Walking beside Jessica toward the band shell, Ridley thanked God that he hadn’t stayed at the house today. He’d almost convinced himself he should skip the festivities. After all, he’d managed to avoid Jessica for the past two days. Better to keep on avoiding her. And yet, here he was, strolling through the busy park with her, feeling like a million bucks because she was at his side.
The ensemble he’d labeled an orchestra wasn’t large, but they proved themselves talented when they began to perform in earnest.
“Nobody’s dancing,” he said to Jessica.
“Too early. Wait until dusk. That dance floor they’ve put down will be packed with couples.”
He wondered if he’d be able to convince Jessica to dance with him.
“I’d better get back to Billie and Carol. They’ll be wondering what’s happened to me.”
“They know you’re with me.”
She cocked her head to one side, looking up at him.
He thought how easy it would be to lean down and kiss her again. But the timing wasn’t any better today than it had been two days earlier. So instead, he looked around and asked, “Where are they?”
“Over there.” She pointed.
He took her arm once again and escorted her across the grass. Carol and Billie and a few other people were seated on camp chairs and blankets in the shade between two tall, gnarly trees.
“There she is,” Billie said, seeing their approach.
“We stopped to check out the musicians.” Jessica glanced at Ridley.
He helped her settle onto the vacant chair, then took a step back, wondering if he should leave. But before he could decide on his own, Billie spoke up, introducing him to those he didn’t know. After he shook a few hands, he was invited to sit down and join them. He didn’t need to be asked a second time. He sank onto the edge of the nearest blanket and observed the group of friends as they conversed, joked, and laughed.
He guessed that Carol Donaldson was the oldest. She was probably a few years older than Ridley. The rest all seemed to be within a year or two of thirty, either way. Besides Carol, Billie, and Jessica, there were two married couples sharing the blankets and chairs. He didn’t recognize the four from church, so he assumed they weren’t members. Gordon and Marie Jones owned a small cattle ranch at the north end of the long valley, and Ian and Vicky Coleman managed a hot springs resort about fifteen miles to the east of the valley.
It was clear Jessica had been missed from their ranks since the death of her husband and daughter. She wasn’t as alone and friendless as it had sometimes appeared to Ridley. He was glad of that.
The afternoon shadows were beginning to lengthen when the Joneses and the Colemans excused themselves, saying they were expected elsewhere. For some reason, it made Ridley worry he might be in the way of the remaining friends. After all, he was the one who had crashed their plans.
“Maybe I’d better go too,” he said, ready to rise.
Jessica sent him a fleeting smile. “You don’t have to leave, Ridley. You might get roped into another competition, and I’m not sure your knees could take it.”
His knees were fine, but it was as good an excuse to remain as any other. He settled back onto the blanket.
“I’m getting hungry,” Carol said. “Anybody else?”
“I could eat,” Billie answered.
Carol stood. “Corn dogs or corn dogs?”
“Well, if that’s our choice—” Ridley got to his feet. “—then I’ll help you get the corn dogs.” He looked at Jessica. “One or two? With or without mustard?”
“One with a light strip of mustard on one side.”
He looked at Carol. “Picky, isn’t she?”
“Terribly.”
Chuckling, they walked off in the direction of the food booths.
“You know what, Ridley? You’re good for Jessica.”
He gave a slight shrug, not sure what to say in reply.
“She’s happier today than I’ve seen her in a long, long time.”
“That’s not because of me. That’s the Fourth of July fun.”
“No. Believe me. It’s you.”
He sobered, wanting to believe her but having trouble letting himself hope. After all, what had changed between Tuesday and today? Nothing. The timing was still off. The circumstances were more than a little complicated. Friendship might be all that could exist between them.
Carol and Ridley stood in line for quite a while, but at last they had their order of corn dogs and were heading back toward the shaded area where Jessica and Billie awaited them. They were almost to their destination when Carol’s pace slowed, and Ridley heard her say, “Not again.”
He looked at her, then followed her gaze. Another couple stood near their chairs and blankets talking to Jessica and Billie. “Who is it?” he asked Carol.
“Ellery and her latest boyfriend.” Irritation was clear in her voice. “Ellery’s no friend to Jessica. Don’t be fooled by her.”
They crossed the remaining ground. “Here we are,” Ridley announced.
The newcomers turned toward him. He gave the woman a quick glance—dark hair, green eyes, tall and slender—before stepping past her to hand a corn dog to Jessica, keeping the other two he carried for himself. “One light strip of mustard. As requested.”
“Perfect.” Her smile seemed a little tentative. His gut told him it had something to do with the woman Carol had said was no friend. He looked in Ellery’s direction. An unusual name, he thought, but it went with her striking beauty.
“You’re new around here.” Her smile could only be called dazzling. “I’m Ellery.”
“Nice to meet you.” He held up a corn dog in each hand, an excuse not to shake hands. “I’m Ridley.”
Her gaze slid to Jessica, a question in her eyes, but apparently one she didn’t intend to ask.
Ridley looked at the man beside Ellery and gave him a nod.
“Ted Daniels. So you’re new to Hope Springs too?”
