Called To Love Page 3

  “So what else is new?” Cissy asked, reaching down to swing the little girl onto her hip. The boy instantly rushed forward, jealousy stamped on his freckled face.

  “Hold me, Cissy!”

  “Marky, I keep telling you, you’re too big,” his mother scolded.

  The boy drew back his foot, as if to kick Cissy into compliance. Without thinking, Gil reached out and caught the boy by the shoulders, sweeping him away.

  “Whoa, there!” Realizing only belatedly that his interference might not be appreciated, he adopted a friendly tone and asked, “Who do we have here?”

  Cissy made the necessary introductions. “This is Mark and his sister is Melly. Their mom is my cousin, Della.”

  After exchanging pleasantries with Della, Gil looked down at the boy he held trapped against his knees. “Man, I wish I had a baby sister.”

  Mark’s face registered astonishment. “Huh?”

  “Yeah. I only have brothers. Six of them. Sometimes my mom can’t even remember my name.” The boy’s eyes rounded. Gil managed not to chuckle. In truth, his mother often ran through a litany of names before she found the appropriate one, much to the amusement of Gil and his brothers. “Now, if I had sisters,” Gil went on, “I’d stand out. You know what I mean?”

  Comprehension dawned in the boy’s eyes. He turned his head to stare at his mom’s belly, exclaiming, “Ha! Another sister.”

  Gil mentally swiped his forehead in relief. His ploy could have backfired if Della had been carrying another boy. Mark suddenly pointed. Tearing away from Gil, he ran to greet Sally.

  Della wagged a finger at Gil. “Aren’t you the clever one? Where’d you get so smart about kids?”

  “Being the fifth of seven might have something to do with it,” Cissy put in with a chuckle.

  “What’s your secret, then?” Della asked. “You’re great with kids, and you’re an only child.” She narrowed her eyes, proclaiming, “The two of you would make excellent parents.”

  Gil’s chest suddenly tightened. He’d always intended to be a father someday, but he’d never given much thought to the mother of his children. He’d always figured she’d come along when the time was right. Why did he have to keep reminding himself that Cissy Locke had come along at the wrong time?

  Cissy’s mother arrived then, as if on cue. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say,” she grumbled. Turning to Gil, she demanded, “Don’t you think she’d be a wonderful mother?”

  “No question,” he answered honestly. “Cissy would make a wonderful mother, which is one reason she’ll be such a great director of the orphanage.”

  Sally glared at him before stomping off toward the church, Mark in tow. Della took Melly and followed. Cissy walked forward a single step then went up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  Gil couldn’t breathe again until she disappeared inside the church behind her mother and cousin.

  Chapter Twelve

  “That’s it.” Gil wiped his hands on a sturdy blue cloth. “I’ve done all I can without completely rebuilding the engine, which I don’t recommend because it would cost more than the car is worth.”

  “I understand,” Cissy said. “I cannot thank you enough for all you’ve done.” She patted the rusty fender of the old car. “It is enough that God has provided transportation. It doesn’t have to be more than basic.”

  “Basic is one thing,” Gil warned, “but reliable is another. Frankly, I’d feel better if you’d trade this clunker in for a newer vehicle. A truck would be handy for moving all those donated goods to Mexico.”

  A truck would be handy. But Cissy shook her head. “I can’t afford anything else.” She couldn’t even pay Gil for getting the old car running. The best she’d been able to give him was dinner every night, much to Sally’s delight. Her mother clung tenaciously to the belief that Gil Valenzuela could persuade Cissy to give up her plans to move to Mexico and run an orphanage there, but he didn’t even seem inclined to try.

  “I haven’t started dinner yet,” she said, changing the subject. “What would you like? Something special to celebrate?”

  “Sure,” Gil said, rolling down his shirtsleeves. “I hear there’s a real good restaurant over in Plainview. Why don’t we try it out?”

  Cissy fought past the thrill of possibly going on a date with Gil and shook her head. “Plainview is fifty miles away. It’ll be faster if I fix something here.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He flashed her a pointed smile. “I’m sure your mom would see it that way, too.”

  Cissy grimaced at the thought of sitting down at the table with Gil and her mother. It was bad enough that Sally watched avidly through the screen door every evening as Gil wolfed down his supper and Cissy kept him company. She could just imagine what her matchmaking mama would say and do if Gil came into the house to eat with them again. Besides, with only ten days to go before she had to leave, this might be her only chance to spend time alone with Gil, not to mention her only opportunity to thank him properly.

  “Can you give me a minute to change my clothes?” she asked, glancing down at herself.

  Gil chuckled. “You already look great, but go ahead and change. I’ll wait here.”

  Cissy blushed with pleasure as she ran into the house, her steps and her heart light. As she traded her ragged jeans for trim cropped pants and a matching blouse of turquoise cotton, she knew that she shouldn’t have given in and agreed to go with him, but she just couldn’t resist. Gil had helped her more than once, and she owed him for that. The least she could do was buy his dinner tonight. Maybe that would make it seem like less of a date.

