Home to Montana

by Charlotte Carter

  Jolene pushed open the swinging door. “Nick and your boy are back from fishing. You’d better come see.”

  Her first thought, that Greg might be hurt, propelled Alisa from her chair. She hurried out front only to be stopped by a crowd of a half dozen people crowded around one of the booths.

  She pushed her way through. Nick and Greg were at the table, Nick with his arms looped leisurely across the back of the booth. In the middle of the table, a plump, eighteen-inch rainbow trout lay on a pile of newspapers. A gold-and-white trophy, as tall as the fish was long, stood beside it.

  “Mom! Look what Nick and me caught!”

  The crowd parted for Alisa. “That’s a huge fish, honey. How in the world—”

  “It was easy.” Greg’s eyes glistened with excitement. His grin could not have been broader. “At first, we didn’t quite know what we were doing. Nick pushed our boat down the ramp, but he didn’t get in fast enough so he got his shoes and pants all wet.”

  Nick acknowledged the truth of Greg’s statement with a self-effacing shrug.

  “We kind’a drifted around while Nick tried to start the motor,” Greg continued, keeping his audience’s rapt attention. “Everybody else was way out in the middle of the lake before we even got going.”

  “I should have practiced starting the motor yesterday,” Nick conceded.

  “But that was okay,” Greg said. “We finally got out onto the lake and Nick was teaching me to cast, except we got our lines all tangled together.”

  “Not a smart move on my part,” Nick said.

  Alisa eased into the booth next to Greg. Fish perfumed the air and Greg’s clothes. Probably Nick’s as well.

  “So Nick got us untangled but his hat blew off. I reached for it and almost fell out of the boat.”

  Alisa’s heart squeezed. She’d been afraid of that. Her fingers trembled as she brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead.

  “Nick grabbed the back of my jacket and pulled me back into the boat,” Greg hastily explained. “I didn’t even get wet.”

  “Thank goodness!” Alisa said on a sigh and caught Nick’s gaze.

  “I promised I’d take good care of him.” Nick looked so at ease, not at all concerned that her son could have drowned, she could have strangled him. Or kissed him because he’d been quick enough to save her boy.

  “So anyway.” Greg drew the crowd’s attention back to his story. “We cast our lines some more but we weren’t catching anything. I was sort of bummed, you know?”

  “I’m sure you were,” Alisa said. “But you’d been warned that you might not catch any fish.”

  “I know. But I really wanted to. I even said a prayer but I wasn’t sure God would care that much about whether I caught anything or not.”

  “He cares about you all the time,” Alisa assured him. “But maybe He didn’t want to take sides in the fishing contest.”

  “Yeah, that’s sort of what Nick said. But it was getting late and we had to go back to the dock. Neither of us had even had a bite. We were getting skunked.” A frown wrinkled Greg’s forehead.

  She glanced toward Nick, who had a smug grin on his face.

  Greg drew a deep breath and continued. “Nick got the motor going again. I left my line in the water while he put-putted us back to shore. Then, all of a sudden, I got a huge yank on my line. I almost dropped my pole.” The pitch of his young voice rose a notch and the words tumbled out of his mouth. “It practically bent my pole all the way down to the water.”

  “I thought he’d caught a rock on the bottom,” Nick said.

  “Yeah, but it wasn’t a rock. It was a fish! I caught my very first ever fish, Mom. Isn’t it the best-looking fish you ever saw?”

  The crowd around them clapped and cheered. Alisa hugged Greg and kissed him on the top of his sweaty head.

  Jolene slipped away to deliver her orders. Cassidy, a teenager who worked part-time at the grocery store as a stock boy, reached across the table to give Greg a congratulatory fist bump.

  “As soon as we got back to shore,” Nick said, “we took the fish to the judges to be weighed.”

  “We got second place, Mom. Can you believe that? I got a trophy and everything.”

  “I’m very proud of you, munchkin. Very proud.”

