Starting Over at Trevino Ranch
Author
Amy Woods
Reads
17.9K
Chapters
14
Chapter One
“Dad would for sure disown me if he saw what I’m doing right now,” Gina Heron muttered under her breath as she scrolled down the page on her laptop screen. She must have started and abandoned the application for unemployment benefits at least ten times since breakfast, and she still couldn’t seem to manage looking at it for more than a few minutes at a time without that familiar queasiness kicking up again.
“Well,” Gina’s sister, Sophie, responded from her spot facing a nearby bookshelf, where she’d been organizing new travel titles for the last half hour. “Dad’s not here, is he? So, I wouldn’t worry too much about him judging you.” Her tone was gentle.
“I know, I know,” Gina said, rubbing her temples as she released a sigh. “But he always chided us to ‘never take a handout’ and in my head I’ve got a track on repeat of him saying, ‘when things get hard, you’ve got to pull yourself up by your bootstraps.’” She crossed her arms for emphasis, just like Dad would have done.
Sophie put down the book she’d been holding and moved behind Gina, wrapping her arms around her sister’s shoulders. “To that I would say, it’s pretty damn hard to pull them up when you don’t have any straps to speak of...not to mention boots.”
Gina giggled softly, thankful for her older sibling’s steadfast sense of humor.
“Besides,” Sophie continued, squeezing Gina’s shoulders before heading back to her work, “it’s not a handout. It’s your tax money, there for a rainy day when you need it.” She picked up the next book from a box near her feet, briefly studying the cover. “And goodness knows you’ve had plenty of storms recently.” Sophie paused. “I just wish I could afford to hire you myself. It would be so nice to have you working here with me—” she turned and gave Gina an apologetic look “—for actual pay, I mean.”
Gina closed the laptop with a little more force than was probably necessary, earning a sideways glance from a customer browsing the shelf closest to her.
That was enough for one day. The application wasn’t going anywhere, so she could continue staring at it tomorrow, hoping for some magic to happen so she wouldn’t actually have to go through with completing it. Her sister was right, of course, and in her heart Gina knew she had no reason to feel ashamed for needing a little help until she got back on her feet, but a piece of her didn’t want to admit defeat. Until she actually hit Submit, Gina could keep pretending that her life hadn’t suddenly erupted into a total mess.
Standing up to stretch, she glanced out the front window of Sophie’s small-town Texas bookshop, Peach Leaf Pages. Late afternoon sun washed over the sidewalk, and passersby, clad in T-shirts and shorts for the warm spring day, carried to-go cups of tea and coffee and brown paper bags of goodies from the café next door as they browsed the decorated storefronts along Main Street. A vanilla latte sounded perfect, but Gina cleared all thoughts of delicious hypothetical treats from her mind as she headed to Sophie’s closet-sized office in the back to use her sister’s one-cup coffee maker instead, visions of dwindling bank account balances dancing in her head.
Today marked one month since Gina’s latest teaching contract had ended, and she had yet to land another offer.
Since graduating with her master’s over a decade ago, she had moved seamlessly from one teaching position to the next. Specializing in English as a Second Language instruction for professional adults, her skill set had always been in demand overseas, and she had never struggled to find work. She’d spent many happy years bouncing across Asia, enjoying the incredible people, food and cultures she encountered each time she took a new contract, all the while promising herself she’d find a more permanent position and settle down one day in the distant future.
She had never imagined that the timing wouldn’t be her choice, that she’d be forced to stop moving against her will, before she was ready. But it seemed as though all of her colleagues with the placement agency had already found new positions or had chosen favorite locations to build lives. Meanwhile, Gina was stuck in her small hometown, treading water while her savings, and the little extra money she brought in from her tiny, word-of-mouth upholstery repair business, continued to decrease at an alarming rate.
Gina shook her head to clear away regret over a reality that no longer existed. She could keep her head in the clouds all day, but where would that get her? There was only one way to look at it now: at thirty-six, she would have to start all over again, and, having already achieved and lost her dream job, she had no idea how to do such a thing, or where to even begin. As thankful as she was that Sophie had been eager and happy to share her tiny space with her younger sister, Gina yearned desperately to regain her self-sufficiency.
“Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry to hear that.”
Gina turned abruptly at the worry in her sister’s voice. A woman in her midsixties with cropped salt-and-pepper hair, sporting a stiff-looking back brace, grimaced in obvious pain as she spoke with Sophie, urgent tension in her voice.
“It’s okay,” the woman said, glancing woefully toward the children’s section. “I’ll heal in time, but I don’t think I can sit through the reading today. I hate to leave you in the lurch like this, but I’ve got to get home and lie down. I’m due for meds soon and, until things get better, I’m having to take them like clockwork.”
“Of course, Noreen,” Sophie said, her words soothing as she followed the woman to the front of the store. “You should have just called, you poor thing. I would never have asked you to come in if I’d known you were in this condition. Dan must be worried sick.”
Noreen waved a hand in dismissal. “Oh, he knows I’m a tough old bird. My back gives out every once in a while, so we know the ropes by now. The trouble is, I never know what’s going to set the darn thing off. It’ll be good as new before you know it, and I’ll be back reading to the little ones.”
“They’ll miss you big time,” Sophie said, holding the door open for the injured woman, who walked stiffly through, waving toward a sedan parked on the street just outside. The man in the vehicle—presumably her husband—got out of the driver’s side and moved quickly to help his wife.
“There’s Dan now,” Noreen said. “Take care. My apologies again,” she added with warm sincerity, hands clasped in front of her midsection. “I hope you can find somebody to take over.”
“Oh, don’t worry about us,” Sophie called, smiling as Dan rushed over to take Noreen’s hand. “You just concentrate on getting well.”
As the couple got settled in their car and drove off, Sophie waved goodbye and closed the front door, setting off a pleasant chime of bells. She leaned against the solid oak and closed her eyes, pulling in a deep breath as if to center herself.
“They seem sweet,” Gina mused, watching the car go.
“Yeah,” Sophie agreed, opening her eyes as she stood upright again. “They’ve been inseparable since they were kids.”
A little shard of pain sliced through Gina. She had known a love like that once, long ago. Or at least she’d thought she had.
It became clear that Sophie’s attempt to relieve her tension hadn’t worked. She glanced in the distance over Gina’s shoulder and bit her lip, worry filling her light brown eyes. Gina followed her gaze to the children’s corner, a sweet alcove tucked in the space between two tall, blue-painted shelves full of picture and chapter books, adorned with cozy pillows, colorful carpet squares and sparkling strings of fairy lights.
“What’s the matter?” Gina asked.
“Noreen was our children’s reading hour volunteer.” Sophie swallowed hard and looked down at her watch.
“So, you’ll find another volunteer,” Gina suggested. “Surely you’ve got a backup.” But, as they’d been talking, Gina noticed that a few kids had started gathering on the carpets, their parents taking seats in a row of chairs set up just behind.
Sophie’s head was moving slowly back and forth, and her teeth were making such a dent in her bottom lip that Gina worried she’d soon draw blood.
“So, I’m guessing...you don’t have anyone else who can do it?”
“That’s right,” Sophie said, planting a hand against her forehead. “It’s one of the million things on my to-do list that I keep thinking someday I’ll have time for. Until you came to help out, it was about as long as Main Street, and it’s getting shorter, but...”
“But you had a regular volunteer so that item wasn’t at the top,” Gina said, filling in with a growing sense of apprehension. She had an idea where this was going.
Sophie dove right in. “Come on, Gina, please?” She pulled up prayer hands in front of her pleading face.
“Um,” Gina said, closing her own eyes so she wouldn’t fall victim to her sister’s huge, pleading, abandoned baby bunny ones, “I don’t think I’m the right person for the job. You know I don’t have much experience around kids.” She swallowed anxiously.
“Please,” Sophie said, the strain in her voice tugging hard at Gina’s heartstrings. “You’re a teacher, though. That’s close enough, right?”
Gina stopped and dug in her heels, facing her sister as she steeled herself to be as firm as possible. “I teach business ESL to adults. Not exactly the same thing.” She pulled her shoulders back, eyes darting about the shop as she desperately avoided meeting her sister’s. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’ve got another round of job applications to fill out.”
