by Heather Gray
"Ten days or so. Next Friday. Families need their kids to help plant."
Grady wasn't actually interested in the school schedule, but he didn't know how else to draw Mary out of the shell she'd crawled back into during the deputy's visit. "I meant what I said. I'll put the boys to work this summer in exchange for anything I do around here."
"That's fine."
"You gonna tell me what the deputy had to say?"
"Pa gets out tomorrow at ten."
"Anything else?"
"Nothing that concerns you." Not exactly what he was hoping for, but at least a bit of spirit was showing up in her voice. "Listen," Mary said hesitatingly, getting Grady's full attention, "I appreciate what you're doing around here, and I know you mean well, but it'd be best if you stayed away after tomorrow. We don't need no more trouble, and it's best for us if we do what Pa wants."
"I understand what you're saying Mary, but I see things differently. I'll do my best to respect your wishes, but I did make a deal with those brothers of yours. You can't tell me it's best for me to go back on my word which, to my way of thinking, will teach them they don't need to be men of their word. Not for one second will I buy that as being a good idea."
Irritation flared in Mary's cerulean eyes. It seemed like she wanted to argue further, but instead, she nodded. Lifting her skirts slightly, she picked up the pace and got to the field ahead of him. Grady, for his part, managed to hide the cringing pain he felt in his gut when he saw the field these boys were trying to prepare for planting. It was clear they didn't have any idea what they were doing, and he'd been wrong to assume otherwise. The field was far from ready. A lot of work needed to be done before it had any hope of producing a strong and plentiful crop.
Knowing he was in for a long afternoon and evening, he pulled the boys aside and began to explain to them how they needed to prep the field, how important it was for the dirt to get broken up, and the easiest way to plow straight rows.
****
The sky had all but disappeared when the exhausted family made their way back to the farm house. Mary, her blue eyes clouded with fatigue, invited Grady in for supper. Taking in her tired appearance, he declined, saying his grandparents were waiting for him.
Mary told him to wait then stepped into the house. When she returned, she was carrying two pies balanced precariously in her hands. "One peach, one apple," she said. "You didn't bring me any strawberries." Mary's heart fluttered in her chest when Grady gave her a great big smile of gratitude, delight evident in his twinkling grey eyes. Whatever woman won this man's heart someday need know only one important fact, she figured. The way to his heart was through his sweet tooth.
Grady shook hands with each of the boys. He told them he'd see them around, and that they'd talk more about their arrangement after school was out for the summer.
Lizzie hadn't shown any additional affection for Grady since she held his hand while walking in to dinner, but he patted her gently on the shoulder and told her to be a good girl for Mary and her brothers. About to say goodbye to her, Grady had only a moment to brace himself for the impact when Gigi came flying off the porch toward him. She wrapped both arms around his legs and said, "I love you Mr. Grady. I wish you didn't have to go!"
If it hadn't already, Grady's heart tumbled headlong into love for the youngest Fitzgerald and her family. Picking Gigi up in his arms, he gave her a big hug and a noisy kiss on the cheek. "I love you, too, Gigi, and don't you worry. I'll be back again." He saw Mary scowl at him and wasn't sure if it was his declaration of love or his promise to return that got her back up.
Deciding not to ask, he tipped his hat to her and said, "Evenin' Mary."
Chapter Six
Grady was up long before the sun on Saturday. He'd decided not to return to the Fitzgerald farm until the boys were home for the weekend. He was on the front porch of his grandparents' house enjoying a cup of coffee when he heard the door behind him.
His grandparents hadn't said much to him about the Fitzgerald family since their talk the previous Monday, but he knew the subject hadn't been dropped. Gram and Gramps were worried about his plans to become a presence on their neighbor's farm. Swiveling his head, Grady saw Gramps bringing a cup of coffee out to join him in a neighboring rocking chair.
