Mark drove his pickup onto the Stelling ranch a little before six the next morning, Tuesday. It was still dark outside so he couldn’t see enough of the sky to judge whether it would rain or not. What he did know was that he had to finish the combining as soon as he could. He had passed Hannah’s car outside Dry Creek when he was coming this way. Glad to see her, he stopped to roll down his window and say good morning.
Hannah greeted him, but looked distracted and said she needed to get to work. She had her father tucked into the passenger seat and a sleepy Jeremy in the back seat. Even the cat had left the ranch for the day and was curled up on Jeremy’s shoulders. Mark suspected his son was using the cat as a pillow, but the feline didn’t seem to mind.
Mark decided now was not the time to ask Hannah if she had decided whether he could go with her Wednesday when she took their son to the doctor. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail and her red T-shirt on. Her eyes were not puffy from crying so he figured she was okay. He wished her well and she drove away. Mark could hear a rattle that told him her old car needed a tune-up, though. He’d add that to the list of things he’d do once he finished the harvesting.
“She won’t find me so easy to send away,” Mark said aloud as he squared his shoulders. No one was there to answer him back, but it didn’t diminish his satisfaction. He liked doing things for her and he intended to do them.
He had known when he left his family’s ranch that he’d be too early to go out into the fields, but he’d come over anyway so he’d have time to work on the lock for that small house. He’d rummaged through the tack room in the Nelson barn last night and found a used lock and key combination that he thought would work. They had obviously been taken off some broken-down door decades ago, but locks hadn’t changed much in all that time and, as far as he knew, keys were ageless.
Just knowing some things stayed the same made him feel optimistic about the future. He hadn’t been left behind that much after being in limbo for those four years.
He was whistling as he pulled his pickup to a stop beside the main house and stepped down. Some twenty minutes later, he had the lock on the door and was trying the attached key when he heard a pickup pull into the yard. He stuck his head out and saw Randy Collins walking up to the main house. Randy was the only paid wrangler on the Nelson horse ranch and, since it was Tuesday, he was likely on his way into Miles City for ranch supplies.
“Hey!” Mark called as he stepped out of the house so he could get Randy’s attention. “I’m over here.”
The other man changed course and started walking toward Mark. “I’m glad to see you.”
Mark noticed Randy’s limp was giving him some trouble. A medium-sized man, the cowboy was bow-legged and as plain as they come. His face was clean-shaven, but had a flatness about it that made him look sturdy rather than handsome, especially when he wore his usual Stetson. Randy instinctively knew how to get a horse to do what he wanted, though, and he was loyal to his friends. In short, he was an old-fashioned cowboy.
Mark patiently waited for the other man to get within easy talking distance. There was no sense in them yelling at each other across the empty yard.
“Lois—” Randy managed to say when he arrived. He was breathing hard from hurrying. Mark knew he meant the waitress at the Dry Creek Café since she was the only Lois around. Besides, Randy had had a crush on the woman for over a year now and was, in his mind, subtly courting her.
“She asked if I would get some groceries for Hannah and her boy,” he said once he got his wind back. “I stopped as the café was opening. Hannah gave five dollars to Lois, who gave it to me.”
Mark figured Randy was making it clear that he wasn’t doing the favor for Hannah. The man knew how Mark felt and wouldn’t want to put himself forward with a woman Mark had strong feelings for.
“Hannah said she wanted some kale and popsicles,” Randy continued. “Red and purple. The popsicles, not the kale. And a couple cans of tomato soup.”
“That’s it?” Mark asked incredulously. “That isn’t enough to keep the two of them fed, and then there’s Mr. Stelling, too.” Mark pulled out the wallet he kept in his shirt pocket and handed two twenty-dollar bills to Randy. “Get them a package of hamburger meat and some vegetables. Maybe apples, too,” he added.
Mark wasn’t sure what his son should be eating, but everyone said apples were good for you. “Maybe carrots for vegetables and a few big potatoes for baking.” He paused. “Didn’t Hannah say she wanted anything else? Kale isn’t enough to make a meal.”
“I offered to give her the chiffon pie I’d ordered for today,” Randy said, his broad face pinking at the words. “Lois made a lemon one. That’s her specialty.”
“You ordered the whole pie?” Mark asked and then grinned. He knew it was the entire thing because Randy had been buying as many of Lois’s pies as he could. “Afraid some of the hands from the other ranches will come in and buy a piece?”
Randy shook his head. “I wouldn’t mind if they bought some pie, but they all seem to want to sit around and talk to Lois while they eat it.” He was silent for a minute. “The truth is, I’m getting kind of tired of chiffon pie. I always preferred apple anyway.”
Mark knew that fact from the pies stacked in the refrigerator in the bunkhouse that he and Randy shared. “Wouldn’t it be easier just to tell Lois how you feel?”
“I’m working up to it,” Randy said defensively. “A man can’t just go up and ask a woman to marry him without some...time.”
