by Heather Gray
****
Grady, who had been watching from the front window, came banging out the front door. "Mary!" he yelled, waking the entire house full of kids and any hens still sleeping. He lifted Mary's still form from the sheriff's arms. The children came bursting out the front door as he reached the porch with her. Their faces, filled with fear, reminded him of that day a veritable lifetime ago when he'd given them a ride home from the church picnic.
As he tenderly laid Mary on the couch, he tried to find the words to tell her brothers and sisters she would be okay. Logically, he knew it was only a faint and that she would soon wake. That logic couldn't still his racing heart, though, as the aftereffects of the terror he'd felt when he saw her collapse continued to course through his veins.
Grady could no longer deny it. His feelings had grown far beyond those of a considerate neighbor. Looking at her pale face, he knew what his grandfather had apparently known from the start: his heart was in trouble.
****
Mary's skin felt like crinkly paper, and everything she heard sounded as if it was coming from a great distance. She concentrated as much as she could, and everything gradually came into focus. Opening her eyes, she found she was in her own living room with six worried gazes stuck to her like curl to a pig's tail. "Wh…" her voice cracked. She tried again, "What happened?"
Not wanting anyone to worry, Mary forced herself to sit up only to find it made her woozy again. Fighting the light-headedness, she focused on the person right in front of her. Grady was hunkered down beside the couch, gaze dark with concern, her hand in his. Focusing on Grady's warm grey eyes, Mary found strength in their depths. She fought to regain her equilibrium so she could reassure Gigi and the others she was okay. Slowly moving her head, Mary cast her gaze around to make eye contact with each of her brothers and sisters. It took all her attention to say the words without slurring, "I'm okay everyone. Go outside and play."
As soon as Clive, casting a doubtful look at her, ushered the younger ones out of the room, Mary wanted to collapse back into the couch cushions. Truth be told, she wanted to curl up under a blanket and avoid the light of day for a good long while. Instead, she leaned back against the couch, one hand tightly grasping her skirt, the other still resting in Grady's reassuring grasp. "Sheriff, he used to be a good man and a good pa. I can't reconcile what you're telling me with the memories I have."
"I understand, Mary," Sheriff Spooner said, "but I do believe your ma protected you in much the same way you protect the others. She knew of our suspicions, and, truthfully, she wasn't surprised when I told her about them. I came out to talk to her once because I knew your pa was in town. She had bruises on her arm. I caught her by surprise while she was doing laundry, and her sleeves were pushed up, otherwise I never would have seen them. She wouldn't tell me straight out where they came from. All she would say on the matter is that she would do whatever it took to protect her children."
"Why are you telling me all this?" resentment shaped the vowels in her words.
"A couple reasons. One, when you go through your pa's things, if you find anything you think seems out of place or might not belong, put it aside and let me see it. There was some stolen property involved in the case I mentioned to you earlier, and if we find that, then I can tell those families we found the man responsible for the death of their loved ones, giving them at least some measure of peace."
The sheriff stood there, hat in hand. He was far enough away from the couch that Mary shouldn't feel threatened, and yet she did. She couldn't get past that instinctive reaction. "Two, I felt you needed to know. It's okay to hold onto good memories. I didn't think you should hold onto false ones, though." Sheriff Spooner scratched his head and made his black hair stand on end before he continued. "Keeping secrets is all well and good when survival is on the line, but if the threat's gone, maybe you ought to consider shining the light of day on some things. It might help you and the young'uns if you give it a chance."
"Is it your place to determine how we remember our father?"
"No, I s'pose it's not." Shoving his hat back on his head with jerky movements, Sheriff Spooner headed toward the door. He paused before opening it to leave, though, and turned to Mary, "Those kids are smarter than you give them credit for. I think they know more about what's going on than you want them to. You're doing a fine job, Mary. If it weren't for you protecting them all these years, who knows what would have happened. Give this some thought. That's all I'm sayin'." Then, giving her a piercing look, he added, "You might not need to protect them anymore." He let the door fall softly closed behind him as he left.
