Home to Heal

by Lois Richer

  “That’s what we’ve called it since we were kids. Bonnie and Ben used to hold huge picnics there. Everyone brought food and chairs and we’d have a campfire. My friends and I used to sunbathe there and pick the wildflowers. Drew, Zac and Ben often tossed a football there, too. It’s a great spot.”

  “Hmm, maybe my idea won’t work, then.” Abby chewed her bottom lip.

  “What idea?” Mandy parked in front of the general store.

  “Well, you know that Zac is spending time with a man named Leo who recently lost a child?” She waited for Mandy’s nod. “It’s not the easiest thing to get some private time and space inside the cabin. I try to keep the girls busy outdoors so the men can talk freely, but you know how kids are.”

  “Yes, I do. And the last couple of rainy days must have made it even more difficult. So you believe Peace Meadow would be a good place for Zac and his guest to talk without interruption?” Mandy’s smile filled her face. “It’s a great idea, though I’m pretty sure they’d prefer some chairs to sit on rather than the old stumps we used as kids. I wonder what ever happened to the two Adirondack chairs that Ben made long ago?”

  “I didn’t see any chairs yesterday,” Abby murmured as she mentally scanned the meadow.

  “They’ve probably disintegrated after all these years. But maybe we can find some here that would work.” Mandy waved a hand toward the general store. “This place offers a wide variety of stuff.”

  “We can look.” Abby exited the car slowly, worried about taking the excited twins into a store with a huge display of glass ornaments right at the entrance.

  “Come on. They have a place for kids to play,” Ella urged Mia and Zoe. “It’s cool.”

  “You look nervous.” Mandy held the door open for the girls to enter, then smiled at Abby. “Don’t be. They’ll be fine in the kids’ area, and that means we can look as long as we want.”

  Abby wasn’t exactly sure she wanted to spend much time in a hardware store, until she saw the extensive stock it carried and realized there were a number of things she needed—some jeans and a couple of Western shirts, new sunhats for the twins, as well as some kitchen utensils and a couple of insulated mugs Zac could use if he went to the meadow. Her cart filled rapidly, but when she was about to pick up a big ball of white rope, Mandy stopped her.

  “We have plenty of that on the ranch, Abby,” she said. “For whatever you need.”

  “Okay.” She blinked. Mandy’s basket was heaped with sewing supplies. “Do you make clothes for Ella?”

  “No. Quilts. Bonnie and I usually have a project going so if it gets really hot—or really cold in the winter—and we need some chat time, we can sit down and stitch together.” Mandy shrugged. “Then we give them away to our church’s graduating students or families in need or new babies or—the list is endless.”

  “Do you make a lot of quilts?” Abby was intrigued.

  “Quite a few.” Mandy laughed. “You might say we’re addicted to quilting. You’re welcome to join us if you want. It’s not hard to learn.”

  “I’d like to, if you think I can do it.” She smiled at Mandy’s enthusiastic nod but something puzzled her. “How does Bonnie manage now with her burned hands?”

  “She struggles.” Mandy’s expression grew serious. “But it’s something she loves and she refuses to give it up. She cuts everything and does most of the machine stitching because it’s easier for her. The hand stitching isn’t, but I actually think it’s helping her dexterity.”

  “How wonderful. I’ve never done anything like quilting, though in Botswana the ladies did some incredible stitchwork. I bought a huge wall hanging a few years ago from a woman who created the entire picture from an idea in her head. All handmade.”

  “I’d love to see it.” Mandy pushed her cart behind Abby into the checkout line.

  “It should be coming with my trunk, soon, I hope.” As Abby loaded her items on the counter for the clerk to ring up, she felt a pang of loneliness for the land she loved. She pulled out her credit card as a voice from the past chided, You waste so much money on silly things, Abigail. Things you don’t need, like toys for children who aren’t even yours. Don’t they have enough toys?

