ON FRIDAY AFTERNOON, ANGRY VOICES DREW CHET out of the house in time to see Pete take a swing at his brother and miss. Sam was quick to retaliate. He connected with Pete’s nose, knocking him to the ground. The younger boy was back on his feet in seconds, this time using his head as a battering ram, flying straight into Sam’s midsection. Sam was thrown backward. He slammed into the side of the truck that had carried the two boys home from school not long before.
“Sam! Pete!” Chet ran to put himself in between them. “Stop it!”
He didn’t succeed in pulling the brothers apart until one of the hired hands, Blake Buttons, showed up to assist him. Chet got ahold of Pete. Blake dragged Sam in the opposite direction.
Chet turned his youngest son around to face him. The boy had a bloody nose, and his right eye was starting to swell. “What’s going on?”
“Ask him.” Pete spat the words as he jerked his head toward his brother.
“You’re acting like a baby,” Sam returned as he fingered his split lower lip.
With a cry of rage, Pete tried to pull free from his father’s grasp.
Chet held on tight. “I want to know what’s going on between you two, and I want to know now!”
Sam was the first to answer. “He’s mad, ’cause I asked Tara Welch to go with me to the prom next week and she said yes.”
“You know I like her. You know it. You coulda asked somebody else. Any girl but Tara.”
“So what if you like her? You aren’t her boyfriend, and you couldn’t take her to the prom anyway. You’re a sophomore. Why shouldn’t I ask her?”
“You wouldn’t have asked her if it wasn’t for me.”
“Ah, grow up.”
This time, Pete managed to jerk away from his father’s grasp, but he didn’t try to go for his brother again. Instead he stormed off toward the barn.
Blake appeared to be hiding a smile as he relaxed his grip on Sam’s arms. He sent a questioning gaze toward his boss. Chet nodded, silently telling him he could go. Without comment, Blake returned to whatever he’d been doing before the fight broke out.
Chet focused his attention on his eldest son. “Is that true? Did you ask Tara out just to hurt your brother?”
“No. I thought I was doing her a favor. She’s new at school and doesn’t seem to have many friends yet.” He touched his lip again, then checked his fingertips for blood, his brows knitted together in a deep frown. “I figured she’d want to go to the prom. And like I said, it isn’t like she’s Pete’s girlfriend. They aren’t going out or anything. He’s never told her he likes her. He’s too chicken for that.”
Chet had worried Pete might get his heart broken by Tara, this being his first serious crush, but he hadn’t figured on Sam being the reason. The brothers had squabbled before for many different reasons, but he’d never known them to go at it with fists—and certainly never over a girl. “You need to make it right with your brother, Sam.”
“How? Do I tell Tara I can’t take her to the prom ’cause Pete’s jealous?”
“No, that wouldn’t be fair to her. Not if she already accepted.”
“She did.”
Chet rubbed his chin, hoping for an idea. Nothing came to him. “I don’t know how you’ll make it up to him,” he answered at last. “But you’d better find a way.”
“I’ll do what I can. Just don’t expect a miracle.” Sam grabbed his backpack off the ground and walked toward the house, slipping past Anna who had come outside sometime during the commotion. Chet followed a few moments later.
“What was that about?” Anna asked when he reached her.
“A girl.”
Anna looked toward the barn. “Tara?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, dear.”
Her words added an extra weight to his shoulders. “Yeah.”
WHEN KIMBERLY WALKED THROUGH THE BACK DOOR into Janet’s kitchen, Tara was waiting for her. The girl’s eyes were brilliant with excitement.
“Mom, I got asked to the prom. It’s next weekend. I’ve gotta have a dress.” The words tumbled out of her with nary a breath. “Can we go find a dress tomorrow? Please, Mom. Please.”
“The prom?” Her daughter hadn’t mentioned a prom before now. Tara had never shown any interest in school dances or fancy dresses. It had always been horses, horses, horses. “Who invited you?”
“Sam Leonard.”
Kimberly relaxed slightly as she set her purse on the small table near the door. Sam seemed a nice boy, and he came from a good family. That offered some relief. But a prom dress was another matter entirely. How could they afford one?
Janet appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Mind if I butt in? Couldn’t help but overhear.”
Kimberly shook her head, then nodded, desperate for any help that might be offered.