Grady's face was confused and concerned. Mary pulled her hand from his grasp and, getting up, went to the front door and opened it for him. "Thank you for stopping by, Grady."
Puzzlement widened his eyes and rounded his expression as he said, "This is my regular day here on the farm. Are you sending me away?"
The question hung between them, and she didn't know what to say. She wanted to apologize for her outburst this morning, but the words choked her. She wanted to rail at the sheriff for bringing up bad memories, but she was trapped by the fear he'd unwittingly evinced in her. So many thoughts were teeming through her mind, but the only words she could get out were, "Sorry. I forgot." Then Mary swiveled sharply on her toes and headed into the kitchen to begin fixing breakfast for everyone.
"Mary," Grady's tentative voice came from right behind her, startling her so she dropped the pan used for eggs. She paused in her movements, not even trying to pick up the pan. She couldn't make herself turn around. When Grady's hands rested on her shoulders, her muscles first quivered and then tensed. Grady gently shifted her to face him and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. "It's okay, Mary. I don't understand what all that was about, but it's going to be okay. Y'all are all fine, and your pa can't hurt you no more."
Arms hanging at her sides, Mary desperately wanted to lift them and encircle Grady. The harder she fought the urge, the more her muscles tightened until she was stiff as a board. How wonderful it would feel, she thought, to be held by a man like Grady, to have someone like him to lean on and look to in times of trouble. He made her feel safe, and part of her hated him for it, a part of her that was twisted, dark, and ugly. It made no sense at all, even to her. How could she resent him for being everything she could ever want in a man?
Because you know you can't have him. He's everything you want and will never be good enough have.
He was out of her reach, though, and she knew it. She remembered more of church from when Ma was alive than she let on to the young'uns. She knew a believer wasn't supposed to marry a non-believer. So Grady was forever out of her grasp. Besides, no man in his right mind would want anything to do with her. She had so many emotions swirling inside her most of the time that she didn't know how to make sense of them. She got angry when she should be happy, and she wanted to cry when she should shout. Nothing inside of her was normal, and it seemed to her like it never would be. Having Grady hold her like this with his strong comforting arms was a torture too sweet to bear.
Mary broke from his embrace. "I don't feel well. I'm going to go lay down."
****
Grady was certain Mary had never, in all the years since her ma had passed away, climbed back into bed and left her siblings to fend for themselves. Looking around the kitchen in consternation, he decided he would do his best to fix breakfast for the kids. He bent over to pick up the dropped pan then stood back up to find four pairs of eyes watching his movements from just inside the front door. The children wore a shroud of unease.
"I thought I might cook breakfast?" he asked. Then, shaking the lack of confidence out of his voice he tried again, "Mary is fine, but she went to lie down. I was going to fix you breakfast."
"Can we go see her?" Lizzie and Gigi asked at the same time.
Grady decided, even if she wanted to escape for a bit, she wouldn't be happy if she knew the others were worried, "You can go up and see her one
at a time, okay?"
Bounding up the stairs, Clive said over his shoulder, "I'll go first." The younger girls hadn't stood a chance at beating him. They waited together at the foot of the stairs, holding hands.
****
By the time everyone had seen Mary, Grady had given up on breakfast. While he was worried about Mary, his concern for her brothers and sisters grew exponentially as each of them came back down the stairs after seeing their older sister. They did not appear any more at ease, let alone comforted. In fact, they each came down seeming less relaxed and more worried. Trying not to be irritated at Mary for putting her own feelings first for a change, he announced, "Change of plans! We'll go let Gram fix us breakfast, how's that?"
When he got four nods but not a lot of change in expression, he added, "Y'all don't want to eat my cooking. Trust me. I can barely stand my own cooking when I'm desperate. The one thing I don't ruin is coffee, and I think we all need a bit more than coffee this morning." Grady was thinking of his grandmother's loving and nurturing touch. That was what these kids needed this morning. No doubt about it.
"I need to deliver the eggs and milk first," Clive said.
