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Megan's Hero (The Callahans of Texas Book #3): A Novel Page 10


  From what she’d seen of these women, Megan didn’t think anything stressed them out.

  “So we were wondering if you’d be our assistant.” Emily’s expression mirrored Jenna’s enthusiasm. “It wouldn’t be anything hard, ten to fifteen hours a week. If you could take care of some of our computer work and organize some things, it would be a tremendous help.”

  “For the most part, you could set your own hours and pace, so you can rest when you need to.” Sue paused for a sip of iced tea. “Emily would like some help at the museum with newsletters, inputting things on the computer, and only she knows what else.”

  “Trust me, I can find plenty of things for you to do.” Emily kicked off her sandals and curled her legs up on the couch.

  “Dusting the displays?” Megan grinned at her.

  “Nope. Thankfully, volunteers do that. Our primary museum on Main Street is in a wonderful old building that Chance restored and donated to the Historical Society. As Sue mentioned this morning, the Bradley-Tucker House is also part of the museum. It was built by Dr. Bradley, a physician and rancher who came here in 1895.”

  “Did he arrive here before or after the Callahans?” Megan shifted her position and put her feet up on the leather portion of the coffee table, which she’d noticed also served as an ottoman.

  “After,” said Sue. “Dub’s great-grandfather, Aidan, and his brother Jack brought a herd of longhorns out here in 1880. They established the ranch and the town.

  “Dr. Bradley built his home in 1904. His daughter, Sally Tucker, died a little over a year ago at 102. She had a keen interest in history and saved practically everything that had belonged to her parents and her own family.”

  “Sue convinced Sally’s daughter to donate the whole place, including all the contents, to us.” Emily smiled at her mother-in-law. “Besides wonderful antique furnishings in the main part of the house, Sally had enough treasures in two garages and the attic to practically fill the downtown museum.” She rested her head against the back of the couch with a happy sigh. “It’s the kind of donation museum curators dream of.”

  “I imagine so.” Until Megan got into real estate and saw homes decorated with beautiful antique furniture or in a casual country style, she hadn’t placed much value on old things. When she was growing up, everything in their home—when they had one—came from garage sales or junk stores.

  Not that she had anything against either one. For years, she’d filled her tiny apartment with Goodwill or garage sale finds. But she’d tried to pick quality items, not pans with peeling Teflon or tables with broken legs. Or a ratty-looking teddy bear that had already spent its best years with some other kid.

  “I can use your help at the Mission occasionally too,” Jenna said. “It’s our local food bank, but we also have clothing and some furniture and household items. Everything is free. But we need to keep track of who visits as well as the donations and orders from the larger area food bank in Abilene. Sometimes I get behind on the paperwork.”

  Sue glanced at Emily and smiled. “But our main need is for someone to be in charge of luncheons and teas at the museum. We rent half of the building for meetings, and sometimes they involve food of some kind. One of the older ladies in the Historical Society had the idea, and Emily ran with it.

  “Most of the time the food is prepared by our members, so we earn money for the museum. We’re averaging two meetings a month. We need someone to coordinate it all. Make sure we have people lined up to prepare the food, serve it, and clean up. We need someone to keep everything running smoothly.”

  “We’d been trying to handle it by committee,” added Emily, “but that didn’t always work out. We came close to having a couple of disasters. Sue and I have been doing it the last couple of months, but we both have plenty of other things to keep us busy.”

  Sue nodded. “It would be better to have one person in charge so nothing slips through the cracks, especially now while Emily is working on a grant proposal and developing some new displays. We’re guessing that your background working in restaurants would be helpful, as well as your real-estate experience. I have a friend who was a Realtor for a while, and she juggled a dozen things at once.”

  “That describes it pretty well.” Megan tried not to get too excited. She wanted to trust God and the Callahans in this, but nothing in her life had ever come easily. “I think I could do the things you’ve mentioned. It all sounds interesting, especially coordinating the luncheons and teas. That would be right up my alley and a lot of fun.”

  “What about making fancy desserts or decorating cakes for the luncheons?” asked Sue. “I apologize for snooping in your things, but Chance was so impressed by the photos of your wonderful creations that he showed them to us.” She grinned at her. “We were just as impressed.”

  “Thank you.” Megan returned her smile. “Of course, I only took pictures of the things that turned out well.” They laughed with her. “I would love to make the desserts. And for the family too, if Ramona won’t mind sharing the kitchen.”

  “I don’t think she’d mind a bit, other than fussing about you overdoing it. However, it might be best if you use the kitchen in the camp house when you’re cooking for the museum. That would give you plenty of room, and you wouldn’t have to compete with Ramona for the stove.”

  “Supervising the luncheons and doing the baking would be your primary job,” said Emily. “That may turn out to be all you do. If there isn’t much going on in the off weeks, then Jenna or I will have you help with the other things. But we don’t want you working too hard. If keeping the luncheons organized and doing the baking is too much, you can choose which one you’d prefer. We don’t do any actual cooking at the museum, so all the meals are made up of salads or sandwiches and dessert.”

