Immediately fresh tears threatened to spill down her pale cheeks. “No…I can’t…Oh, Bob, I don’t know what I’ll do without my boy.”
“We’re going to get through this, sweetheart. It’ll always hurt, but you and I are going to deal with this.”
Her smile was weak but present, and his heart filled with love for his wife. “Now, about Pastor Dawson.”
She glanced away, embarrassed.
“The judge’s decision had nothing to do with the minister. If you want to lay the blame at anyone’s feet, you don’t need to go any farther than this room.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning forward to gently brush the hair from her cheek. “We were the ones who screwed up our lives. Just try to put yourself in that judge’s shoes. He had two couples—maybe more—to choose from. All of us good people, each couple wanting Axel. He didn’t have anything to look at but the facts, written in black and white on a sheet of paper. Nothing that would prove to him how much we loved Axel. Nothing that would discount our mistakes. Before we got married, you told me there were things you’d done…”
Merrily squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.
“I have my own list of sins, and it isn’t any shorter than yours. We both made errors over the years. The judge couldn’t ignore that.”
Merrily looked down and her hair fell forward. “I know, but no one will love Axel more than us.”
“No one,” Bob agreed.
“It seems so unfair when we’ve both worked so hard to be better people and…and we are, but—”
“We are better,” Bob said. “We’ve both grown, and part of that process is learning to accept responsibility for the past. The angry drifter who got arrested for possession of a controlled substance several years ago isn’t me. Not anymore. I’m a husband and a business owner, a member of the town council and the school board. But, unfortunately, I do have a past, and I have to accept the consequences of the life I once lived.”
Merrily studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “I do, too.” Sliding forward, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. It was the most physical contact they’d had since Doug’s phone call.
“I’ve needed you,” Merrily told him, her voice trembling. “I’ve felt so alone.”
“I’ve needed you, too.”
“Then why did you stay away? Why didn’t you hold me when I wanted you so much?”
Bob buried his face in the curve of her neck. “I was afraid.” He could tell by the way her body tensed that she didn’t understand. “Afraid you’d vanish. Afraid I’d wake up and find you’d left me again. I was protecting myself.”
“But, Bob—”
“Every time you walk away, something dies inside of me,” he said, as he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks.
Merrily caught his hand and brought his fingers to her lips. “You’re right, you know, about accepting responsibility for my past. I played a role in the judge’s decision, too. You never said, but the caseworker learned about my little habit of running away, didn’t she? It couldn’t have looked good as a qualification for being Axel’s mother.”
“I don’t think they knew,” he lied, wanting to spare her.
“Hogwash,” she said, shaking her head. “The judge had to know. You say we have to take responsibility for ourselves. I’m doing that, so don’t try to make excuses for me. I did run away, but it won’t happen again.”
“You’re sure?” Bob hated how uncertain he sounded, but he needed her reassurance.
Merrily smiled and briefly kissed him. “Very sure. I learned my lesson the last time.”
She’d never spoken of where she’d gone or how she’d lived while they were apart. Not knowing had plagued Bob, filled him with doubts and gnawing questions, but he’d never press her for details. “Did someone hurt you?” he demanded, anger tightening his chest.
“No.” She was quick to correct him. “I realized I couldn’t leave you or Buffalo Valley. My heart is here. You’re my home, this town and these people are a part of me. We will get through this. It won’t be easy, but together we’ll survive.”
May 30th
Dear Kevin,
Your letter arrived today and I’m thrilled you’ve got some great ideas for the war memorial. I think it’s way cool that the town council contacted you about the project.
So you’ve got a summer job, working at the Art Institute of Chicago. I have to admit I’m a bit disappointed you won’t be coming home. We’ve been writing a couple of months now, and it’d be nice if we could sit down and talk face-to-face. Funny, when we were in school together, we didn’t say more than a few words to each other. Now all I think about is seeing you and talking to you in person. I know you’ll be home for the Fourth of July weekend, but that seems so far away. Actually, I was thinking about checking out Chicago—more on that later.
Believe it or not, I’ve got my choice of jobs. I’m working part-time at Joanie’s video store, after school and on Saturday nights, but Rachel approached me about working full-time at a new day-care center after graduation. She offered to pay for the college courses I’d need in early childhood development. I’m thinking about it. Buffalo Bob’s going to hire three people for the summer, and my mother’s quilting business has grown to fifteen employees. When you’re home, you’ll be amazed by the changes here. More and more people are moving to Buffalo Valley. One of the nurses from the new medical clinic moved into town last week. There’s only a couple of vacant houses now.
I recently had a bit of a run-in with my grandfather. As soon as I graduate, I’m moving out. You’ve got a wonderful family and I think it’s great how all of you get along, but that’s not the case with me. My mother’s remarried and isn’t interested in having me around and frankly, I wouldn’t live with her and Dennis, anyway. Gramps has developed an attitude, so it doesn’t look like I’ll be living there much longer. I was thinking about asking my uncle Jeb about moving in with him and Maddy, but they live so far out of town. I wouldn’t like being an hour away from my friends. Anyway, I’ve come up with an alternative idea. Hassie Knight. I’ve always liked Hassie. Everyone loves Hassie. She’s been around forever and she knows everyone and…well, you understand. I thought she might like the company. What do you think of my idea? Not that I intend to live with her long. Only until I’ve got enough money to check out Chicago. Maybe I could go to school there—do Early Childhood or whatever. Plus, I’d be able to see you!
