Read City Girl Page 11

"No."

  "Were you going to tell me?"

  "Certainly not! You might have taken your cake back."

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  Reagan found herself laughing. She hadn't expected to.

  She was ready to be embarrassed about bringing food to a

  gathering when it was not needed, but suddenly that

  didn't matter.

  "Hello," a woman called from up near the house. "Did you make that cake? She didn't have to make a cake,

  Cash," the woman said to him as though it was all his fault

  "Land sakes alive! Give it to me now and go join the games.

  This one's going to make my cakes look terrible. Look at all

  that frosting."

  Reagan stood with her mouth open as the scrappy little

  woman had her say, took the cake, muttering the entire

  time, and disappeared inside the huge ranch house. She

  finally looked up to see her host smiling at her and remembered

  to shut her mouth.

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  "That was Katy," Cash supplied. "She takes care of me."

  "Do you need someone to take care of you?"

  "Constantly," he said dryly. "Come on, Reagan. Lef s

  join the party out back."

  "Is it me?" Reagan asked of Holly a few hours later, "or

  is everyone here extremely nice?"

  Holly smiled. The two women were walking alone near

  the pond. People were milling everywhere, but no one else

  was a part of their conversation.

  "That's a hard one to answer, Reagan," Holly said,

  opting for complete honesty.

  "Why is that?"

  "Because I don't want to lead you to believe that we're

  perfect We all have feet of clay."

  "Feet of clay?"

  Holly was swiftly reminded of how Christians can fall

  into using cliches that aren't helpful to others.

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  "That saying comes from the book of Daniel in the Old

  Testament. The passage is talking about a statue that's

  made of fine gold and silver, but its feet are made partly of

  clay and partly of iron, so it's vulnerable in that area.

  "I just now used the phrase since I'm afraid that your

  brief time with us has given you the wrong impression.

  Yes, people are nice--very nice--but thaf s only because of

  the work God has done in our hearts. We still sin/ and

  sometimes we're not kind to each other, but most of the

  people here have made a personal commitment to God

  through His Son, and because of that, we're changed."

  Reagan nodded but didn't comment The women continued

  to circle the pond, sometimes walking among the

  pecan trees that bordered two sides. Holly kept glancing at

  Reagan's face, and when she could read her expression, she

  had to ask the question in her heart.

  "Have I said too much, Reagan?"

  "No, but it takes a little getting used to."

  "What does?"

  "People who call themselves Christians but are humble

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  about it."

  "Reagan," Holly said firmly, "I think it's time you tell me

  what kind of Christian you've known in the past."

  "I thought the usual kind," Reagan admitted, "but

  you're smashing all those notions."

  "How am I doing that?"

  "By admitting that you still sin. The Christians I've

  known made me feel as though I was the only sinner in the

  world. They never once talked about not being perfect."

  "And you knew better,"

  Reagan stopped and stared at her. Holly stopped with

  her.

  "They would carry their Bibles everywhere but not stop

  to give a coin to someone starving in the street! They went

  to church and talked with each other, but they only came

  near the rest of us when they were ready to preach a street

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  sermon. I told myself that if that's what becoming perfect

  means, they could have it!"

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  "And well you should," Holly shocked her by saying.

  "You agree with me?"

  "Of course I do. Clearly these people hadn't spent much

  time looking at the life of Jesus Christ He went wherever

  He was needed. He was thronged by the sick and helpless.

  His own comfort was never foremost in His mind. He

  always looked for a way to teach. At times He preached,

  but often He healed the sick with just a word or two about

  who He was. He saw to the physical needs as well as confronting

  the spiritually sick time and again, but anyone

  who did call on Him, anyone who wanted to know the way

  of salvation, was never turned away. It's the same today.

  We can call on Jesus Christ, and He will save."

  "When did you call on Him, Holly? When did you

  believe all of this?"

  "When I was a child. My parents believed in Christ, and

  one night when I was frightened by the dark, my father

  talked with me about God's being everywhere, whether it

  was dark or light. Then he said God wasn't in one place

  that he knew of, and I naturally wanted to know what he

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  meant. My father was talking about my own heart. So that

  night he explained to me the way Christ died for me, and I

  believed."

  "The next race is starting!" The loud call came to

  everyone within earshot of the pond, "line up behind the

  house, and we'll group off by ages."

  Holly glanced up and then back to Reagan.

  "Do you want to keep talking about this, Reagan, or join

  the race?"

  "Lets go watch the race," Reagan said without hesitation,

  but then asked, "Is that okay?"

  "It sure is, as long as you know where you can come

  with your questions."

  "I know, Holly." Reagan put a hand on her arm. "Thank

  you."

