Mark gripped the steering wheel as he drove down the freeway toward Miles City. Everything was going wrong. Before leaving the café, he had left the door open on his pickup for a few minutes while he checked the tire on the passenger side. He hadn’t noticed until he was more than halfway to his destination that he had a stowaway passenger huddled under an open newspaper on the floor of the cab—the sneaky cat that Jeremy called his Callie. Apparently, she could be quiet when it suited her.
Mark rolled his eyes. “What am I supposed to do with you?” he asked the feline.
She smugly ignored him and licked her paw. Mark figured that driving off with Jeremy’s cat involved some treachery on the part of that feisty animal. Mark was too big to fight fairly and the cat knew it. But this escapade would not endear Mark to his son; Jeremy would likely protect his pet with his life. No one would believe the cat had gotten into his pickup voluntarily since she never left Jeremy’s side and didn’t seem overly fond of Mark. It was bad enough that he wasn’t a comic book hero, Mark figured. He didn’t need to be a villain in a cat abduction story. Even Hannah would join forces with their son in condemnation of him.
Just thinking about Hannah almost made Mark turn around right away, but he realized he was already more than halfway to Miles City. He could call Mrs. Hargrove when he got to the bank and explain what happened quicker than he could let anyone know if he turned around now and retraced his route.
Empty wheat fields lined the road to Miles City. Mark saw a rabbit or two bounding along near the fences. He liked this time of year when the harvesting was done. The pickup hit a bump in the road and the cat hissed and then settled down to glare at Mark.
“I guess you probably thought it would all go smoother,” Mark said, agreeing with that sentiment. “Well, welcome to the club.”
By this time, Callie had swatted the newspaper aside and was standing on top of the stack of papers that had been lying on the floor. She had already wrinkled the rodeo flyer and was standing on the envelopes as she looked around.
“I know you smelled the sandwich,” Mark said to the cat. “But I already brought it up by me.”
Mark had made a tuna sandwich and tucked it into a thin cool pack so he could take it with him when he left the house this morning. It was noon now, but he wasn’t stopping.
“I couldn’t eat a thing,” Mark said conversationally to his reluctant companion. “Not hungry.”
Mark couldn’t remember what he’d eaten earlier, but he supposed it was scrambled eggs and toast. It’s what he usually ate when breakfasting in his father’s house.
“I suppose you want something to eat though,” Mark added after a few minutes.
The cat meowed, and Mark thought he detected a bit of a prima donna attitude in the beast.
“Well, you’ll have to wait,” Mark said in case the cat was planning to claw its way into the cool pack that was on the dashboard in front of Mark. An easy snap was all that kept the cat out of the pack as it was. Callie did look at him hopefully, though.
“If I open up that sandwich, the whole pickup will smell of tuna and I’m not going into that bank stinking like pickled fish,” Mark said.
Not that using a gimmick of some kind was a bad idea, he thought. He’d heard of one man who had gotten a loan because he could twirl four plates in the air at one time.
Mark’s only claim to fame was those years lost in a coma. People were sure interested in what that was like. Most bankers wouldn’t consider it an asset for a loan, though.
“Mr. Gaines watched me play sports all through high school,” Mark reminded himself with a sideways glance at the cat. “And he watched me do some riding in the rodeo. I’m counting on his remembering me. He’ll know that I don’t quit. That I’ve always ridden any horse I draw. That I struggle and fight to win. He should know I’ll be good for any money that I can borrow, don’t you think?”
The cat was dozing by then so Mark was left with his thoughts. Which didn’t please him. When he finished fretting about the loan, the hurt of this morning kept pressing closer to him. It was his fault, really, that Jeremy had rejected him. A man with any sense should have slowly worked up to the announcement with Jeremy instead of being so abrupt. It’s just that he’d enjoyed his interactions with the boy and had assumed that his son would be pleased to know that he was his father.