"Never thought I'd see the day when I'd look forward to sittin' in a rocking chair," Gramps said. "Always thought these things were for old biddies and little kiddies." Grady raised an eyebrow as Gramps laughed. "You got the right idea, don't worry. Enjoy that chair every chance you get. Someday you'll be old enough where rocking in that chair is pretty much all you can do, and then it won't be nearly so enjoyable as it is for you right now."
The men sat there in silence, drinking their coffee. Before long, Gramps cleared his throat, "So, Grady, you aim to head back over to the Fitzgerald place today?"
"Yes, sir."
"Figured as much." Watching the sun begin to peek over the horizon, Gramps went on, "Do you have a plan?"
"Well," Grady answered, "Those boys owe me some labor, so I'm going to go on over, see if they're needed on the farm today, and if they're not, I'll bring them back here with me and put them to work out in one of our fields. The way I figure it, if I keep our fields one step ahead of where they have theirs, then whenever I bring them over to help, I can put them to work doing whatever needs to happen next on their farm. They provide labor and feel like they're earning their keep, and while doing that, they get to learn what they need to know to make their land more profitable. They're trying their best, but those kids have absolutely no idea what they're doing over there. It's a miracle they've ever managed to get anything to grow the way they've been going about things."
"God's in the miracle business, you know," was Gramps' response.
"Yes, sir, He is." One of the great things about front porch conversations with his grandfather was that there no need for a lot of eye contact or fancy words. They watched the sunrise, spoke freely, and enjoyed each other's company.
"You probably have the right idea where those boys are concerned. What are you going to do about their pa?"
"If he's not there, it won't be an issue, I don't think."
"And if he is there?"
Knowing Gramps wasn't going to let it go, Grady decided he might as well tell Gramps what he'd come outside to learn. "I'll explain to him the deal I made with his boys and ask his permission to put them to work today. If he has a problem with it, then I'll try to reason with him, see if I can work something out."
"Money." When Grady gave him a blank look, Gramps continued, "If he's not agreeable, then offer to pay the lads something. Even if he doesn't like the idea, I have a feeling Fitzgerald will let you take the boys if he knows there's going to be money for him to get his hands on."
"You're awfully cunning for so early in the morning, Gramps."
The older man didn't respond to the comment but instead continued on as if he hadn't even heard it. "Do me a favor and be careful over there." When Grady started to protest, Gramps held up his hand to silence him, then continued, "You're here because your ma and pa trust us to keep you safe. You know you're all grown up, and I know you're all grown up, but your folks are never going to stop worrying about you. They're your folks, and that's the way it's supposed to be. I don't like the idea of you tangling with Fitzgerald, either, but, man to man, I respect your choice. I'll support you, but I need to know you're not going to do something foolhardy to get yourself hurt or worse. And while you're at it, try not to make things worse for them kids."
Grady nodded his understanding. "The last thing I want is to make their situation more precarious. I'll be careful. It's been years since I've spoken to Mr. Fitzgerald. He never much smiled or laughed, but he seemed like a decent enough sort. I hope, somewhere down inside, he still is. I plan on doin' whatever I can to help them for as long as I'm in town."
The two sat in silence for a spell. The air felt heavy with unspoken words, and Grady knew Gramps had more on his mi
nd. Grady got himself another cup of coffee and waited.
Before long, Gramps spoke up. "That Mary sure is a hard-working gal. Pretty, too, I'd say. It's a wonder she doesn't have a line of suitors."
"It's not like that, Gramps." Grady understood his grandfather's concern. He felt like they'd already been over this territory, however, and bit back the frustration he felt at having to repeat himself. He owed his grandfather the respect a lifetime of love warrants. Besides, he knew Gramps was going down this road for a reason. The older man rarely did anything without cause.
"Like what?" asked Gramps with feigned innocence.
"Come on, Gramps. Say it straight. You think I'm falling for Mary, right?"
"The thought has crossed my mind a time or two. She's a great gal, Grady, but she's not the same kid you used to play with when you'd visit during the summers."
"I hear you, Gramps. Courting's close to the last thing on my mind right now. I'm doing what I can to help all of them, not only Mary." After a pause, he added, "It's the right thing to do, and you know it."