Sophie’s expression softened. “Look. I know this is a little out of your wheelhouse. I wouldn’t ask, but the kids are already here, and they’ll be so disappointed if I cancel story hour.”
Gina scanned the group of small humans as she considered her sister’s request.
“Gina?” Sophie said quietly, reaching out to grasp her sister’s arm.
“What?”
“It’s just...you look nervous,” Sophie said, a hint of a giggle in her voice. “They’re just children,” she soothed. “They won’t bite.”
“You cannot guarantee that,” Gina argued.
Sophie grimaced. “Well, you’re right about that. But I can say they’ve never bitten Noreen, and that’s something, right?”
Yeah, she looks sweet and all, but my sister can be pretty conniving, Gina thought.
Sophie assumed a serious expression and continued, “We’re running out of time here, so are you going to help me or not? And, before you answer, remember whose couch you slept on last night.”
Gina’s mouth opened wide and her eyes narrowed. “Oh, that’s low, Soph,” she chided, clicking her tongue, even as she silently prepared to give in to the inevitable. She knew she couldn’t leave her sister like this, not when there was a crowd gathered already and parents were starting to check the time impatiently.
Gina knew Sophie had put her heart, soul and years of saved-up dollars into her bookstore, and she’d worked her butt off to get it off the ground, even as nearly everyone around her said that brick-and-mortar book sales were a thing of the past. As she watched Sophie wring her hands, Gina knew what she had to do, and dammit she would do it.
“Fine,” she said, her insides melting as Sophie’s face lit up with gratitude, her pale cheeks regaining the color they’d lost. “But you owe me.”
Sophie started to speak, probably to remind Gina again about the couch and the free roof over her head, but Gina stopped her.
“You owe me.” She rolled her shoulders a few times and cracked her knuckles, preparing for the lions’ den. “Two margaritas as soon as we close up. No negotiations. Take the deal or I’ll walk.” Gina fixed a steely gaze on her sister.
Sophie’s lips trembled as though she might laugh. The nerve.
“I mean... I won’t walk far, but, you know...back to the office to work on the books or something,” Gina said, afraid she’d been a tad too harsh.
Only a tad, though.
“Deal,” Sophie said, holding out her hand.
Gina shook it, very reluctantly, glaring additional death rays at her only sibling.
“Wonderful. Thank you so much!” Sophie bounced up and down. “By the way, the book is on the big chair in front of the kids.” She snorted. “You’ll be reading, Tomorrow I’ll be Brave, by Jessica Hische.”
A favorite of her sister’s, Gina knew the book well, and the pertinence of its title, as well as the book’s message that it’s okay to be scared when trying new things, did not escape her. With a deep breath, she crossed her fingers and hoped she could live up to it.
No matter how hard he tried, Alex Trevino seemed doomed to fail when it came to getting his niece and nephew to their various activities on time.
He’d always taken pride in being early to events and appointments. As his abuelo taught him growing up: “on time equals late, and early equals on time”—advice he took seriously and continued to live by, and that had served him well for all of his thirty-seven years. Advice that seemed impossible to live up to when it came to kids.
His heart softened as he glanced in the rearview mirror at ten-year-old Eddie and six-year-old Carmen, wondering how it could possibly have taken so long to get them into his pickup. There must be some sort of time vortex when it came to children; it took twice as long to get them to accomplish anything as you thought it would, and even if you started getting ready early, the extra time somehow didn’t add up the way it should, as if each minute flew by in only thirty seconds.
He must have made himself chuckle because Eddie asked, “What’s so funny, Uncle Alex?”
Seeing no other vehicles on the sleepy ranch road, Alex turned quickly to smile at his nephew. The little boy had inherited the Trevino family’s dark hair and eyes, and his mother’s endearing dimples. “Oh, nothing much, bud.” Alex turned back to face the road. “Are you guys excited about story hour?” he asked hopefully. He would do anything in his power to cheer them up these days.