And that wasn’t even the worst of it, Mark admitted to himself. It wasn’t just the boy; he wanted the whole family—Jeremy, Hannah and even the old man. Mark felt he belonged with them even if he and Hannah had not said their vows. Well, and at this point, might never say them if he read Hannah right.
He should have planned better, he told himself. He was so used to winning easily that he’d never learned to work for success. He wondered if it was too late to launch a campaign for the heart of his new family.
He thought hard for a few minutes. “That’s the problem right there,” he said aloud. “I don’t have anything anymore to give them.”
His family’s farm was broke. They’d make their way back to being comfortable eventually, but it would take some years, and a woman might not want to wait that long.
“I should have asked her to marry me in high school,” he said finally. “I was a winner back then.”
Mark made the mistake of glancing down at that wayward cat and was irritated at the triumphant look in the feline’s eyes. “You think it’s easy to charm a woman, do you? Well, you should try it some time. The only reason Hannah accepts you is because you’re Jeremy’s cat.”
Mark knew Hannah wasn’t so shallow that she was only interested in the prizes a man could win, but it would certainly make him feel better to know he’d accomplished something to at least get her attention.
The town of Miles City appeared before he expected it and the bank stood where it always had square in the middle of the business area, a two-story brick building with big windows. He’d felt awestruck as a boy when he visited the place with his father. There was always a strip of green mown grass around the bank and a row of colorful flowers around the edge of the building.
After Mark stepped down from his pickup, he wished he’d thought to bring a present of some kind so he’d be able to give something to the banker. He couldn’t give money, of course. That would be a bribe. And it was too late to bring one of the pies from the café.
He looked around the cab of his pickup as though something would appear suddenly. Finally he moved and the sunlight shone on his belt buckle, reflecting a flash of light on the steering wheel.
“Of course, I remember what I was going to do,” Mark said, not speaking to the cat this time even though she lifted her head. He unclipped the buckle and saw reflected light swirl everywhere. Holding the buckle in his hand, he mused. He had been fortunate to win six of these prized buckles, but the one he held was the most expensive and his favorite. The rodeo association plated their first-place buckles with real silver and quality brass, but they’d added a few Montana opals to this one. It was the last buckle he’d won and he was especially proud of it because it was for bull riding. He slipped the buckle into the pocket of his jacket.
Mr. Gaines was in his office and, judging from the twinkling black eyes peering out through his horn-rimmed glasses, the older man appeared delighted to see Mark. He didn’t look as thrilled to see the cat walk in behind Mark, but he didn’t say anything.
Instead, he leaned forward to Mark with his hand outstretched. “You’re looking good. I can’t believe you’re here. My son idolizes you—well, he used to when you played football. You were a real cowboy when you rode those broncs, too.”
Mark felt his nerves relax. He had this. He shook hands with the man and they both sat down in the expensively upholstered chairs in the bank’s corner office. Mark didn’t care for the look in Callie’s eyes as she reached out a paw toward one of the chairs, so he bent down and picked her up.
“Coffee?” Mr. Gaines offered.
“Thanks, but no,” Mark said as he settled the unwilling cat onto his lap.
“I hear Dry Creek has a few good football players this fall,” Mr. Gaines said, his voice cordial. The town of Dry Creek didn’t have its own school, but they did have enough town spirit to form a cheering squad for the local kids who went to a bigger town for school.
“We always have one or two,” Mark agreed. “It’s all the farmwork that does it. Gives us all shoulder muscles and strong backs.”
“I prefer the rodeos myself,” Mr. Gaines said. “But I watch athletics, too. To support the community.”
“You do your part, that’s for sure,” Mark said.
Mr. Gaines nodded. “So, what can I help you with today?”
Mark had practiced the words in his mind, but what came out was, “I need a loan.”
“Oh,” Mr. Gaines said, his eyebrow rising slightly.
