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“I see you know my daughter.” Grudging respect laced her tone.
A tall man with a receding hairline and eyes lit with humor joined Tru, holding out a hand. “Rodney Marshall.”
Glad for the reprieve, Rory shook it firmly. “Rory Spence.”
Awkwardness ensued. Tru’s stiff posture relented a gnat’s whisker. “All right, Vi is down by the rose garden.” She waved toward a large picture window that looked out on the beautiful grounds. “She’s not eating. Probably not sleeping. She stares at the flowers and walks that dog.” Her lip curled with distaste. “I suppose you’re here to fix everything.” The accusatory tone had returned.
“Tru, I’m certain these young folks can work it out.” Rodney winked at Rory, much to his wife’s consternation.
Rory nodded, then looked back at Tru. “I love your daughter, Mrs. Marshall.”
For the briefest moment, joy crinkled her eyes before a pouty expression took over. “All in good time, young man. I have plans …”
Behind his wife, Rodney pointed to a side door.
Lips pressed in a line, Rory strode out the door. One problem at a time. Lord, you haven’t forsaken me either.
The sun warmed Vi’s back. Cyrus barked joyously, thrusting a proverbial stick into her gloom. Strange. The dog had not yet warmed to anyone in this household unless she counted Rodney, who fed him snacks on the sly. But Rodney wouldn’t seek Vi out. She swiveled on the bench, putting her hands over her brows to stave off the bright sun.
Rory.
Vi’s heart raced. She’d know his gait anywhere. Now with a slight twist to one side. She could fix it. As he grew closer, she recognized the raised chin, mouth hidden between the mustache and beard. His determined look burned into her soul.
Without a word, Rory eased himself onto the bench next to her, his hands buried in the wide front hoodie pocket. He’d worn it on Thanksgiving Day—when she ran from him and fell in a hole.
Moisture filmed her eyes. She’d run away again—and he’d come after her.
He pulled a tiny orange from his pocket and offered it to her. Slowly, she took it and peeled the tough outer layer. Cyrus chased a butterfly, his shiny black coat glistening in the sunlight. Birds rustled and flew from a mesquite tree on the lake’s edge. The dog chased after them. The pungent scent of citrus rubbed off on her hands.
She hesitated, then held up a quarter of the orange. Rory accepted it without a word. When she bit into her slice, the sweet juice woke her taste buds. Suddenly ravenous, she ate the remaining slices in quick succession.
“I brought more,” Rory said dryly. He pulled two more oranges out of his pocket and placed them on the bench between them.
A giggle escaped before Vi could rein it in.
“You’re as beautiful as ever, Vi.” Rory angled to face her. “Tell me what went wrong.”
Direct as ever. She slumped and held up a hand. “I don’t think talking about it will do any good.”
Rory gently clasped her raised hand with one of his, then caught a tendril of hair flying across her face with his other hand and tucked it behind her ear. “You need to set aside the knee-jerk reaction. The one where you shut me out. I love you, Vi. You don’t have anything to fear from me.” His calm, reasonable voice steadied her, though her mind insisted on reciting the reasons she left.
Tears filled her eyes, and her breaths were shallow. This Rory guided her through the house remodel. Caring. Tender.
“Is it Stella?” His eyes searched hers. “Because I’ve told you any relationship we had is completely in the past. Do you believe me?”
“Yes,” she said in a low voice. His reaction had made it clear enough, but the thought of him with another woman ate her insides out. The termite issue she’d paid big bucks to get rid of had nothing on her jangled emotions.
Rory continued as if not sure he believed her. “Stella and I should never have dated. I knew it, but I enjoyed the attention. It was wrong and short-sighted on my part, but I’ve repented. God’s forgiven me. Can you? I’m not excusing my behavior.” Pain lurked in the set of his jaw, his tight lips, and the crease in his forehead. “It messes with me that maybe I won’t get a chance with you because of past mistakes.”
Past mistakes. The words hit her with such blinding clarity she gasped. Rory reached for her hand. Weren’t past mistakes the reason she kept holding him at arm’s length? The reason she wouldn’t date him? Because of her past mistakes? His relationship with Stella made her jealous. She wanted Rory so badly it scared her. Fear had caused the conflict within her heart. She had rejected him before he rejected her. Fear had driven her ill-timed trip to Houston.
She met his eyes. Those gorgeous gray eyes. “Rory, I have to tell you something.” He released the light hold on her hand, and she crossed her arms. No matter what, he needed to know.
“You know I’m a safe place, Vi.” The steady, encouraging words made her want to fall into his arms. If only.
Vi gulped a breath of air, then hurried to say it before she lost her nerve. “I had a baby when I was sixteen.” She flushed, struggling to maintain focus.
Rory’s eyes rounded with a flash of surprise, then quickly evened out again. He pried Vi’s hand from her arm and held it again. “Tell me about it. I’m not going anywhere.” No outrage. No accusation. Only concern and his calm presence.