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  The women moved with the group toward the rear of

  the house, and for the moment, the subject was dropped.

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  $r

  "She rents from you?" Jerome Hill, one of the single men

  from church, clarified as he sat at a table with Russell and

  Cash.

  Russell nodded. "Since the middle of January."

  "And how did she end up at our church? Has she said?"

  "It wasn't by her design, I know that. She was walking

  through town on a Sunday morning and heard us singing."

  "And what does she think?"

  Russell smiled. "Last I knew she was still trying to figure

  us out."

  "So you don't think she's a believer?"

  "No, I don't. She's searching--Holly and I can see that-- but I can't tell where she'll end up."

  Jerome nodded, his face not giving anything away, but

  Russell understood the questions. Theirs was a church

  unlike others in that they had a surplus of single, inter-ested-in-marriage

  men. There was not one single young

  woman in the church, for the simple reason that nearly all

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  who entered found themselves courted and married. This

  didn't happen all that often, but when it did, it gave the

  waiting men more hope that God might have a bride for

  them, one who shared their beliefs.

  "I wish I could tell you she was a believer, Jerome; not

/>   just for her sake, but for yours as well."

  "Well, I can still pray for her, can't I? Even if nothing

  ever comes of it for me, I can still ask God to save her."

  "Indeed, Jerome. Someday she might even thank you for that."

  Jerome didn't stay at the table too much longer, but the

  moment he left, Russell confronted Cash.

  "Why haven't you asked me about Reagan?"

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  "I was the first one to meet her that Sunday, Russ. I

  know the situation."

  'True, but you've never mentioned her need for salvation."

  "But you know I'm aware. I pray for her every time God

  brings her to mind."

  "And how often is that?" Russell asked, watching him

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  closely.

  Cash smiled. Ttiis was the crux of the matter, and they

  both knew it.

  "There are two problems here, Russ, and you know the

  first one."

  "Yes, I do," he admitted quietly, knowing this conversation

  was one between good friends. Russell Bennett would

  never wish for his friend to marry an unbeliever, no matter

  how endearing. He now stated it plainly.

  "You can't go falling for a woman who isn't a believer."

  "Exactly."

  "But I don't know the second reason."

  "That has to do with Reagan herself," Cash explained.

  "Even if she did come to Christ, I can see that she doesn't

  want a man of her own. She doesn't mind being friendly to

  all of us, women and children included, but she isn't

  looking for a husband."

  Considering that neither Russell nor Holly had told

  Cash this, Russell thought him rather astute.

  "You're right She fears having a man control her."

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  "I thought as much. I would say she's wise about living

  life on her own, and because of that, I think she's a little

  short on trust"

  "She's used to taking care of herself; I can tell you that."

  Cash suddenly laughed. "She rode up the drive on that

  bicycle, the cake held in one hand.. .1 was very impressed."

  "Did she think it was potiuck?"

  Cash nodded.

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  Cries from Alisa stopped the conversation. They both

  looked up to see Holly coming with the baby in her arms,

  a red-stained handkerchief held against the child's head.

  "She pulled herself up next to a tree," Holly explained,

  "and then proceeded to fall against it and cut her head on

  the bark."

  "Go on into the house, Holly," Cash instructed as Russell

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  rose to hold the door. "Katy's in the kitchen."

  Cash smiled at the big, tragic eyes that looked at him

  from Alisa's tiny face just before she buried it against her

  mother again.

  "How is she?" Reagan asked, coming up as they went

  into the house, a baby's blanket in her hands.

  "I think she'll live."

  "You're sure to be right She's the third, and they're usually

  pretty tough."

  "Do you speak from experience?"

  "Not personally, no, but several large families lived on

  my street in New York. I was close to one of them, and we

  ended up with the saying, There's no one tougher than the

  youngest Caminiti.'"

  "And who was the youngest Caminiti?" Cash asked,

  working to get his mouth around the different-sounding

  name.

  'Tony/' Reagan said with a smile. "An adorable, round-faced

  two-year-old who had a smile for everyone."

  "You miss them, don't you?"

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  "The people, yes, but not New York." Reagan glanced

  around. "The sky here is so big, even at night. There's more

  dust than I thought existed anywhere on the earth, but I

  can live with that."

  Cash looked down into her earnest face, the creamy

  complexion, the dark, curly hair and intense dark eyes, and

  found himself praying for Jerome. There was no doubt

  about the right thing to do, but if the men in the church

  weren't careful, they were going to succumb to this

  woman's charms.

  %r "

  "Thank you for everything," Reagan told Katy at the

  end of the evening. Her bike was already loaded in the rear

  of the Bennetts' wagon, but Reagan didn't want to leave

  without thanking the woman who had done so much

  work.