“You’ve watched me play sports,” Mark said. That was one point he remembered he was going to make. “I fight to win and I would pay every penny of a loan back, with interest. If I needed to, I could ride the rodeo circuit until I paid you back.”
Everything was silent for a few minutes.
“I thought you couldn’t ride rodeo anymore,” the banker said slowly. “I heard the doctors didn’t recommend it.”
“Oh, doctors,” Mark said with a wave of his free hand. “They don’t recommend walking across the street. They’re all afraid of lawsuits.”
The banker didn’t say anything, but he appeared to be thinking.
“It might not be bull riding or broncs or anything,” Mark said eagerly. “But I could do something.”
“Is this for business?” Mr. Gaines finally asked. “I usually talk with your father about any ranch loans in the spring.”
Mark shook his head. “My son needs a medical procedure done.”
Mark didn’t feel like revealing anything more about Jeremy’s condition. His son was not the one under the microscope. It was Mark.
“Ah,” Mr. Gaines murmured. “Is this Hannah’s—?”
The banker’s voice trailed off and Mark only nodded.
Then he remembered the rodeo belt buckle he had brought. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the buckle before holding it out to the banker. A brass bull almost jumped off the metalwork. “I won this by riding that big Brahma bull for three minutes and forty-two seconds in that rodeo they have every year up by Havre. I just got a flyer about the one they’re getting ready for on Saturday afternoon. You going?”
“I usually do,” the banker said.
“Me, too,” Mark said and then held the buckle closer to the other man. “Thought you might like to have this. Sort of a souvenir of all the times you cheered me on.”
“I did see some fine rides,” Mr. Gaines said with a smile. “You were really something. But you should keep that buckle. You won it.”
“I wouldn’t mind parting with it if it meant a loan,” Mark said, surprised that it was true.
Mr. Gaines stopped smiling and studied him. “How much do you need, son?”
“Thirty thousand,” Mark said and he saw the other man frown slightly. “But I’d settle for twenty-five. I can maybe sell my pickup and borrow some from my family. Even twenty might do.”
“That’s a bit steep for unsecured loans,” Mr. Gaines said. “Or do you have something for collateral?”
Mark shook his head. “Not for that amount.”
“Well,” Mr. Gaines said, “I can bring it to the board on Friday evening. You certainly are a well-known member of this community and we try to support our own when we can.”
Mark let out the breath he’d been holding. “So, there’s a chance?”
“A small one,” Mr. Gaines said as he stood. “We don’t generally make our calls until the Monday after the meeting, but I can call you Saturday morning before I head out to the rodeo and give you a heads-up. You can fill out the forms next week.”
Mark nodded. He had a chance. “Call me at the café in Dry Creek. I’ll wait there for word.”
Mark wanted to be close to Hannah when he heard about the loan.
“I’ll do that,” the banker said.
Mark put the buckle back in his pocket and shook hands again with Mr. Gaines. Then Mark tucked the cat under his arm and walked out of the banker’s office. Mark knew the teller and asked to use the phone to call Mrs. Hargrove. He was given permission and kept his remarks brief. Jeremy apparently had been napping and hadn’t noticed that Callie was even missing.
The sun was so strong outside that, when Mark stepped outside the bank, it made him stop and squint. When he opened the door of his pickup, the air inside was hotter than he expected even though he’d parked in the shade of the building.
Mark set the cat on the passenger seat and then climbed inside himself. It was time to go home. He’d no more had that thought when he realized he could no longer pinpoint exactly where his home was. He lived with his father on his family’s ranch, but his heart was with Hannah and Jeremy.
This was a bitter realization because as far as Mark could see, he had one chance to win the affections of the woman and boy: he had to get his hands on the thirty thousand dollars for that procedure. If there was ever a need for him to be a hero, the time was now. The cat jumped from the seat to the floorboard of his pickup and landed on the stack of mail. The rodeo flyer was still at the top of the pile.
