Dani thought back to other birthdays. Never had she been made to feel so special, and from two people she’d only known a few weeks.
“Well, don’t just sit there. Open it.” Mama Beth’s voice took on impatience.
She tore through the paper and opened the box, immediate laughter spilling from her throat. “I love it! My first country clothes.” She held up the denim overalls.
“It’s about time.” Steve grinned and winked.
Dani remembered his comment about her clothing on the ride into Miller’s Creek and returned a sheepish grin before looking at Mama Beth.
Her face had taken on an enigmatic sheen, but then she seemed to snap out of it and clasped her hands together. “Well, why don’t we fix our dinner plates so we can cut into the cake?”
Steve’s laughter ripped the air. “Too late.”
They turned to look in the direction of his gaze and Mama Beth raised both hands to let out a “Hyeah!”
Unfazed, Little Bit continued her stance in the middle of the cake, licking chocolate frosting from her mouth and nose.
~~o~~
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mamas and Marigolds
Steve strode across the yard to his parents’ house early one morning spurred on by guilt. He’d delayed this visit far too long. In the weeks following the town hall meeting, his life had accelerated from fast to super-sonic-speed, and it was all he could do to keep up. He clamped his lips. Dani’s idea for Miller’s Creek had taken root like an invasive weed. Even the old geezers had formed a construction team, their constant questions and ideas driving him nuts. He was ready to inform them they could paint the whole town purple with pink polka dots for all he cared.
To make matters worse, not an hour went by when he didn’t think of Dani. Her tireless efforts on the behalf of Mama Beth and the town evoked a stronger reaction in him than anticipated, and he had to make a concentrated effort to stay away. If the truth be told, only two things held him back. Her earlier request for nothing but friendship, and more importantly, the fact that she still hadn’t professed faith in God. A heavy sigh poured out of him. Life would be a lot easier when she moved back to Dallas. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
He paused in front of the main house and brought a hand up to shield his eyes from the morning sun. To call the massive structure a farmhouse or even a ranch house was an understatement. More like a Southern mansion. If his mother’s goal had been to impress, she’d succeeded. Mom insisted on having this house built, a tribute to her Southern roots, and they’d moved from the family home in town, the house Mama Beth now owned. He turned his head to view the ancient live oaks which shaded the large circular drive, then trudged up the steps that led to the front door.
Steve entered the two-story foyer, complete with marble floors and an over-sized crystal chandelier. His boots thudded against the floor and echoed in the spacious room. Bypassing the grandiose staircase, he strode down the hall, his thoughts on his mother. The seven years of her illness seemed like a lifetime. He drew in a deep breath to prepare himself for what lay ahead then stopped outside the open door. Dad was stationed on one side of the hospital bed and a nurse on the other.
“Come on, honey, let’s try another bite.” Bo Miller held a spoon in his large hand, his voice pleading.
“Don’t want it.” His mother turned her head away, her lips pinched.
“But you’ve hardly eaten a bite. Please try. For me?”
Mom blurted out a string of expletives that would’ve once embarrassed her Southern sensibilities. Dad lowered the spoon and his head. His big shoulders sagged.
Steve breathed a quick prayer for help then rapped on the door frame. Dad looked up with weary eyes. “Come on in, Son. Maybe you’ll have better luck than I am.”
He smiled at his father and the nurse as he approached the bed, his heart stone-heavy, the scent of fresh flowers mingling with medicinal smells. How much longer could they endure seeing her like this? “Hi, Mom.”
“Who are you?” Her blank stare and derisive tone pierced his heart.
“I’m Steve, your son. Remember?”
“I don’t have a son. Get out of my house.”
He fixed his gaze on Dad, uncertain of what to do.
His father motioned toward the door with a jerk of his head. “I’ll join you in a minute. Go ahead and step out.”
Steve shuffled to the hallway, unable to halt the sudden rush of tears. He released a ragged breath then pushed down the bitter taste in his mouth. Footsteps sounded on the stone floors, and he swiped at his wet cheeks. Dad didn’t need any more grief.
