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The Prodigal Returns
Twelve years ago, Lorrie Ann Ortega left the tiny town of Clear Water with stars in her eyes. Now she’s back home—trying to live right and put her mistakes in the past. Even so, she’ll never be the kind of woman who would make a good wife for the handsome widowed pastor, John Levi. But when she agrees to be nanny to his two sweet daughters, she’s thrown constantly in his path. And she can’t keep herself from dreaming that a man like John could one day love her. Can a prodigal daughter turn into a pastor’s wife?
“Are you lost?”
His deep Texas drawl washed over her. Lorrie Ann shook her head and searched for words.
“No, but I’m sure that depends on who you ask.” Raising her gaze, she flashed her best smile. In California it had never failed her.
Instead, he glanced off into the pasture, at the cows. “Is that your car up ahead?”
She sighed. Apparently, Texas cowboys were a completely different breed from the men she had been working with in Los Angeles.
“Yeah, I ran out of gas.”
“Anyone I can call for you?”
“No, no. Really, as soon as I get my phone, I’m good.”
He turned that devastating smile back on her. “How your phone ended up in a cow pasture is bound to be an interesting story.” He held his hand out to her, the fence still between them. “I’m John Levi.”
Lorrie Ann smiled back at him, a genuine smile this time. It felt good. The past couple years anything real had been hard to find.
JOLENE NAVARRO
Jolene’s life, much like her stories, is filled with faith, family, football, art, laughter, dirty dishes and all of life’s wonderful messiness. She knows that, as much as the world changes, people stay the same. Good and evil. Vow-keepers and heartbreakers. Jolene married a vow-keeper who showed her that holding hands and dancing in the rain never gets old. When she’s not teaching art to energetic middle-schoolers or hanging out with her four kids, she loves creating stories of love and faith in her much-loved Texas.
Lone Star Holiday
Jolene Navarro
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
—Matthew 11:28
To Granner, JoAnn Hutchinson,
for sharing her faith and love of writing.
For Katrina, Storm, Tate and Bridger, thank you
for all the dinners cooked and dishes washed.
My greatest joy is being your mother.
To Fred for being you and allowing me to be me.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Dear Reader
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
Lorrie Ann’s sports car hugged the curves of the country road. Fence posts and cattle flew past her window as she ran back to the small town she fled twelve years ago. No one had warned her that in the pursuit of fame and fortune she could become emotionally and spiritually bankrupt. She glanced at the Bible with the purple tattered note sticking out of it. Well, her aunt might have, but she had been too stubborn to listen.
On the soft leather seat, next to the Bible, her cell vibrated again. Brent’s face filled the screen. How did she ever find her now-ex-fiancé’s grin charming? For two years she had ignored his behavior—until yesterday. Their last fight had escalated to the point where he’d hit her. When had she become her mother? Relationships were not her thing, and the situation with Brent proved her right.
That was the moment she took a long hard look at her life and didn’t like what she saw. She had no one to turn to. They shared the same friends. He played the drums for the band she managed.
She hadn’t taken a vacation in three years. With the holidays coming up she’d called the lead singer of the band she managed and told her she was heading home. Where was home? With nowhere to go, she headed to the only place she had family—her aunt’s pecan farm in Clear Water, Texas. She couldn’t imagine anyplace more different than Los Angeles.
The phone went quiet only to start chiming again a moment later. Teeth gritted, she shifted gears and picked up speed. She didn’t want to hear his apologies.
A burst of anger had her grabbing the phone and throwing it out the window. She dashed past the green sign that said Clear Water was eight miles. She turned up the music and pushed down on the gas pedal only to have the engine sputter and jerk. The steering wheel became stiff under her hands. With all her muscle she forced the BMW to the side of the road.
She checked the gauges and sighed. No gas, no phone, and she only had herself to blame.
One moment of temper had caused her to chuck her phone out of her car. Now she could walk the eight miles to town or walk back to find her phone—and hope that it still worked.
