“I guess he figures he’ll be busy with people attending the air show.”
“Can we go see the planes?”
Jenna jerked upright from where she’d gone to unload the dishwasher. “Uh, no, honey. I already hear them flying over the foothills. Some may stray our way, but the fence people haven’t finished, so you can’t be wandering. If you stay on the porch, you may see some of the old planes.”
“You said after they finish the fence I can ride my bicycle. Is that today?”
“They may finish today. But you’re due for another X-ray to make sure the bones you broke are fusing well. I’d rather you didn’t ride until the doctor says it’s okay.”
“What’s fusing?”
“It’s that the broken parts are growing back together.”
“How can they see my bones?” Andee gazed down at her cast.
“By the X-ray. You must have been too upset to look at the ones they took the night you broke your arm. I’m sure they’ll show them to you if you ask.”
“I remember the doctor said X-rays don’t hurt. The shot hurt. Will he do that again?”
“No, honey. This is only a checkup.”
“Isn’t Monday story hour at the libary?”
“Library.” Jenna emphasized the letter Andee left out. “And yes.”
“I don’t want looking at my bones to make me miss going to that. Now that I know some kids, you don’t have to stay for the story, Mommy.”
Jenna smiled, then felt bleak. Not wanting Mom around was the first sign of growing up. She toyed with mentioning her decision to remarry. Something stopped her. Perhaps it still seemed surreal. “Our appointment for your arm is at eleven-thirty and story hour is at one o’clock.”
“I love you!”
After she’d installed Andee and Beezer on the porch with toys and she went out to start morning chores, Jenna realized she was also holding back from phoning her parents and Melody. Really, though, since Flynn agreed to wait until Christmas, there was no rush.
Barney rolled in and stopped beside the porch for a bit. He hailed Jenna next. “The kiddo just bent my ear about how much fun you all had last night at the carnival.”
“Broken arm or not, she opted for all the scariest rides and came back grinning from ear to ear.”
They began carrying eggs to the cooler. “I’m going to the air show this afternoon,” he said. “Will I see you and Andee there?”
“No. I had my fill of planes all the years I lived on base.”
“Huh, I saw you stop a minute to watch those flying now.”
She didn’t want to admit they made her uneasy. “Flynn promised none would fly directly over the ranch. I’m relieved to see he was right.”
“I want to go again tomorrow. Part of the entry fee goes to house guys like me. The mayor stopped by yesterday to see how we’re doing.” Barney laughed. “I think he was relieved to see we hadn’t trashed the place. Beats me why folks think Nam vets are hooligans. Although John isn’t a vet, just Mike and me.”
“Is that really how Mayor Parker feels? It seems a good thing that city officials put money into veteran housing. They could’ve had the sheriff or his deputies order you all out of the park and out of town.”
“Yeah. The mayor said they’d like to fund a second house. I explained that some guys roam looking for work. Jobs aren’t plentiful for men my age.”
Hesitating a minute, Jenna said, “If you need more hours, I may be able to swing it once I add alpacas. There are chores Mrs. Johnson said her husband handles that I’ll probably need to hire out or at least have help doing.”
The man shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind a six-hour day. No rush. I’m doing okay. I have a few government bennies. On occasion I fill in at the Legion.”
Jenna nodded her head and stored the last of the eggs. “What made you stop here in the first place? I mean, what made you choose to camp in this town?”
“It probably doesn’t sound too good, but we have an underground network.”
“Ah, sort of a hobo code?”
He laughed. “Not quite like that—no marks over any doorways or anything. But with the Legion post here, and a veterans’ clinic not far away, and townfolk who tolerate us hanging around...well, it gets high marks.”
“I suppose the weather helps. I know some cities close to active military bases are collection points. It hurt to see men huddled in doorways in bad weather. Why wouldn’t they move to someplace warmer?”
Barney spared a wry look as if she was naive. “Military family is more generous with handouts.”