  “All Shaun and his dad caught were two fish about this big.” Greg held up his hands about six inches apart. “And Pete didn’t catch anything at all.”

  “That’s too bad.” Alisa was sure Greg’s friends would be as disappointed about not catching any fish as Greg would have been. “Maybe they’ll do better next year.”

  “No, Nick and me are gonna win first place next year. You just wait and see.”

  Nick gripped the back of Greg’s neck in a friendly vise. “I can’t make that kind of a promise, sport. You know that.”

  Alisa’s heart dropped to her stomach. Was Nick saying he’d be gone by next year’s contest? Of course he was. He’d hadn’t planned to stay in Bear Lake as long as he had.

  Not bothered by Nick’s unwillingness to make that promise, Greg eagerly told the rest of his fish tale.

  “After we got our trophy and stuff, Nick said we had to clean the fish. That was all icky and gross and smelly, but Nick said if I was going to be a good fisherman, I had to do it.”

  Finally, he relaxed against the back of the pink, vinyl-covered booth, all dreamy-eyed. “Mom, this was the greatest day I’ve ever had!”

  Dread of the future, the day she’d have to tell Greg that Nick was gone, roiled through her stomach. How was it possible that Nick wouldn’t know the pain his leaving would cause her little boy? Maybe he’d never stuck around long enough to witness the damage he had done.

  How could he care so little about those he left behind?

  * * *

  Later, as Nick was closing down the kitchen after a busy Saturday night, Alisa appeared.

  “Mama asked me to pay you for your time so far.” She handed him an envelope. “She thought you’d rather have cash than a check. Hope that’s all right.”

  “Sure. Cash is fine.” He opened the envelope and flipped through the twenty-dollar bills. Enough gas money to go a long way.

  “Okay, then, I’ll see you in the morning.” Her posture rigid, she left the kitchen.

  Nick heard her footsteps on the stairs and the creak of the floor above him when she reached the family quarters.

  Idly, he weighed the envelope in his hand. He got a small disability pension from the army because of his leg. That went automatically into a bank account in Baton Rouge. When he needed money for food or gas, he’d stop at the first bank he came to and get them to arrange a transfer of funds. He didn’t need much.

  With the cash Alisa had given him, he could open a bank account here in Bear Lake. Close down the Baton Rouge account and have the disability check directed here. If he were going stay that would make sense.

  He’d stuck around for more than a week. That was a long time based on his recent history.

  But not long enough to quit running. Not yet.

  * * *

  That night when Nick went to bed, he figured he’d sleep like a rock. He’d had a great day and gotten lots of fresh air. That fish Greg had caught still made him chuckle. Lucky kid!

  Rags on the floor beside the bed could barely keep one eye open. He’d had a big day, too.

  Rolling to his side, Nick felt himself drifting off to sleep.

  The dream started. Bullets ricocheting around the kitchen at the outpost. Explosions. Guys screaming. Panic twisting in Nick’s gut.

  And then the dream changed. The bullets were still there. Bombs exploding. Blood spraying all over the stainless steel prep tables. Except now he was running. Running after Alisa and Greg. He had to get them to safety. Get them away from the bulle
ts that could rip at their flesh. Keep them from dying.

  His legs wouldn’t move. Sweat drenched his body. He couldn’t get to them in time.

  “Stop!” he shouted. “Not that way! Come with me.”

  Two armed insurgents blocked their way. They raised their rifles. Pointed them at Alisa and Greg.

  Alisa screamed.

  “Nooo!” Nick bolted upright, his own scream echoing in his head.

  Rags’s wet tongue swiped at the sweat on Nick’s face. He drew a deep breath that burned in his chest. His heart hammered like the rat-a-tat of a machine gun. His head felt like it would explode.

  Dear God in heaven, please don’t let anything happen to Alisa and Greg.

  Still locked in the aftermath of the dream, fear, as sharp as a fish-gutting knife, sliced through him. What if the only way he could protect Alisa and her son was to leave them?

