“This has certainly been an eventful evening.”
Meg agreed with a few bobs of her head. “So what do you think of Kent now that you’ve had a chance to get to know him a little better?”
“I think he’s a lonely man.”
“I don’t think he’s lonely.” In fact, Meg doubted that he slept by himself more than a few times a week. It was like Dillon once said: A guy can find a willing woman just about anywhere. And who’d know better than Dillon, that two-timer.
Maybe Kent.
“We’ll have to pray for him.”
“Pray?” Meg found the idea a little weird. “Kent doesn’t need anything from God. He thinks he is a god.”
“But that’s why he’s lonely. Don’t you see? When people fill up themselves with themselves, they’re the most miserable wretches in all the world.” Grams paused. “What hope does he have? That fine-looking body of his might well look like Tom’s in another forty years.”
The sudden mental image of Kent all wrinkly made Meg laugh. “I get the picture.”
But she wasn’t done yet. “Or he might find himself a victim of unfortunate circumstance and wind up like little Cammy Bayer in a wheelchair.”
“Kind of gloom and doom there, Grams.”
“No, just pointing out the need for hope, because I know the One who can provide it. That’s why I mentioned praying for Mr. Baldwin.”
“I get it. I’m not sure if you’re right about Kent, but I understand your reasoning.”
Later that night as she lay in bed, listening to the rain splattering against the rooftop, Meg recalled the words of the poem she’d read earlier in the evening. If she wasn’t mistaken, the first couple of lines went something like: “Being perplexed, I say, Lord, make it right!”
So—could He?
She couldn’t help examining her own life, with its less than perfect past, and Grams’ analogy of Kent’s somehow got folded into the mix. What fine messes people could make of their existences. Determination alone didn’t seem like enough to make a change—make it right.
Was prayer the key to it all? Did it work? Did God really hear mortal man’s requests and deign to do something about them?
She mulled it over awhile longer and then suddenly found herself at the defining moment of faith. It was either true or it wasn’t, and either way, she’d have to believe.
Okay, God. I don’t think I’ve done this before on my own, but…I’m going to pray.
Chapter Fifteen
Cammy’s eyes stuck like glue to Miss Jorgenson as she erased the whiteboard, just the way she did every day after school. Right now she wiped away all the words from social studies. It was the last subject today, and Miss Lawton’s class got to join in. When everyone was quiet, Miss Lawton read a letter from a soldier who was real far away from home. Then they made cards from colored paper for him and all his friends. Miss Jorgenson wrote on the white board: “Thank you for your service to our country.” She said anyone could copy the words down if they didn’t know what else to write. When they were finished with their cards, Miss Lawton said that she’d mail them and that the soldiers would be really glad to get the greetings, even from a bunch of second and third graders. She said that the soldiers might even write back!
Miss Jorgenson moved back and forth as she finished erasing, and Cammy liked the way her brown flowered skirt swirled around her legs. She liked her boots, too. They were wrinkly and soft-looking, like the skin on Mrs. Owens’ bulldog named Buster. Cammy decided that someday she’d wear a pretty outfit like Miss Jorgenson’s. Maybe she’d even be a teacher.
Miss Jorgenson swung around and smiled. “What are you doing this weekend, Cammy?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but the words got stuck in her throat when Mr. Baldwin walked into the room.
“T.G.I.F.,” he said, clapping his hands together. His smile faded a little when he saw Cammy, but it came right back again.
“So how has your first week of school been, young lady?” He had a happy note in his voice.
“Fine.” She couldn’t help smiling back at him.
Mr. Baldwin sat on the corner of Miss Jorgenson’s desk. “Ever been on a rowing machine, Cammy?”
She shook her head.
“Well, then, you’re in for a treat. The school just purchased two rowing machines. We’re going to have rowing contests. Boys against girls.”
“Girls’ll win!”
“We’ll see.”
“I can be a cheerleader for ’em while I watch.”
Mr. Baldwin’s smile grew, but his eyes got smaller as he looked at her hard. “You know, Cammy, you can do more than just cheer. Rowing is something you can do. It’d be good exercise. Would you like to give it a try?”