“Ah. That’s good, but sad. Sorry, Barney, but I have to run in and check on Andee and Beezer. Meanwhile, if you’ll clean the small pen, I’ll come back and gather feathers.”
When Jenna returned, they worked steadily until noon. Glancing at her watch, she stopped and took off her gloves. “Time for lunch. Would you like a grilled-cheese sandwich before you go to the air show?”
“Thanks, but don’t bother. They’ll have food vendors there. I’m meeting my buddy Mike. His pa flew P-51s. He said they used to have pictures of his dad by his plane. Mike’s never seen one up close.”
“It’s amazing they’re still able to get parts so those old planes will fly.” Jenna scanned the sky as they walked toward the house. “Flynn said the bigger ones have booked passengers, but the P-51 they’re actually offering flight instruction.”
“Too pricey for Mike and me. Hey, I almost forgot to ask if you mind me coming to work in the afternoon tomorrow. In the morning they have stunt flyers and wing walkers. I’m keen to see those up close.”
“Did you forget that tomorrow is Sunday? You’ve only been putting in six days a week.”
The big man tipped back his head and laughed. “Now I got me an alarm clock. Next I need a calendar!”
Beezer charged down the steps, his tail wagging. He brushed his nose against Barney then Jenna. They both rubbed his head and gave him pats.
Andee left whatever she was doing and asked, “Mr. Fisk, are you going home?”
“Nah, I’m off to the ai—” He broke off when Jenna drove an elbow into his ribs. “I hear you’re going to make grilled-cheese sandwiches. Your mom invited me to stay, but I have to watch my figure.”
Andee gaped at him and Jenna snorted. “We don’t have to worry about getting belly fat yet,” she said, steering the dog and girl toward the house. She heard Barney kick-start his bike when he got to the end of the lane.
“Is belly and figure the same thing?” Andee asked once they were inside.
“Not really.” Jenna washed before assembling bread, butter and cheese. “Figure has more than one meaning. One is a person’s shape.” She made curves in the air with the spatula.
“Sometimes I don’t understand what adults say. Should I give Beezer water? I think his bowl is empty.”
“By all means. Then wash your hands and I’ll pour your milk.”
They soon sat to eat. “Andee, tomorrow is Sunday. Would you like to go to Sunday school?” All day Jenna had been thinking how they would be married. Although she didn’t want a pomp-and-circumstance wedding like her first one with white gown, military crossed swords and all, she did want to be married in a church.
She probably should ask Flynn’s preference. If he didn’t have one, and she already had a church, she couldn’t see him objecting.
“Will it be like the one in Florida or at Auntie Melody’s?”
“Probably smaller than the one by Auntie Melody.” Jenna had been raised a Methodist. But she’d spotted a charming brick community church at the edge of town.
“Maybe Emily and Joey or Keisha will be there.”
“Possibly, but if not there will be other children I’m sure.”
After lunch Jenna wrote out a list and the
y went grocery shopping. It had sounded to her as if one of Flynn’s favorite foods was pot roast. She bought one to prepare for dinner, then remembered he’d be late because of the air show.
That night she tried to stay up until he came in so she could ask about a church wedding. Except she’d barely slept the previous night, so once she put Andee to bed and even Beezer had retired, her eyes got too heavy for her. She had made Flynn a plate to go in the microwave and left him a note. Even at that she thought if she heard him come in she’d get up and keep him company while he ate.
It was a failed plan.
In the morning she vaguely recalled thinking she’d heard the door and the clink of Beezer’s tags as he’d left Andee’s bed. She had opened one eye and seen the clock said midnight. Her eyes had promptly closed again.
Flynn had left her a note on the table praising her pot roast and saying he was sorry to get home so late. Tonight could be later, it being the last night of the air show.
He’d signed his note “Love, Flynn.”
Jenna held it to her heart a minute, then went to her bedroom and tucked it away in her dresser.
