrea pulled away and moved to the pot. “I have to warn you though, mine’s not near as good as yours.” She laughed while the water filled the carafe. “Whenever I drive by your house in the morning, I have to tell myself to just a keep on a goin’. You make some kind of magical brew, girl.”

A grin eased the tension in Suzanna’s face. “It’s not me; it’s all in the beans. My one indulgence. There’s a little shop down the street from where I lived. I begged to buy their coffee in bulk when I was getting ready to leave. They ordered wholesale quantities for me. I’m not sure they’re supposed to, but I told them I’d be living in the middle of a pasture away from everything. Maybe they felt sorry for me.”

“So I guess that means you won’t be opening your own coffee shop anytime soon?”

“No. That would definitely not be my thing.” Suzanna smiled. “But you stop over anytime.”

The coffee maker gurgled and steamed, scenting the kitchen with the rich aroma of a fresh brew. Andrea slid onto a bar stool at the kitchen island, and Suzanna dropped onto one across from her.

“You and Paul seemed to be on better terms today.”

Sheesh. Was there anything the woman missed?

“I’m sorry.” Suzanna hung her head. “I must have ruined your family dinner last week.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.
You
didn’t do anything.”

Oh, if Andrea only knew. Suzanna fidgeted with her fingers. “We had a bad start, but it wasn’t his fault. I can be… prickly. I wasn’t very nice to him.”

“I know you weren’t made to feel welcome in Rock Creek. I’m sorry for that, especially since it took me a month to stop and say hi. Paul didn’t know; he was working the river property when you moved, but it didn’t excuse him for being cold.”