"Tell you what," Grady said, beginning to feel more confident in the situation now that he wasn't going to have to cook. "Lizzie and Gigi, you go get the eggs. Clive, milk the cow. Bobby, walk on up the road and let Gram and Gramps know I'm bringing everyone for breakfast, and tell them we're going to town first. The rest of us will take the wagon to go deliver the goods before breakfast."
When Gigi tugged on his pant leg, Grady peered down at her in question. "Can we get dressed first?"
Grady laughed when he realized Gigi and Lizzie were still in their nightgowns. The boys were dressed, probably because they'd slept in their clothes. "Why, Gigi, don't you think the hens would understand pajamas?"
"The hens might, but I don't think Mrs. Ginty would!" Gigi said, referring to the woman they sold their milk and eggs to. The giggle in Gigi's voice and expression, much to Grady's relief, broke the tension in the room.
Glad to see the worry easing from their foreheads, Grady said in a mock formal voice, "Well, Miss Margaret Fitzgerald, you'd best get yourself changed out of that nightgown then, hadn't you? We wouldn't want to give poor Mrs. Ginty heart palpitations, would we?"
The girls scurried upstairs, and the boys headed outside. Without having to be asked to do so, Bobby headed straight for the coop to go collect the eggs while the girls got changed. Grady stepped into the coop to help him. As soon as they were out of sight of the others, Bobby asked, "Is Mary going to be okay? Is she sick?"
Grady had been a fool to think the worry was gone. He realized now, at least for this child, any humor had been for the benefit of the girls. He was worried sick. "The sheriff gave her some news, and it upset her. She fainted. She's going to be fine, but she does need to rest. I think she's been pushing herself a little too hard and needs a day to herself. She'll be back to normal in no time at all."
"What news did the sheriff have for her?"
Sighing, Grady considered his options. He finally said, "I think she'd be upset with me if I told you. So tell me what you really want to know, and I'll see if there's a way I can answer that question without giving away more than I think Mary'd want me to."
"Is one of us in trouble? Are we going to lose the farm? Is the sheriff going to take us away from Mary and make us go to an orphanage?"
Shocked by the many concerns this young boy had, Grady realized he'd not fully considered how precarious their situation was. No, he corrected himself. He knew how delicate things were but hadn't realized the boys understood, too. Happy to reassure Bobby, he said, "None of the above. The sheriff needed to talk to her about something that happened a long time ago. It had nothing to do with any of you. Nobody is in trouble. It came as a shock to Mary and upset her." After a short pause, Grady added, "Also, so you know, I've already talked to the sheriff about whether or not he is going to split this family up, and you don't need to worry about it. If Mary were a lot younger, it might be a problem. But she's eighteen now, and as long as she is able to keep y'all fed, clothed, and out of trouble, the sheriff is happy to leave y'all here with her. If there's ever a serious problem, he'll try to work with her first to get it fixed so he doesn't have to take y'all."
"What kinds of things would he consider a problem?"
"Well," Grady answered, as they stepped out of the coop and carried the baskets of eggs over to the wagon, "If winter came, and y'all didn't have enough food and he thought you might not survive because of it, that would be trouble. That's the kind of difficulty, though," Grady added, "neighbors help with. When you're part of a community, and even part of a church family, people pull together when times are tough and help each other out."
"You mean," Bobby asked quietly, watching as Clive began approaching from the barn, "if it looked like we were in trouble, people might help us out so the sheriff didn't have to take us away?"
"No, Bobby," Grady said, putting a hand on his shoulder when the boy's face fell. Forcing eye contact, Grady continued, "I don't mean people might help. I mean people will help. Definitely. Without hesitation." Grady felt ten feet tall when Bobby's face brightened.
"I'm gonna cut through the trees to get to your place, Grady. See y'all when you get there!" Bobby waved his arm in the air to say goodbye as he took off at a run toward the Wilkes farm. Grady might have been mistaken, but he was pretty sure he heard a whoop or two from Bobby along the way.
As the girls came rushing out of the house and everyone piled into the wagon, Grady realized something important. He wasn't just in trouble where Mary was concerned. Each of these children, including the bristly Clive, had laid claim to a piece of his heart. He would get them settled with Gram and Gramps.