  “You’re welcome to stay here with Dub and me and use the other house only for the desserts.” Sue met her gaze. “Or you can live there so you have a place of your own if you’d prefer that. You can check it out after Dalton leaves and decide then.

  “Even if you move, we’d like for you to join us for meals as often as you want. You’ll discover that all the family is here more times than not. And it will make it easier for the three of us to coordinate with you on your work schedule.”

  Jenna spoke up. “Since Will found you a car—”

  “What car?” Megan frowned. Why hadn’t Will said anything about it when they were looking at the van?

  “Oops.” Will’s sister made a face. “Guess I ruined his surprise. Some friends at church just bought a new SUV to haul their kids to all their sporting activities. Their other car is small and still in pretty good shape, but it wasn’t worth enough to bother with a trade-in. They were going to post a giveaway note on the bulletin board at church on Sunday. Will saw them in town this morning in their new ride and asked about the old one. When he learned they were going to give it away, he suggested they give it to you.”

  “The car is yours if you want it,” Sue said quietly. “Whether you stay here or leave. But I hope you’ll consider our offer before you make up your mind.”

  “We need to finish the details on the offer.” Jenna shifted on the couch so that she faced her more fully. “Two hundred dollars a week, with a maximum of fifteen hours work a week.”

  Megan blinked. That was a good wage for a part-time job, even in the city. For a rural area like Callahan Crossing, she suspected it was way over scale.

  “And medical insurance,” Emily added.

  Megan’s mouth fell open, but she quickly closed it. “Insurance too?”

  Sue’s eyes held a gleam of triumph. “We have a group policy for all of us and everyone who works for us. I talked to the insurance company this morning and confirmed that we can cover you and the baby, including the pregnancy.”

  “You must have some fantastic insurance.”

  “We do, and everyone who works for us has the same coverage.”

  She couldn’t believe everything they were offering her. Her choice o
f a place to live, a car, more money than the position was worth, and medical coverage.

  This time the tears that burned her eyes had nothing to do with hormones and everything to do with gratitude. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. You’ll return the favor in two weeks when you wow the Rainy Day Quilters with one of your desserts.” Emily uncurled her legs and propped her feet up on the coffee table. “That alone will bring us more bookings.”

  “Guess I’d better make sure it’s extra special.” Megan envied Emily’s bright pink toenails. She’d tried to paint hers last week, but she was no longer that flexible.

  The guys came wandering in with Zach leading the way. “The Rangers are losing.” He waved his arms dramatically. “Really bad.”

  “Ten to two in the ninth,” Will added, reclaiming his spot on the couch between his sister and Megan.

  “I’m ready for some of that peach cobbler you wouldn’t let us eat at supper.” Dub looked at Sue. “You want me to dish it up?”

  “I’ll do it.” Sue hopped up from the couch. “If I let you in there first, nobody else will get any.”

  “Now, sugar, you know I always leave enough for everybody else.”

  “Only if they use the itty-bitty bowls.”

  Jenna and Emily followed Sue into the kitchen. Megan started to join them, but Will stopped her by lightly resting his hand on her arm.

  “What do you think of their job offer?”

  “It’s too good to pass up and far too generous. But I’m thankful for it.”

  “Just don’t let them work you too hard.”

  “Do you honestly think they would?”

  “Not really. I have a feeling you might do it anyway.”

  “A year ago, but not now.” Sweet Baby gave her a good kick in agreement. Megan flinched, then tipped her head, looking up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me about the car earlier?”

  “I was afraid you’d pack up and leave before you knew what Mom and the girls had in mind.” He held her gaze. “This is a safe place for you, Megan.”

  Staring into those intense dark brown eyes, her mouth went dry. She wasn’t so sure about that.

  11

  On Sunday morning, Megan attended church for the first time. The family took up a whole row, with Megan right in the middle. As often happened when they were all together, she wound up with Will beside her.

  And people noticed. It didn’t seem to matter that she also sat next to Sue. Or maybe that made it worse. Some of the women were openly curious, their gazes flitting between the handsome cowboy and obviously pregnant her. Several of the younger ones watched them with a frown. She hoped a couple of them weren’t carrying guns.

  Within seconds, the whispers began. She’d spent her life being the object of gossip, and she supposed Will had too, for different reasons. Over the years, she’d learned to ignore it. But she couldn’t this time. The speculation was obvious, and it made her heart ache to know that they were imagining the worst about him.

  Women weren’t the only ones who stared. Several men did the old elbow nudge, but they weren’t looking at her with admiration. They were wondering if Will Callahan had gotten himself into trouble.

  Just as she was about to ask him to take her home, he calmly reached over and curled his hand around hers. “Don’t worry about them.”

  “I shouldn’t have come,” she murmured as a group walked up onto the wide platform at the front of the room. “Can’t you see what they’re thinking?”

  “Sure. Some are putting two and two together and coming up with five. Their human nature is showing, which is a real shame. But there will be more who will welcome you with no questions asked and no assumptions made.” He leaned a little closer, and she got a pleasant whiff of subtle aftershave. “I don’t care what people say about me, good or bad.” When she looked up at him in disbelief, he gave her an encouraging smile. “I do care what they might say about you. So Pastor Brad is going to set the record straight in a few minutes.”