"You're right, son. Forgive an old man for meddling."
"You're not done, are you? I can hear it in your voice."
With an easy chuckle that belied his bulldog appearance, Grady's grandfather went on, "You know me well. Do you know why I'm worried?"
"You don't want me getting emotionally involved with someone that's not committed to God," Grady answered with certainty in his voice.
"Sure, that's part of it," Gramps said, tapping his hand on his knee in rhythm with his rocker's motion. "Here's the thing that really worries me, though. You can't do for others without coming to care for them. I'm worried the more you try to help that family, the more you're going to care for them – all of them – whether you intend to or not. How are you going to handle it when you head back to Texas at the end of the summer?"
Grady ran his hand over his face, not wanting to address the question his grandfather was asking. He'd given this a lot of thought and had put to rest all his own doubts. This particular concern had never occurred to him, though, and he didn't like the heavy feeling in his chest evoked by his grandfather's words. Pushing aside a fog of undefined emotions, Grady gave the only sensible answer he could think of. "I don't know yet, but I'll find a way to deal with it when the time comes. My home is in Texas, and lending a helping hand to one of your neighbors isn't going to change that."
"Not worried about you missing them," Gramps said cryptically. When Grady looked at him in question, he continued, "I'm more worried about how it'll eat you up worrying about them, knowing you're not here to protect and look out for them. After a summer of spending time with them, I'm not sure you'll be able to handle walking away."
"Okay, Gramps," Grady bit out. "You've said your peace. I don't have an answer, and it's not going to change what I'm doing now. I'll have to deal with that when the time comes. Should I care less now because it might hurt me later?"
"No, I don't rightly think so."
"Would you love Gram less today if you knew she was going to die tomorrow?" Gramps gave Grady a hard look, eyes wide with displeasure, his lips tightly pressed together. Knowing he'd crossed a line, especially in light of his grandparents' age, Grady tried to pull the words back, "I know it's not the same thing Gramps, but hear me out. It might be hard for me to deal with whatever happens down the road, but I can't let fear of what might happen stop me from carin' for that family in the here and now."
Turning back to the sunrise, Gramps said, "I'm tellin' you what's on my mind. Not sayin' I have the answer."
"Do you worry about me falling in love with Mary?" Grady wasn't quite sure where the question had come from, but once the words were out, he realized how much he wanted to hear his grandfather's answer.
"Sometimes." The cryptic response didn't shed much light on the subject for Grady. Before he could demand more of an answer, Gramps continued, "I think even if you do fall for her, you'll stand by your faith. I worry more about you feeling like you're backed into a corner and thinking the way to help her is marriage. That concerns me some."
Downing the last of the coffee in his cup, Grady asked, "What does Gram think?"
With a snort, Gramps said, "She won't say nothin' to you, but she's done already bought material to make a wedding dress for Mary. Says she's positive that girl's gonna be getting married before summer's out, whether it's to you or someone else." When Grady regarded Gramps in surprise, the older man put his hands up, as if in surrender, "Hey, I'm merely sayin' what she told me. She loves those kids and wishes we could do more to help them."
****
Grady, hat shading his eyes, sat astride his proud Texas sorrel as he came into the yard in front of the Fitzgerald farmhouse. In his mind, he saw the faded wood painted a nice soft blue and found himself wondering what color Mary would paint the house if she ever had an opportunity. The sound of shovel hitting packed earth shook him out of his musings.
It was a sound he knew well. Someone was either digging a grave or preparing to plant a garden. He hoped for the latter. The shoveling stopped when Grady's horse whinnied in the quiet of the morning.
Grady climbed off the horse and was looping his reigns over the railing on the front porch when Mary came around from his left. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "The school year's not over yet."
"Right you are," Grady answered. "They've still got another week for school. I thought I'd stop in and see if they have some free time today. Could use their help if they don't mind."
Mary's mouth tightened in irritation. "They're not here. You shouldn't be here either."