Strong arms encircled him. “It’s okay to cry, Son.”
Steve hugged him back and swallowed against the pain in his throat. “I know. I just don’t want to burden you with my grief. You’ve got enough to deal with.”
His father pulled away. “You’re not burdening me.” Dad sniffed and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “It helps to have someone understand what I’m going through. She doesn’t know me half the time.” He stuffed the cloth in his back pocket and pointed a gnarled finger at him. “If I ever see you trying to hide your crying from me again, I’ll take you to the wood shed.”
Steve smiled through a mist of tears. “I’ll remember that.”
“You have time to sit and visit?”
He didn’t, but he’d make time.
They traveled to the terrace, canopied by live oak trees, and sat on the wooden patio chairs. “Son, I appreciate all you’ve done for the ranch these past few years. I couldn’t have made it without you.” Dad’s voice quivered.
“And I couldn’t have done it without Clay.” Steve leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, his gaze trained on a trail of ants. “Without his help as ranch foreman, there’s no way I could serve as mayor.” He struggled to find a topic to take Dad’s mind off his problems. “You should see downtown.”
“So I’ve heard. Sounds like Beth’s niece had a good idea.”
Was it a good idea? On one hand, it had created a new spark of life in Miller’s Creek, and for that he was grateful. But how could they keep going with a shortage of funds? His plan would’ve corrected that issue. “Yeah, but we need more money. The donation from HomeAcres Building Supply is only going to stretch so far.”
His father stared toward the fields, a vacant look in his eyes.
Steve patted him on the back. “You okay?”
Dad shook his head and let out a shuddering breath. “Your mama’s going down in a hurry. The doctor thinks in a few months she’ll be gone.”
The words knotted his stomach. How much more could Dad endure? The illness had taken its toll. His shoulders were more stooped, hair more gray, face awash with fatigue. Steve patted his father’s arm. “I’m worried about you.”
The big man’s eyes watered. “It’s just so hard to see her like this. Only God’s grace gets me through each day.” He rubbed his chin and blinked away tears. “How’s Beth doing?”
“Doing well. A little tired from the radiation, but her prognosis is good.”
A tender look crossed his face. “Glad to hear it. Now tell me about this niece of hers.”
Steve clenched his jaw. Should he start with her bullheadedness or the big blue eyes that sometimes kept him awake at night?
~~o~~
Dani gave a happy sigh and inhaled the flower-scented air. What was there about a beautiful June day that made you feel like a kid? In some ways she’d never really had a childhood, but nothing stopped her now. She tilted her face and spun around, arms flung to the side in joyous abandon.
When she stopped, the landscape continued to spin for a few seconds. Her head finally cleared, and she viewed her recent work in Mama Beth’s garden. Knowing she’d planted and nourished these small pieces of life brought satisfaction. Like the flowers she’d planted this morning, she was a transplant, but the move had gifted her with the home she’d always longed for and a chance to start her life anew.
&nb
sp; She watched as Little Bit busied herself chasing a grasshopper then looked up as another car drove by at a crawl, the old women inside craning their necks to stare as they passed. Her happy mood spiraled to the ground and crashed. The one thing she didn’t like about life in Miller’s Creek. Nosy people. A scowl planted itself on her face as they continued to stare. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”
The screen door slammed. Mama Beth stood on the porch with a glass of fresh-squeezed lemonade which she raised toward Dani. “I brought you some lemonade. How’s the gardening going?”
“Good. I still have more to plant, but I don’t mind. I’m having a wonderful time.” She ambled to the porch for a drink, studying the woman who’d become such a vital part of her life. Every day she looked better. “Thanks, Mama Beth.”
A slow smile spread across her aunt’s features.
Dani cocked an eyebrow. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She guzzled the tangy lemonade, quenching her thirst.
“It still takes me by surprise when you call me Mama Beth, but I like it.” Her voice lilted like that of a happy child.