  This from a man who wanted money to buy a newer, fancier airplane. No, she would not go back to the tension and fear, to denying herself something she loved simply to appease Ken. She was free now. Free to live her life the way she wanted, to savor precious intangibles as well as things that brought her joy. As if to reinforce that, she added two small bags of peppermints to her stash.

  While Mandy paid for her things, Abby followed the sound of giggles to a fenced-off corner at the back of the store where the three girls were deeply engaged in a board game with purple hippopotamuses. She watched for several minutes before they noticed her.

  “I’m winning, Abby,” Zoe proclaimed, sacrificing a move in order for Mia’s hippo to escape the swamp.

  Then Ella rolled a six which catapulted her over the finish line. “Good game,” she cheered as she high-fived the other two.

  “Mandy’s almost ready to leave so I think you’d better put away the game,” Abby said. She needn’t have bothered because the girls were already restoring order to the small space under Ella’s direction.

  “We hafta make it right,” she told them.

  “Why?” Mia wondered.

  “So it’s ready for the next kid to play. Then they clean up and when we come next time it’s ready for us. It’s called—” She stopped short, thought a moment then said triumphantly, “Cooperation.”

  “Very good, Ella. I’m proud of you girls.” And Abby was. As proud as any mother would be. If only...

  “Are we ready to hit the library now?” Mandy asked from behind Abby.

  “Yes!” Ella squealed. Mia and Zoe frowned at her in confusion. “We go there to get storybooks that we c’n read at home. Don’t ’cha know what a library is?”

  The twins shook their heads slowly.

  “We didn’t have that in our village,” Mia explained.

  “But we like books,” Zoe said.

  “The library’s got lots of ’em,” Ella told her.

  “We’ll head over there right away,” Mandy promised. “But first I saw something I need to show you, Abby. I’d like your opinion. Come along, girls, and don’t touch.” She led the way around the kids’ area and through a side door into a covered annex filled with half-unpacked lawn and patio furniture. “Voilà!” she pronounced, pointing.

  Abby blinked in surprise at the brightly colored Adirondack chairs stacked nearby.

  “They’re made of some composite material so they won’t need painting, won’t fade from the sun and don’t need cushions,” Mandy explained. “There are also side tables.”

  “An’ chairs for us.” Zoe immediately plopped down into a brilliant pink pint-sized chair. The other girls followed, Mia in a baby-blue chair and Ella in a yellow one.

  “What do you think, Abby?” Mandy studied her, a huge grin on her face.

  “I think they’re perfect.” Abby made the decision in an instant. “Can I buy six of them?”

  “Why six?” Mandy wondered.

  “Make that eight. Three Calhouns and any women they bring along makes six.” She winked at Mandy. “Add two for Ben and Bonnie.”

  “What about kids?” Ella demanded.

  “Okay, four kids’ chairs, too, in case someone adds to the family,” Abby said with a wink at her new friend. “I also think we need a picnic table because Peace Meadow is perfect for picnics.” She stopped, suddenly aware of Mandy’s surprise. Doubt immediately took over. “Is it too much? Is it presumptuous of me to buy them? I mean, I know it’s not my place, but I thought if Zac and his guests felt comfortable it would make it easier—”

  “Abby, stop.” Mandy laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’s a wonderful idea. I can just
picture everything. We’ll all use that space so much more. I don’t know why I never thought of it. But you’re our guest. You can’t pay.”

  “I want to.” Abby decided it was time to confide in Mandy. “Zac is so sure he will be useless at listening to and helping Leo. I’m sure he can do it, but he needs to relax. Me bursting in to wash grubby children’s hands or get a snack must make it difficult for Leo to really open up.” She paused, then lowered her voice. “Zac needs to find a different way to minister to people. I have a hunch that sitting in that gorgeous meadow, where it’s so peaceful and where he can be alone with his thoughts sometimes, would help both him and whomever comes to see him. Is that silly?”

  Mandy smiled and shook her head. “Not silly at all. Just very thoughtful and kind and caring. You choose whatever you think is appropriate. As the ranch manager, I’ll authorize payment for whatever items you decide on.”

