She reached out to help me. “Wouldn’t it be super cool if you came to Montana with us?”
Her hand was warm on my forearm, her touch gentle and caring, her thought a whim like that of an eight-year-old child who believes in magic.
I smiled and ruffled her ponytail. “Just like a horse’s,” I said. “When you ride this will bounce and sway, and you’ll feel free. You’ll be a real cowgirl.”
Chloe laughed. The corners of her eyes crinkled. “I wish you could come with us.”
Me, too. I touched the tip of her nose with my pointer finger as I kept my secret wishes hidden beneath my stoic facade.
“How’s my room look?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.
I nodded. “Pretty good. How about you get your homework and let’s go.” I followed Chloe into the hallway. She went into a room that appeared to be an office. John’s diplomas and certificates hung neatly on the neutral colored walls. There were some boxes stacked in the corner. Freshly packed or lingering leftovers from their move in almost a year ago littered the floor. Chloe opened a closet door and rummaged to the back. I watched curiously as she pulled out her book bag. Voodoo’s string dangled from the half-open zipper. “Is that where you keep your backpack?”
“I didn’t want Marlow to find it. I really wasn’t planning on doing my homework,” she admitted.
“Figured that.”
“I knew she wouldn’t look in here. This is Dad’s room although she was pretty nosey.”
I leaned closer to see his bachelor’s degree from Michigan State University. I wondered how a Montana boy ended up there, but then again there was lots I didn’t know about John except he had roped, tied, and harnessed me with his green eyes, vivacious daughter, and clever banter.
Black-and-white photos caught my eye. A strange presence urged me to pick them up. A boy in an oversized cowboy hat sat in front of a burly man on a tall horse, his grin all too familiar. Goosebumps covered my arms. I carefully scanned the next few photos trying not to leave any evidence they’d been touched. Chloe stood beside me studying the images, too.
“Aren’t those cool? That’s my dad and my grandpa.” She took the pictures out of my hands.
I let her. I staked no claim.
“Don’t worry, my dad lets me look at these. Check this one out.” She dug to the middle of the pile.
I leaned down to get a better look. A boy in a white T-shirt was looking into the camera as if caught off guard. The pitchfork was twice his size, and his face smudged with what I wanted to believe was dirt even though he was mucking out a horse stall.
“Yuck, that’s horse poop.” Chloe cringed. “Stinky.”
“Really?” As I eagerly waited to see the stack of photos of John in his youth, my insides begged for more. I was being drawn into the period of time that shaped the man reining in my heart. Chloe’s fingers searched the pile as if she had their order memorized.
She produced a picture of John sitting on his mother’s lap on a boulder in front of a house. Her smile was kind, her hair windblown, her arms wrapped around her boy with pride. “She’s pretty.”
“That’s my grandma. I never knew her. Daddy says she was the best woman in the world.”
“I bet she was,” I said. A shiver ran up my spine.
“Here you can look at the rest of them.”
I took the stack, flipped to one more picture of John and his dad riding side-by-side. John looked to be a teenager, a skinnier version of his dad with less bristle, but just as much brawn. I straightened the pile of photos on the shelf then followed Chloe out of the room.
“We should get going. I don’t want to spend all day dinking around with this stuff. I want to play.” She nudged me out of the John’s office. “Dad said he’d take me for a ride on his Harley if I did what I was told.” She stopped in her tracks. A flash of worry crossed her brow. “But if there’s no babysitter here when he gets here, I wonder if he’ll hold that against me?”
“I’ll vouch for you,” I said. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“This time,” she muttered.
Chloe hopped down the stairs, her backpack bumping each step. Voodoo’s head popped out. The black stitched eye that my mom sewed on last summer winked at me. Her voice whispered to me even though she was back home with Bradley, yucking it up, no doubt discussing me with my grown son, her message loud and clear.