“Okay!” An excited feeling filled her chest. She hardly ever got to play games with the other kids unless they were spelling or math races. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Great. I’ll talk to your dad.”
“Promise?”
“Of course.”
“Daddy’ll be here in a few minutes.” Cammy hoped he’d hurry up.
“In that case, I’ll wait.”
Cammy’s heart beat faster. A rowing machine. She wasn’t sure what one was, exactly, but if she could help the girls beat the boys, it would be so much fun.
She saw Mr. Baldwin glance over his shoulder at Miss Jorgenson, but she didn’t seem to notice. She sat down in Dustin Baker’s seat since Mr. Baldwin’s backside was taking up most of her desk.
“So,” Miss Jorgenson looked at Cammy, “you were going to tell me what you’re doing this weekend.”
Mr. Baldwin answered. “I’m driving to my sister’s place in Lexington. Would you like to come along, Meg?”
“No, I’ve got plans. Thanks.”
“Hanging out with your grandparents?”
Cammy watched Miss Jorgenson’s cheeks turn as red as candy apples.
“If you must know, I’m going horseback riding with my sister tomorrow, and then I’m attending a baby shower with Leah on Sunday afternoon.”
Cammy perked up. “Is it for Jenny Washborne?”
“Yes, it is.”
“She goes to our church.”
“That’s right. She does.” Miss Jorgenson’s red spots started fading and she smiled.
“Way too much excitement for me,” Mr. Baldwin said. He sounded like he was kidding, but Cammy wasn’t sure. “I’m just going to a cocktail party tomorrow and hobnobbing with Lexington’s most affluent people.”
“What’s a cocktail party?” Cammy had never heard of them before. But Aunt Debbie went to a candle party once and another time she had a makeup party at her house.
“It’s a fancy get-together,” Miss Jorgenson explained. “People get all dressed up and eat itty-bitty meatballs on toothpicks.”
Mr. Baldwin laughed, and his big voice filled up the whole classroom. “So I gather you’d rather be horseback riding than hobnobbing, huh, Meg?”
She shrugged. “I’m not a good hobnobber.”
“I think you underestimate yourself.”
Miss Jorgenson lifted her shoulders up and down like she didn’t care one way or another.
“Well…” He slapped the tops of his legs. “I’d better be on my way.” He stood. “I’ll see you Monday. Have a good weekend, ladies.”
He pointed a long, tanned finger at Miss Jorgenson and winked. Then he looked at Cammy. “Bye.”
“B—Bye.” Sadness covered her like a blanket. She couldn’t believe he was walking away.
She looked at Miss Jorgenson and blinked.
“What’s wrong, Cammy?”
She gulped, determined not to be a baby and cry.
“Cammy?”
“M—Mr. Baldwin said he’d talk to Daddy about me rowing on the new machines. But now he’s gone.”
For a moment Miss Jorgenson seemed out of words. She glanced at the empty doorway and then back at Cammy. “I’m sorry, honey, he must have forgotten.”
> “But he promised.”
“I know he did.” Miss Jorgenson pressed her lips together, and Cammy wondered if she was mad at Mr. Baldwin now.
“Don’t worry. I forgive him.” Cammy couldn’t keep her bottom lip from jutting out, but she knew it was the right thing to do.
“Listen, Cammy, don’t feel bad. There’s plenty of time for Mr. Baldwin to discuss the rowing idea with your dad. The school just placed the order. The machines won’t arrive for a while.”
The sadness inside her rushed away once Cammy realized that what Miss Jorgenson said was true. She felt like smiling again. Then Daddy arrived and it occurred to her that she didn’t have to wait for Mr. Baldwin to talk to him; she’d tell Daddy about the rowing machines herself!
Meg listened as Cammy relayed Kent’s offer to Vance. She didn’t see any reason why the little girl couldn’t row. She could be lifted carefully out of her wheelchair in order to use the bathroom, and she had some control of her hips—thus her squirming with excitement now as she told her dad she was going to play with the other kids.