She needed to make the call she had been avoiding anyway, so she started the hike to find her phone.
Lorrie Ann fought to keep her balance as she walked back up the hill she had just driven down. Her five-inch-heel boots, designed for flat city life, didn’t take well to the rocky hike across the uneven ground.
The cool breeze whispered over her shoulders. She adjusted her brown felt fedora and glanced around the vast landscape of the Texas Hill Country. The Black Angus cows stopped chewing and silently watched her stumble along the fence. With one hand on the rough cedar post, she stared back. “What are you looking at?”
Great—less than a day back in Texas and she was talking to cattle. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “Dear God, I know for the last twelve years I put You in the backseat, and now I’m asking for help every time I turn around. Please, just give me the peace to know You’re in control and I’m doing the right thing.” Peace. She doubted she’d recognize it if it turned out to be a rattlesnake about to bite her.
A loud engine broke the endless silence of rolling hills. Lorrie Ann swung around, fearful for a moment of being so alone in the middle of nowhere without her phone.
A blue work-worn truck appeared over the hill. Coming straight at her, the black deer guard on the front looked menacing. The driver slowed down and pulled off the road.
Swallowing, she started praying for it to be a friendly stranger. The door swung open, displaying the Childress quarter-horse logo. Her heartbeat settled. She remembered the Childress family.
From behind the door stepped a walking Hollywood version of the American Cowboy. Tall and lean, his work-faded jeans rode low over slim hips. The dark T-shirt hugged his broad shoulders under a waist-length denim jacket. His fit body looked shaped by hours of working outdoors, instead of designed by a personal trainer. He must be one of the hired ranch hands.
He stepped across the road with confidence and walked in a way that might tempt a girl to give up her plans. Each stride of his long legs moved him closer to her. Her heart flip-flopped. She bit her lip. Stupid heart.
She had returned to Clear Water, Texas, to reconnect with God and to refill her spiritual bank, not to get tangled up in another relationship. Having her mom’s defective gene for picking men, her best option would be to remain male free.
A welcoming smile eased across his face. Lines creased the corners of golden-brown eyes and ran down his well-formed cheeks. One lone dimple appeared on the left side. Her mouth went dry.
“Are you lost?”
His deep Texas drawl washed over her. Lorrie Ann shook her head and searched for words.
“No, but I’m sure that depends on who you ask.” A nervous laugh ran away from her lips. She looked at the ground. Ugh, let me count the ways to sound like an idiot. Raising her gaze, she flashed her best smile. In California it never failed her.
Instead, he glanced off into the pasture, at the cows. “Is that your car up ahead?”
She sighed. Apparently, Texas cowboys were a completely different breed from the men she had been working with in Los Angeles.
“Yeah, I ran out of gas.”
Bringing his gaze back to her, he looked puzzled. “Town is about eight miles that way.” His long fingers pointed in the opposite direction she faced.
“I know, but my phone is somewhere over here.” She waved toward the pasture, and her collection of bracelets jingled.
On cue, the phone rang somewhere on the other side of the barbed-wire fence. At least Brent was good for something. “Oh, it still works.” She tried to climb between two strands of wire, but a barb snagged her long silk shirt, and her sunglasses hit the ground. When she turned to free the blouse, the top wire caught her hat, causing her hair to fall forward. The thick waves covered her face, blinding her.
“Hold still.” The cowboy’s voice emitted assurance. Gently his hands freed the corner of her shirt and held the wires farther apart so she could easily step through.
When she stood on the other side, she pushed her hair back. She reached for her oversize shades and shoved them over her eyes. Ouch! She’d forgotten the bruise. Her skin throbbed with a dull ache.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He leaned over the fence, handing her the hat.
Lorrie Ann didn’t like the look she read in the cowboy’s eyes. At best, it was concern, at worst, pity. Her nails cut into her palms. She hated pity.
“Anyone I can call for you?”
“No, no. Really, as soon as I get my phone, I’m good.”
