Mom in the Middle by Mae Nunn

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    â€œGuy?”
    Above the whir of the circular saw, he heard her call his name. He cut the power and slid the protective goggles up to his forehead. Tipping his head back, he took in the vision of Abby Cramer in a quick sweep that he hoped didn’t make him seem like a frat boy. Worn sneakers, bare legs, frayed and faded jean shorts, and a loose Texas Longhorns T-shirt. A riot of wild blond curls surrounded a face enchantingly pink from her work in the warm kitchen.
    Wow, she’s adorable.
    â€œIs that offer to give Dad a lift to the hospital this evening still good?”
    â€œSure is.” Guy had made other plans when she’d turned him down hours earlier, but he could shift some things around to free up the time. He was glad for the chance to check for himself on Sarah Reagan’s progress. Still, he was amazed Abby had changed her mind. Shorty had said she wouldn’t go for the offer and he wasn’t surprised when his daughter shot down the request.
    Guy stood, stretching the kinks out of his long legs while effectively removing the potential for another glance at hers. “Is anything wrong?”
    â€œNo, I just realized I was looking a gift horse in the mouth.”
    â€œWell, I guess a gift horse is certainly an improvement over a horse’s behind,” he couldn’t resist teasing.
    Her gaze dropped. “So you did hear that the other day. Sorry.” She nudged a little pile of sawdust between the boards to the grass below. “And I apologize about my grumpy mood earlier.”
    â€œHey, everybody’s allowed to have a bad day now and again.” Boy, had living in a house full of women ever taught him that. As well as never to make that observation out loud unless he wanted a punch to his gut.
    â€œThanks for letting me off the hook.” Her gaze met his. “But I don’t deserve it. If Mama heard me being ungracious in her kitchen, she’d send me to my room without dinner.”
    He smiled at the thought, realizing there was probably more than a kernel of truth in the statement. By all observation, the mistress of this house ran a tight ship and that included the crew as well as the vessel.
    â€œI personally think you should go shopping instead of to your room.”
    Her brows pulled together as she seemed to consider his suggestion. From the appealing way she puckered her lips as she thought, he guessed shopping was not the stress reliever of choice for Abby that it was for members of the gaggle.
    â€œAs tempting as that sounds, I have a dozen phone calls to make before my playground committeemeeting after church tomorrow so I think I’ll catch up on that.”
    â€œI’ve worked at the store every day since I’ve been here but I think I might take the whole weekend off and attend church in person instead of watching it on television for a change. Do you mind telling me where you worship?”
    â€œNew Harvest. It’s the brown brick sanctuary on West Chavez, just past the high school. We were planted by Abundant Harvest, a really fast-growing congregation in Houston. Our building is old and we’re trying to do some things to modernize it for our small community. I’m working with the Mother’s-Day-out group to build a playground in one corner of the lot. Our funds are limited so we’re doing the landscaping ourselves with used railroad timbers and buying secondhand equipment a piece at a time when we run across it on sale. It’s slow going but everybody pitches in when they can.”
    â€œSounds like a great bunch of folks.”
    She opened her mouth as if to speak, then paused. She stared at her toes, seemed reluctant to say what was on her mind. When she finally spoke, her voice was hesitant.
    â€œYou could join us for the early service in the morning, if you wanted to.”
    His heart dipped. The look on her face and the way she offered up the suggestion made it sound more like duty