Chapter 21
Studying my cow photographs, I picked up the rejection letter and mulled it over one more time. Too afraid to check my email, I shut the laptop and sat down in my chair. Pretty soon I wouldn’t have a thumbnail left. Fletcher Thompson said I could contact him. Did he really mean it? Would he even remember me from Brook’s shoot in Chicago? I flipped up the top of my Mac to access my email willing to give it a shot. What did I have to lose?
“Hey, Mom,” Bradley called from the kitchen. “I’m going to order a pizza. Want anything special?”
“No, order what you want. Get enough for all of us.” When I looked up, he was standing in the doorway, munching on cookies and watching me. “Sorry, I forgot about lunch, I’m a little sidetracked.”
“I can see that,” he said, joining me at my desk.
“Where’s my girl, Chloe?” I asked, rearranging the pictures.
“She’s in the backyard with Nana. They’re playing with Bones. That dog is so cool.”
I glanced back at the computer screen. It was two o’clock. “I should check to see if her homework is done.”
“You sure do spend a lot of time with her,” Bradley said, picking up the Fourth of July cows. “These are really neat.”
“Thanks.
“Why do you do it?”
“Because I love photography and hand coloring photographs is fun, keeps my mind intact, a distraction from worry and things that depress me.”
Bradley sat down in the leather chair near the window. He propped his feet up on the ottoman and sighed. “I meant, why do you spend so much time with Chloe?” He brushed cookie crumbs from his belly.
“Does that bother you?” I leaned back in my chair and took off my glasses.
“No. I just wondered. I mean, I’m finally out of your hair and you can be free, do whatever you want after spending all day almost every day with kids. I don’t know. I thought you might be tired of children.”
I leaned back then saved my message to Fletcher Thompson before closing the top to my computer, again. “I really like Chloe. A lot.” I more than liked her. “And for the record, I’m not tired of children, just all the other stuff. You know what I mean.”
“You’re not doing it because of John, are you?”
Bradley’s stare met mine.
“Nope,” I said.
“And you’re not lying to me?”
“Nope. She came barreling into my life and has grown on me like nobody’s business.” I smiled at him. “But no one could take your place.” His eyes twinkled after hearing my words. “Ever.”
“Thanks, Mom. I just want you to be happy. It’s your turn.” He put his hands behind his head and leaned back.
“Thanks, honey.”
“You really like John, don’t you?” Bradley asked, taking a deep breath and sinking deeper into the chair with closed eyes.
Holding my breath and resting my elbows on the desk, I leaned against clasped hands. I didn’t respond. The curves of John’s face were etched in my mind, his kiss, and how natural it seemed to be around him. Bradley opened his eyes then checked his phone.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay.”
Words didn’t come right away, only a heavy sigh. “Maybe I do,” I whispered. Bradley’s expression brightened. “It’s all too complicated,” I added.
“So work it out or at least try. What do you have to lose?”
He stared through me. A laundry list of consequences and dismay reeled freely through my brain.
“Don’t look at me like that. That’s what you’d tell me,” he
said as he sat up, stretched, and checked his phone once more.
“What time is your flight in the morning?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Ten. I’ll call for a taxi today.”
“No need. I’m not going to work tomorrow. I can drop you off.” I fiddled with the pile of bills on the edge of my desk. Highway robbery, we were all being held hostage nowadays. “You doing okay with money?” I asked, making eye contact. Bradley was never one to ask for help even when he should.
“Yup, I’m making enough to pay the bills and save a little.”
“I like to hear that, but if you ever need a hand, I’m here and I’m sure your dad would help you out.”
Bradley grinned. “He and I already had this conversation. You guys are funny. I want to do it on my own.”
“But, if you need something, please ask. I’d be happy to help my baby out.”
His cheeks brightened and his silly toothy grin reminded me off his younger years. He was still my baby, even if he stood taller, lived on the East Coast, and was an adult.
“I know.” Bradley scooted up and out of the chair. “And Chloe’s right. I do have a pretty cool mom.”
“I’m your number one fan and always will be, even if you did move far away,” I reminded him.
