Page 25 of Sheltering Lawson
“All right, but let’s take our time and browse the booths first. Can you agree that you deserve at least another half an hour off for today?”
She gave me a winsome smile. I rose and offered her my hand. For a moment she looked up at me, the sun making her hair look like spun gold, her blue eyes incandescent. “You have this way of reminding me that there’s a life beyond work. I used to know that, but the last year has sucked me dry.”
She looked immediately away as if she’d said something she shouldn’t. I wanted to question her in-depth, but with only a short time left between now and getting her back to Brax’s booth it wasn’t enough time. I needed to sit down and talk to her, but again I was torn. If I pushed her would she bolt? If I didn’t push her would I regret it, and she would leave anyway without telling me what was going on with her? Obviously, if she wanted to confide in me, she would have. What was holding her back? We had made a connection. Of that, I was sure. So, what would it take to get her to open up? I decided that it would take patience, time for her to feel secure, not only in me, but in Suttontowne. She’d already made friends. I’d give her a little bit more time.
“Maybe you should reassess your life, Lawson. Think about what you want out of it and make new goals?” Staying neutral, I kept my hand outstretched. She jerked her head up. With the same kind of dazed look she’d given me before, she took a breath, then looked at my hand. Slowly, but deliberately, she placed her hand in mine. It felt like a breakthrough, a promise.
I closed my fingers around hers, anchoring her as she rose. Together we picked up our own mess and deposited everything in the trash.
My heart turned over when she grabbed my hand on her own, and with my heart beating just a bit faster, we started toward the booths. As we approached a furniture maker, I heard, “Ethan.”
I turned to find my daddy heading toward us. His face had a pleasant smile on it until he spied something, then he frowned for a moment. When he finally caught up to us, he said, “Hello, son, Lawson. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Hello, Reverend Fairchild.”
“What brings you to the craft festival?” I asked.
“Your momma’s around here somewhere. She wants to find a furniture maker with a mind to get new pews. There’s one here she’d like to connect with on a personal basis. We find it’s most effective to get the church the best price.”
“She is good at that.”
“She is.”
“What brings you here,” he asked.
“I’m manning Outlaw’s booth,” Lawson said with a smile.
When he looked at me, he frowned, and I realized it was me who had caused him to look so intent. “I volunteered to help the Sheriff’s Office with crowd control.”
“He is very good at that. He’s already subdued a guy who was drunk and disorderly and at the beginning of the week, a thief who was threatening me with a gun and demanding money.”
Instead of the obvious reaction anyone would have expected from Lawson’s blatant pride in relating my story to my parent, my daddy’s face only scrunched up tighter. “Violence in any form is abhorrent,” he said. “I understand there’s a need in this world for people to combat violence, but there is also, and I daresay, a bigger and more pressing need for people who guide and are an inspiration to everyone. We need more leaders like that.”
He was being subtle, reminding me that I had a bigger role to fill in preaching. It was the age-old argument between us. I wasn’t sure it was my calling, and so far in my life, I had done everything in my power to avoid dealing with it. My daddy’s patience was drawing to an end. I couldn’t argue with him about my path in life. It was meandering. I wasn’t committed either to the bait and tackle or the bartending, but surfed along doing both when it suited me. Maybe that wasn’t fair to either Brax or Chase. But my path had seemed to elude me until just recently. I had thought a little about becoming a deputy sheriff, especially after I had subdued that robber in the bar, but dismissed it. It would be a tough personal decision as my daddy just stated how much he hated violence. When I’d gone into the Marines, he’d been livid. Risking my life for my country took away from my duty to preach the word of the Lord. My daddy had a narrow way of looking at my choices. Was I butting up against that and trying to make my own?
Was it my responsibility to make him happy? Give up any dreams I might have to a larger cause? Did I feel that calling strong enough?
Questions I had been asking myself for a decade, and I wasn’t closer to any type of answer.
“Do you understand what I’m talking about, Ethan?”
“I got you loud and clear, Daddy,” I said. Itwasloud and clear. He didn’t want me going into law enforcement, plain and simple. At least it was for him.
For me? It was a deeper question, a deeper issue and until I figured it all out, I wouldn’t have my final answer. I wasn’t going to be pushed or shoved into the seminary like he’d tried to do in my formative years and then hardcore when I’d turned eighteen. I felt as beleaguered now as I did then.
But I was a Marine, tempered in battle and a man with my own mind and heart. I would let both lead me to the final destination. Until then, I would continue to stall him.
Chapter 9
LAWSON
The undercurrent of disapproval wasn’t lost on me, and my decision to keep our relationship at arm’s length had just been reinforced. It was why I had gone out of my way to avoid him after our bayou trip. It was getting harder and harder to think about leaving. But, his father abhorred violence and that’s what I would bring into his son’s life. It drove my reasoning home, even as my heart twisted. What other reason would I need to remain true to my path? A few more weeks of this increased income and I would be on my way.
That twisted my heart even harder. This was such a beautiful, peaceful place with such nice people who had welcomed me more warmly than I had ever felt in my life. I’d already made friends with Samantha and Skylar, Braxton was the best boss ever, even with his grumpy attitude hiding his good and generous heart and Ethan…oh God, how could I even put that gorgeous, kind man into any kind of category? Every time I heard his voice or was around him, I would get this frantic flutter of hope—that I could change my future.
That’s why I’d contacted a ranch in Texas and inquired about the cooking job. They were interested even with my myriad of jobs. It was a plus that the job came with room and board as well. I could lose myself in the wide-open range, make another name change that would give me back my freedom even while it consumed my identity. I made the move that would end it all. I agreed to be there in a month with enough time to get training from the current, outgoing cook.
Yet even as I felt the reluctance to go, I remembered what had happened to my friend Anna. With a heavy sensation clogging my chest, I knew what they were capable of and that they would stop at nothing to get me back. I simply had no choice. Angry all of a sudden, my insides shriveled up. With this turn of events, it made my departure more definite, more real, and I had to swallow around the lump in my throat. I watched as Ethan tracked his daddy’s progress across the square and then disappeared into the crowd. His face said it all. He was struggling with something, and I was sure it had everything to do with what had just happened.