He turned that devastating smile back on her. “How your phone ended up in a cow pasture is bound to be an interesting story.” He held his hand out to her, the fence still between them. “I’m John Levi.”
The phone sounded off again. Forgetting his hand, she spun around to locate the device. In a tall clump of gold grass, it vibrated. “I found it!” She lifted it high.
He smiled. “Now we just need to get you some gas, and you’ll be on your way. Where’re you headed?”
“Can you believe my destination is Clear Water?”
Lorrie Ann smiled back at him, a genuine smile this time. It felt good. The past couple years anything real had been hard to find, especially any type of happiness or joy.
“Come on.” He chuckled. “Let’s get you back on this side of the fence before the herd gets too curious.” He stepped on the bottom wire and held the top one up, leaving a large opening.
“Thanks.” With one hand on her hat, she stepped through without a problem this time.
“I’ll drive you to your car. I have some gas in a can in the back. Not sure your boots could make it down the hill.” She had forgotten cowboys always stayed prepared for anything. He held out his arm, like a gentleman from an old movie.
Her fingers wrapped around his denim sleeve. Masculine strength seeped through the sturdy material, warming her skin. “Thank you for helping.” Her shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe I ran out of gas this close to arriving home.”
“Home? You’re a local?” A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. “I should know better than to judge by appearances or license plates.”
“Oh, I’m probably everything you thought. I’m sure if you ask anyone in town, they’ll give you all the gory details.”
“In order to ask them, I’d have to know your name.”
She looked up at him, assessing his expression. “Hmm...that’s true.” Fear of what they would say tightened her muscles. She had left town in a swirl of lies started by the homecoming queen.
He waited a moment with eyebrows lifted. He finally grinned and closed her door. The cowboy walked around to the driver’s side. Climbing into the cab, he continued to grin.
His eyes stayed focused ahead as he eased them back onto the road. “So what brings you back to Clear Water?”
“My aunt. Maggie Schultz.”
“You’re Maggie’s niece, Lorrie Ann Ortega? She didn’t say anything about you coming home.”
She shouldn’t be surprised he knew her. Her aunt volunteered on about every committee in the small town and had always helped anyone that needed something, including her. “She doesn’t know.”
“She’s going to be thrilled.”
Lorrie played with the rip in her shirt. He obviously didn’t know the whole story. “I’m not so sure about that. It’s been a long time.”
“She’s been waiting for you.” He flashed her a quick glance accompanied by a grin. “Trust me. She’ll be very excited to see you.”
“How do you know her?”
He gave a casual shrug and smiled. “We’re at the same church.”
The big truck pulled up behind her small BMW. “Go open your tank. I’ll get the gas.” With a quick motion, he jumped out of the cab and went to the bed of his truck.
Leaping down from the side step, Lorrie Ann made her way to the silver BMW. She glanced into her car and cringed. With the top tucked away on her convertible, he would see the mess she had made in her twenty-five-hour run from California—the candy wrappers, huge plastic cups and haphazard packing that littered the backseat.
Yeah, it pretty much represented her life with Brent in L.A., all pretty and shiny on the outside and chaos on the inside. Now with no gas, the expensive machine sat on the side of the road, useless.
She leaned inside and picked up the Bible. The handwritten note from Aunt Maggie stuck out, purple and tattered around the edges. She didn’t need to read the words as they were etched in her memory. Matthew 11:28, Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Those words had brought her back to Texas, to the closest place she had ever called home. She had been working so hard to prove herself, but somewhere along the way she had lost sight of the big picture.
“You have a note from Maggie.” He nodded toward her Bible. “Which verse did she send you? I have a full collection.”
Unaware he had approached, Lorrie Ann blinked to clear her thoughts. Did Aunt Maggie send these notes to everyone? Not sure how that made her feel, she laid the Bible back in the car. “She’s always looking for ways to help.”
He nodded. “She’s a prayer warrior. We’re blessed to have her.”
This all felt very surreal. In the world she just left, no one spoke of God and prayer, let alone Bible verses. And if you did, they’d only laugh and make some witty cut-down.