“Come visit. Dad’s coming in June,” he said. “I’d like the company. You can see where I work and meet some of my friends. Last summer you were out of commission, but there’s no excuse now.”
“That would be lovely,” I replied, thinking back to a summer of radiation and the fight to beat cancer. The little black tats would always be there to remind me. “I’m in. I’ll start looking for a flight soon and let you know what I find.”
“I’m going to get the pizza.” Bradley shook the car keys in his pocket and kissed me on the forehead.
My stomach rumbled glad that he was taking care of me today. “Excellent. I’m starving.” I stood up and stretched, ready to go see what Chloe, my mom, and Bones were up to. “Thanks for getting the pizza, Bradley.”
“No worries. Sorry about the cookie crumbs on the floor. Guess some things never change.”
Bradley wrapped his arms around me then gave a squeeze. His bristly cheeks rubbed my face and it tickled. I breathed him in and remembered a time when I was the one who nuzzled him close. His arms swallowed me whole as I leaned against his warm body. “No worries. Bones will get them.”
“I love you, Momma,” he whispered.
I swallowed away emotion. “I love you too, Pooh Bear.” I hadn’t called him that in years. I held him tight. “I love you to the moon and back.”
He chuckled. “Me too, Mom.”
I stood on the front porch as he backed the car out of the driveway. It seemed eons ago that he was the little boy who used to sit in my sedan for hours and pretend he was driving. If he wasn’t going to the store, he was trekking across country in his dreams and all without leaving the driveway, funny how things had changed. Time was a magician in its own right.
A crash from the kitchen made me jump. I hustled to see what was going on. Visions of blood or someone passed out panicked me. Contemplating the worst came easily for me. Bones stood next to my mother who sat on the floor in a pile of broken dishes. Rushing over, I caught my breath. “Sit still, let me get the sharp pieces up before you move. Are you okay? What happened?” Blood trickled down her left hand. Her eyes focused on my face, her brow creased.
“I was getting the dishes out for lunch. I guess I can’t reach as high as I used to.”
She held out her hand. I grabbed a dishtowel from the counter above her head. Chloe ran in from outside. “Stay there, I don’t want you to get hurt,” I told her. “Hand me the trashcan from under that counter.” I pointed to the cupboard then focused on Mom. “Does anything hurt? Do you think you can get up?”
“My butt hurts. I fell smack dab on my butt.”
I wiped the blood from her hand to see the cut. It didn’t seem too bad. “Chloe, can you go in the bathroom and get me a warm wet wash cloth?”
Chloe trotted off without saying a word.
I picked up the two plates that didn’t break and set them on the counter. Then I collected the large chunks of everyday china and pitched them into the trashcan. “Just stay put for a second.” I tossed the bloodstained dishtowel on the counter as Chloe handed me a fresh warm cloth. Bending down, I knelt in front of Mom. Her dazed eyes thanked me. “Let me see that hand again.” I wiped the cut clean. “I think a regular bandage will do fine. No stitches for you.”
Bones gave a little woof.
I stared at him. “What did you do?” I scolded him as he tipped his head with sorrow.
“He didn’t do anything. It was all me. Getting a little clumsy in my years,” Mom said. “He was just making sure I was okay. Good dog,” she praised, patting his head.
I stood, grabbed Mom’s hands, and helped her up. She groaned as she got on her feet. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, not wanting anything to be wrong with her. With Bradley home, it just reminded me of how we were all getting older.
“I’m fine,” she muttered. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry about the dishes,” she said, her eyes rimmed with disappointment.
“We can replace the dishes any old day, but we can’t replace you.” I patted her hand.
“That’s for sure.” Chloe held her arms out toward my mom wanting a hug.
I unhooked my arm from Mom’s. “Can you help her to a chair at the table?” I asked Chloe.
Chloe nodded, her eyes serious with concern. Her usual free spirited self stepped aside in the moment. She held my mom by the elbow and escorted her slowly to the table. Mom rubbed her tailbone. I swept up the last chards as Bradley returned.
