“Oh my gosh, you’re a dangerous man.” On impulse, she rose on tiptoe and pecked a kiss to his cheek. “Good night, Lyle.”
“Don’t forget about our date.”
As if she could. She was finding herself hanging on every word this man uttered, searching for every excuse just to be in his presence, yearning for the smallest touch. She ought to pull back, guard her heart a little better.
But she’d offered to be his moral support at church, and she wouldn’t go back on that promise.
“Sunday, nine o’clock. I’ll be here.
8
The sun filtered through the thick trees lining the road leading to Bear Valley, casting dappled patterns across the pavement as Lyle drove toward the church for the first time since his parents' funerals. Heather was in the front seat beside him, Charlotte in the back, chatting excitedly about seeing Emma and Ruby. He wondered if she’d be triggered by the sadness and loss of her parents as he and his brothers likely would be over theirs.
He glanced in the rear-view mirror, saw that Joe, Mike and Kenny were pulling in behind him in one of the ranch vehicles.
He parked in the gravel lot, took his time getting Charlotte out of the back, clasping her small hand tightly in his.
“Ready?” he asked quietly. They'd talked about how church might feel a little different, and Charlotte, her countenance stoic, had agreed she was ready to go back. She missed her friends.
"I'm okay, Uncle Lyle. Are you?"
This little girl just about broke his heart. "As long as I've got you, I'm okay."
She nodded and started forward. Lyle glanced at Heather, saw her discreetly wiping her eyes. Joe, Mike and Kenny piled out of their truck, looking like they were going to an execution rather than a church service.
Lyle didn't blame them. He felt pretty much the same himself.
As a group, they entered the church, pushing open the heavy wooden door. The familiar scent of polished wood, flowers, and old paper invaded his senses. It all flooded back—the comforting chaos of Sunday mornings, the sermons, and the community that had once felt so alive.
At the front of the sanctuary, he saw Jeremy, his cousin. He was tall and thin like the rest of the Watkins siblings, but he wore a suit rather than jeans and boots, ready to lead the small congregation through the service. He caught sight of Lyle first and gave him a warm smile. Then his gaze shifted to Heather, Charlotte and the other Watkins brothers as he swiftly came down the aisle toward them.
Jeremy greeted each of them by name, embracing and shaking hands, offering comfort and understanding without a single word. "I'm glad you're all here."
"That makes one of you," Lyle said with a wry smile.
"I get it." And Jeremy did. Bill Watkins had been his uncle and his mentor.
"How’s everything been?” Joe asked, stepping up beside Jeremy.
“Managing. It’s definitely a challenge stepping into your father’s shoes.” He paused, searching their expressions. “But I’m happy to see you all back in the fold, even if it took this long.”
“Figured it was time to get Charlotte back in familiar surroundings."
Jeremy nodded. "It’s good to see her little light among us again. All of you.”
As they made their way up the aisle to choose a seat, Lyle hesitated. Heather glanced at him, and at the other three Watkins men. "You know," she said. "We could shake things up and sit in the back row."
Lyle missed a step and Mike chuckled. Their father would have had a fit if they sat in the back row. That was one of the problems of being the pastor’s kids. They were always front and center, on display and charged with being on their best behavior. That hadn’t always been an easy feat.
“Maybe we’ll compromise and sit in the middle,” Lyle said, making the decision for all of them. “That way we’ll only have half the town gawking at us.”
“Lyle, you know they all mean well,” Heather said. “Everyone loves your family.”
“I know.” He guided them to a row mid-way up the aisle rather than continuing on to the front two pews the family normally occupied.
Despite their deviation in seating, their presence caused a stir. It seemed everyone wanted to offer a hug or condolence. Heather noticed that Kenny, Joe and Lyle’s jaws were frozen and rigid, looking about ready to break. Mike was the only brother who appeared calm and open—and Heather suspected that was a hard-fought act.
She also noted that the first two rows, previously reserved and occupied by the Watkins family, were empty. The stark reminder of their loss made her throat ache.