Humming an old church hymn, Jenna whipped through her morning chores. Hurrying inside again, she called out, “Andee, I’ll lay out clothes for you to wear to church. Will you feed Beezer?”
“Can he go with us?”
“No dogs in church.”
“Why? God likes dogs.”
“He does. But he likes them staying at home to guard the house.”
* * *
ABOUT AN HOUR LATER, at the church, Jenna asked directions to Andee’s classroom. Turning shy, the girl clung to Jenna’s hand until she spotted someone who’d been at the library story hour. Her name was Madison, and her mother introduced Andee around before walking next door to the sanctuary with Jenna.
Jenna liked the minister. She loved the cozy interior of the church and thought it perfect for a small, holiday wedding. She’d have to talk to Flynn soon. Probably people booked holiday events early.
She pictured a late-afternoon ceremony followed by a casual family dinner. They hadn’t discussed specifics, but probably only their families would attend. That was providing more than Melody and Rob could come. Six months wasn’t really long to plan even a small wedding. Maybe they could hold the reception in the back room at the café. It was special because Flynn had taken her and Andee there on their first date.
In fact she and Andee could stop at the café for lunch and make some inquiries.
Jenna suggested her idea to Andee, who was all for it.
Because the place was busy, Jenna felt lucky to snag a table for two. They ordered burgers and fries, and when the waitress delivered the meal, Jenna asked her, “Does the café hold special events? Say, something like a small reception?”
“Yes. On your way out, you’ll pay at the register. Ask the cashier for a brochure. We also list individuals who cater barbecues and graduation parties.”
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
“Are we going to have a barbecue?” Andee asked, dipping a fry in ketchup.
“No. I’m thinking ahead to maybe having a party when Uncle Rob and Auntie Melody come to visit in December.” She was still hesitant to tell Andee about the wedding.
“We’ll know lots of people then ’cause I’ll be in school.”
“You will. Did you like the church? I noticed you made some new friends.”
“Uh-huh. Peter and Paulina are twins. Most everyone else had little brothers or sisters. Why don’t I have some, Mommy?”
Jenna put down her burger. She didn’t really want to say that Andrew hadn’t wanted more children. But it was true. “Some people don’t, honey.”
Andee’s question started Jenna thinking how she was on the high side of thirty-one. She knew military wives who’d had babies at thirty-eight or nine.
Having a baby with Flynn was on her mind when she paid the bill and asked for a brochure. Suddenly multiple vehicles fitted with screaming sirens roared past the café.
Jenna was nearly bowled over by two men who burst through the door. One shouted at large, “There’s been an accident at the airpark.”
Jenna froze.
“My brother is a volunteer fireman. He got the call saying a light plane crashed. Some people at the air show were hit by debris. That’s all I got. Seth had to get to the firehouse. Anyone here able to help?”
The room began to buzz and several men left.
Jenna hadn’t moved. Her ears rang and she couldn’t get air into her lungs.
“Mommy, you’re hurting my hand,” Andee exclaimed, trying to shake loose of her grip.
Jenna braced a hand on the counter for support.
“Who crashed? Was it Flynn?”
Andee’s words penetrated a gray fog engulfing Jenna’s brain. “Let’s go, Andee,” Jenna said through tight lips.
“But I love him. I don’t want him to be crashed like my daddy.”
“Shh, honey, let me think. We need to hurry to the car and go to the airpark.” The words tasted metallic and Jenna discovered she’d bitten the inside of her lip so hard it bled.
Practically running to the Cherokee, she boosted Andee in before she vaulted into her own seat. Then she found her hands shook too much to put the key in the ignition. She scrubbed them over her face, knowing she had to calm down or she wouldn’t be in any shape to drive.
Ultimately she clamped down on the fear that sat like a fist in the center of her stomach and managed to shave ten minutes off the drive.
She had to park a ways away from the entrance.