She gave her a hug. How she loved this woman! “The longer I’m around you, the more you feel like my Mama.”
A dark frown altered her aunt’s face. “Have you talked to Cecille lately?”
Well, that was a great way to ruin the day. “I’ve tried, but she’s still mad.” The hum of another slow-moving vehicle caught her attention. “What is it with these people? They’ve been driving by all morning, gawking like I was an animal at the zoo.”
Her aunt laughed. “Don’t be too hard on them. They’re just curious.”
“That’s no excuse. Haven’t they ever heard of privacy?”
An I-told-you-so look replaced Mama Beth’s smile. “I tried to tell you that life in a small town would be different.”
“And I expected it to be, but I didn’t expect this.”
Otis Thacker, the next-door neighbor, appeared at the fence, his hands on his hips.
Dani blew a puff of air between her lips. Not him again. “Snoopy neighbor alert.”
“Morning, Otis! How are you?” Mama Beth called out and waved an arm in the air.
“Fine.” He glowered as he took in her gardening work on the side of the yard that edged his own. “That niece of yours planted cannas over here.”
She grimaced. Now he was going to tell her what to plant and where to plant it? In her own yard?
Mama Beth placed an arm around Dani’s shoulder. “I told her to plant what she wanted. I can’t work the garden this year, so I’ve turned it over to her. She’s done a marvelous job, hasn’t she?”
“Well, I’d thank you to have her move ’em somewhere else. They’ll get so tall they’ll block the morning sun from my tomatoes.”
Gladys Thacker joined her husband at the fence. “How much longer is Cecille’s girl going to be here anyway?”
How rude! It wasn’t like she was holding all-night parties and disturbing the peace. Dani crossed her arms and shifted her feet. “My name’s Dani, you old snoop.” She kept her voice lowered, but her temper continued its ascent.
Mama Beth giggled then spoke to Gladys. “Just ’til I get better.”
Dani stretched her lips into a tight line. Could she ever convince her aunt that a permanent move was for the best? Since the gentle nudges didn’t appear to be working, maybe she needed a shove. “I’m actually thinking about moving to Miller’s Creek,” she shouted to Gladys.
Her aunt’s eyebrows shot up her forehead.
“Why would you want to do that for?” Gladys Thacker’s scratchy voice split the air.
“So all you busybodies can stick your nose in my business.” The words ripped from her mouth before she could stop them, and she popped a hand over her loose lips.
Mama Beth’s mouth flew open and consternation sparked in her eyes. “Dani!”
Immediate remorse washed over her. She turned to apologize, but the Thackers stormed away from the fence, their heads wagging. Okay, maybe she’d carried this childhood thing a little too far.
~~o~~
Later that day Dani finished planting the last flat of marigolds in the side yard, brushed her hands on her new denim overalls, and tightened the bandana she’d tied around her hair to keep it out of her face. She looked and felt like a bona fide country girl. A smile spread her lips out wide.
With a happy hum she picked up the aluminum watering can and moved over to the marigolds, their pungent scent filling the air. She knelt to give them a drink. The hum turned into a happy tune that burst from her lips. “The farmer in the dell, the farmer in the dell, hi-ho the derry-o, the farmer in the—”
“Be careful you don’t drown those plants.”
Heat scurried to her cheeks, and she jerked her head around to see Steve standing near the corner of the house. She jumped to her feet, her gardening clogs slipping on the saturated ground, and landed in the middle of the marigolds. On her backside.
Steve doubled over with loud guffaws, tears rolling down his face.
She sent him a daggered glare. It wasn’t that funny.
He caught his breath and wiped his face. “Sorry I laughed, but that’s the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time.” He ambled toward her to offer a hand, his face still creased with laughter. “You all right?”
Okay, cowboy, payback time. She bent toward her ankle, careful to keep her face hidden. “I don’t know. I think I may have sprained something.”
He squatted down next to her, his face full of concern.
