The Trouble with Angels (Angels Everywhere #2)(22)

"Since three-thirty. I couldn’t sleep,” Karen explained, tossing her arms into the air. "I tried and tried, but every time I closed my eyes all I could think about was learning to ride, and sleeping was impossible.”

"All right.” Maureen could see she was fighting a losing battle, although she refused to show up on Thom Nichols’s back step before the sun rose. "Give me a few minutes to wake up.” She struggled into a sitting position and pulled the hair away from her face.

"I can cook us breakfast. What would you like?”

Maureen shook her head. "Just coffee for now, thanks.”

That Karen managed to get her out of bed, dressed, and fed before seven on a Sunday morning was little short of a miracle as far as Maureen was concerned. The last time she’d been up this early on a weekend, she’d been nursing Karen.

By sheer force of will she was able to hold her daughter off until nine, but it demanded every trick she had up the sleeve of motherhood.

Using the detailed directions Thom had given her, Maureen easily found her way to Nichols’s Riding Stables. The sprawling adobe building was set back from the corral, which housed five or six horses.

Karen was out of the car and racing toward the corral as fast as her legs would carry her by the time Maureen had parked. Before she could so much as object, Karen had stepped onto the bottom rung of the fence and had folded her arms over a post as if she were born to be a buckaroo. By the time Maureen caught up with her, Karen was rooted to the spot, a look of sheer bliss over her face.

"Mom, look. Aren’t they the most beautiful creatures you’ve ever seen?”

"Sweetheart, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be standing up there like that.”

"I’m fine. People do this in the movies all the time.”

"Can I help you?” a deep, resonant male voice asked from behind her.

Maureen turned around, prepared to apologize for the way Karen had instantly made herself at home, but the words never made it to her lips. Before her stood the embodiment of every cowboy hero she’d ever dreamed about as a teenage girl. He was Gary Cooper, John Wayne, and Clint Eastwood all rolled into one hunk of a man. He stood at least six inches taller than Maureen, and his hat added an additional four or five to that. His face was as tanned as soft leather and marked with the most striking pair of blue eyes Maureen had even seen.

"I’m Maureen Woods,” she said when she could manage to stop staring. Her business acumen rescued her, and she stepped forward and offered him her hand. "I believe we talked yesterday.”

"Thom Nichols,” he said, removing his glove in order to shake hands with her. His palms were covered with thick calluses. "You’re the divorcée, right?”

"I didn’t tell you that,” Maureen said defensively.

"No, I don’t suppose you did,” he said. "No offense meant.”

"How’d you know?”

He removed his hat and slapped it across his thigh. "Can’t rightly say. It must have been something you said.”

"What are the horses’ names?” Karen asked, jumping down from the corral.

"First off, they aren’t just horses. The black one out there is Midnight, and he’s a gelding. The spotted one’s a mare named Thunder. The one in the corner’s a roan. These are all terms you’ll be learning later as part of the class.”

"How long have you been operating Nichols’s Riding Stables?” Maureen asked.

"A year or so now.”

"Dad.” A girl raced from inside the barn and stopped abruptly when she saw her father with Karen and Maureen.

Thom placed his arm around the girl. "This is my daughter, Paula.”

"Hello, Paula,” Maureen said.

"Hi.” Karen raised her right hand in greeting. From the look she gave the other girl, one would think Thom Nichols’s daughter was the luckiest girl alive.

"Why don’t you give Karen a quick tour while I talk to her mother?” Thom suggested.

"Sure. Come on,” Paula said, immediately taking charge. "Our cat, Tinkerbell, just had a litter of kittens, and I found them in the barn.”

"Really? I’ve never seen newborn kittens before.”

"That should keep those two entertained for a few minutes,” Thom said. "Why don’t I pour us each a cup of coffee and describe the riding course to you, and then you can decide if you want to sign Karen up for lessons or not.”

Actually a cup of coffee sounded wonderful. "I don’t mean to interrupt your morning. It’s just that Karen was so excited, she all but dragged me out of bed at five-thirty. I’m sure you and your wife have better things to do than entertain me.”

"It’s no bother,” Thom assured her, leading her toward the house. "By the way, I’m a widower.”

6

"Why would such a thing happen to Madge?” Bernard asked, leaning forward on the hard, plastic hospital chair and wringing his hands. "She was in so much pain already. Did God think she needed more?”

"I don’t know why God allows anyone to suffer,” Paul confessed to the older man. He felt bitterly inadequate to comfort the long-standing church member. All Paul had to offer Bernard was his presence, and frankly he wasn’t sure he was doing anyone a favor. Least of all Madge and Bernard.