  Somehow, though, she knew it wouldn’t be any easier on her heart.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After driving fifty miles to Plainview, Gil and Cissy were astounded to hear that the recommended restaurant had a wait time of ninety minutes. On a Monday night. Gil shared a look with Cissy. His empty stomach rumbled loudly, and they both laughed before taking themselves off to enjoy a dinner of hamburgers at a local fast food joint.

  Gil had never enjoyed a burger more. Cissy insisted on paying for the meal—even the milkshake that he chose for dessert and enjoyed on the drive back to Grasslands. Because she’d paid, the evening shouldn’t have felt like a date, but it did. In fact, it felt like a date that Gil didn’t want to end, which was why he wound up parking his old truck next to the green in the center of town so they could amble around the tree-dotted space beneath the spotty glow of decorative street lamps.

  Texas in late May could be uncomfortably hot, but this night was like velvet. Lush, warm and soft, it flowed around them as they strolled. Gil was struck again by his fondness for this place.

  “You’ve got to admit,” he said, “Grasslands is a great place to live.”

  “It is,” Cissy agreed, nodding. In the lamplight, her hair curled like a fiery nimbus about her head and shoulders. “I’ll miss Grasslands.”

  She would still go, though. Gil recalled the photos of the children at the orphanage and understood that she was called to Mexico. She would not shirk what was undoubtedly God’s will for her life. And yet…how could she move away from here?

  “I knew this was where I wanted to build my ranch as soon as I saw it,” he divulged. “I meant to head on south, but when I got here, I just couldn’t make myself go any farther, so I looked around and discovered that the Colbys were hiring.”

  “God brought you here,” Cissy remarked softly.

  “I think so,” Gil agreed. The idea made him sad, for if she belonged in Mexico and he belonged here, then they couldn’t possibly belong together, even though it felt as if they did. “Un enigma,” he whispered.

  “What’s that?”

  “Just something my grandfather used to say, that God’s ways are a mystery, a conundrum.”

  “Yes.” She bowed her head as they strolled along, then suddenly she spoke again. “You know, you could help me brush up on my Spanish. ¡He olvidado tanto!”

  Regretfully, he
shook his head. “My Spanish isn’t that good. I know some words and phrases, but that’s all.”

  Cissy looked stricken. “Oh. I thought… That is…”

  “My grandparents learned English soon after they came here from Colombia and used it in their daily lives. My mother knows more Spanish than I do. She picked it up from Dad, but he isn’t truly fluent, either. I—I could probably learn, but I wouldn’t be any help to you so far as practice goes.”

  “I’m sorry. I just assumed.”

  “Perfectly understandable. I just wish…” He shook his head. What he wished simply didn’t matter.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “The thing is,” Jeb said to Gil, rubbing the back of his neck, “we need shipping containers to get all this stuff from here to Mexico in good shape.”

  “We were hoping you could build them,” Cissy put in, making Gil smile.

  He hadn’t seen her in a full week, and every moment he’d ached with the knowledge that he might not see her again. Ever. Tearing his gaze away from her, he cleared his throat.

  “I could surely do that.”

  “Excellent!” the young minister said. “Some of the men are bringing up donated lumber now. We’ll pay you, of course.”

  Gil shook his head. “That’s not necessary.”

  Jeb beamed. “All right, so we’ll have the containers soon. Now, then. How are we going to get these goods to Mexico?”

  Gil looked over the small mountain of dry goods, and an idea occurred to him. “My old truck can still handle a heavy load, and I haven’t taken a day of vacation in a while. I could help with the transportation. Maybe the Colbys would lend us whatever trailers and vehicles they could spare.”

  Snapping his fingers, Jeb grinned. “A convoy. Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll go call Belle Colby.” He rushed from the crowded storage room, leaving Gil alone with Cissy.

  “Thank you,” she said, pitching her voice low. “I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.”

  “I was afraid of that, too,” he admitted, ridiculously happy in that moment. Maybe, somehow… She might not stay in Mexico forever. He could always visit. One thing was certain, though, and he said it aloud. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Oh, Gil.” She stepped forward to slip her arms about his waist. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  Their kiss seemed as natural as breathing but much more sustaining. He felt rejuvenated, as strong as Atlas, deeply touched. They stood there, locked together in their own world. The idea of being separated seemed impossible. Then Jeb’s exuberant voice called to them from the hallway.

  “It’s all settled!”

  Gil lifted his head, dropped his arms and stepped back, turning as the pastor came through the door.

  “The Colbys have promised to provide all the transportation we need, right up to and including an eighteen-wheeler.”

  “I don’t think we’ll have to go quite that far,” Cissy said with a chuckle.

  Jeb clapped his hands together. “All right, what’s next. We still have plenty to do before Friday.”

  Friday. The day Cissy left.

  Gil’s spirits abruptly plummeted.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The hours passed in a blur of activity. While Gil hammered together a quartet of containers, Jeb lined up volunteer drivers and Cissy planned what would be packed into each container. When Gil realized that she intended to pack by category—foodstuffs in one unit; bedding and clothes in another; media, toys and electronics together and housekeeping supplies on their own—he gently pointed out that it would be best to try to distribute the weight evenly among the containers. Otherwise, one or more of the containers would wind up too heavy to be loaded by hand. Also, some of the goods needed cushioning, and the bedding and clothing would work well for that.