Grady would have much preferred to be greeted with the offer of hot coffee and pie, but he was not one to give up. "Those pies you made sure were good. I enjoyed every bite. When do you expect the boys back?"
Thrown by the compliment, Mary momentarily let her guard down. Grady saw the slightest softening in the scowl lines around her mouth, the shifting of shadows in her blue eyes that let the barest hint of light come through. "They should be back before much longer. What do you need them for?"
Wanting Mary to trust him, he answered congenially, "Gramps has been cutting back the last few years, and I haven't been able to make it up north to help him until this year. I've got some fields that need to be prepped for planting. They're in pretty bad shape. Thought I'd put the boys to work today so we can start with planting next Saturday."
"They're going to need to do some planting here next Saturday."
"I thought maybe if they helped me with my planting first, I could return the favor and help them with theirs when the time comes." Grady didn't say how badly the boys needed some pointers on how to most effectively plant their field. He didn't mention that, if they understood the process of prepping the field first, it would help them to be able to plant more than the one measly field they were planning to cultivate this summer.
Grady could see the wheels turning in Mary's head. He guessed her pa wasn't around and she was trying to figure out how to get rid of him as quickly as possible. Not to be deterred, he asked, "Are the girls around? Least I can do is say hi to them while I'm here."
The tightness returned around Mary's mouth, and she gave him a full-fledged scowl to boot. "They're helping their brothers. I'll tell them you said hi, and I'll send the boys over when they get back. Satisfied?"
Hiding a grin, Grady decided to needle her a bit more, "Is your pa here? Ought to introduce myself. It's been a long time. I'll be seein' a lot of him this summer, especially if the boys are helping me out. Not sure if he remembers me. It's been five years or so since I last saw him."
Spearing the shovel into the ground at her feet, Mary fisted her hands and planted them on her hips. "No, Grady, Clive is not here. No, Grady, Bobby is not here. No, Grady, Lizzie is not here. No, Grady, Gigi is not here. No, Grady, Pa is not here. Can I help you with anything else?"
Realizing he'd pushed too far, Grady backed away with a look of contrition on his face. "Sorry Mary.
I ought to know to quit while I'm ahead. Does this mean I won't get any more pie this summer?"
With little ceremony, Mary pointed to Grady's horse and said, "Go."
Grady turned to leave, stopped and pivoted back to face Mary. He ignored her glare and said, "Your pa was probably good and angry when he got out of jail."
Mary's face was guarded as she said, "Mad at the sheriff."
"Was he mad at any of you?" Grady still hadn't told Mary he knew about the scene at the picnic.
"What business is it of yours?" she asked suspiciously.
"I hear things," he said, dodging the obvious. "I wondered is all."
"Not that it has anything to do with you," Mary said grudgingly, "but Pa was on a real bender before he got arrested. The deputy who came to tell us he'd be coming home let me know Pa couldn't even remember what landed him in jail to begin with."
Not wanting Mary to see how relieved he was, Grady got back on his horse then tipped his wide-brimmed Boss of the Plains hat to Mary and said, "Send the boys on over whenever they return, and tell the girls I said hi." With that, he maneuvered his horse around and headed on down the drive.
****
Mary stared long after Grady was out of sight. It was easy to see the man was a rancher. From his muscular stance to his sunbaked tan, she had no trouble picturing him wrestling calves away from their mamas so they could get branded.
When she did finally return to her garden, she put a lot more force into her shoveling than necessary. She wondered why Grady got under her skin so easily. Realizing she was going to have to apologize to him for her snappy behavior, she tossed the shovel down in the dirt and went to go wash up so she could start making a pie.
By the time Mary got the pie crust rolled out and ready to place in the tin, she'd calmed down. She settled on baking him a sweet cream pie. While it was a challenging pie to get right, it wasn't nearly as difficult as learning to hold her temper in Grady's presence was proving to be. What was it about him that always seemed to bring out the worst in her? She knew better than to treat people the way she did Grady, and yet she couldn't seem to stop herself…
