Lightning and Lace - By DiAnn Mills Page 0,13

make Ben proud of me. I want him to look down from heaven and not worry about poor Bonnie and his children.” She stopped herself before uttering another word. “My, I’ve said far too much.”

“I understand, and I’ll keep your secrets.”

“It’s easier to talk in the dark.”

“You can always talk to me. No one ever hears about it but the Lord.”

“This ranch never would have made it without you. You’re worth your weight in gold. Tomorrow I want to start learning more about everything you do.”

“Are you sure? It’ll take lots time.”

“I’m positive. I want folks to say that I’m just like the rest of my family. I’ll pay you extra for your effort.”

He laughed lightly. “No thanks. Seeing you take an interest in things is payment enough for me. Me and the Lord been talkin’ about you. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I need all the prayers I can get. And Zack . . .” She took a breath. “He needs prayers too.”

“Yes, ma’am. He’s had a hard time of it. You want me to leave you alone or wait till you’re finished?”

“Best wait. Your presence keeps me accountable.”

When the hole was large enough, she slammed the shovel onto the bottle’s neck and broke it. Glass tumbled into the hole with the wine. She piled dirt on top with a fierce vengeance.

“I’ll put the shovel away,” he said.

“No, I need to do this whole thing. All my life, somebody’s been doing things for me that I could do myself.”

Once the task was completed and she had made her way back inside the house, she took a moment to remember the many nights she and Ben had crept outside to watch the stars. Yawning, she mounted the stairs, feeling very satisfied and amazingly lighthearted. She slipped inside the door of each child’s room and planted a kiss on a sweet cheek. Only Zack awoke.

“What’s wrong, Mama?” he said through a sleep-laden voice.

“Nothing.” She touched his head and wove her fingers through his hair. “I love you, Zack, and I know you aren’t happy. I won’t let you get by with any more bad behavior. Loving you means making you mind.”

“I don’t think you can do it.”

She smiled in the darkness. Odd how burying a bottle of wine could give her such confidence. “I’m not sure how, but I will find a way.”

Zack turned over and pulled the sheet over his face.

“Hiding from the truth doesn’t make it any less the truth,” she said. “You may be too old to whip, but there are other ways.”

“How?”

“Military school.”

The sheet whipped back. “I’d run away.”

“And do what? Lie? Steal? The law would find you and punish you worse than I ever could. You’re hurting, Zack. Why not talk to Grandpa or one of your uncles?”

“They don’t care about me. No one does.”

“Like I said before, I love you. All of our family cares about you.” Bonnie didn’t attempt to continue the conversation. She’d taken a giant step this night, and tomorrow she’d take another.

“I’ll hurt Michael Paul and Lydia Anne if you try to stop me from doing what I want.”

“You’d hurt the ones who love you?” A tear slipped from her eye. To think this was only the beginning of making up for all her mistakes.

*****

Early Saturday morning, Travis and the reverend walked down the road away from town. Dew-kissed leaves glistened in the early sunlight, and birds called to one another in bright song.

“I want to learn all there is to know about Piney Woods Church before tomorrow.” Travis laughed. “I sound like a kid.”

“Just eager. We do church simple here in Kahlerville. Sunday morning, evening, and Wednesday night prayer meetin’. Sunday school is at nine with church at ten, and we usually have revival services in early spring. Deacons meet once a month, and the ladies have a Bible study with Jocelyn every Thursday morning.”

Travis smiled. “Good. What about a choir?”

“Not regularly. Grant’s wife, Jenny, plays piano and has organized folks to sing on special occasions.”

“I’m hoping we could start one. Do you think many would be interested?”

“I think you’d have a good turnout. When would you practice?”

Travis considered the church week. “Most likely Wednesday evenings before prayer meetin’. I’ll put the matter to prayer.”

“And I will too. Heard you singing last night. Right pleasing voice. I suspect we could have a fine choir.” He paused. “I just remembered something. An old friend of mine said he heard you preach a revival. Said it greatly moved him, much like

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