Their Small-Town Love. Arlene JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.
building a big new house here and hoping that our grandfather, Hap, will move in with them once it’s finished.”
“Is that likely?”
Ryan sucked in a deep breath, mentally shifting gears. “I’m not sure he’ll have any other choice in the end. He’s almost eighty-one, and his arthritis isn’t going to get any better. If not for Cara, he couldn’t manage the motel now.”
“And if she has a new baby, she won’t be able to help out,” Ivy concluded.
“Exactly. I can’t see Holt letting her continue much longer in any event,” Ryan mused aloud. “Quite the protector, our Holt. Can’t say I blame him, though. It’s physically demanding work, and as you know, Cara’s a little thing.”
“What will happen to the motel if your grandfather gives it up?” Ivy asked.
“Ty and Charlotte have a young Hispanic couple they’d like to bring in to take over, with an eye maybe to buying the place. Makes sense when you think about it. None of us is going to take on the place. But, as I said, it’s Hap’s decision.”
“Will he be unreasonable?”
“No, I don’t think so. That’s not Granddad. In the end, I think he’ll give it up for the great-grandbabies.”
“Babies? Plural?”
Ryan shrugged. “Holt and Cara make no secret of their intentions, and Charlotte and Ty will start a family eventually, I’m sure. Probably sooner rather than later. And there’s Ace, already.”
“Hap accepts him as part of the family?”
“Of course. We all do.”
Ivy turned a look up at him that seemed part hope and part doubt. “Just like that?”
Ryan chuckled. “You obviously haven’t met my nephew yet. He’s quite the little charmer.”
“Actually,” Ivy said, ducking her head, “I think I have. He seems to have that confidence peculiar to children who are greatly loved.”
“You bet. That’s what babies are for, isn’t it? Loving?”
She didn’t answer that. After a moment, Ryan felt compelled to ask, “What about you? You interested in having children some day?”
Ivy tucked her chin to her chest. “I don’t think I’m meant for that.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” he said, needing, for some reason, to validate her choice.
Her head popped up. “Really? You don’t want a family of your own?” She sounded affronted, yet she’d just basically said the same thing, hadn’t she?
“The way I look at it,” Ryan explained carefully, “I already have a family, a suddenly growing family, and of course I have my students.”
“They must mean a lot to you.”
He smiled. “Can’t seem to help it. You might even say the thing’s gotten a bit out of hand. Some of them really need an adult to just listen.”
Ivy tilted her head, the sleek curtain of her long dark hair sweeping across her shoulder blades. “Is that enough for you? Listening to other people’s kids?”
Ryan shifted uncomfortably. “Well…my job and my family keep me very busy, and…” He rubbed a hand over his face before abruptly deciding to give in to the impulse to say what he had never said to anyone else. “You probably remember what happened when my dad died.”
“Your mom’s suicide,” Ivy whispered, nodding.
“Marriage seems like a really big risk to me,” he admitted.
“I used to think so, too.”
“Not anymore?”
She pondered that before shrugging. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “Love is risky, no doubt about it, but family…” She looked up at him with wide, pain-filled eyes. “Family is worth very nearly everything.”
She had a point there, Ryan admitted silently. He would risk much for his family, not just Hap and Holt and Charlotte, but for his brother-in-law and sister-in-law and nephew, too. What would he risk for a wife and child of his own? He was almost afraid to find out.
“Quite a crowd this year,” Ryan remarked softly, looking around at the people already spread over the gently rolling landscape.
Ivy nodded in agreement. There were more people present than she remembered from years past, but it had been so long that she had no idea if this had become the norm.
The simple service of yesteryear had obviously given way to a more sophisticated approach. She noticed an outdoor sound system tucked into inconspicuous places, and flickering patio torches had been placed at intervals to mark the space from which the service would be conducted. Atop the hill behind that space, in increasingly stark silhouette, stood three crosses temporarily erected for the service. Around the topmost section of the center cross hung a crown fashioned of thorny vines.
In the center of the marked-off space stood a large rock, across which a length of purple fabric and several long-stemmed lilies had been arranged in artful abandon. This apparently served as a makeshift altar as two men knelt next to it in fervent prayer. One of them she recognized as Grover Waller, the middle-aged pastor of First Church, a little older and rounder and with thinner hair, but the same pastor nonetheless. The other was a younger man Ivy did not know. At her whispered query, Ryan informed her that his name was Davis Latimer, the new minister of the church on Magnolia. He, along with his congregation, had been invited to participate in this earliest Easter morning service.
Ivy felt a chill. Glancing around, she wondered if her father might be in attendance. She looked down, telling herself that if he saw her he would surely avoid her. Perhaps it would be best if he did see her. It would spare Rose the awkwardness of having to inform him of her visit.
A reverent hush enveloped the ever-growing crowd, some of whom stood or crouched. Others had possessed the foresight to bring along lawn chairs, while still others simply sat or knelt on the ground.
“I should have thought to bring something to sit on,” Ryan told her apologetically, leaning close.
Ivy gripped the sides of her wrap and held them out. “This will do.”
“Won’t you be chilled without it?”
“We’ll find a sheltered spot that blocks the breeze.”
“Let’s try over here,” he suggested, taking her hand to lead her down the gentle slope a little way to a cluster of boxy shrubs. Ivy spread the paisley shawl on the ground in front of the shrubs and sat, folding her legs back to one side. Ryan followed suit, scooting close to offer her the warmth of his large, muscular body, one palm braced flat on the ground behind her. “Comfortable?”
“Yes, thank you.”
They sat in silence for several minutes, watching the gradual lightening of the sky, before the pastors stood, Bibles in hand, and took up positions in front of the makeshift altar. Utter stillness descended, then Grover opened his Bible and in a clear but gentle voice began to read the prayer of Jesus from the seventeenth chapter of John. The other man picked up with the eighteenth and nineteenth chapters, telling about the betrayal and arrest of Christ, which included the Apostle John’s moving account of the crucifixion, before Grover began the twentieth.
“Now on the first day of the week Mary Magdalene came early to the tomb, while it was still dark, and saw the stone already taken away from the tomb….”
The pastor went on as the sun rose over the hilltop behind him, its golden rays seeming to reach out to all the world. He read how the risen Savior showed Himself to His astonished, jubilant followers and became the Light that pierces the darkness. Finally, Grover closed his Bible and stepped forward to speak.
“Mocked, stripped, scourged until