“What happened?” he asked, stopping abruptly.
Mom smiled sheepishly. “I did,” she said in disgust.
Bradley put the pizza on the counter. “You okay, Nana?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she sputtered.
I looked over to her. “We all have our days. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”
Bones sat at Chloe’s feet, his tail wagging.
I retrieved a stack of paper plates from the pantry. “Nothing fancy, but I think these will do the job,” I said, closing the closet door.
Bradley set some napkins next to the pizza. Chloe leaned over as he opened the box. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Bradley snickered.
I handed him a plate. “Looks good.”
“Smells divine,” Chloe added.
“Where did you hear that?” I asked, handing her a plate, next.
“On television. I think it sounds better coming from the lady in high heels.” She eyed the pizza. “This is a hard choice. The piece with the bubble or the piece with extra pepperoni?”
I served Mom pizza. Appearing deflated, she leaned back in her chair. “Thanks, Marjorie Jean.”
I raised an eyebrow in her direction. She didn’t seem to have lost the edge to her middle naming routine. “Sure thing, Glad,” I responded. “You okay?” She rolled her eyes at me. I went to the cupboard and got her some pain reliever. “Take this. It might help.”
“What a klutz.”
Chloe patted her arm. “I know how you feel. Look at all the klutzy stuff I do. Remember when I split Maggie’s head open?”
Bradley’s interest piqued as he sat on the opposite side of the table. “Really?” he asked.
“Really,” Chloe interjected. “It was ugly, blood, guts, stitches.”
“There were no guts,” I said under my breath. “Just some stitches and a mongo headache.”
Chloe shrugged. “It sounds better when I say there were guts.”
Mom smirked, and I knew she’d be okay. Her ego was bruised more than her body.
“That was something,” Mom said.
“Check this out.” I brushed my hair back away from my face so Bradley could see. “Got the battle scar to prove it.” He inspected my left te
mple.
“Looks like a doozy, Mom.”
Chloe laughed. “You use the craziest words sometimes. I love it. Glad say something funny because you have crazy words, too.”
Mom bit off a hunk of pizza. Her eyes focused on Chloe. “Kill two birds with one stone.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. How does that even happen?” Chloe shook her head. “What’s that mean?” she asked, cocking her head like Bones who inched closer to her searching for a nibble of pizza.
“You know get two things done at one time,” Mom explained.
“Who would be in that much of a hurry?” Chloe said. “Not me.” She chewed, and chewed, and chewed, then smacked her lips together. “This pizza is yummy.”
Bradley smiled. “Glad you like it. So your babysitter really left while you were over here eating breakfast?” he asked.
Chloe sighed. “Yeah, she was a weirdo. She said something about her mom wanting her to babysit so she could meet my dad. Who does that?”
Mom’s bright glance laced with discerning intent sent shivers down my spine. Her message unveiled, letting me know not to drag my feet where John was concerned.
Bradley leaned back. “Sounds desperate to me.”
Chloe tilted her head. I grinned, keeping my mouth zipped. I winked in his direction. Mom smiled, too. I gobbled up my pizza and got up for seconds. “Anybody want more?” As I turned to serve up the requests for more slices, John appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“Daddy!” Chloe’s squeal startled Bradley.
John bent down and kissed her on the cheek then rumpled her hair. “Hi, kiddo. The house was abandoned so I figured you were here,” he said, glancing my way.
“It wasn’t my fault this time. Really. Ask Maggie.”
I arched my eyebrow. “She’s right. Marlow had her own agenda, and it didn’t include watching Chloe,” I said. “Have some pizza.”
“I would love a piece. It’s been a long day and I’m starving.”
Bradley’s eyes followed John as he entered the room then he glanced over to me. His approving smile eased my nerves as I thought about mingling families.
“You can tell me about Marlow later,” John said to Chloe.
Maggie's Fork in the Road (Montana Bound Series Book 2) Page 14