“Maybe not, but you could ask her out to dinner,” Mark said.
All of the pink had drained from Randy’s face and he looked white. “She might say no.” His voice was low. “She hasn’t said yes to anyone else and she’s been asked. Lots of times. And if she won’t say yes to Jacob Marsh—and him all duded up in that new Western outfit of his—what chance does a man like me have?”
“Well, then, just—” Mark started and stopped himself. He realized he had absolutely no idea what Randy should do. In years past, Mark would have suggested winning a rodeo or dazzling a woman with some fancy moves on a dance floor. Back then, he’d outshone Jacob Marsh. Not that Mark ever really wanted anyone but Hannah. Still, he was popular at dances and he’d heard rumors of girls who wanted to date him.
“Just be yourself,” Mark finished.
“That’s what I’m being,” Randy protested. “Steady and slow.”
Mark nodded. He wasn’t sure that was a winning strategy, but he didn’t want to discourage the man. “Well, she’ll like it when you get groceries for Hannah. Did you bring one of the freezer bags?” The grocery store was in Miles City so when they bought ice cream or anything frozen, they needed to zip it in an insulated freezer bag and put it in a cooler with ice so it would arrive in Dry Creek without melting.
“I’ve got one in the pickup,” Randy said with a nod. “For the popsicles.”
“Well, you’re ready, then,” Mark said.
Randy just stood there a minute.
“I just wanted you to know I’m not moving in on your girl,” Randy finally said as he turned to go. “Your Hannah is real nice, but it’s Lois for me.”
“Thank you,” Mark said as he watched his friend walk away. He wondered if Lois even knew what she was missing by not noticing Randy. He was a good, solid man who would treat a wife like a queen. But then, maybe Lois did want someone with more style. For all he knew, she was holding out for a banker. Or a doctor.
Mark marveled that he’d ever thought he’d known anything about romance. He’d never courted Hannah. They’d been such good friends that the other feelings just sort of snuck up on them. He wondered now if that hadn’t been a mistake. Maybe if they’d officially dated they would have something more defined when they did come together.
As he listened to Randy drive his pickup away from the Stelling house, Mark turned and started walking back to the small house where Hannah and Jeremy would be staying now that Mr. Stelling didn’t need to be awakened every few hours. Mark should be getting out to the field, but he intended to wash the one window in the run-down place that wasn’t boarded over.
He turned the light switch on when he stepped inside the little house this time. Some boxes and suitcases were piled in a corner of the living room. There was no furniture. He hadn’t realized that Hannah didn’t have much, but she had said she moved everything in her car and there was not a lot here. Maybe she’d sold everything before she left her old place. He did notice a deflated air mattress that she must have used that first night she’d stayed here.
He decided he would go over to his family’s house after he finished the harvesting and bring back a cattle truck loaded up with whatever he could find. There were pieces of furniture in the attic that hadn’t been used in years. He was sure there were a table and chair set up there and a double bedstead. He’d find a mattress to go with it if he had to bring the one off his own bed. In the meantime, he’d take care of that window. It looked like it hadn’t been washed in years and it made the inside of the house look gloomy.
* * *
When Hannah left the café at three o’clock her feet were tired, but she’d had a good day. The café was open for dinner only on the weekends so she hadn’t had to work late, but business had been brisk for lunch. She always felt better when a café had enough customers that she knew her work was required. She’d quit a job once because she found out the owner was keeping her on as an act of charity after business declined. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case in Dry Creek. She could barely keep up with the requests for pieces of lemon chiffon pie. She’d been surprised it was so popular with the ranch hands around here. But Lois said they always came in for lunch just so they could have her pie. When she’d lived here, Hannah remembered the work crews from the ranches eating out of a hot thermos and having a sandwich, but she supposed things changed even in a quiet town like Dry Creek.
Fortunately, Hannah did not have to drive far to pick up Jeremy and her father. Mrs. Hargrove’s two-story house, surrounded by a sturdy white fence, was only a quarter of the mile down the paved road from the café. Of course, nothing was far from anything else in this town. There were no sidewalks. The whole of Dry Creek wasn’t more than a dozen clapboard houses, the café where she worked, a hardware store and a church. The gas station was past everything else on the opposite side of town and she’d heard rumors that someone had bought the old Keifer place down the road and was turning it into a cozy bed-and-breakfast.
She remembered as a teenager that everyone in her class at school complained nothing ever happened around Dry Creek. She’d nod her head when the others said this, but secretly she was glad. She’d already had enough happenings to last a lifetime by then. She soaked up the peace.
She parked her car along Mrs. Hargrove’s fence and got out of the vehicle. Her favorite place in this town had always been Mrs. Hargrove’s kitchen. It had a row of paned windows with white ruffled curtains. One summer she’d helped the older woman make chokecherry jelly for a whole week. Hannah had never had so much fun, squishing the juice out of the cooked berries, making labels for the sparkling jars of preserves and then tallying up the final count.