“Don’t tear that,” Mark said softly as he reached down and pulled the sheet of paper away from the cat’s claws. He laid the flyer against the center of the steering wheel and smoothed it out before letting his eyes scan the listing of competitions one more time.
“There’s got to be something I can do to get some prize money,” he muttered to himself as he studied the list carefully. He needed a backup plan in case he didn’t get the loan.
* * *
Twenty miles away, Hannah and Lois were sitting at the small table in the kitchen of the Dry Creek café, taking a break. It was two o’clock and they’d served the last of the lunch crowd. The dining area was empty and they would hear any customer who might enter. They each had a cup of tea in front of them. In addition, Lois had a long piece of paper and a pencil in her hand.
“If we get all of the supplies tomorrow,” Lois said as she added to the list she had going, “we can bake the pies on Friday and have them ready for the sale on Saturday morning before the rodeo. People will be driving through. We might need to offer to keep them in the big refrigerator until they drive back through after the rodeo, but we can do that.”
“You’re sure you’re willing to do all this work?” Hannah asked for the third time since they’d sat down for the planning. She still couldn’t believe anyone would go to so much effort to help her and Jeremy. Lois had known them for only a few days. Hannah couldn’t wait to tell Mark about the plan.
“I won’t be doing it alone,” Lois said as she looked up with a smile.
“I’m willing to do everything I can,” Hannah said fervently. “But I’ve never baked a pie before.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Lois said cheerfully. “You’ll do fine. And, you’ll see, there will be others coming to help, too. You’re a hometown girl and Dry Creek folks take care of their own.”
“Oh,” Hannah said. Lois hadn’t lived here more than a year so she didn’t know about Hannah’s past. “I didn’t grow up here. I’ve always been an outsider.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lois said with a frown.
“These kinds of things were always done for the kids who grew up here,” Hannah said. “Not for me. I was adopted.”
Lois was silent and Hannah didn’t have the courage to look at the other woman to see what she was thinking.
“It was fine, though,” Hannah added. “I was grateful for what I had at the Stellings’. At least, when my mom was alive.”
“Sounds like it was a hard time,” Lois said sympathetically and Hannah looked up and nodded.
Hannah didn’t want the other woman to give up on the pie bake sale she was planning, but Hannah felt she should know the score.
“Well, Randy Collins said it would work,” Lois said. “And I think he knows what he’s talking about.”
The idea to have a chiffon pie bake sale had come a few hours ago from the ranch hands who had been having breakfast in the café earlier. It had been Randy’s idea, but all three of them promised to spread the word of the sale around the countryside, especially after Lois estimated she and Hannah could bake two hundred pies. They’d do strawberry, lemon and lime.
“There’s really not much to a chiffon pie,” Lois had assured Hannah when they’d agreed to everything. Breakfast was over and the day had been leaning toward lunch time. Hannah knew the ranch hands were going to need to work late to make up for the time they were taking, and she had appreciated it.
“There’s enough to them to charge twenty-five dollars per pie,” Randy had said firmly at the time. “Don’t take a penny less.”
“But we only charge ten dollars ordinarily,” Lois protested.
At the time, Hannah couldn’t help but notice the slight flush on Lois’s face as she talked with the wrangler.
“Most folks will want to give a little extra to the cause,” Randy had persisted. “We’re just helping them with that. Besides, those pies are worth more than ten dollars.”
Lois beamed. “Really?”
It must be the praise of her pies that had Lois looking ten years younger, Hannah had thought. After sitting with Lois in the kitchen for a half hour now, though, Hannah thought it was the goodness of the woman’s heart that had animated her face.
Lois pulled the back of an order slip out of her apron pocket and laid it on the table.
“Randy and the other two ranch hands gave me their order before they left,” Lois said. “They each bought four pies at twenty-five dollars apiece.”
Lois grinned as she pulled the roll of bills out of her apron pocket. “Randy said my pies would sell for that much easy on the streets of New York. He said people would eat a slice while they drank those fancy coffees.”