“We’ll see,” he said. “I think I need a little more information before making a decision.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
Meg smiled as she watched father and daughter interact. She had a feeling that, to a point, Cammy had her daddy wound around her pinkie.
“Guess what? Miss Jorgenson’s going horseback riding and to Mrs. Washborne’s baby shower.”
“Sounds like she’ll be busy.” Vance grinned.
“Well, not so busy,” she said, feeling awkward all of a sudden. “It’s horseback riding tomorrow and the baby shower Sunday afternoon.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to explain.
Vance narrowed his gaze and appeared contemplative. “That’s right; your dad owns horses.”
“Yep. They live about four miles away from my grandmother, in Miracle, and my sister and brother give riding lessons on Saturdays.” It felt strange to call Kelly and Ryan her “sister and brother.” However, they were her family, and Meg had decided it was high time she publicly acknowledged the fact. “Kelly offered to give me a freebie tomorrow. Little does she know that I’ve only been on a horse once or twice in my entire life.”
Vance sported a wry grin. “Then I expect you’ll be moving kind of slow come Sunday morning.”
“I expect you’re right.” She laughed in spite of herself.
“Daddy, can we go watch Miss Jorgenson get lessons tomorrow?”
“I don’t know if she wants an audience, punkin.”
“I wouldn’t mind. Come and watch if you’d like. Need directions?”
“Naw, I have a general idea of where your dad’s place is located.”
Meg interpreted the reply to mean Vance really might show up. She looked at Cammy and realized the little girl’s pleased expression mirrored her own.
“Well, we’d best be going, Cammy,” Vance said, stooping to help her collect her things. “Got a lot to do tonight if we want to go watch Miss Jorgenson tomorrow.” He paused and tossed Meg a playful smile. “Like charge up the video camera.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny.”
He chuckled and Meg tipped her head, thinking she glimpsed a speck of hellion in him after all.
“Is that Vance Bayer over there?”
Meg looked at her dad and then over at the lawn chairs set up on the other side of the corral, where he and Cammy sat in the shade of a large willow tree. “That’s Vance, all right.”
“Thought it was.” Dad grinned. “I’ll be dogg’d. I haven’t seen him in a long, long while. What’s he doin’ here?”
“He’s been here for a couple of hours.” Meg had spent all but the last forty five minutes with him and Cammy, Grams and Tom. They’d all watched the other students ride.
“I been busy in the back with paperwork. Didn’t see him arrive. What’s he doing here anyway?”
“Well, Cammy—that’s Vance’s daughter—is in my class this year. She wanted to see my first riding lesson. When Grams heard, she insisted on coming, too, and then, of course, Tom came along. Donna was nice enough to set up some chairs.”
Smiling, Dad looked from his unexpected guests back to Meg. “And you didn’t seem a bit nervous, even with those folks watching. You did just fine.” He squeezed her shoulder.
Meg felt surprised by his praise and show of affection. “I guess I did okay, except for my none-too-graceful dismount.” She wondered if she’d imagined it.
Dad chuckled. “Looked all right to me. I’ve seen far worse.”
“Thanks.” Meg knew she had a lot to learn, but she’d had fun.
The horse beside her stomped and snorted as if impatient to return to the hilly pasture behind the stable. But first Ryan had to unsaddle her. With the mare’s reins in her fist, Meg had been heading into the pole barn, in which the stables were located, when she’d encountered her father.
“Easy, girl.” Dad rubbed the horse’s nose, then patted her neck. “Nothing to get excited about.”
Meg realized how tense she felt and thought he might as well have been talking to her. “I don’t mind saying I’m a little timid around horses. They’re so big and seem so powerful.”
“They are that, but they’re also like any of the good Lord’s creatures. Just got to get to know ’em, that’s all.”
“Makes sense.”
“Sure. So now you just take that horse in to Ryan and then help yourself to a bottle of soda. There’s an ice chest around by where we built the office.” Dad threw a thumb over his shoulder as if pointing out the way.
Meg smiled. “Good idea. Thanks.”