She pulled in a deep breath. “I need to be going. Thanks so much for your help.”
“I’ll follow you into town. The closest gas station is the mercantile. We can stop there and get you filled up then head out to Bill and Maggie’s farm.”
“Oh, no. You’ve done enough.”
“It’s on my way. I can’t look your uncle and aunt in the eye if I don’t make sure you’re delivered safe and sound.” He winked at her. “See you in town.” He stepped back and walked to his truck.
Okay, then. Her knight in denim remained on the job. She shouldn’t like the idea. Slipping into her car, Lorrie Ann turned the key and pulled back onto the road. With a glance at her rearview mirror, she watched John follow her.
Scolding herself, she muttered, “Remember, Lorrie Ann, your short-term goal is to get your life back in order and get back to work. A boyfriend’s not even on the long-term list.”
* * *
John Levi turned on the radio. Music he had shut out five years ago filled the cabin of his truck. His fingers tipped the guitar pick hanging from the rearview mirror. Carol, his wife, had given it to him when they were still dating. He watched the heart she had drawn on it swing back and forth. It was the only piece of his music career he kept after her death. The pick reminded him of what he had taken for granted.
The sporty car in front of him pulled out, and he followed. Lorrie Ann Ortega was a surprise, and any pull he felt had to do with her needing help. Through her aunt and mother, he knew her past, and now he saw the wounded look in her eyes. She needed encouragement and support. He could do that for her.
He tapped his fingers along the cracked steering wheel.
* * *
Holding the phone in her hand, Lorrie Ann wavered calling Aunt Maggie. What if she didn’t want her? Her mother hadn’t wanted her. Now that she was an adult, her aunt and uncle had no responsibility to help her.
As she came into town, she eased on the brake. A burst of purple and silver stretched across Main Street and covered every storefront window, each proudly supporting the Fighting Angoras football team.
Homecoming week. The day after graduation, she’d made sure to tell everyone that she would never be back. How ironic that she return the week of the homecoming game. Some rituals never changed. Lorrie smiled. An unexpected comfort washed over her. Not a single fast-food or chain-store logo cluttered the skyline.
Her phone vibrated. With clenched teeth, she battled the urge to throw the phone out of the car again. She imagined running over it until nothing but dust clung to her tires.
She wanted to leave everything in Los Angeles behind, long enough to figure out her life, anyway. The band had taken the holidays off. Could she develop a new-life action plan in less than four weeks?
Pulling next to the aged gas pumps, Lorrie Ann pushed the button to roll the top back over the car. She took a deep breath, slid out of the car and straightened her spine.
Her hands shook slightly as she adjusted the oversize shades. Lorrie Ann ran a manicured finger over the convertible top of her Z4 BMW. Definitely not the hand-me-down Dodge she had driven away in as a scared teenager.
She took a slow surveillance of the single-street town. A group of old ranchers still sat in front of the feed store. Their never-ending game of dominoes was as much a part of the landscape as the giant oaks.
John parked his truck on the other side of her. “Here, let me fill her up for you.”
She was not used to men offering to do things for her unless they wanted something. It made her a bit uncomfortable. She noticed new construction at the end of the street, an unheard-of occurrence in Clear Water. She gestured to the site, causing her bracelets to jingle. “What’s being built? Looks like a regular building boom for Clear Water.”
He nodded and smiled at her as he held the gas nozzle to her car. “The churches have banded together to build a new youth building.”
A gleam came to his eyes, reminding her of a proud parent. Bringing his gaze back to hers, he continued, “There’s still some fundraising that needs to be done, but enough has been raised to get the building started.”
“Wow, I’m impressed.” She cut a glance toward him again. He turned his gaze on her, started to say something and then looked away.
The silence stretched and got awkward. She bit her lip. Say something, girl.
“Um...so are you involved in the project?”
“It’s my goal to see it done before summer.” Nodding, he stepped back and replaced the nozzle. “Well, your steed is fed. I’ll walk you to the store.”
