Dry Creek Daddy

by Janet Tronstad

  Hannah was surprised the woman wasn’t looking at her and Mark in shock, but she didn’t appear at all rattled by the kiss she’d just witnessed.

  “He’s only going to kiss your Mommy that way,” Mrs. Hargrove added, leaning toward Jeremy and smoothing down his cowlick.

  Hannah decided Mark must agree with her that Mrs. Hargrove was being kind because he stood up, took a step and kissed the older woman on her forehead.

  “Oh,” she said. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Mark said as Mrs. Hargrove’s face got pink.

  “It might be different,” he said. “But no less sincere.” Then he bowed.

  It took a minute for Jeremy to finish giggling.

  “I didn’t know you found yourself a grandma,” Mark said when things quieted down.

  Jeremy nodded and all traces of laughter were gone. “Grandmas make cookies for little boys. Chocolate chip ones. They’re my favorites.”

  “That’s very helpful,” Mark said, matching her son’s serious tone.

  Hannah took a deep breath. She knew Mark was leading up to his announcement and she suddenly wanted everything to go perfectly for him and Jeremy. She might not be ready to trust anyone inside her heart right now, but she wanted Jeremy to have all the love in the world. She supposed mothers were made that way—they needed to be strong to protect their children, but they wanted the softness for their children that they dared not allow themselves to feel sometimes.

  “Now that you have a grandmother and a mother,” Mark said, trying so hard to sound casual that Hannah could tell he was nervous, “what would you think about having a father, too? Like me.”

  Hannah felt her stomach clench. Jeremy was sitting there, looking at Mark like he couldn’t understand the question.

  “I don’t have a father,” Jeremy said, his voice clear. “I have a mommy.”

  Hannah noticed then that her son was curling his fist around those comic books he’d brought with him.

  “Most little boys have a mother and a father,” Hannah said softly, thinking that perhaps Jeremy just needed permission to be enthused at the prospect. “Mark wants to be a good father.”

  But her son shook his head vehemently and climbed down from his chair. He had the same stubborn look on his face that she had seen on Mark’s countless times as they were growing up in this town.

  “I don’t need a father,” Jeremy said, facing the whole table. There was no trace of a smile on his face any longer. “I just need my mother.”

  The whole café was quiet and Hannah realized everyone there had been following the conversation. Not that there were many folks there. Lois and the three ranch hands had no doubt heard it all, but that was only four other people. Even as Hannah told herself that, she realized that everyone within miles would know this story before supper. People probably hadn’t stopped gossiping about why she’d come back yet and everyone knew Mark was Jeremy’s father. They were likely all waiting for some word on what was going to happen with the three of them.

  Hannah looked over at Mark. She had never intended to embarrass him. It hadn’t occurred to her that Jeremy wouldn’t welcome a father in his life. He had seemed to like Mark. In fact, she would have guessed he liked Mark more than he did any other man he had met.

  “Jeremy just needs some time,” Mrs. Hargrove said softly as she stood to follow after the boy. Jeremy was already reaching for the door handle. The compassion was evident on the older woman’s face.

  “It’s my fault,” Hannah said as she watched her son leave the café with Mrs. Hargrove trailing behind him.

  Mark looked over at her. “And just how is it your fault?”

  His voice was stark and his question incredulous.

  “He’s taken his cues from me,” Hannah whispered, realizing as she said it that it was true. She was afraid to trust anyone and her son had learned to live the same way she did. She was polite, but she never let anyone close. Not anymore.

  “Oh, so you don’t have any use for me, either,” Mark said bitterly. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  “No,” she protested. She didn’t know how she’d gotten trapped in this moment. “You’ve been so helpful to me. You painted that ceiling for me and Jeremy. You brought us a bed. You went with us to the doctor’s visit. You even did my father’s harvesting.”

  Hannah knew she was leaving out some of Mark’s kind acts, but he was looking at her like none of what he had done mattered.

  “I’m so sorry,” she finished. “He needs to think about this. I’ll talk to him.”

  Some strong emotion flashed over Mark’s face. “You can’t force the boy to accept me.”

  Hannah looked around her, seeking an answer from somewhere. That’s when she noticed the others in the café must have tiptoed out the back door in the kitchen, because she and Mark were alone in the main part of the restaurant.

  “He just doesn’t know what a father is,” Hannah said, pleading for extra time for them both. “He hasn’t had a father.”

  The emotions seemed to have left Mark.

  “He’s always had me,” Mark said softly as he stood up. “And so have you. I might not have been here to help you, but in my heart I have always cared about you.”

  The words warmed Hannah until she realized the sound of defeat that lingered after he’d finished speaking them.

  “I appreciate that,” she said as she forced back her tears. She meant to say more, but she paused because she didn’t know what exactly she wanted to convey to Mark.

  He looked at her a moment and then turned, his shoulders slumped. She impulsively rose to go after him, but she didn’t follow through. Before she knew it, he was gone.

  The café grew cold as she stood there. She realized she had just received what she wanted. She didn’t need to worry about being left by Mark because she’d left him. She was standing strong and not relying on anyone, but that meant she didn’t have anyone beside her, either.

  She listened to the sounds of Mark’s pickup backing away from the café. Finally, she heard the door to the kitchen open. Hannah turned and saw Lois coming toward her with a tray.

  “I thought you’d like a cup of hot tea,” Lois said. “It always settles my nerves.”

  “Thank you,” Hannah whispered as she walked over to a different table and sat down. She’d probably never sit at the table by the door again. If she did, she’d find herself remembering the cracks in her heart that had happened as she sat there.

  The tea was spiced and had extra lemon in it. As the sweet flavor comforted her, Hannah watched Lois walk around the café, serving coffee to a rancher who came in every week or so for some of Lois’s chiffon pie.

  “Are you ever lonely?” Hannah asked Lois when the other waitress came over to ask if she wanted more tea.

  Lois nodded. “I’d give anything to have a good man care about me.”

  Hannah looked up at that. “But you have guys flocking in here every day to get a piece of your chiffon pie.”

  Lois shrugged. “Oh, most of them would take me out. Of course, the one I want to ask me out doesn’t, but the others—they just want a good time. And me, I want a home with someone who is in it for thick and thin. Someone who will stand beside me in the hard times. You know what I mean?”

  Hannah nodded. She did know.

  Lois went off to take more coffee to the rancher finishing his breakfast.

  The thing with a cracked heart, Hannah told herself as she finished her tea, was that it did not stop one’s life from going forward. She still had to worry about getting the money for Jeremy’s procedure. She still had to go home tonight and coax her son into talking about why he wasn’t opening his arms to the man who was his father. And, she told herself as the café door opened again, she still had to help Lois serve the people who stopped here to eat.

 
It was going to be a long day, she thought as she stood up.

  Chapter Eleven

  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.