Lone Star Blessings. Bonnie K. Winn

going to church.” His no-nonsense tone of voice was one she remembered from earlier years.

      “We’ll have to clear it with your doctor…” Kate tried to imagine the logistics of getting him out so soon.

      “The church has a van that’s equipped with a lift,” Emma informed them. “We use it for the school as well.”

      “The church is only three blocks away,” Marvin interrupted. “What do you say, Kate? We can walk that far.”

      Roll, you mean.

      He looked too hopeful to refuse. “I suppose.”

      Emma clapped her hands together. “Wonderful! I’ll send the materials for the lesson over with Seth, so you can have plenty of time to get ready. I’m so pleased!”

      She hadn’t meant that she agreed to teach. Kate looked at Emma, then at her father. Their faces were beaming. His was the brightest it had been since his fall.

      Fait accompli. She hadn’t attended church in at least five years, and she’d just signed up to teach Sunday school. Sunday school!

      Tucker filled a bowl with some of the oatmeal Alyssa had insisted on making for him. Since it was Sunday, he decided he could forego his routine of only black coffee.

      These days, he rarely awoke with an appetite. As a kid, he loved Sunday breakfasts. His mother always made something special—French toast or waffles. And Shelley had done much the same.

      Alyssa hadn’t forgotten about her expanded shopping list. They’d resupplied the pantry and filled the refrigerator. He still didn’t want his daughter doing so much, but his workdays hadn’t shortened yet.

      “Dad?” Alyssa bounced into the kitchen.

      “I’m eating the oatmeal.”

      “Good.” She stubbed the toes of her shoes against the wooden floor, first one foot, then the other. “Um…I was wondering if you’d go to church with me.”

      He pulled his eyebrows together, his forehead wrinkling. “You know I don’t go to church anymore.” Not since Shelley died.

      She fiddled with the top rung on one of the chairs. “But today’s special. I’m getting a new Sunday school teacher.”

      Tucker released the spoon, allowing it to slide into the warm cereal. “Lissy, I want you to be happy, but…” All the unanswered prayers he’d said for Shelley floated before him, reminding him of the bitter result.

      She swallowed, her face downcast. “I just thought, you know, how we have a picnic lunch after…and…it’s families…”

      Tucker’s clenched jaw twitched. “You can sit with your friends.”

      Alyssa shrugged halfheartedly. “Yeah. I guess.”

      He’d never intended to deny her anything. She was the most important thing in his life. But the betrayal he felt was so deep, still so raw…. Initially, he’d wanted to forbid her from attending church. But he could picture Shelley’s disappointed face, and he hadn’t been able to take that final, irreversible step. “Come here, Pop-tart.”

      Her feet dragged as she walked around the table toward him.

      He hugged her, wishing it could be different, wishing everything hadn’t gone so terribly wrong. “I love you, Lissy.”

      Hugging back, she sniffled. “Me, too.”

      “Tell you what. I’ll walk with you to church, or drive if you want.”

      “Walk,” she decided, still looking unhappy, tearing at his heart.

      He shoved the uneaten oatmeal aside. “How ’bout if I come back when church is out, share the picnic with you?”

      Her face transformed in an instant, and she grabbed his neck in a fierce hug. “Thanks, Dad.”

      His heart constricted as he hugged her back. “Okay, scoot. We have to get ready.” Even though he didn’t intend to enter the church building, his years of being a member mandated he dress appropriately.

      It didn’t take him long to change into a suit. Straightening his tie, he stared hard in the mirror, his voice barely audible. “Just so you know, Lord, this is for Lissy, not me.”

      The clatter of Alyssa’s shoes on the wood floor made him spin around and walk back into the kitchen. “You ready?”

      “Yeah.” She grabbed her bible from the counter. “When Grandma called, she said they’re going to California on vacation, but she’ll call you before they leave.” Shelley’s parents lived in Dallas, but they kept in touch by phone and regular visits, and the Sunday morning phone call had become a ritual.

      “Grandpa got his way, huh?” He smiled as the screen door banged closed behind them. “A fishing trip?”

      “Grandma didn’t seem to mind.” Alyssa hopped down the front steps.

      Their neighborhood was one of the oldest in Rosewood, and Main Street was barely six blocks over. Since Rosewood had been settled in the nineteenth century, many of the houses were Victorian. Not being a planned community, small houses often flanked larger, more ornate ones. The oak and elm trees were old, tall and broad, lining the streets and sidewalks. As they walked the few blocks toward church, the scent of late-blooming roses infused the air. Most of the century-old bushes should have been long dormant, but the mild Hill Country weather allowed a long season.

      Tucker and Alyssa weren’t the only ones walking to church. Most of their neighbors chose to leave their cars home on clear Sundays. They’d covered one block when Alyssa tugged on his sleeve. “Look, Dad.”

      Some woman was trying to back over the stone curb with a man in a wheelchair. He had only a rear view of them, but he could see they were having trouble. Tucker hastened his gait. “Whoa! Let me give you a hand.”

      The woman muttered something that he couldn’t quite make out. When he reached them, she turned her head. It was her.

      “I’ll ease the chair over the curb, if you’ll watch the leg rests,” Tucker offered.

      “Thank you.” Kate gritted the words out through clenched teeth as she tugged on the handles again, making no progress. “It seems stuck.”

      She was as cordial as he remembered. Having seen her at the hospital, he assumed she must be some sort of health worker—which made sense, seeing her now.

      Once the chair cleared the curb, Tucker turned it toward the church. “I’m guessing you’re headed this way.”

      “Thanks.” The older man sounded greatly relieved. “I’m Marvin Lambert.”

      “Tucker Grey.” He extended his hand, surprised by the strong shake from the older man. “And, this is my daughter, Alyssa. I don’t think I’ve met you.”

      Alyssa waved at them both.

      “I retired here about a year and a half ago.” Marvin gestured to the chair. “And, I’m not getting out as much these days.” He pointed to the woman. “This is my daughter, Kate.”

      The name clicked and he made the connection. Nodding to her, Tucker grasped the handles of the chair. “I recommend you stay on the street side instead of the sidewalk, sir.”

      “Marvin.”

      “Agreed.” Tucker ignored Kate’s startled expression as he took charge of the wheelchair. “We don’t have those updated sidewalks where the curb slopes down at the end of each block. But the street’s safe enough. The kids ride their bikes on this one all the time.”

      Kate looked anxious. “I didn’t think about the curbs when we started this adventure.”

      “At the church you can roll right up the driveway,” Alyssa added helpfully, falling into step beside Kate.

      “I’m