  Megan fought down a wave of panic. What could the preacher know about her? How much would he reveal to the congregation? “What’s he going to say?”

  “That God saved you from the tornado, and that you’re going to be staying at the ranch for a while. Now relax and let God take care of you.”

  She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

  He gave her hand a light squeeze and released it. “Time to make a joyful noise.” The night before, they’d sat outside on the porch for a while, enjoying the cool of the evening. She’d confessed that she’d never gone to church before, so he gave her an idea of what to expect.

  When she looked back at the front, the musicians had taken their places. There were four men, three with guitars and one on the drums. One young woman was seated at the keyboard. Two other women, plus one of the guitar players, were the vocalists.

  The song leader strummed his guitar and called out, “Good morning!”

  At least fifty people shouted a greeting in return.

  “Everybody stand up and worship the Lord.”

  As everyone got to their feet, the band struck up a lively tune, and Megan blinked in surprise. She had assumed that the music and the congregation would be somber, like she’d seen in a few movies. But these people clapped their hands or tapped a foot, their faces alight with joy. She didn’t know the song, but the words were up on a big screen behind the musicians so she followed along. By the time they repeated the chorus for the third time, she had the music figured out and joined in.

  They sang another peppy song, but the rest were slower, more worshipful. On the last one, she closed her eyes and let the beautiful music and thankful praise to a holy God seep into her soul. When it was finished, she felt Will’s hand rest gently at the small of her back.

  “Are you all right?” he whispered.

  She nodded as they took their seats. “Better than all right,” she whispered back.

  His smile warmed her heart even more.

  A man stepped up in front of the podium, and Will leaned close again. “That’s Pastor Brad.”

  The minister had a relaxed, easy manner. He read a passage of Scripture, said a short prayer, mentioned a few announcements in the church bulletin, and welcomed the visitors in a general way.

  Then he looked at Megan and smiled. Her heart jumped to her throat, and heat flooded her face. “We’d like especially to welcome Megan Smith, who is sitting back there with the Callahans.” Even more heads turned this time as people stared at her. She hoped her smile didn’t appear as weak as it felt.

  “I expect most of you heard about the tornado that ripped through the ranch country south of here on Thursday and turned over a semi, injuring the driver. Megan was caught in that storm too, and rode out the tornado by lying in the bar ditch.”

  Hushed murmurs went around the room.

  “Her van was demolished by the hail and tornado. She was soaking wet and pretty beat up, but she took off up the road walking. I expect she was hoping there was a house nearby and somebody to help her.” His voice gentled even more. “You see, Megan is pregnant, so she not only had her own welfare to consider, but her baby’s too.

  “Instead of finding a house, she found the injured and trapped truck driver. She did what she could for him, then took off again to look for help. According to Will, she was really hoofin’ it up the road when he spotted her. She told him about the trucker, and they went back and stayed with him until the EMTs arrived. Only then did she let Will take her to the hospital to see about her own injuries and health.”

  Though she was embarrassed to be the center of attention and undeserving of his kind praise, she was relieved to see approval on the faces of many who twenty minutes earlier had been ready to condemn her because they jumped to conclusions.

  “But that’s not all of the story. You see, God worked a miracle to bring Megan to us.” He nodded, and someone dimmed the lights to more clearly reveal the picture up on the big screen—a clear spot
on the highway surrounded by debris.

  Megan gasped softly.

  “Chance took these pictures when he and Nate checked on her van. The indentation beside the road is where she was when the tornado passed right over her. That’s where Chance stood when he took the rest of the pictures, one in each direction.” The pastor slowly clicked through the remaining photos to show the destruction all around her.

  She was awed all over again.

  When he clicked back to a blank screen, the lights came up, and the minister bowed his head. Megan lowered her head since everyone else did too. “Father God, thank you for your mercy in saving both Megan and the truck driver. We ask that you bring complete healing to Mr. Bentley and allow him to go home to his family soon. Please continue to guide and bless Megan. Thank you for the opportunity to show her your love. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  Will leaned close to her ear and murmured, “Feel better now?”

  She nodded, whispering back, “Thank you.”

  During the sermon, she jotted down Scripture verses and what seemed to be important points on the blank space in the bulletin designated for notes. When she ran out of room and started writing in the margins on the inside, Will handed her his bulletin. She filled up the notes section on that one too.

  After the service, a crowd formed around them, with folks wanting to meet and welcome her. Even the two younger women who had been so obvious in their instant dislike changed their tune and joined in. They acted all sweet and concerned for a few minutes, until the tall, platinum blonde slyly asked the question on everyone’s mind. “Your husband must be so relieved that you and the baby are all right.”

  Megan felt Will tense beside her. Might as well get it out in the open. “I’m not married.” She glanced around the group, noting blinks of surprise, brows wrinkling in disapproval, and an unexpected number of concerned expressions.