A Match Made in Texas. Arlene James

A Match Made in Texas - Arlene James


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Gallow’s care at once, but she knew too well what her father’s reaction to that would be.

      “I suppose we’ll see you in the morning, then,” Hypatia said primly.

      “As soon as Dad sits down to his breakfast,” Kaylie confirmed with a nod.

      “Your father used to make his own breakfast,” Magnolia pointed out with a sniff.

      “Yes, I know.” Her father used to do a lot of things that he seemed determined no longer to do. “Now I must get home.” She rose and moved toward the door.

      “Thank you for coming by, dear!” Odelia chirped. “Tell brother we’ll have him to dinner soon, why don’t you?”

      “I’ll do that,” Kaylie replied, rushing through the foyer. “See you tomorrow.”

      She closed the door behind her with a sigh of relief before starting across the porch and down the steps to the boxy little red convertible that waited at the edge of the deeply graveled drive. She really needed some time alone. Her father had no doubt fed himself from the roast and vegetables that she’d left in the Crock-Pot that morning, and her own stomach was too tied in knots to allow her hunger to plague her. The sooner she took this matter to God, however, the sooner she would have her answer. And the sooner God’s plan for them all, Stephen Gallow included, could come to fruition, for a plan He must have. The Almighty always did.

      “Such a darling that girl is,” Odelia said with a sigh. “She reminds me a good deal of you, Hypatia.”

      “Nonsense,” Hypatia said, sipping from her teacup. “I would never have allowed Hubner to get out of hand as he has.”

      Well, that was true, Odelia had to concede. Hypatia never let anything or anyone get out of hand, while Odelia, conversely, seldom had things in hand. Like now. She’d only wanted to help, though. Perhaps she and Kaylie were more alike than she’d realized. Kaylie always sought to please everyone around her all the time. She had allowed Hub to take advantage of her to the point that she hardly had a life of her own anymore. Odelia bit her bright pink lip.

      “Feeling sorry for himself, at his age,” Magnolia grumbled about their brother. “We don’t sit around feeling sorry for ourselves.”

      “Oh, but we have each other,” Odelia pointed out.

      “Our brother has four adult children, three granddaughters and two great-grandsons,” Hypatia pointed out.

      “And he’s been blessed with love twice,” Mags added.

      “That’s right!” Odelia said with a happy giggle. Trust her sisters to put everything into proper perspective. “Perhaps he’ll even be blessed a third time!”

      “At his age?” Mags snorted, recoiling.

      “What has age got to do with it?” Odelia wanted to know. Surely Magnolia wasn’t hinting that romantic love had forever passed them by. Why should that be?

      “I hardly think,” Hypatia interceded sternly, “that Hubner will find a third wife in time for Kaylie to decide she isn’t needed by him so she can help us with our…guest.”

      Problem, she had been about to say. But not their problem. Oh, no, Stephen Gallow was more rightly Odelia’s problem. Squelching a sigh, she put on a wobbly smile.

      “I’m quite sure it will all work out for the best.”

      “God willing,” Hypatia inserted. “Be that as it may, it was not well done of you, Odelia, obligating us to take in this…this…”

      “Hockey player,” Magnolia supplied, her tone leaving little doubt that she considered the man a ruffian of the worst sort. Last night’s unhappy contretemps had only confirmed that opinion.

      Odelia bowed her head in contrition. Hypatia was right about her obligating the sisters unfairly. But what was she supposed to have done? There she was, sitting in Brooks’s waiting room, having made an appointment for her yearly physical, when suddenly she’d been swept into his office and told about this poor, injured man who hadn’t a place in the world to go and hardly anyone to care for him. It had sounded so reasonable the way Brooks had explained it all, and when he’d asked it as a personal favor, well, what could she do but say yes? And the payment they’d offered!

      Well, of course, the Chatams never accepted payment for kindness, but there was the new single parents’ ministry at the Downtown Bible Church to consider. She’d thought that worthwhile project would welcome a hefty contribution. Still, the sisters had barely settled back into their normal routine after their nephew Reeves had moved from Chatam House, with his bride, Anna, and daughter, Gilli, before along came Mr. Gallow. If only he had not so quickly proven to be such a presence in the house.

      “I’m sure God will work it all out for the best,” Odelia offered meekly. “If Kaylie does decide to help us, even Hub will benefit, don’t you think? He’ll have to take up his life again, then. Yes?”

      “You could be right,” Hypatia said after a moment.

      “I agree,” Magnolia added reluctantly. “But just so you know—” she glared at Odelia “—whatever happens, I, for one, will not be emptying any bedpans.”

      Odelia felt the color drain from her face. Oh, dear. Surely it wouldn’t come to that. No one could expect them to…Quickly, she set aside her teacup and held out her hands.

      “Sisters,” she said earnestly, “I feel the need to pray.”

      Chapter Three

      Clasping her hands together, Kaylie bowed her head over the evening meal. “Father God, we thank You and praise You on this, Your Sabbath Day,” she prayed. “You have restored Dad’s health and given us lives of comfort and security. Bless Bayard and his family, Morgan and Chandler, the aunts and all our Chatam kin. Turn our minds ever to Your service, Lord, and let us not forget that we serve You only by serving others—which reminds me, Father, of that poor Mr. Gallow whom the aunts have taken in. Heal him, Lord, in such a way as to bring glory to Yourself, so that he is forever aware of Your love and power. Direct our paths, Father, and make Your will known to us, and finally, bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies. These things we pray in the name of Your Holy Son, Jesus the Christ. Amen.”

      “Amen,” Hub Chatam echoed.

      Dressed simply in black slacks and a white shirt, Hub un-buttoned and rolled back the cuffs of his sleeves before picking up his fork. His thinning hair, a mixture of light brown and ash-gray, seemed at odds with his bushy white eyebrows and dark brown eyes. Pushing up his bifocals with the tip of one finger, he trained those dark eyes on his daughter.

      Kaylie had turned the remnants of his lunch into a hearty beef stew for their dinner, serving it with buttered bread and prepackaged salad. She kept her gaze carefully averted, applying herself to her meal. For several moments, silence reigned in the cozy, outdated kitchen, broken only by the clink of flatware. Kaylie could feel the comment coming, however, and finally it arrived.

      “You waxed eloquent this evening, Kaylie.”

      She smiled. “Did I? Guess that’s what comes of spending time praying.”

      “That’s what you were doing this afternoon, sitting out in the backyard in the lawn chair? You were praying?”

      Nodding, she scooped up a bite of stew. “Spring is a wonderful time to talk to God out of doors. I couldn’t resist.”

      “Little warm for mid-April,” her father muttered.

      “Mm. We could be in for a hot summer.”

      “When have we not?”

      Kaylie chuckled. “True.”

      Conversation lagged for a few minutes, and finally they got to the crux of the matter. “Who is this Mr. Gallow you mentioned? I assume he is the reason you dumped me after church and raced off to answer your aunts’ beck and call.”


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