She tugged on the reins, and the horse began following her into the barn. Walking by neatly stacked hay bales, Meg marveled at the difference in her father’s attitude toward her today. Maybe he trusted her a little more since she’d gotten Kelly home on time the night they’d gone shopping. Maybe he was just in a good mood.
And everyone thought women were moody!
Several feet away, she spotted Ryan and waved to get his attention. When he saw her, he stopped what he was doing and came over.
“So, how was your first lesson?”
“Went well, I think.”
“Yeah?” He arched his reddish gold brows. “Think you’ll get on a horse again sometime?”
“Sure.” Meg smiled at the challenge.
Ryan seemed pleased by her response. “Well, when you’re ready, I’ll take you riding on the trail instead of just round ’n round in the corral.” He began leading the mare to her stall. “The trail out back is way more fun to ride.”
Meg followed. “I’d like that, Ryan.”
Stepping on the lowest plank of one of the stall walls, Meg peered over the top and watched Ryan unbridle the animal. When her brother glanced at her, she saw a resemblance between him and herself. Odd, but she’d never noticed it before. She suddenly wished she’d been closer to both him and Kelly while they were growing up.
As if guessing her thoughts, Ryan said, “You’re different, you know?”
“I am? How do you mean?”
He shrugged and then sent her a sheepish grin. “You’re nice.”
Meg laughed. “I don’t remember ever being not nice.”
“Not outwardly maybe, but I always thought you were—well, kinda snooty. You never wanted to do anything with Kel and me. Every time you came to visit, you’d stick your nose in a book and ignore us.”
“Sorry. I always felt—” Meg paused to collect the right words. “—well, I felt out of place when I’d visit.”
“Understandable.”
Meg left it there, deciding not to elaborate on how the whole divorce situation affected her. Mom always said that Dad resented her because she demanded alimony and child support from him, and, consequently, that he resented Meg, too. Mom also said Dad just went along with the visitation thing because the courts forced him to see his kid once in a while.
The hurt, the bitterness, and the anger had worked their w
ay so deep into Meg’s heart, that during those annual visits with Dad and his other family, she erected an emotional wall around herself. Grams was the only one she ever allowed inside.
Grams. Thank God for Grams!
“So what changed? How’d you come to decide you wouldn’t feel out of place when you moved back?”
“Honestly? I didn’t give it a whole lot of thought. I left a bad situation in Chicago, and I knew Grams’ place would be safe, so to speak. I wanted this teaching position, and Grams assured me that everything would work out. I simply hung onto the hope that it would.”
“Are you sorry you moved here?” Ryan glanced at her before lifting the heavy leather saddle off the horse’s back.
“I’m not sorry one bit. I love it here so far.”
He paused. “I’m glad.” He heaved the saddle over the top of the next stall’s wall. “It’s kinda nice having an older sister. Maybe she’ll even let me borrow her car sometime—” His blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “—when my truck’s not running.”
“Yeah, maybe she will.” Meg sent him a good-humored grin. “Maybe.”
He chuckled but appeared momentarily distracted as he gazed around the stall. “Hey, listen, I gotta fetch something. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“No worries. I gotta fetch something, too, namely a cold soft drink.”
“Go for it.” Ryan pointed out the way, and Meg hopped off the plank.
She walked down the dusty, hay-strewn aisle between the flanks of stalls. Each step was laden with purpose—she was thirsty and hoping to find a Diet Coke in what her dad called the “ice chest.” But, rounding the corner fast, she didn’t find her father’s office like she expected. Instead, she slammed right into Vance Bayer.
“Whoa,” he said, catching her by the upper arms and saving her from falling backwards.
“Oh. Wow…sorry about that.” She stared up into his face.
“You okay?” His hazel eyes melded into hers.
“Fine.”
A long moment passed. Neither seemed able to move. With her hands splayed across his chest, Meg felt his heart beating beneath her palm. Her own heart began hammering with anticipation when she guessed what would happen next. It seemed so inevitable.…
Love Finds You in Miracle, Kentucky Page 14