“There’s a secondhand store in Boise that specializes in formal gowns for teens at reasonable prices. The dresses are as good as new but at a fraction of the price you’d pay in the department or specialty stores. Why don’t you two drive down tomorrow and see what you can find? Make a day of it.”
Money for gas. Money for a dress. Could she manage it? Of course she could. She’d have to manage it. A girl’s first prom was an important milestone, and Tara deserved to go to it. She’d done without so much since her father passed away.
Kimberly forced away any remaining negative thoughts, the kind that came to her all too easily. “All right.” She smiled. “Let’s do it. A girls’ day out. Just you and me. It’ll be fun.”
“I’ll have to call Ms. McKenna and tell her I can’t be there tomorrow.”
“Oh, dear. I’d forgotten that.” Kimberly frowned in thought. “Maybe I could volunteer to go with you on Sunday afternoon or one evening next week so that Ms. McKenna has double the help. We don’t want Mr. Leonard to feel as if you’re taking advantage of him or shirking your duties.” Even as the words left her mouth, intuition told her Chet Leonard wouldn’t feel that way. He would understand. Still, she added, “Your horse eats, whether you help around the ranch or not.”
“Sure. That’d be great if you could come help. I’ll call now.”
Kimberly watched as her daughter picked up the phone and punched in the number, but she didn’t wait for someone to answer on the other end. She wanted out of her work clothes and into her favorite pair of jeans.
Janet followed her to the bedroom door. “Tara’s super excited.”
“I didn’t think anything but a horse could get her so worked up.”
“Sam’s a nice kid.”
“He seems like it.” She stepped behind the open closet door and began to change clothes. “But I’m not sure I’m ready for Tara to fall for him or any boy. Inevitably what follows a first crush is the first heartbreak.”
“We all have to go through that, Kimmie. It’s how we learn as we grow up.”
She tugged on her jeans. “I know. But I still wish I could protect her from it for a while. These last years have been hard ones. I’d like to see her happy for a good long spell.”
“Despite all that’s happened to the two of you, Tara’s got her head on straight. You’ve done a good job raising her.”
Kimberly looked around the closet door. “Do you really think so?”
“I really think so.” Janet smiled at her before turning away. “I’m going to grill hamburgers for supper.”
“I’ll be out in a sec to help.” Kimberly pulled on a T-shirt, then glanced in the mirror above the dresser. “You need to learn not to worry,” she told her reflection. If only I could.
THAT EVENING, DINNER IN THE LEONARD HOME WAS AN uncomfortable affair, anger an almost physical presence in the room. Neither of the boys said more than a dozen words the entire meal. Tired of the tension, Chet excused Pete and Sam from doing the dishes. Easier to wash up himself, he decided, than let his sons’ foul moods give him an ulcer.
When he’d finished cleaning up in the kitchen, he headed for his office, intending to accomplish some much-needed bookkeeping. Instead he sat at his desk and stared toward the window, unseeing.
If Marsha were here, he wondered, would she know how to handle this rift between brothers? Or would she feel as helpless as he felt now?
Chet would have given a lot to have had a brother when he was a kid. He’d had a great childhood, but sometimes he’d been lonely. He’d decided early on that, when he married, he wanted a big family. No only child for this Leonard. Four generations of that was enough. He’d wanted a bunch of kids to fill the bedrooms of this old ranch house as they’d never been filled before.
He thought back to the births of each of his three sons, remembering the joy he felt the first time he’d held them in his arms. Happiness had seemed a promise for the rest of their days. But that kind of thinking had been naïve. Nobody got to be happy forever. Not on this earth. Trials came to the just and unjust, like the rain. He’d heard it said that happiness and joy were two different things. Happiness because of circumstances—and ever so fleeting. Joy because of trusting God, despite the circumstances. Was that true? He wasn’t sure.
He stood and walked to the window. Sunset was a ways off, but the lowering sun had painted the barnyard with the muted shades of evening. He always liked this time of day on the ranch. Everything moved slower. Nothing was pressing. Chet closed his eyes and leaned a shoulder against the window case. As he released a deep breath, he let the concern for his battling sons go on a silent prayer.
That you may know the way by which you shall go, for you have not passed this way before.
He’d read that passage from the book of Joshua during his morning devotions, and as the words returned to him, he felt some of the worry drain away. This was new ground for them as a family, but they’d passed through a lot of new ground over the years. And somehow they’d always managed to find their way through it. With God’s help, they would do so once again.