  Cissy quickly saw the wisdom in his suggestion. Working together, they weighed the various donated materials then made packing lists. Next, they made sure that each load would fit into its container. Finally, they unpacked everything until the containers could be loaded onto the borrowed trucks and trailers just prior to leaving. It was a big task, but they managed it together.

  “I couldn’t have done this without you,” Cissy said to Gil.

  Pleased, he shrugged. “Just common sense.”

  “Which isn’t as common as you’d think it would be,” she quipped.

  Chuckling, he taped a packing list to the side of a container surrounded by its intended contents. “You know, it occurs to me that you could use these shipping containers as storage when you get to the orphanage.”

  “What a wonderful idea!” she exclaimed.

  “Tell you what, I’ll pick up some hinges so the ends of the crates can be used as doors. It would be best to set the containers on concrete blocks so the wood floors won’t rot. If your maintenance man needs help getting the containers up onto the blocks, he can always use a car jack to—”

  She interrupted him with a laugh. “Maintenance man? We don’t have a maintenance man. We don’t have a man, period.”

  He blinked at that. “You mean the entire staff is made up of women?”

  “That’s right. Me and three live-in teachers.”

  “With how many kids?”

  “It fluctuates between ninety and a hundred. Right now it’s—”

  His jaw dropped. “Four women with a hundred kids!”

  “The doctor that comes out twice a month is male,” she offered meekly. “And we get volunteers in the summer and at spring break. We save up the maintenance issues until then.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. Four women. A hundred kids. No wonder her mother was worried!

  “What do you do if you have an emergency?”

  “We call for help. The orphanage has cell service and radios. When Pastor Arlen established the orphanage more than thirty years ago, they had neither. In fact, the radios were his legacy to the organization, purchased with what little funds he left in his will.”

  Gil forced down his misgivings. “I guess you know what you’re doing.”

  “Not always,” she admitted, waving a hand at their surroundings. “But I do trust that God knows what He’s doing.”

  “I don’t doubt that God provides,” Gil began.

  “You shouldn’t,” she said quickly. “He provided you, after all.”

  Gil wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he said nothing. Perhaps God had provided him to help her get her car running and her shipping containers built and properly packed, but who had God provided to help with all the countless other problems that he could so easily foresee? It couldn’t be him.

  Could it?

  Chapter Sixteen

  By Tuesday evening, Cissy was utterly drained. She sat on her bed in the room where she’d grown up, picturing the changes that it had gone through, from toy-strewn to poster-plastered to its current understated femininity. When she’d returned from college, she had painted the walls a delicate plum, purchased a flowered bedspread and dug out curtains, now faded to pale pink, embroidered by her late grandmother. She would take none of these bits of home with her to Mexico, though. Instead, she would build a new home around the woman she would become there.

  She wondered if that woman would think of Gil Valenzuela as often as she did now. The handy cowboy with his dark good looks was never far from her mind. His support buoyed and strengthened her as no one else’s did. When she was with Gil, she knew that she was doing the right thing in going to Mexico. When she was away from Gil, she wondered how she could ever leave him.

  Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Oh, Father, give me strength and wisdom to perform Your will.”

  She went on praying earnestly for God’s guidance until a tap came at her bedroom door. Wiping away tears that she hadn’t even realized were falling, Cissy ended her prayer and bade her mother enter. Sally looked at Cissy, and her face softened, but then she moved to stand by the window.

  Then Sally suddenly crumpled. “You’re really going!” she blubber
ed. “I always knew you would.”

  “Oh, Mom.” Cissy got up and went to her mother. “Don’t you see? I cannot refuse to obey God. Remember what happened to Jonah.”

  Sally sniffed and tossed her head. “Afraid of getting swallowed by a fish, are you?”

  Cissy felt great relief at the glimmer of a smile on her mother’s face. “I love you, Mama.”

  “I love you, too. So much!” Sally wailed. “But you’re leaving in just a few days, and I’ve made the past weeks so difficult,” Sally admitted. “I’m sorry. Especially about throwing Gil at you. That wasn’t fair.”

  “No, no,” Cissy soothed. “He’s become a good friend and a great help.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Sally’s chin wobbled. “All the same, I won’t see you every day.”

  “We’ll see each other at least as often as we did when I was in college.”

  “Which wasn’t very often.”

  “You can always come to Mexico,” Cissy pointed out.

  Sally frowned. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?”

  Cissy answered her with a hug. God truly did have everything under control. Reminded of Gil again, Cissy promised herself that she would hold on tight to the promise of God’s provision.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Did you hear about Chavin?” the cowboy asked, coming through the bunkhouse door.

  Gil tore his gaze away from the TV news program. Lately, he’d been hearing one report after another about violence in Mexico, and he couldn’t help worrying about Cissy. He’d decided he would visit the orphanage frequently. She was bound to need his help, and he would be happy to give it, but that just didn’t seem like enough. He’d begun to wonder what would be enough where Cissy Locke was concerned.

  “Who’s Chavin?” he asked distractedly.