Mark had been so full of joy over his pitiful breakfast the next morning that his father kept frowning at him. Allie wasn’t there to fix their eggs this morning so Mark was scraping some scrambled eggs into a bowl that was sitting in the middle of the table. He wore a dish towel tied around his waist for an apron. Four slices of nearly burnt toast sat on a plate with a jar of honey close by. Mark had set a whole red apple on the table at the last minute in an effort to balance out the meal before pulling out his chair and sitting down.
“You haven’t found one of my old whiskey bottles, have you?” his father asked, looking skeptical as he walked over to the table.
“Allie got rid of those years ago,” Mark replied cheerfully.
“Then what’s wrong?” his father mumbled as he sat down in his usual place. “Besides the toast, of course. It’s so burnt I doubt even the chickens would eat it. It should be buried instead of served up with coffee.” His father looked around. “There’s no coffee.”
“I know,” Mark said. “We’re out.”
At that announcement, his father looked at him in astonishment. “You’re not going back into that coma, are you? You never forget to get coffee.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Mark assured him breezily. “I’m just excited because I’m a father.”
“Well, I know that,” his father said grumpily. “The whole county knows that by now. It’s been four years.”
“No,” Mark said. “I mean, I’m going to be a father. Jeremy approves. I’ll take him fishing. Get him a pony someday when he’s older. And, until then, maybe let him ride a horse sometimes.” Mark stopped and looked at his father. “Whatever happened to that child’s saddle we have?”
“It’s up in the hayloft just waiting for the boy,” his father said, sounding as excited now as Mark was. “Does that mean he’s going to come visit us some more?”
“I believe so,” Mark said. “Of course, I haven’t talked to Hannah yet.”
“Oh,” his father said and the light left his eyes. “Don’t you think you should clear it with her before you make any plans? The mother rules in cases like this.”
“She already implied he could come someday,” Mark said. “But I’ll talk to her today and make sure.”
“You going in to help make them pies?” his father asked as he gingerly picked up a slice of the cold, dark toast.
Mark nodded. “I figure I can do whatever needs to be done to help.”
“Maybe you could bring us out an apple pie for tomorrow’s breakfast,” his father suggested hopefully.
“The pies are all chiffon,” Mark said.
“Oh,” his father said stoically as he bit into the piece of toast. “I heard someplace that burnt bread is good for the stomach. Like a tonic.”
“I’ve never heard that,” Mark said. “Don’t think it’s true, either.”
“Just leave me with my illusions, boy,” his father said as he took another bite.
Mark laughed. He was a father. Nothing could dim his happiness on this day. Unless, of course, he thought as he came down to earth with a thud—the leukemia. And then there was the fear that Hannah could move away and take Jeremy with her.
Mark reached out and took a piece of that toast. For the first time, he understood fathers who tried to take the custody of their children from their mothers. He wanted to be a big part of Jeremy’s life. How could he do that if Hannah moved far away?
* * *
The café was packed with volunteers when Hannah got to work. The sun was just starting to come up. The day was dry and warm. She hadn’t slept well, partly because Mark had come over last night after dinner to tuck Jeremy in for the night. They’d been at the small house, the one she was starting to think of as hers. Jeremy had been delighted to have his newly minted father there and took a half hour to tell Mark all about his nighttime rituals. Many of them had been invented on the spot, but Mark played along. When he finally had Jeremy exhausted and in bed, Mark stayed to help her with the dishes.
“You shouldn’t have to do this after working all day,” Mark had declared as he set the clean plates to dry on the old tile cabinet next to the sink. He’d already settled her at one of the kitchen chairs he’d brought over in his pickup and demanded she watch and not lift a finger.
“If you don’t work, you don’t eat,” she’d quoted some long-forgotten homily to him as she leaned her elbows on the table he had also delivered when he came.
Mark made a face at her then and they both laughed.
The lightness of the moment had lingered with Hannah long after Mark had left and she had crawled into bed beside her son. She still had a trace of the happiness in her mind as she stepped into the café a moment ago.
When she looked around at the volunteers, Hannah noticed the pattern of things. Her boss, Linda Enger, was there and had roped off a few tables for customers. The rest of the tables were designated by different colored tablecloths as pie-making stations. A box-like crushing machine rested on one table along with a few dozen boxes of graham crackers. Boxes of fresh strawberries and a mound of lemons took up another.
