Page 68 of A Twist of Faith
It’d take a whole lot more than trying to impress a woman for him to remove a nearly permanent fixture like his beard. How would he keep his face warm in winter?
Brandon sat on the sink cabinet, chewing on his toothbrush and trying to reach for Reese’s deodorant bottle. In one quick move, Reese swung the boy up in his arms, popping the toothbrush from his mouth and attacking the boys’ face with a washcloth. Brandon’s giggle warmed him all over. Oh, he loved that boy.
Lou appeared in the doorway and posed, pink from chin to shoelaces.
“Do I look ready for our date, Daddy?”
Reese about dropped Brandon. A sudden vision of Lou ten years in the future branded terror in his mind. Good heavens, he needed to get his guns prepared for perspective suitors as soon as possible.
“You look beautiful, Lou.”
She crossed her arms and stared at him like he was ridiculous. Great. How did she get from seven to seventeen since breakfast? “Daddy, when I’m dressed up like a girl, you’re supposed to call me Louisa.”
“Is that right?”
“Yep, it sure is.” She danced into the room with her pink dress flapping around her. “Do you think Ms. Doc will like my dress?”
“Well, I don’t see why she wouldn’t. You’re the prettiest girl around.”
“You think Ms. Doc is pretty?”
Reese swallowed the tension in his throat. “I can’t think of any reason not to.”
“I want my hair to grow long like hers.”
Reese expected Lou to want to be like Dee. She’d copied Emma for the past year, as Emma went through all her weird fashion trials, but Lou’s desire to be like Dee brought his thoughts to pause. Dee carried a pretty heavy weight with her. A past still controlling her life and a heap of unfinished business in her heart.
He needed to take thingsa littleslower, for his sake and the kids. Lou might remember her Mama a little, maybe even the blessed few times Jana took an interest in her little girl, but most of her girly memories had been spent with Emma, Rainey, and Mama long before Jana ever died.
And Dee had never disguised her desire to move away from Ransom. Maybe Reese needed to slow way down and stop thinkin’ with only his heart and hormones, instead of his head. Experience gave him a tough lick, and one he needed to consider before diving headlong into a relationship, especially since he went into any romance with a long-term view.
Dee wasn’t like Jana—unfeeling toward her children, emotionally unpredictable. Old fury and memories simmered beneath the surface of his skin searching for a place or time to explode. Dee wasn’t like Jana. He tamped down the pain and wondered for half a second about Charlottesville. With its Mennonite community and wealth of farmland, it was ripe for his type of work—or at least the work he wanted to do.
Slow down. He blew out a slow breath.Be smart. And think about more than dark eyes, long legs, and moonlit kisses.
He sat down on the closed toilet seat and pulled Lou up into his lap. “You remember, honey, Dee is only here for a little while, right? She might not be in Ransom for a long.”
Lou ran her hands along her dress and nodded. “That don’t bother me none. I’ll just do what you told me when my new teacher came.”
“What was that?”
Lou’s brows crinkled and she took on a serious tone. “You said, ‘If we know Ms. Cooper’s leavin’ next year to get married, then we best enjoy her while we got her.’”
Reese laughed. “Yea, I reckon I did say that.”
“’Course you did. I ain’t lyin’.”
Well, he’d enjoy Adelina while she was here, and when the time came for her to fly away? Reese inwardly groaned and hugged his young’uns close. Dee wanted Charlottesville. His home was in Ransom. He’d trust the good Lord for a third option.
Chapter 14
Have you ever met a man of good character where women are concerned? (Pygmalion, Act 3)
As Reese walked into Daphne’s, Brandon on his hip and Lou sashaying her pink skirt at his side, awareness dawned crystal clear. Dee found a new dream. One growing as sturdy and homespun as the cornstalks lining the road between town and the Mitchells.
Home.
The hint of its sweetness lingered like an unsung melody, waiting for the first strum.