  “But I don’t want to cause Hanging Hearts any expense,” Abby protested. “I just want to help, to be part of something.”

  “You have helped, Abby. You are part of us. It’s a wonderful idea. But I insist the ranch pays for the furniture.” Mandy’s voice dropped. “We’ll go to the library while you choose whatever’s appropriate. I’d help you but my world is ranching, not decorating. I know you’ll choose exactly what the meadow needs. And let’s keep the makeover a secret until you decide to unveil it.” She summoned the girls. “See you in a bit,” she said, and winked before shepherding them out of the building.

  Abby stood there, shocked, surprised and a little uncertain about carrying through her idea. But then a mental image floated through her head of Zac’s face this morning when he’d been doubting himself. That decided it for her and she went to find the store manager.

  There was so little she could do for this family. Creating a special space seemed like a small thing, but she’d pray it rendered big dividends for the widower and his future.

  * * *

  “I think I’d prefer to stay here and attend to some chores,” Abby argued when they’d finished supper later that night. But Zac wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  “Family nights are a big deal in this community,” he said, wiping dry each dish she put into his hands. “You have to go. Besides, I’ll need help to get around.”

  That was doubtful. The community center hadn’t changed one iota in past years and he’d known the place like the back of his hand. But if guilt worked, he’d use it.

  “Well.” Great! Abby was actually thinking about it.

  “Come on, Abby. Pull on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and join in the fun. You read those dry old texts to me for two hours last night. You deserve a break.”

  “All right. I’ll go, but only because I bought some jeans today. Otherwise I’d have nothing to wear.” She rolled her eyes when he complained he’d heard that before. “I hope they don’t look stupid on me. I’ve never worn jeans and Mandy wasn’t much help in telling me if they are in style.”

  “Mandy doesn’t do style. She does comfort. And she always looks great,” Zac stated. Then he frowned. “You’ve never worn jeans? Really?”

  “My boarding school didn’t allow them, and anyway, it was usually too warm for jeans,” she said. “Also, Ken—he didn’t like me wearing jeans. He said they weren’t feminine.” The smile had leeched from her voice. Now she sounded sad. Zac needed to change that.

  “I wish I could have a chat with Ken,” he muttered, then lightened up. “Thing is, you’re in Montana now. Everybody wears jeans. I’ll finish drying these dishes. You go get ready.” As an afterthought he asked, “What are the twins wearing?”

  “T-shirts and chinos. Their hoodies are hanging by the door.” She paused. He could sense her hesitation. “Are you positive I should go?”

  “Positively positive.” He grinned. “Also, Miss P. would have my head if you didn’t.”

  * * *

  Drew picked them up ten minutes later with Ella in tow.

  “Mandy’s driving Ma and Dad in,” he said as he waited for Zac to get his light jacket.

  “Where’s Abby?” Surely she hadn’t backed out?

  “Belting the twins into the car.” Drew straightened his brother’s collar.

  “Can I ask you something?” Zac wondered if this was a mistake. He didn’t want to give the wrong impression but he needed to know.

  “Don’t like the sound of that,” his brother mumbled. “But go ahead.”

  “When you picked us up at the airport, it seemed to me like you had a weird reaction to Abby. Why?”

  For a few minutes Drew said nothing, and Zac wondered what was wrong. Then, after exhaling heavily, the response came.

  “I keep forgetting you can’t see,” he said. “And I feel very sorry for you because, bro, that woman is drop-dead gorgeous.”

  “Pretty like how?” Zac needed a mental picture.

  “Not pretty. Way past that. Stunning is a good word. Like a movie star.” Drew shifted, his boots thudding against the floor. “I doubt I’ll do Abby justice, but I’ll try. She’s shorter than us, but taller than Mandy. Her hair is sort of fluffy, loose curls, maybe.”

  “How long?” Zac asked.

  “Four or five inches past her shoulders. It’s black, or almost, and very shiny against her pale skin. She doesn’t have much of a tan, but she’s got these amazing eyes.”

  “Amazing eyes?” Zac made a face. “How can eyes be amazing?”