As Hannah stood there, Lois walked over with a bag of Granny Smith apples balanced on her hip.
“I didn’t know there were apple chiffon pies,” Hannah said.
Lois smiled. “There aren’t. Mrs. Hargrove is going to give me a lesson so I can make regular crust. I want to make an apple pie and the only crusts I can do are the graham cracker kind.” Lois paused and got a determined look on her face. “She won’t do that until all the chiffon pies are made, though. We have an important mission today.”
With that, the woman took a step closer to Hannah and put one arm around her in a hug. “How are you holding up?”
Hannah blinked back a tear. “Staying strong for Jeremy.”
“Atta girl,” Lois muttered in her ear.
“And praying,” Hannah added in a whisper. “With all my heart.”
“Me, too,” Lois answered softly. “I’ve never prayed before, but I’m hoping God listens to me now. That boy of yours is special.”
Hannah could only nod her head.
Then Lois stepped away and the work began in earnest. Hannah found herself drafted to the eggbeater table. The other one at her table, Randy, the ranch hand, was thoroughly splattered with egg white, beaten and unbeaten, by the time he finished six hours later. Hannah refused to look in the mirror even though someone—she thought it was Lois—had set up a place for everyone to check their faces before they left the café. Instead, she sat at one of the chairs that had been pushed to the side of the room.
Within minutes, the tables were cleared of their various utensils and covered with chiffon pies that were set to cool.
“Two hundred and eleven of them,” Lois announced to the still-full room.
The place erupted with cheers and people slapping each other on the back in congratulations.
“I must have cracked a thousand eggs,” Mark muttered as he sat down in the chair beside Hannah. He’d been at the table on the other side of the room from her, but he’d come over several times during the day to say a few pleasant words.
“How are you doing?” Mark asked.
“Ready to sit down, that’s for sure,” Hannah replied. She was a little distracted because she saw Mark’s eyes continually going to her chin. She figured she had some spattered chiffon filling there so she reached up to take a swipe. “Gone?”
Mark shook his head. Then he put his finger a little to the side of her chin and rubbed at something. “There, I got it.”
She appreciated his help, but he didn’t remove his hand. Instead he cupped her face gently. She felt the heat of his action inside her and it steadied something.
Mark leaned over and whispered in her ear. “I’m here for you.”
“I know,” Hannah muttered, and she did.
“I’ll be by tonight to tuck Jeremy into bed again,” he said. “That’s if it’s all right with you.”
She nodded. “He’d like that.”
“I’m bringing over a love seat I found in the attic, too,” Mark said.
Just then Hannah heard a stir of excitement in the room and looked up. Lois was walking from the kitchen, one hand held high with something covered by a white dish towel.
“Attention, please,” Lois said as she walked into the room, pausing near where Hannah and Mark sat.
Lois turned to face the room, her back to Hannah and Mark.
“Everyone needs to know there’s a humble man here who gave us the idea of doing this pie sale.” Lois paused, her eyes searching the people assembled. “There he is. Mr. Randy Collins. Come up here, Randy.”
People clapped as they all turned their heads around, looking for the wrangler. A pink-faced Randy walked over to Lois.
“As a thank-you, I’ve made you an apple pie,” Lois said as she took the dish towel off and revealed a large pie with a golden-brown crust.
Hannah could smell the baked apple scent from where she sat.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Randy muttered softly as he shuffled his feet. Then he smiled at Lois and said loud enough for everyone to hear, “But I’m sure glad you did and I thank you mightily.”
As he took the pie, everyone applauded. People went back to finishing the cleanup for the day, but Hannah and Mark were close enough to be witness to the long looks between Randy and Lois.
“I heard apple is your favorite,” Lois finally said.
Randy blushed at that, going from pink to red. “I like all the pies you make.”
Hannah was suddenly aware that Mark had taken her hand gently into his and was holding it as they watched their two friends.
Lois and Randy were silent for another minute, just looking at each other. Then she said softly, “Mrs. Hargrove told me that apple pie is the way to your heart, though.”