The older woman must have been listening for her because she opened the front door of the house before Hannah even got partway up the walk. Mrs. Hargrove had a butcher’s apron covering her checked housedress and her gray hair was twisted into a serviceable bun. She’s gained some weight since Hannah had lived in this tight-knit community, but she still seemed to bustle when she moved.
“Did you have a good day?” the older woman asked with a smile on her face. She had stepped outside and closed the door behind her.
Hannah noticed that the smile didn’t reach the other woman’s eyes.
“Is something wrong?” Hannah asked.
“I’m worried about Jeremy,” Mrs. Hargrove said, her voice little more than a whisper. “But I didn’t want to say anything where he could hear me. Children are so sensitive about things like that.”
Hannah braced herself. She knew what was coming. Worries had swirled around in her head all day while she worked. Last night, Jeremy had seemed more frail than usual.
“Most boys his age don’t want to take a nap,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “But he not only went to sleep willingly right after an early lunch, he slept so long I thought I should wake him so he’d be ready when you came. But it wasn’t easy to do. I think something might be wrong.”
Hannah took a ragged breath. She hadn’t told anyone except Mark, but she couldn’t keep it in any longer. “There is. The doctors think he has leukemia and also a cancerous tumor in the bone of his leg.”
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Hargrove pressed her hand to her mouth briefly. “The poor boy.”
“I’m taking him to a specialist in Billings tomorrow,” Hannah said. “The local doctor where I used to live finally made the diagnosis, but he said they have experimental treatments that might make a big difference. This specialist is supposed to be the best one in the whole state. I’m counting on him to know what to do.”
The words had spilled out of Hannah in a torrent and she didn’t realize until she finished that Mrs. Hargrove had stepped close and enfolded her in a hug. The older woman smelled of cinnamon and roses.
“I’m going to pray for you both right now,” Mrs. Hargrove said in Hannah’s ear, and then she began to call down God’s mercy on her.
Hannah didn’t recall having anyone ever pray for her in such low, soothing tones. She felt warm all over. The older woman talked to God like He was standing right beside them, and Hannah liked to believe He was. Mrs. Hargrove had always told her Sunday school classes that God loved them deeply and was in the room with them.
Hannah had to blink when Mrs. Hargrove said her “Amen.”
Then the woman stood looking at her. “Is your father going with you to the doctor?”
Hannah shook her head. “He doesn’t know about Jeremy. And he’s not really too comforting when someone’s sick.”
“I know.” Mrs. Hargrove pursed her lips. “He had a hard time when your mother died. But you need somebody with you. I have a doctor’s appointment myself, but I can cancel it and—”
“No,” Hannah said. “You’ve already done so much. Jeremy and I will make out fine.”
“But what if the doctor wants to do some tests on Jeremy?” Mrs. Hargrove asked. “The boy might need someone to hold him in the back seat while you drive home.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Hannah said. The older woman was right. Any number of things could happen. After all, the doctor had recommended she have some popsicles on hand for when Jeremy got home from the appointment. It was one of his favorite treats. “Don’t worry. I do have someone to go with us.”
Hannah hadn’t decided until just this minute to accept Mark’s offer, and it left her feeling breathless.
“Lois?” Mrs. Hargrove asked, still looked troubled.
“No.” Hannah shook her head. “It’s Mark Nelson.”
Relief flooded the other woman’s face. “That will be fine, then. He’ll see to everything.”
It didn’t take long after that for Jeremy and her father to come out to the car and climb in. Her father had carried out the box of groceries that Lois had arranged to have her friend Randy pick up for them in Miles City.
“That can’t all be kale and popsicles,” Hannah protested when she saw how heavy the box was.
“It’s not,” Mrs. Hargrove said. She’d come out on the porch carrying a small ice chest. “Mark Nelson had asked Randy to add a few things to the box—which we kept refrigerated so it’s all cold. And this is for the popsicles.”
“But I didn’t give him enough money,” Hannah protested as she automatically took the cooler. “He can’t have gotten all this.”
She was sure she’d seen a couple of packages of meat and a carton of milk.
The older woman shrugged. “You’ll have to talk to Mark about that. Randy said everything was paid for.”
By that time, her father had already stowed the box in her trunk, so there was nothing to do but to set the ice chest back there, too, and take it all home with them.
The gravel roads spreading out from Dry Creek were dusty and Hannah drove slowly. These were the kind of roads not meant for speed. Besides, she was in no hurry to get back to her father’s place. He would not need her to watch over him tonight, and she hadn’t had time to fix up the small house where she and Jeremy would be staying. She didn’t want her son to be surrounded by ugliness on the night before his doctor’s appointment. She would have to think of something.
She had a couple of comic book character sheets for his bed. Maybe she could hang them over the walls. She kept thinking her son would find new cartoon characters to enjoy, but he seemed to stick with the same old-fashioned ones. She had begun to wonder if this was good or bad. Maybe he was afraid to look for new heroes.