“Meh,” Eddie responded. “Story hour is for little kids, but I’ll go because Carmen needs me to look out for her.”
At this declaration, a lump formed in Alex’s throat. It was a tender sentiment from a protective big brother, even if it was only half true. He knew for a fact that Eddie, an avid reader since age five, absolutely loved story hour, and really, any story he could hear, see, or get his hands on. That kid was going to become some kind of writer when he grew up. Alex would bet his family’s ranch on it. On top of that, Eddie was just an all-around good kid, who had put his whole heart into looking after his little sister since their parents—Alex’s older brother and sister-in-law—had lost their lives in a plane crash the year before.
Becoming Eddie and Carmen’s guardian had been a whirlwind of lawyers, documents and packing up their things to move in with him, the tasks providing an escape from his own grief. Having gone from bachelor to caregiver overnight, Alex hadn’t had a chance to deal with his own pain, and, while he’d been thankful for the distraction at the time, some days he wondered if he should spend some time finally processing everything that had happened, maybe even get some counseling...if he could ever find a spare moment.
Alex turned onto Main Street and located a parking spot near Peach Leaf Pages, then got out to help the kids from the back seat, taking a small hand in each of his. As the bell on the shop door chimed, announcing their arrival, Alex quickly noted that the children’s area was already full, and the other kids were fully engrossed in the story.
So much for sneaking in without disruption.
He knew he shouldn’t be surprised. Noreen Connelly, retired sixth-grade teacher—his, actually—was a stickler for punctuality, even when she wasn’t on the clock, which meant this marked their third week of making a far more conspicuous entrance than he would have liked.
Oh well, Alex thought, guiding Eddie and Carmen toward the reading circle, hoping there was still a spot left for each of them. Not much could be done about it now. As much as he’d like to, he couldn’t turn back time any more than Cher could.
“Okay, guys,” he said softly. “Let’s be as quiet as possible so we don’t interrupt the story.”
He gently squeezed each child’s hand and led the way.
“But how will we know what’s going on?” Eddie asked quietly, mild frustration in his voice. “The new lady’s already started reading.”
“Yeah!” agreed Carmen, much, much less quietly than her brother, prompting an aggravated “Shhh!” from someone in the group.
Probably Kenneth, resident taskmaster. Aged five. Relentless enforcer of story hour etiquette, with a disapproving scowl that burned all the way to your toes.
Alex briefly closed his eyes, drawing in a breath. Okay, so maybe they needed to spend a little more time working on inside voices, at least before his niece started kindergarten the following year. He was definitely in support of a woman with a strong voice who knew how to use it...just...maybe not during story time.
“Carmen, sweetheart, let’s try to whisper,” Alex said, demonstrating. “And, Eddie, it’s okay. We’re only a few minutes behind. I’m sure you’ll be able to catch up on the plot in no time.”
He got his two settled with the other kids and moved farther back to find a seat among the other parents and guardians, who, thankfully, adjusted knees and purses to let him pass, probably having been in his shoes before. Maybe not as often as he had, but still.
Smiling gratefully, Alex finally slid into a chair of his own, just as something Eddie had said before caught his attention.
What new lady?
Noreen had been the only story hour volunteer every time Alex had brought Eddie and Carmen for the past several months, and as far as he knew, she had no desire to give up her position. The kids adored Mrs. Connelly. She did all the voices in the books, was so animated that Alex was certain she could have had an Oscar-worthy acting career if the teaching hadn’t worked out, and she even used props and wore homemade, highly accurate character costumes. Likely there weren’t many people lining up to take Noreen’s place in the high energy, paycheckless endeavor. Plus kids that age were a tough crowd. Alex was pretty sure they could smell fear, and probably parental inadequacy too, which he had plenty of.
Taking guardianship of Eddie and Carmen had been an easy choice; he loved his niece and nephew and it was simply the right thing to do. He’d been in their lives from infancy, spending time with them at family events, never missing a single birthday or milestone, and babysitting when his brother and sister-in-law went on anniversary trips. Taking care of Eddie and Carmen, on the other hand...nothing had ever been more challenging.