Hannah felt the pressure on her hand as Mark squeezed it. She glanced over. He was as tense as she was.
A slow grin grew on Randy’s face. “You don’t need a pie to get to my heart. I mean—” he took a deep breath “—would you do me the honor of allowing me to take you to dinner some night?”
The squeeze on Hannah’s hand intensified, but she scarcely noticed. She wasn’t even sure she breathed as she watched.
Lois nodded, looking Randy in the eyes with a smile of her own. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
With that, the couple joined their hands and walked to the kitchen.
“There’re going in there to kiss each other, aren’t they?” Hannah turned to Mark in excitement. “Where no one can see them?”
Mark nodded, grinning. “That’s my guess.”
“I can see why,” Hannah said, keeping her voice low. “This place is full of gossips.”
Mark’s grin faded and he studied her briefly. “Is that what happened with you? Did people say something unkind when you were pregnant?”
His jaw clenched.
Hannah thought a moment. “I didn’t give them a chance. I left before anyone knew because I’d seen how they were when I moved here.”
His eyes grew puzzled. “Everyone was curious when you came, I’ll give you that.” He paused. “We hadn’t had any adopted kids in our class. We’d had a few foster kids in the school and some of them were wild, but we didn’t know much about adoption.”
“Everyone was standing and looking at me that first day I came to school.” She could still picture it and sometimes did when she had a bad dream.
“We’d just gotten up to say the Pledge of Allegiance,” Mark responded in surprise. “We didn’t know you were going to come into the room. We all had our mouths ready to start and the door slammed open. We were surprised. That’s all.”
“Really?” Hannah said, thinking back. Had things been the way she thought at the time?
At that point, the pastor of the community stood and called for quiet.
“Let’s join hearts and hands to pray before we leave,” he said. The crowd quieted and reached out to their neighbors.
Mark took Hannah’s hand and curled it inside his own. She liked the feeling. The pastor was brief and Hannah felt the love in the room as he spoke. Everyone, it seemed, cared about Jeremy.
“We should go say thank you to everyone,” Mark suggested after the pastor said his amen.
Mark was right, Hannah thought. People were going to leave to go home soon. She wouldn’t have had the courage to go to the door and thank them if Mark hadn’t been at her side.
She was glad when she got there, though. Every person had a kind word for her and Jeremy, including a few women who had been her classmates when she had been living here. She had never thought any of them cared about her and would have been nervous even introducing Jeremy to them.
“I have a son about the same age as your Jeremy,” one of her classmates said. “When your son feels up to it, let’s get together. They can sit and watch some cartoons if Jeremy’s not up for more. My son likes the guy who climbs walls like a spider.”
Hannah grinned. “Jeremy would be in his element with your son, then. He’s a fan of that one, too. And Davy Crockett for some reason. And any hero who has a horse or who flies.”
The other woman laughed. “I have a feeling we need to plan for an extended visit.”
It didn’t take long for everyone to leave the café, but the outpouring of help changed Hannah’s feelings about the town of Dry Creek. She no longer felt like she was on the outside, looking in.
“They care about me,” she said softly to Mark. “I never knew.”
He smiled and nodded as he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.
“Add me to the top of the list of those who care,” he said as they walked to the door. Once they were outside, they headed toward her car.
“Remember I’ll be by your house after supper to say good night to Jeremy,” Mark said. Then he pointed to his pickup. In the bed of the vehicle, she could see a brown leather love seat that looked like it had seen some wear.
“Belonged to my uncle,” Mark said in explanation. “I thought you might be able to get some use of it. He’s living in Havre these days and said he didn’t need anything that’s in the attic.”
“The same uncle who had the bed?” Hannah asked.
Mark nodded.
“Tell him thank you for me,” Hannah said.
She thought about that uncle as she drove Jeremy home. Not only did her son have a father now, he also had a great uncle he’d never met. And two grandfathers he knew instead of just one. And his aunt Allie.
“You know, a lot of people love you,” Hannah said as she looked down at Jeremy.
His face was pale and he looked tired. But he gave a big smile at her words.
Moving back to Dry Creek had been the right decision, Hannah told herself. She didn’t know what was going to happen with Jeremy this coming week, but she did know they were home.