  “Well—hmm.” Drew stopped to think about it. “Like kind of changing all the time. At first I thought they were green, but then I noticed they change depending on what she’s wearing or maybe her mood. Sometimes they look the color of glacial meltwater. With a turquoise tinge? I don’t know to explain it. Abby’s different.”

  “Her face?” Zac was building an image in his mind and he wanted details.

  “I told you. She’s beautiful. But it’s funny.” Drew huffed slightly as he straightened. “After you get over her stunning beauty, you realize that’s not what makes Abby so amazing. It’s a kind of glow when she smiles that makes you pay attention. Mandy’s noticed it, too. Radiating loveliness, she calls it.”

  “You’re not much help,” Zac complained. “You make her sound like some kind of fairy-tale character.”

  “Actually, she reminds me a bit of a character in one of Ella’s DVDs. You’ll understand when you see her for yourself,” Drew promised as he grabbed his arm. “Ready to go?”

  “Yes. You can let go of my arm, bro. I know my way off the deck.” Zac grabbed the handrail and stepped down, silently counting as he went. Because he’d heard Drew drive up, he had a fair idea where the car was parked. He found the door handle and got in.

  “Can we go now?” Ella demanded. “I want to play the peanut game.”

  “What’s a peanut game?” Zoe demanded.

  “Ah, you have no idea, girls. Let the fun begin,” Drew cheered as he drove away.

  And it was fun, even though Zac couldn’t see. He could hear the girls as they laughed and giggled and tried to keep him informed about what they were doing. Abby did, too, but Zac refused to let her stay at his side the entire time.

  “There’s usually a game like golf. It has the best prizes, if memory serves,” he told her. “See it?”

  “I don’t see it, but there is one where you toss plastic discs in a cup. I’ll try that.” Abby returned from the game a few minutes later, elated at having won a hand-beaded leather coin purse made by a local Blackfoot woman.

  “It’s so well constructed,” she marveled, insisting he feel her treasure. “Aren’t you going to participate in anything?” When he shook his head, she called Drew over. “Zac won’t try any games.”

  “Can’t have that.” Drew grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him upright. “I’m pretty sure you can’t best me at the dart game, but you have to try.”

  “Du
de, I can’t see,” Zac reminded him, annoyed by his brother’s pushiness.

  “Neither will anyone else. Because we do this blindfolded, remember?”

  Zac had forgotten. Actually, he’d forgotten a lot about these fun evenings and how Miss P. always planned for total participation. Young, old, infirm, physically and mentally challenged and those who just needed to be around others all had a place in her scheme. He’d play this game because, if he didn’t, she’d seek him out and make a scene.

  Abby wove her arm in his as she directed him to the game and told him it was set up in a protected space where children weren’t allowed.

  “Okay. Here’s the dart.” Drew pushed Zac’s fingertips over the Velcro tip. “Feel it? Good,” he said when Zac nodded. “Now the target is about two feet around and it’s straight in front of you, maybe ten feet away.”

  “Maybe? I need a more accurate description than that,” Zac protested.

  “It’s actually ten and three-quarters feet from the line on the floor. Your toes are just touching that line,” Miss Partridge advised from behind him.

  How did the woman know the exact moment to appear?

  “What will I win?” he asked as he hefted the extralong dart several times to test its weight.

  “That’s a surprise.” Miss Partridge laughed with great glee, which made Zac extremely suspicious. “Go ahead now, dear. This is a popular event and we have lots of folks getting in line.”

  “The pressure mounts,” Drew murmured. The smile in his voice indicated he was teasing.

  “Ignore them, Zac. You can do this. Piece of cake.” Abby’s whisper came from the direction of his left ear. “You’ll have to throw with some force because the board isn’t very stable and several folks have had their darts fall off. Oh, and aim just slightly left. There’s an overhead fan that seems to be skewing things a bit.”

  “Thanks,” he said. Odd how her simple instructions and reassurance settled his uneasiness. “Here goes nothing.”