  Chapter Twelve

  Alisa held the umbrella over Mama as they walked into church on Sunday morning. Unperturbed by a little rain, Greg ran off toward his Sunday school class. The weather report called for scattered showers during the early hours with heavier rain later.

  Alisa knew that the locals would likely skip brunch at the diner if the rain became a factor. The day’s income for the diner would drop off appreciably.

  She and her mother reached the open double doors and Dr. McCandless stepped out to greet them.

  “Good morning, Ingrid. Alisa.” Dressed in a dark suit and tie, he nodded formally to each of them in turn. “It’s good to see you out and about, my dear.” He extended his arm, and Mama took it.

  They walked inside arm in arm, leaving Alisa startled and openmouthed, folding up her umbrella. When had her mother’s relationship with the doctor become so strong with references to my dear. She vaguely remembered a couple times when Mama would leave the kitchen to visit with the doctor while he ate his early morning breakfast. But that had only happened occasionally, hadn’t it? And maybe a dinner or two. She really hadn’t paid that much attention.

  Obviously, she’d been missing something.

  Nick walked up beside her. “Is there anything wrong?”

  She blinked, trying to bring her thoughts back to the present. Rain darkened the shoulders of Nick’s omnipresent khaki jacket. If he was planning to stay in Bear Lake, he’d need to buy a warmer jacket soon. If being the operative word.

  “No, nothing’s wrong.” She finished collapsing the umbrella and walked inside. She took a program from the greeter at the door. Behind her, she sensed Nick following her. His presence taunted her like a merry-go-round ring she couldn’t quite grasp and shouldn’t even try to reach. If only rarely came true.

  Mama and Dr. McCandless had left room for her in their pew. She slid over beside the doctor.

  Mama turned her head, spotted Nick in the aisle and waved to him. “There’s room for you, too.”

  Rolling her eyes, Alisa wished her mother would stick to her own business. This was no time for her to be playing matchmaker.

  To halt an inexplicable urge to reach for his hand, she stiffened her shoulders and primly folded her hands in her lap when Nick sat down beside her. He brought with him the fresh scent of rain and the outdoors as well as the elemental masculine fragrance that was his own.

  “Would you rather I sit somewhere else?” he asked under his breath. A frown pulled his dark brows together.

  “Everyone is welcome in God’s house.” Biting her lip, she chided herself for being so snippy simply because Nick might soon leave town. That was hardly the Christian attitude she should convey in church. She forced her shoulders to relax and glanced at Nick. “Greg slept with his trophy last night.”

  His lips hitched into a smile. “If I’d won something like that as a kid, I would have too.”

  “I told him he shouldn’t take it to school for show-and-tell tomorrow. I thought it might make the other boys envious.”

  “Good point. They’d probably snatch the trophy at recess and play keep-away with it.”

  Pleased that he’d agreed with her decision, Alisa turned toward the front of the church. The organ music rose. The congregation stood for the first hymn as Pastor Walker walked out in front of the choir, lifting his arms in welcome.

  * * *

  The rain had stopped, although the sky was still a threatening gray when the service was over. Alisa hoped it would stay that way for a few hours.

  Greg came running toward her through the crowd of parishioners chatting with friends. Instead of coming to Alisa, he stopped in front of Nick.

  “Hey, Nick. Did you bring Rags with you?”

  “Yep. With the rain, I had to leave him in the truck.”

  “Can I let him out and take him for a walk?”

  Nick dug in his jeans for the keys. “If it’s okay with your mom. His leash is in the front seat.” He tossed the keys to Greg, who dashed off without waiting for Alisa’s approval.

  She grimaced. “You’re very trusting. I hope he doesn’t drive off with your truck.”

  Frowning, he slid her a glance. “Hmm, I didn’t think about that.”

  “When he’s a few years older, you’d probably give that a second thought.” She snapped her mouth shut. For a moment, she’d forgotten that in a few years, or maybe a few weeks, Nick wouldn’t be anywhere near Greg or Bear Lake.

  “Alisa, dear,” her mother said. “You and Greg can go on. I’m going to stay here with Royce. He’ll bring me home.”