Then he would have to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with Mary.
Chapter Seventeen
Gram kept the girls occupied as the day wore on. They baked, made paper dolls, and even started sewing quilts. The girls' stitches were oversized and clumsy, but they were both showing improvement as they continued to work at it. Lizzie, especially, seemed to enjoy the quilting. Grady kept the boys busy at different tasks around the farm all morning. A bit later in the day, Grady handed the reigns over to Gramps and Clive.
"All right, gentlemen, this is how the afternoon is going to go. Bobby, Clive," Grady said, looking straight at the boys, "I've shown you a lot about farming, and I think you both have a solid idea about what needs to happen for the rest of the day, what things need attention. Clive," he continued, with a firm nod toward the young man, "you are in charge. Gramps and Bobby are your employees, and you need to tell them what to do and help them stay on task."
Seeing the twinkle in Gramps' eyes, Grady spun on his heel and walked away. Today would be an important day for Clive. Grady remembered back all those years ago when Gramps had done this same thing to him. The older man had put Grady in charge and wouldn't tell him what to do. It had felt awkward and uncomfortable at first, but he eventually got the hang of directing others, even his own grandfather. There had been a couple times he'd made less-than-sterling choices, but Gramps had never told him so. He'd let the experience continue till Grady figured things out for himself.
Grady was confident Gramps wouldn't allow Clive to make any decisions that would put anyone at risk. He would have stayed and seen to this himself, but his gut told him he needed to go check on Mary. Once his horse was saddled, Grady mounted up and headed out for the Fitzgerald farm. He arrived to find the front door open and Mary furiously sweeping the house. Dust was flying out the door and, he was pretty sure, through some of the cracks in the walls and around the windows. The walls would need to be better sealed before his time in Larkspur was finished.
He knocked loudly, but it wasn't until Grady was consumed by a fit of coughing from the dust being launched into the air that Mary realized she had company.
"What do you want?" she demanded.
"I
wanted to check and see if you were okay. The kids are worried about you, and I thought I should check on you before bringing them back over here a bit later."
"I'm fine." Her answer was as abrupt as her broom strokes.
Waving his arm in an attempt to create a clean-air bubble in front of his face, Grady finally said, "Mary, will you please put the broom down and tell me what's got you in such a dither? You're kicking up more dirt than a bucking bronco." By the look on her face, Grady was fairly certain she was struggling with a desire to throw the broom straight at his head. Trying a different tact, he said, "The sheriff told me what he talked to you about."
"He had no business doing that."
"I threatened to kill him if he didn't." Mary's eyebrows shot up. "He probably knew I wouldn't follow through. All I could tell, though, is you were mad at me but perfectly healthy one minute and then passed out cold the next. You didn't even flutter an eyelash when we moved you indoors to the couch. Sheriff Spooner was not getting away without a good explanation, that's all there was to it."
Mary seemed bound and determined to hold onto her anger. There was no lessening of the tense lines around her mouth, no change in the violent grip she had on the broom, no laughter leaking into the corners of her cerulean eyes.
Trying again, Grady asked, "Can you tell me what has you so agitated? It seems like it's got to be more than just your pa."
Grady watched as Mary shattered before him. The tight control she had been holding since he'd first come face to face with her as she fled the church picnic evaporated before his eyes. Mary shrieked and threw the broom at Grady's feet. "He wants me to believe Ma hid things from us, that Pa was always an awful man, possibly even a murderer! He comes in here and takes away every precious memory I have of my family before Ma's death." Her arms were swinging wildly as she emphasized her point. "He threatens everything I have fought to build for my brothers and sisters! I didn't ask to be their keeper! I didn't decide when I was fourteen to be Ma to a passel of kids who were angry and hurt! I did it because I had to!" Mary's fingers were dangerously close to jabbing Grady in the chest as she stepped closer with each yell. "Because I loved them and wanted to make Ma proud! And life was fine! We were getting along fine until you came along!"