“Yeah. I’ve been here about a month.”
“It’s not a bad place. I moved here in January. Small, but it grows on you.”
“I like it.” His gaze returned to Jessica, and he wished he could announce to everyone that she was the reason he liked Hope Springs.
“Come on, Ted.” Ellery hooked her arm through his. “Their corn dogs are getting cold. Better let them eat.” She turned her boyfriend away from the group, then looked back over her shoulder, her eyes on Ridley. “See you on the dance floor.”
KUNA, IDAHO
Monday, July 4, 1932
Andrew sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on thighs, head in his hands. The night had been a short one. Helen had been up and down numerous times, and even when she slept, she was restless, sighing, groaning softly. He lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. Now she slept soundly. Bless her.
He rose and dressed in the predawn light, making as little noise as possible. Then he slipped from the bedroom. As usual, Mother Greyson had managed to rise even earlier. The scent of coffee greeted him in the hallway and drew him into the kitchen. He poured himself a cup, stood near the table, and blew on the hot beverage until he could drink it to the last drop.
“Thanks, Mother Greyson.” He felt slightly more alive now than he had when he first awakened.
As he went about his morning chores, he talked to God, thanking Him for another fine day, for good weather, for the most recent hay cutting, for the general health of both the farm and his family. He prayed for his wife and unborn child. He prayed for his mother-in-law and for his parents. He prayed for Luke and Agnes Adams, wherever they were now.
When he tossed hay into the pen, Belle’s filly trotted over to greet him. Just over two months old, she behaved more like a puppy than a horse. She loved to follow him about whenever fences didn’t separate them.
“Andrew!”
He looked toward the house. Mother Greyson stood on the porch, waving a towel above her head. There followed a second of wondering
what she needed. In the next instant he was running toward her.
“Has it started?” he asked when he reached the bottom step.
“Yes.”
“Did you call the doctor?”
“Not yet.” She gave him a patient smile. “It will be a while yet.”
He remembered the last time, and dread clawed at his chest. “Helen is fine, Andrew. I just wanted you to know. Finish your chores, then come in and have your breakfast.”
The morning chores were finished, he could have told her, and he wouldn’t be able to eat a bite, no matter what she said. Not now.
If Andrew lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the moment when—twelve hours later—Mother Greyson placed a tiny bundle of humanity into his arms, wrapped in the pink-and-white striped blanket that she’d knitted for the infant earlier in the summer. His mother-in-law had also knitted a blue-and-white striped one. “We’ll put that one away for another time,” she told him with a wink.
What did he care about blankets? All he had eyes for was his daughter. Francine Madge Henning. An awfully long name for such a small thing. Six pounds of perfection as far as he could tell.
“Are you disappointed she isn’t a boy?” Helen asked from their bed. “Every man wants a son.”
He looked at her, feeling as if he might explode from sheer joy. “Are you joking? She’s exactly what I prayed for.”
“You’re going to spoil her, aren’t you?”
“Every chance I get.” He pulled back the blanket for a more thorough inspection. “I’ve never really looked at a baby’s hands before. They’re amazing. Look at those little fingernails.”
“Andrew?”
“Hmm.”
“Thank you.”
He raised his eyes to meet her gaze.
“For loving me despite . . . despite all the mistakes I made. All the reasons I gave you not to love me.”
He offered her a soft smile, knowing that he could never put into words the lessons God had taught him over the past year and a half. Not without her misunderstanding or being hurt by them. Some lessons a person had to learn for themselves and not from hearing the experiences of another.
For himself, Andrew had learned that love was far more than an emotion, much more than a feeling. Emotions and feelings weren’t bad starting places, but it took more than that to last. Lasting love was a decision. Love was a commitment. He didn’t love Helen today because the swirl of romantic love he’d felt at the beginning had endured. He loved her today because he’d determined to love her, no matter what. The words of the marriage ceremony were far more than he’d thought on the day he repeated them to the minister. Love, like marriage, was for better or worse. They’d been through some of the worst.
Holding his child, he figured they were in for some better.
Chapter 20
The instant Ellery and Ted were out of hearing distance, Carol said, “What did she want this time?”
Attempting not to look interested, Ridley stared at the ground as he took a bite of his corn dog.
“To insult you again?”
“No,” Jessica answered. “Not to insult me. I think she wanted to prove to Billie that she and Ted are still a couple. You know, about what Billie said earlier.”
Ridley looked up in time to see Billie and Carol exchange a meaningful look. What was going on? Whatever it was, he was in the dark, and he suspected Jessica was in the dark as well. His gaze went to the last place he’d seen Ellery and Ted, but the crowd had closed in and they were no longer in sight.
He finished off his corn dogs, washing them down with a cold soda Billie had produced from the cooler.
When Jessica finished eating, she excused herself and made her way to the public restrooms at the opposite side of the park. Watching her walk away, he thought that no one would know she was pregnant from that view. She was shapely but slender. How could anybody call her fat? The question had no sooner formed in his mind than he guessed it was Ellery who had said those words to Jessica. No wonder Billie and Carol didn’t like the woman.