Opportunity pounded on the door. She grabbed a handful of mud and plopped it on top of his unsuspecting head. Dark streams of goo trickled down his face. That would teach him to laugh at her. She dissolved into a fit of the giggles. “Sorry I’m laughing,” she mimicked in a singsong fashion, “but that’s the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time.”
The look in his eyes . . . no! “Oh no, you don’t!” She sprang to her feet and bolted for the front yard. A wad of muck made contact between her shoulder blades, and she let out a scream.
Dani turned to see Steve make a fist in the air and bring his elbow down in a motion of victory. “Yes!” He beamed a triumphant gloat.
This fight wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. She bent down to pick up mud balls to chunk at him and he returned the favor. One of his tosses pelted her in the face and deposited grit in her mouth.
The back door slammed. “What’s wrong?” Mama Beth flew through the gate, panic in her voice.
They both froze in their spots, the look on Steve’s face like that of a naughty schoolboy caught in the act.
Mama Beth’s tongue clicked louder than Dani had ever heard. “Good gracious! Just look at the two of you.” Then she spied the yard. “And look at my garden!”
She thought fast. “Steve started it.” While Mama Beth ogled the muddy mess, Dani turned to Steve and stuck out her tongue. She wasn’t about to take the blame for something he initiated.
Less than a second later a clump of mud landed on her head and oozed down toward her ear. Oh, he was going to pay for that. Mama Beth had seen it, and based on her expression, he was in big time trouble.
“Why, Steve Miller, I ought to box your ears.” Mama Beth accentuated his name with an indignant tone. Her lips pinched together then twitched.
She could play this to the hilt. Dani feigned a pout and hung her head, but gave him a sideways glance.
Steve chuckled under his breath. “Okay, I give. You win.”
“No, I win again. And you know what that makes you.” She used her thumb and index finger to make an L then mouthed the word, “Loser.”
His mouth swung half open then clamped shut again.
Mama Beth, still clicking her tongue, turned to go in the house. “Make sure you both clean off before you take one step in this house. I just cleaned the floors, and I won’t stand for you tracking mud in.”
“Yes ma’am,” Steve said dutifully.
Dani glanc
ed down at the mud-caked overalls. How in the world would she ever get it all off? She reached down and began swiping at the spots. “Just look at my new overalls. I’ll never get them clean.”
“Here maybe this will help.”
She glanced up just as Steve twisted the nozzle of the water hose, a defiant grin bigger than Texas stretched across his good-looking face.
~~o~~
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
From Despair, Hope
Steve stared at the living room clock and grimaced, raking fingers through his hair. Almost midnight, and the numbers looked as bleak as when he’d started. This is what he deserved for giving in to Dani’s plan too soon. The donation from the lumber company had dwindled to nothing. More projects than money, but what else was new? Last night he’d spent several hours pouring over the ranch accounts. The cost of feed had gone up again. They’d have to do really well at the bull sale in the fall and probably sell off a few cows in order to have a profitable year.
He laced his fingers behind his head and released a weary sigh. Burning the candle at both ends was burning him out. Scooting his chair closer to the desk, he laid his head atop folded arms and allowed his eyes to close. He’d just rest a few minutes before he ran the figures one last time.
The next thing he knew, the morning sun shone through the study window hitting him right in the face. He groggily lifted his head, wincing at the crick in his neck. One glance at the clock told him what he’d already suspected. He was late, and on Sunday of all days. Mama Beth and Dani had probably eaten breakfast, but there would still be coffee. It took every ounce of strength he could muster to stand and drag to the shower.
Pounding water on his neck muscles relieved some of the pain, but did nothing to alleviate his sour mood. Even reading his Bible took great effort, and his prayers seemed to dissipate in air above his head. Lord, I don’t know what’s wrong, except I’m exhausted. The people will be so disappointed if we get part way through this and have to quit. I can’t let them down. Show me what I need to do.
Texas Roads (A Miller's Creek Novel) Page 13