“Randy seems to know a lot about pies,” Hannah said with a smile.
Lois laughed. “He might at that. He’s eaten a lot of them. And he reminded me that we do include a tin pie plate,” Lois added. “We don’t charge for that. It’s reusable, too.
“Anyway, the three hundred dollars we got from Randy and his friends will help us order supplies,” Lois said.
“That’s not going to buy enough supplies to make all those pies,” Hannah said.
“I’m sure our boss, Linda, will let us use her supplies,” Lois said. “And I have enough in savings to pay for everything if she doesn’t.”
“The first money from the pies will go to reimbursing whoever buys the supplies,” Hannah said.
“We’ll talk about that after we sell those pies,” Lois said as she stood. “Someone’s coming.”
It took Hannah another second, but then she heard the sound of an oncoming vehicle, too. While the person driving that vehicle might be going to the hardware store or the church, the odds were good that they would be stopping at the café.
Hannah walked out to the front of the café as Mark walked into the place carrying a furry bundle.
“You have Jeremy’s cat,” Hannah exclaimed in astonishment. “How’d you manage that? The beast never leaves his side.”
Mark didn’t appear any more pleased to be carrying the cat than Callie looked to be carried. When they were inside and Mark had closed the door, he released his hold and the cat jumped to the floor.
“I don’t think the cat should be here,” Hannah said. “In most cafés where I’ve worked, the health inspectors will grade a place down if they allow pets inside the main area.”
“Callie’s already been in here,” Lois reminded everyone as she walked out from the kitchen. “We disinfect the floors every night anyway.”
“I was just hoping to buy a can of tuna,” Mark said as he reached for the cat and lifted her up into his arms. “I’ll keep her from parading around.”
“I’ll get a can,” Lois said as she started back toward the kitchen.
“Tuna?” Hannah asked, feeling like she was missing some steps in this story. That cat barely tolerated strangers. Hannah wasn’t even allowed to hold her without enduring the threat of claws. “How did you end up with Callie?”
“She wanted my sandwich,” Mark said as though that explained everything. “Until I pulled off the road on the way back and she saw that I mix pickles and onion with my tuna. Then she didn’t want to have anything to do with it. She probably wasn’t too impressed with the mayonnaise, either.”
“Jeremy has some food for her over at Mrs. Hargrove’s,” Hannah said. She was beginning to understand. “But you don’t have to bribe the cat with tuna. She can’t coax Jeremy to accept you.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Mark said as Lois returned and gave him a small can that had the lid removed. “This is a cat that knows how to get her way.”
With that, Mark turned and took Callie out of the café. Hannah stepped over to the window so she could see Mark sit on the café steps. He set the opened can of tuna on the ground and let Callie down. The cat didn’t even bother to turn and give him a thank-you glance. Instead, she went directly to the can and started to eat like she’d missed a week of meals.
Hannah turned and saw that Lois had come to stand beside her.
“That man is trying awful hard to get Jeremy’s attention,” Hannah said.
Lois smiled. “It’s you he’s trying to impress.”
Hannah shook her head. “How can I encourage any man unless Jeremy accepts him?”
“Maybe Jeremy will follow your lead,” Lois said. “He’s not a difficult child to please, but he sure doesn’t want to go against you.”
With that, the waitress walked away from the window and started back to the kitchen. Before she got to that doorway, though, she turned and said, “Just don’t let Mark get away if he’s the one you want in your heart.”
Hannah didn’t answer. She didn’t dare rely on her heart. Emotions had not served her well in the past. She’d been so young when she loved Mark before.
Dear Lord, she prayed. Give me wisdom in this.
Then she heard Lois come back from the kitchen with a broom in her hand.
“It’s been too long since we swept off the front steps,” Lois said as she held out the scruffy-looking thing to Hannah.
“Okay,” Hannah said as she grabbed the broom and the excuse Lois gave her before heading for the door.