Having wanted his own kids someday, Alex had never been naive enough to think that parenting would be an easy job, but he hadn’t even remotely grasped how utterly big it was. Not just the day-to-day tasks involved in keeping two small humans alive, dressed and fed, and getting them to the places they needed to go, but the deeper stuff. The questions he couldn’t answer. The philosophies he hadn’t yet considered about how best to develop these two into good people, good citizens, good stewards of their gifts and resources who cared for their community and planet and...it was a lot.
He wasn’t prepared, and he was slowly beginning to understand that maybe nobody was. Maybe nobody could be, not fully anyway.
In the meantime, he did the only thing he knew, which was to give his best moment by moment and hope it added up to something that would serve those kids well, because they’d sure as hell been through enough already.
A cheerful voice pulled his attention back to the present. Wait...there was something familiar about that voice. It set off a mosaic of memories—little pieces that didn’t quite add up to anything solid, but made him feel a thousand hazy things at once. Spring rainstorms and a majestic show of lightning from the vantage of a barn loft; a summer day on a dock down at the reservoir, a beach towel for a picnic blanket; the high school football stadium, just before kickoff, a small hand in his and a soft voice encouraging him, easing the jitters that sometimes got so bad his stomach would hurt just before he had to go out on the field...
That voice. He’d recognize it anywhere.
And yet.
Alex looked up in disbelief. It couldn’t be her. She was gone—had been gone for years now. Not enough to make him forget, unfortunately, but enough to ease the hurt to a point that he’d been able to build a life that didn’t include her.
It was then he noticed that the reading had stopped—in fact, all noise around him had ceased—and the entire row of parents, the kids on the carpet and the customers milling around the bookshelves...all had their eyes on him. Briefly, it crossed his mind that this level of unwanted attention should make him pretty damn uncomfortable, except that he couldn’t really process any of it.
Not when Gina Heron, the love of his life, the same girl he hadn’t seen in nearly two decades and had in fact never expected to see again, was staring straight at him.
“Um, excuse me, miss,” interjected Kenneth the future hall monitor, pointer finger raised. “The story?”
Unable to take his eyes off her, Alex watched as Gina cleared her throat and forced her concentration back onto the slim chapter book that sat closed in front of her. Sliding from her lap as she startled, it took a dive and landed with a quiet smack at her feet, splitting the continued silence. She glanced down, not seeming to register what had happened until a little girl picked up the book, handed it back, patted her knee reassuringly and returned to a spot on the carpet.
Gina shook her head. “Thank you,” she said to the little girl, eyes wide.
“Uh, okay,” Gina said, thumbing through the pages until she found where she’d left off. “Let’s continue.”
Meeting Alex’s gaze one more time before quickly pulling her eyes away, she picked up where she’d left off, her voice shaking a little from time to time until she regained her footing.
Alex closed his eyes and pinched his thigh, hard, through his worn jeans, but when he opened them back up, she was still there. Daring to look to his left and right, he was relieved to discover that he no longer captured the attention of everyone in the room. The parents around him had resumed reading email on their cell phones and the shoppers were once again browsing, no longer curious about the sudden silence in the children’s corner, and all was as it should be.
Except that Gina Heron, the woman he’d promised his heart to at age eight, the woman who’d turned down his marriage proposal after they’d planned a life together—the woman he’d tried with all his might and yet failed to stop loving—was apparently back in town. Add to this that not a single soul, not even Gina’s sister, Sophie, who knew damn well that he and the kids showed up weekly for story hour, had thought to pass along this epic news.
To make matters worse, seeing her didn’t just bring back all the bad stuff, all the heartache she’d caused. Looking at her now—that halo of untamable, curly gold hair, the almond-shaped light brown eyes that nothing slipped past, and those sweet soft curves he’d lost himself in so many times—it was easy to pretend that not a moment had been lost between them.
Too easy.
The room began to spin a little, and Alex’s breath came in shallow spurts.
He couldn’t just leave. It wouldn’t be fair to the kids, who needed routine and consistency and who looked forward to story hour. It would be selfish to disrupt their time just because he couldn’t manage to get it together. All because of a woman he should have gotten over ages ago.