“So, Ridley . . .”
He looked at Billie.
“What do you think of the way we celebrate the Fourth?”
“It’s been fun.”
“Not too quaint for you?”
He chuckled as he shook his head. “No. It’s nice.”
She stared off into the distance. “Some people aren’t cut out for life away from a city. I guess it’s too quiet or something.” Then her gaze moved in the direction where Jessica had disappeared from view. “And some people aren’t as happy away from the mountains and small-town life.” Her eyes moved back to him. “Jessica’s one of those people. She grew up in Boise. You probably know that. But she found her true home when she moved to Hope Springs. She’d never be as happy somewhere else as she is here.”
Ridley knew a friendly warning when he heard one. Was it a warning he needed? Maybe, if bad timing between him and Jessica wasn’t enough of a problem.
“On the other hand,” Carol piped in, “telecommuting is all the rage. As long as you’ve got good internet service, you can do just about any work here that you can do somewhere else.”
Ridley grinned at her. He didn’t believe Billie Fisher was against him, exactly, but he knew Carol Donaldson was for him. However, that didn’t solve the problem of bad timing.
“Tell me something, Billie,” he said as he stood. He took a couple of steps and dropped his empty soda can into a recycle receptacle before he faced her again. “What was Jessica’s husband like?”
From her expression, he saw that he’d surprised her. It took her a long while to answer. “Joe was . . . charming and quite easy to like. At first.” She glanced toward the restrooms, then back at him. “He was also selfish and thoughtless. Especially around those who loved him and would cater to him.”
Ridley was more surprised by the answer than Billie could have been by his question. He’d expected to hear about a paragon of virtue.
“He was a fun dad. You know the kind. Sweep in and do all the entertaining stuff and then leave and let the harder stuff fall to the mom.”
Ridley ran a hand through his hair, trying to readjust the image he’d had in his head for several weeks.
“Jessica deserved better.”
“Yes,” he said beneath his breath.
Carol spoke up again. “Joe was a particularly good friend of Ellery Wallace, but I don’t think Jessica knew that.”
The new picture in his mind of Joe Mason was now complete. No wonder Billie and Carol had closed ranks around Jessica when Ellery came calling.
Softly, Billie said, “Shh. Here she comes.”
He turned his head and watched Jessica’s final approach.
“You’ll never guess who I was talking to,” she said as she arrived.
Jessica mentioned someone Ridley didn’t know, at which point he tuned out the conversation. He was trying to reconcile in his mind how any man could be unfaithful to Jessica. If that was true, it made no sense to him. He’d assumed she’d been married to a great guy, a great husband, a great father. But if Joe Mason had been unfaithful, it could explain why Jessica had pulled away from Ridley’s kiss. Perhaps it was more than just bad timing. Perhaps it was caution. Perhaps she’d known more than Carol thought.
What was it his grandmother used to say? Once burned, twice shy.
It was such a very long time since Jessica had enjoyed herself as much as she enjoyed herself that day. She’d walked in the park and loved the feel of the sun on her head. She’d people watched to her heart’s content. She’d sat in the shade and talked with friends. She’d laughed often. She’d eaten a corn dog and slurped a snow cone and drank ounces and ounces of cold water, making for numerous trips to the restroom.
But she didn’t fool herself. What had made the day perfect was Ridley’s addition to their small company, and some of the delight had disappeared when he’d said he had to get home to let Kris out of the house and feed her.
With the arrival of dusk, the strings of lights came on all around the band shell. Two singers joined the musicians on the stage. Couples began to fill the dance floor, from little kids to octogenarians. It wasn’t long before two men she didn’t know—brothers by the look of them—approached to ask Billie and Carol to dance. Jessica could tell her friends were going to decline the invitations, probably because they didn’t want to leave her sitting there by herself. She was having none of it.
“Go on. I’m fine. It’ll be fun to watch you from here.”
Billie gave her a questioning look. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” She smiled as she motioned them away.
After a while, she struggled up from the camp chair and stepped to the edge of the blankets, her fingers pressed against the small of her back. She knew better than to sit for so long without rising and moving around.
The musicians played a rock tune from forty or fifty years ago. She saw Billie wave at her from the dance floor and quickly waved back to let her know she was fine.
“Care to dance?” came a soft voice from behind her.
She sucked in a breath. “Ridley?” She turned around.
He stood close, the lights overhead revealing his smile and a sparkle in his eyes.
“I didn’t think you were coming back.”
He shrugged. “Kris can manage without me for the evening. I gave her a good run before I left again.” He glanced toward the band shell, repeating, “Care to dance?”
“I don’t know.” She glanced down at her protruding abdomen. “I probably shouldn’t.”
“We’ll wait for a slow one. Dance with me.”
She didn’t seem to have the strength to decline a second time. “Okay.”
Applause broke out as the rock song ended. Ridley cupped her elbow with the palm of his hand and ever so gently steered her toward the dance floor.
A laugh bubbled up from inside. “How do you know this will be the slow one?”
“They wouldn’t dare play another fast one.”
“Wouldn’t they?”
Who I Am with You Page 17