I wonder if you know how grateful I am that we’re friends. It’s incredible to me that someone from Buffalo Valley actually escaped. I know, I know, you talk about moving back one day and maybe you will, but for right now you’re living in one of the most exciting cities in the world, experiencing things the rest of us only dream about. Minneapolis didn’t work out, but I wish I could leave Buffalo Valley. I don’t feel really connected with anyone here anymore. Jessica’s started dating Joe, and I feel like all my friends are pairing up.
I’d better go, I’m at work just now. It’s time to close down and count out the till. I’m so glad you answered my letter right away.
Write again soon. Okay?
Love,
Calla
Calla mailed the letter on her way home from school Friday afternoon. As she stepped out of the post office, she saw Hassie Knight entering the pharmacy. Not hesitating, she headed across the street. No time like the present to approach Hassie with her idea.
Not wanting to be obvious, Calla strolled into the pharmacy and slid onto a stool at the fountain.
Hassie wore a big smile as she made her way behind the counter. “Come for one of my sodas, have you?”
“I sure have,” Calla said, propping her chin on her hands. “I thought about these sodas more than once when I was living in Minneapolis.”
“I’ll bet one of my sodas wasn’t the only thing you were thinking about while you were away.”
Calla didn’t answer; no need to let Hassi
e know that she’d probably be leaving town as soon as she was financially able. The older woman was such a staunch defender of the community, she wouldn’t understand Calla’s eagerness to leave. “Actually I came for more than a soda,” she said.
Hassie handed her the soda, then walked around the counter and pulled up a stool. “What’s on your mind?”
Calla figured it’d help to have some kind of subtle lead-in to the question she wanted to ask, but she couldn’t come up with one. Might as well wade right in. “I guess you know I’ve been having trouble with my mother.”
“I did hear something along those lines,” Hassie admitted.
Calla took a sip of her soda and smiled, letting the older woman know how much she enjoyed it. A little flattery was never a bad idea, and besides, Hassie really did make fabulous sodas.
“I don’t blame my mother,” Calla added, wanting to sound adult and mature. “In some families, parents and children just don’t see eye to eye.”
“Is that true of you and your mother?”
“It seems to be.” Calla released a small sigh, as though she considered this entire situation unfortunate and one she deeply regretted.
“It’s never too late, you know.”
This wasn’t the path Calla wanted the conversation to take. “My mother has a new life now. She’s got her business and her marriage. She’s happy with Dennis and they’re starting a family. I don’t fit into that picture, if you catch my drift.”
Hassie shook her head, her expression impatient. “Fiddlesticks.”
“It’s true, Hassie. I love my mother, but I can’t live with her.”
“I imagine you’re grateful for your grandfather, then.” Hassie raised her eyebrows expectantly.
“Oh, yes. Gramps has been wonderful. I don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for him—but lately we seem to be having a bit of a problem, too.”
“You’re not getting along with your grandfather?” Hassie asked loudly. “Is that what you’re saying?”
Calla forced herself to look sad and woebegone. Lowering her eyes, she whispered, “We recently had a bit of a falling out.”
“You and Joshua?” Hassie made it sound like that wasn’t possible. “I’ve known your grandfather a lot of years, and he’s an absolute marvel at avoiding conflict. Hates it. In fact, he’ll do just about anything to get out of it.”
“He didn’t have any trouble speaking his mind with me,” Calla informed her, remembering all too well the bluntness of his words. She inhaled a deep breath. “Seeing that I don’t get along with him or my mother,” she said quickly, “I was giving serious thought to…” She hesitated, wondering if her announcement would sound too melodramatic.
“Serious thought to what?” Hassie asked.
Her chin came up. “Disowning my family.” That idea had felt very satisfying when she’d first thought of it.
Hassie’s eyes narrowed to thin slits. “You mean before they disown you?”
Calla felt that barb and would have returned an even sharper one of her own if she wasn’t looking to Hassie for help. All right, in all likelihood she wouldn’t disown her entire family. She’d probably stay in contact with Jeb and Maddy, not as relatives but as friends. Jeb was all right as uncles went and Maddy was terrific. Besides, Julianne was the only cousin she had and the sweetest baby ever.
“You don’t think I should disown my family?” she asked.
“Hardly. As far as I can see, they’ve done nothing to deserve it.”
Apparently Hassie wasn’t privy to the things her mother had done, but Calla preferred to avoid discussing the sordid details of Sarah’s affair with Dennis Urlacher. Nor did she wish to talk about her father’s pathetic life. Both her parents disgusted her.
She reached for her soda and took a deep swallow. This conversation was more difficult than she’d bargained for. Clearly, she needed to approach it from a different angle. “Have you noticed how many people are moving into Buffalo Valley?” she asked in a determinedly casual tone.