She couldn’t hold in the giggle. Did she just actually giggle? Lorrie Ann took a moment to savor the joy.
“Thank you.” She slid a glance to the old ranchers, now openly staring at her and the cowboy. She waved at them. “Hi, boys.” Swinging back to her knight in faded denim, she winked. “Think they appreciated the show?”
He laughed. A real laugh not measured or managed.
“They enjoy anything new to talk about. Are you good? I could wait.”
“No, I’m fine. I need to pick up a few items, then I’ll make my escape to the pecan farm.” Yep, she had become very skilled at running. “Thank you for the escort.”
He looked right into her eyes, and for a second she forgot to breathe. She had the sensation he saw past the makeup and fashion to the real her.
“It’s a true pleasure meeting you, Lorrie Ann Ortega. Welcome back.” He tipped his hat and pulled open one of the glass double doors to the mercantile for her. A little bell made a sweet musical sound.
He gave her one last wink. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again. Can’t hide in a town this small.”
The door closed, and she turned and watched through the large storefront windows as he walked away. Once he disappeared from sight, she noticed the flyers in an array of colors taped everywhere, announcing cabins for rent, hunting leases available and horses for sale. Well, she was back.
A loud squeal filled the air followed by a high-pitched voice. “L.A.? Lorrie Ann. Oh, my, it is you!”
Lorrie Ann cringed at her old nickname. No one had called her L.A. for years. She found herself ambushed in a tight hug by a tall woman with big blond hair. Knocked off balance, Lorrie Ann grabbed the girl’s arms. A death grip kept her from moving back. The overzealous greeter yelled over her shoulder, “Vickie, hurry out here. L.A. is back in Clear Water!”
“Katy? Katy Norton?” Relief flooded Lorrie as she greeted one of the few girls she trusted from high school.
“I didn’t recognize you till you came in. You sure look fancy. I hear you hang with rock stars now. Your aunt says you’re getting married to the drummer of Burn White.” Katy leaned back, but her hands remained clasped around Lorrie’s forearm. “Maggie didn’t say anything about you coming for a visit.”
“She doesn’t know. How are you?” Lorrie Ann glanced around the grocery store. From the hundred-year-old wooden floor to the meat counter in the back, all appeared the same as it did in her memories. “You work at the mercantile?”
“I married Rhody. We manage the store for his parents now.”
“You married Rhody Buchanan?” Lorrie Ann forced her eyebrows back down. “He picked on you in high school.”
Katy smirked and playfully slapped Lorrie Ann on the shoulder. “Well, I came to find out it was just his way of flirting. We have four boys now.”
“You and Rhody have four kids...together?” Her forehead went up again.
Before Katy could answer, Vickie Lawson, the conductor of Lorrie Ann’s high-school nightmare, ambled from the deer-corn aisle.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t big-city girl L.A.” Vickie’s stare slowly moved up and down. “Thought you were never coming back to our town.”
“Honestly, I’m as surprised as you are to find myself here. I came to visit Aunt Maggie for the holidays.” Lorrie Ann’s gaze darted around the store.
Katy hugged her again. “She’s been waiting for you. We’ve all prayed for you to come home.” She threw her arms wide. “And lookie, you’re here, an answered prayer. You’ll have to tell me all about your exciting adventures in L.A.” Katy sighed.
Lorrie Ann could hear the expectation of glamorous stories about life in Los Angeles.
Vickie crossed her arms and leaned against the counter, face pulled tight. “Where’s your boyfriend? Waitin’ in the car? Probably thinks he’s too good for the likes of us.”
Lorrie Ann drew a deep breath and smiled the smile she used to close deals with in L.A. “No, he’s not here. We broke up.” She turned to Katy with a genuine smile. “Once I get settled, we can have lunch or something.”
“Ooh, just like in the movies!” Katy tilted her head. “Will you be at church for our Wednesday-night prayer meeting?” She nudged Lorrie Ann’s shoulder. “Looks like you already know Pastor John.”