Unbuckling Andee, Jenna hoisted the girl to her hip and stumbled her way toward a crowd milling around inside the fence. The smell of burning rubber hung heavily in the air and smoke rose in plumes a distance away from the hangars and Flynn’s office.
Jenna didn’t have tickets. But no one seemed to be in the ticket booth, so she dashed through the gate and shouldered her way to the front of the gawkers.
Her searching gaze honed in on Flynn at once. His face was sooty, and his blue flight suit, which had probably been pristine when he’d left the house, was wet and splotched with the red earth from around the charred remains of what had been a small plane.
She wished she felt relief. Instead a crushing dread left her queasy as she was assaulted by déjà vu.
“Flynn. Flynn!” Andee screamed. “Did he crash? He looks okay.”
Flynn straightened and turned.
The child pushed out of her arms, hit the ground and ran, launching her whole body at the plainly shocked man.
“Andee, what are you doing here?” Whirling right then left, Flynn limped over to Jenna. He reached out for her.
“Jenna? You’re ghost-white. I’m so sorry, but I’m tied up. One of our guest pilots had engine failure. His wing walker, thank goodness, parachuted to safety, as did he. But a burning wing broke off and landed in the crowd. Some bystanders were burned. Look, why don’t you two wait in the office until things calm down?”
He lifted Andee and hugged her a moment, then thrust her into Jenna’s arms.
Her lips felt numb as did arms now wrapped around her daughter. Actually, her whole body felt wooden. “No. No, I’m not going to wait. I thought it may have been you who crashed. Flynn, I can’t do this. What we talked about. I ca...can’t. Moreover...you have to leave the ranch. Move out ASAP. I care. I care too much.”
With legs of lead, but hardening her heart to stone, Jenna blindly plowed through people she couldn’t see for the tears obscuring her sight.
Flynn called her name.
She didn’t turn back or stop running until she reached the gate. There a man in uniform grabbed her elbow.
“Ma’am? Are you hurt? Were you or the child burned?”
Je
nna jerked loose. “No. No, but it’s just so terrible.”
Agreeing, the deputy let her go.
At the SUV, which she hadn’t even locked, Jenna sat Andee in her booster and mopped at tears while trying to buckle the child’s harness.
“Why does Flynn have to move? Did he make the plane fall out of the sky?”
Jenna brought order to her cartwheeling emotions. “Sweetheart, no.”
“I don’t know why you told him to move,” Andee wailed. “He’ll take Beezer.”
Climbing into the SUV, Jenna fumbled to clasp her seat belt. She gripped the steering wheel with both hands and sucked in a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. I can’t explain. It’s complicated. And it hurts me to send him away. You have no idea how much it hurts.”
She fumbled a tissue from her purse, wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
“Trust me, it’s better that Flynn find a new place to live before we come to depend too much on him. Before he gets too deep in our hearts.”
Clearing her throat, Jenna put on her sunglasses and, with jaw set, backed out of the parking spot.
“He and Beezer are already in my heart. I told everybody at Sunday school Flynn’s going to be my new daddy.”
Jenna gasped. “Why on earth would you say that?”
“’Cause the teacher said God answers prayers. When we prayed, that’s what I asked for. I want a dad like all the kids at the libary story hour have.”
Jenna’s throat was too clogged with tears to respond.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
IT WAS SUPER late when Flynn drove in after a very long day. He wasn’t surprised to see the house mostly dark except for a night-light Jenna had left on in the kitchen.
He’d hoped they could talk, but dreaded it, too. Probably he was too tired to do justice to serious conversation and combat fears he knew she harbored. Considering his day, some of her worries were legitimate.
He shut off the engine and headlights, and sat for a moment surrounded by darkness and a few night noises drifting through his open window. Circling the steering wheel with his arms, he dropped his forehead onto his hands. The sting from the minor burns he’d suffered to his palms when he’d yanked a piece of hot metal off an observer reminded him to go easy.
An Unlikely Rancher Page 20