Hassie’s eyes brightened. “The way this town’s coming back to life is a sight to behold, isn’t it?”
“It’s really cool.”
Hassie laughed, and patted Calla’s hand.
“You seem to be doing good business lately.” She nodded at the cash, where Leta was ringing up purchase after purchase.
“Very good,” Hassie agreed.
“I don’t suppose you could use any extra help?” She made the question sound timid, as though she was afraid to ask.
“I thought you were working at the Wyatts’ video store.”
“Oh, I am, but…I was looking for more hours. Whatever you could give me.” The job inquiry was meant to lead into the subject of living with Hassie. Just until she finished school and had enough money to move away.
She’d always heard that honesty was the best policy, and seeing what a mess she’d made of this, Calla decided the direct approach would probably work better. “Actually,” she said, staring down at her soda, “I was thinking I could move in with you.”
“You want to live with me?” Hassie sounded kind of skeptical.
“Not for long,” she promised quickly. “Just until graduation. Perhaps a while longer…I wouldn’t be a bother, really I wouldn’t. We could help each other. I’d do the housework and the cooking, work in the store, and you’d be helping me out.”
Her suggestion was followed by a lengthy silence.
“You don’t think it’s a good idea?” Calla asked, chancing a look in the older woman’s direction.
“No. In fact, I think this is the worst idea I’ve heard in twenty years.”
“Oh.” Calla’s voice fell. A simple no would do, she thought resentfully. “Why?”
“First of all, you’ve already got more places to live than four teenagers combined. I know for a fact that your mother would love to have you with her—”
“No way!” As if Calla would deign to live in the same house as Dennis Urlacher! Not in this lifetime.
“So I understand, which is a pity. Your mother and Dennis deserve better treatment than you’re giving them. So does Joshua. I don’t know what happened between you two, but if he confronted you, then my guess is you damn well needed it. I can’t imagine anyone with less reason to disown her family! One day you’ll look back and realize how foolish you’ve been. For your sake, I hope it’s soon.”
Calla felt the heat of indignation fill her face.
“My advice, and you did ask for it, is to step back a moment, think about what you have and thank God every day of your life that there are people who love you and care about you.”
Calla blinked back the hurt. She’d expected Hassie to be an ally. Obviously she’d been wrong. Slapping some money on the counter, she turned and with an indignant tilt to her head, walked out of the pharmacy.
Margaret drew in a deep, calming breath and spoke gently to the laboring heifer who was about to deliver her calf. This was her first birth and the poor thing struggled with each contraction.
“It’s all right, girl,” Margaret said softly. “You’re doing just fine. Soon you’ll have a beautiful new baby.”
Margaret worried about the heifer. The birth was taking longer than expected and the animal was weakening. Rolling up her sleeves, she slipped on the long plastic glove and inserted her arm into the birth canal to feel for the hooves. They were there, thankfully. At least the calf wasn’t breech. She removed her arm, slipped off the glove and patted the heifer, crooning encouragement.
“Can I help?”
At the sound of Matt’s voice, she swung her head around. He stood no more than five feet away. She stared, hardly able to believe that her imagination hadn’t conjured him up. She hadn’t seen him in over a week.
“Say something,” he said next. He seemed to need some sign of the kind of reception she was willing to accord him.
The cow bawled with pain and Margaret glanced back at her. “Yeah—I could use some help,” she said.
>
“You’ve got it.” A moment later, he was on his knees at her side.
“We’re going to need a rope,” Margaret told him.
“You sure she’s ready?”
“Check for yourself.”
Matt quickly washed his hands, then rolled up his sleeve. Soon his arm was sheathed in the blue glove and he was elbow-deep inside the cow. She didn’t take kindly to the intrusion and protested loudly, thrashing her legs until Matt withdrew his arm.
“Apparently I’m not as gentle as you,” he muttered.
Margaret let the comment slide. She wasn’t there to discuss who possessed the better technique. She wanted to know his thoughts on how the birth was progressing. “Well?” she demanded.
“I agree with you. She’s ready. I feel the hooves and the nose. As soon as they show, we’ll put the rope to use.”
The birth proved to be even more difficult than Margaret had anticipated. Soon after the calf’s hooves emerged, they looped the rope around the front legs. Down on her knees with Matt, Margaret tugged and pulled, employing every ounce of strength she had. By the time the calf slid free of his mother, Margaret’s arms ached and her face burned with exertion.
She had just started to rise when the first cramp hit her. An involuntary yelp escaped and she doubled over, cradling her stomach.
“Margaret!” Right away Matt was there.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She slumped onto a bale of hay until she could assess what was happening. It didn’t take long to realize she’d strained a muscle.
“Is it the baby?”
“No,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”
“There’s something wrong. You’re pale as a ghost,” Matt argued.
“I said I was fine,” she fired back.
“You’re in pain.”
Now that was a laugh. The man who’d broken her heart was concerned because she had a stomach cramp.
“Dammit, Margaret, you can’t be doing this kind of physical labor. Not when you’re pregnant.”
The man had his nerve. “I’ll do whatever I damn well please!”
“You can be angry with me if you want, but I can’t allow you to do anything that’ll hurt our baby.”