  Shooting Dr. McCandless a surprised look, Alisa said, “Sure. Okay.”

  “You see,” the doctor said, “she and I are going on a little trip with the senior citizens group.”

  “A trip?” Alisa gaped at him.

  “It’s just twelve days,” Mama assured her. “Since I won’t be able to go back to cooking right away, Royce thought it would be nice to visit Yellowstone, Zion and Bryce Canyon and then go onto California. Your father and I never had a chance to see them when he was alive. This seems like a perfect time.” She looked up at the doctor and smiled. “When I told Royce I’d always wanted to go there, he suggested we join the church bus tour.”

  “High time we both take a vacation,” McCandless said with a youthful grin that belied his sixty-plus years.

  “Mother, you can’t go off with—” Alisa nearly choked. “I mean, it wouldn’t be proper.” What in the world was her mother thinking? For that matter, what would others think when they heard about the trip?

  “Now don’t you worry, Alisova. We’ll be just fine.” She patted Alisa’s arm with her still injured hand. “There’s nothing wrong with two friends going on a vacation together. I’ll be sharing a room with Abigail Mayors, and we’ll have all our friends from church to visit with.”

  That was a relief! But her mother— “What about the diner?”

  “I’m sure you and Nick will be able to take care of any problems that might come up.” She glanced at Nick. “Isn’t that right?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  “Jake called me yesterday,” Mama continued. “His daughter is much better now and will be able to take care of herself. He’ll be here by Tuesday at the latest, ready to get back to work.”

  Alisa whipped her head to Nick. She wanted to gain his support to keep Mama at home, only she found Nick appeared unconcerned about Mama’s plans. He stood there, the tips of his fingers in his hip pockets, rocking slightly back and forth on his feet, a half smile on his face. She wanted to poke him in his chest. Didn’t he realize that her mother was going away with a man? A man who wasn’t her husband? Even it was a church sponsored trip—

  Mama never would have condoned Alisa doing that; she was very much old country. Nor would Alisa have suggested it.

  McCandless took Mama’s arm. “I’ll
have your mother back home by dinnertime. The bus leaves in the morning, so she’ll have to pack tonight.” With that, the two of them strolled back into the church.

  Alisa planted her fist on her hip. Why were they leaving so soon? Couldn’t Mama have given her a chance to adjust to the whole idea of Mama and Royce going off together?

  Looking around the almost empty parking lot, Nick said, “Bet they’ll have a great time. That’s really pretty country, particularly in the fall.”

  He would say that, she thought with annoyance.

  “I’m going to go check on Greg and my dog,” he said. “You coming?”

  Oh, yes, she was coming. She trudged after him. Nothing like having her world tipped upside down in the course of only a few minutes. Especially when it meant she and Nick would be working closely together for twelve days.

  Unless he bailed out on her like Ben had, leaving her on her own.

  * * *

  Late Wednesday night, after he’d spent some time with the vets at the barbershop, Nick chinned himself on the bar between the trees. He kept a mental count—twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two...

  It had been three days since he and Alisa had waved goodbye to Mama and the doctor. They’d driven off in the doctor’s SUV with four-wheel drive, both of them looking excited and glad to be on their way to the church and the waiting bus.

  Alisa, on the other hand, had been in a stressed-out, blue funk ever since they’d left. Nick didn’t understand that. Mama had a right to some happiness.

  So did Alisa.

  ...forty. His muscles burning, Nick dropped to the ground to do his push-ups. Breathing hard, letting his heart rate slow, he looked toward the diner. It was late, the diner closed for the night, but there was still a light on in the kitchen. Nick had skipped out early to go to the vet’s group at the barbershop. Had Hector forgotten to turn the lights off?

  Or was Alisa still working?

  Standing, Nick brushed his palms off on his jeans and strolled toward the kitchen door. Rags trotted along beside him. He’d check to make sure everything was all right and switch off the lights. Then he’d finish his workout.