  "Well, don't be a stranger," the ranch housekeeper said.

  "You come back anytime. That cake was a good one. Have

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  you got your plate?" she asked for the third time.

  "Yes, ma'am. Thanks again."

  Katy waved her off, dismissing the words--something,

  Reagan noticed, she did with everyone. A few minutes

  later Reagan found herself in the back of the wagon with

  the Bennett children, darkness coming fast They made the

  ride home in near silence, the children almost asleep at the

  end of the drive, and the adults alone in their thoughts.

  Reagan enjoyed picturing the ranch in her mind. She

  thought it was a wonderful place, so wide open and grand.

  The trees that sat in front of the large two-story ranch house

  had provided abundant shade. Reagan had walked

  through the barn, which had dozens of horse stalls, and

  stood at the corral fence. This city girl wasn't any judge of

  horseflesh, but Cash's horses seemed very fine indeed. And

  the pond. Reagan smiled at the memory. Pecan trees,

  wooden benches, and a nice expanse of water all lingered

  in her mind as she watched the children swim, sat with the

  adults to visit, or walked with Holly around the perimeter.

  Some of her conversation with that lady came back to

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  mind, but her brain was too weary to take it in.

  Had she but known that Russell and Holly were in the

  same position, she would have laughed. Both of them wondered

  if she'd had a good time and what she'd thought of

  the day and the people, but neither one had the energy to

  ask.

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  Home came into view when all were more tjfian ready to

  arrive, and with only the briefest words of goo *I night, they

  unloaded the wagon and went their separate vays.

  'Tou're meeting who for dinner tonight?"

  "iy. He says he has a job for me. And ycvu know I'm

  always trying to better myself."

  Sally's brows rose. "What's the job?"

  "He wants to discuss it with me Inert."

  Sally looked more than a little skeptical, anc Reagan was

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  not going to let that pass.

  "Should I not trust him?"

  "I didn't say that."

  "But you're thinking it."

  "No, I'm not. iy is utterly respectable, but he doesn't

  have the type of job that would need a woman's help."

  "What does he do?" Reagan asked, knowing full well

  she should have asked the man himself.

  "He builds houses."

  Reagan blinked.

  "Like with a hammer and nails?"

  Sally laughed. "Yes, just like mat."

  Reagan chewed her lip a moment. The breakfast crowd

  was long gone, and she was working
or cleanup. A

  moment later, the same dry pot in her hand, she told herself

  to go through with the evening's plans-

  "Well,

  I'm going to meet him and at least hear him out"

  "Why isn't he picking you up? In my day, a lady didn't

  meet a man on the streets."

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  "You make it sound clandestine. I just feel safer not

  having men know where I live. 'In your day/"she went on

  to mutter. "You sound 102."

  "I feel 102, believe me."

  That night, as Reagan stood and waited forty to arrive,

  she remembered the conversation from the Doming. She

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  wasn't really worried, but she was early for the meeting in

  hopes that her escort would come soon and she could ask

  him about his business and the job he had in mind.

  "Well, Reagan," said a male voice to her right side.

  Reagan turned to see Cash coming up the street

  "Hello," she greeted him.

  The tall cowboy came up the boardwalk and stopped as

  Reagan turned to speak to him.

  "You look as though you're meeting someone."

  "lam."

  "What's her name?"

  "If s not a woman."

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  Cash frowned. "A gentleman asked you out for the

  evening but didn't offer to escort you from home?"

  His tone put Reagan off a bit, but she still admitted, "I

  asked to meet him."

  "Why would you do that?"

  Reagan's gaze shifted away and back again before she

  answered.

  "I didn't want him to know where I lived."

  Cash's face told her she'd shocked him.

  "Let me get this straight," Cash said, a little too calmly.

  "You're going to spend the evening with this man, but you

  don't trust him enough to tell him where you live?"

  Reagan's gaze shifted again. She started a little when

  Cash suddenly moved and sat on one of the benches in

  front of the hotel

  "What are you doing?" Reagan asked as she turned to

  watch. He was only ten feet away.

  "I'm sitting here to make sure you're going to be all

  right"

  "You might be used to people talcing care of you,"

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  Reagan informed him, her mood growing dark, "but I do

  just fine on my own,"

  "Thaf s why you're sitting safely at home waiting for

  this man to escort you safely to dinner."

  Reagan frowned at him.

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  "Who is it, by the way?"

  "Tyrone Arnold."

  Cash didn't comment, and Reagan got angry.

  "You don't have to do this/' she hissed at him.

  Cash only stared back at her, crossed his booted ankles,