by Arlene James
“Cold?”
“Not now,” she told him, laying her head on his shoulder and warming his heart. “Are you avoiding my question?”
He briefly considered avoiding that question, but he knew how he’d feel if the shoe were on the other foot, so to speak. He wanted perfect honesty from her, so he had to give her perfect honesty. He did not want to face his own culpability in his relationship with his father, but he couldn’t avoid that. Not anymore. Not after today.
“I don’t want to talk about my dad and me,” he said.
“Okay then.”
“I don’t want to,” he went on, “but I need to.”
She turned her face up to him, her cheek nesting in the hollow of his shoulder. “I’m listening.”
Zach gazed off into the darkness. The quiet out here on Waxwing Road felt absolute. Clayton and the rest of the world might as well not exist. He looked up at the sky. Millions of stars twinkled against the deep blackness of space. Yet, he did not feel small and insignificant; he felt as if God looked down upon him, as if God targeted him with His complete, patient, loving regard. Zach understood fully in that moment that he had more than one father—and that he still had a chance to be a good son.
He began to tell Kylie how like his grandfather his father had been. As he spoke, Zach recalled all the criticism of his grandfather that he’d heard from Samuel’s side of the family and even, on occasion, from his own mother. He could understand her problems with George Sr., but he saw now that he had let that criticism of his grandfather, whether just or not, color his image of his dad.
“I was too ready to take issue,” Zach decided, “too quick to judge. Dad was busy, but we might have spent more time together if I’d occasionally cut him a break. He was just a man, after all, like any other, but I expected him to be more than he could be. And he had his own problems with my grandfather.” Zach shook his head. “I cheated myself out of the close relationship with my dad that I actually wanted. I suspect that he did the same with my grandfather. I’m more like him than I knew.”
“Then he must have been a better man than you know,” Kylie said softly, sliding her arms around him.
Zach smiled, but so many thoughts clogged his mind that he barely heard her. How far did it go? he wondered. Had George Sr.’s judgments of Great-Grandpa Jim added distance to their relationship? If so, could that cycle be stopped? He had to believe that it could be, with honesty, realization and, most of all, God’s guidance.
Kylie offered no further comment. She didn’t argue or rationalize. She just held him while he spun apart. He hoped that when he came back together again, he would like what he had become. But would Kylie? More importantly, would God?
Father, he prayed silently, help me be all that You would have me be. Help me be a better man and Christian than I was a son. Help me be what Macy needs to fill that hole in her heart.
Suddenly he remembered what that elderly couple in the diner had said about how alike he and Macy were in appearance. He’d noticed her similarity to his sisters, but he’d never thought about any likeness that he might share with her. He remembered another incident, too.
“You know,” he said abruptly, “tonight wasn’t the first time I’ve been told that Macy and I bear a resemblance.”
Kylie lifted her head. “Really?”
He nodded. “The other day I ran into Macy and Darlene in the grocery store, and another woman walked by. I know her, but I’m not sure she recognized me. She’s five or six years older than me. Anyway, she stopped to talk to Darlene, but when she first walked up she said, ‘Boy, do you two look alike.’ I thought she meant Darlene and Macy, but she was smiling at me when she said it, and now that I think about it, Darlene and Macy don’t resemble each other all that much, do they?”
Kylie tilted her head as if picturing the pair in her mind’s eye. “No. They don’t. Although Macy does seem to have Darlene’s nose.”
“But Macy and I do,” he stated.
Wide-eyed, Kylie studied him. “It’s the Clayton dimple. And the shape of your faces.” She blinked, adding, “And the way your mouth moves sometimes.”
She stared off into space for a several moments, and then she asked, “Do you think Macy’s father might be a Clayton?”
“Yeah.” Zach nodded. “I do. In fact, I think it’s likely.”
“But who could it be?” she asked.
“I see plenty of possibilities,” he told her, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t you?”
“Yes.” She looked down at her knees, then said, “I don’t like gossip, but I’ve heard some speculation about how Darlene couldn’t afford her house and why she came here to Clayton to live. It all makes sense if one of the Claytons is Macy’s father and he paid her off to keep quiet about it.”
“Unfortunately, for much of my family that idea is not outside the realm of possibility.”
“Doesn’t paint a very pretty picture of Darlene, though, does it?” Kylie said sadly.
Zach shrugged. “How many women do you know who trusted the wrong man?”
“True. And I have to admit that Darlene is a wonderful mother. She would do anything for Macy, including keeping her mouth shut in order to put a roof over her head.”
“That must be why Darlene asked Brooke and Gabe to raise Macy when she can no longer care for the girl herself,” Zach surmised.
“And you to be her Big Brother,” Kylie pointed out. “Perhaps she’s trying to give Macy her real family or as much of it as she can.”
Zach closed his eyes, refusing to think why she might have singled out him and Brooke from all the other Claytons. It might be simply that she had access to and liked them. He certainly wouldn’t have entrusted a child to Vincent or his sister Marsha, not to mention Pauley and Charley, and Cade was too young. Zach thought of Jack McCord, Cade’s half-brother. Could Macy be Cade’s half-sister? Zach identified some similarities between the two, but then he shook his head.
He couldn’t solve this mystery with the information that he had, and what difference did it make anyway? He’d committed himself to Macy, and even if she didn’t turn out to be family, he’d live up to that commitment.
“I’ve been thinking about that picnic you mentioned,” he said to Kylie.
She smiled. “Yeah?”
Looking down at her, he smiled. “I don’t suppose you have any time off this week, do you?”
Her own smile grew. “I might.”
“I think I’m due some time off myself,” Zach told her.
“How does Thursday sound?”
“I’ll check with the sheriff and Darlene and let you know.”
Kylie rubbed her hands together. “I wonder what we should have to eat.”
Zach chuckled. “I’ll leave that up to you.”
“Okay, but you have to pick the spot.”
“Deal.”
“Any place in mind?”
He smiled and said mysteriously, “Maybe.”
He did have a place in mind, actually, but he wanted to surprise her with it, see what she thought about it. Besides, he wanted to do some scouting around, be sure that his memory hadn’t played him false. It had been a long time since he’d been out that way.
She laughed. “In that case, you can just wait and see what you get for your picnic lunch. We are talking lunch, aren’t we?”
“I imagine so.”
“Hmm,” Kylie said, narrowing her eyes, “I may have to talk to Arabella and Erin.”
“Oh, yes,” he encouraged heartily. “Do that.”
Kylie laughed again. “I have to talk to them for Jasmine anyway.”
Zach felt his smile fade, but he snuggled Kylie to his side and let it all just…go. He let go of a lot while sitting there over the next hour or so on that porch step with Kylie. He let go of his resentment toward his late father, and while he was at it, he let go of his resentment toward his grandfather, too. He even released his stubborn hold on the last vestiges of his grief for all those whose deaths had touch
ed him so deeply: Lucy, his mom, his dad, his grandpa, even his grandmother, long ago. And Dave. For the first time, the possibility of seeing his friend and family members in Heaven seemed real to Zach, and he allowed himself to take comfort in that.
Looking up at the sky again, he felt as if he saw everything with fresh eyes, as if the world—his world—had begun anew.
Chapter Fourteen
The land sloped gently from a partially bald rise set against the mountain and fringed on three sides with a mixture of trees. Zach recognized juniper and spruce, white fir, maples and birch. Less conversant with the types of wildflowers, he couldn’t name them, but he certainly appreciated the vibrant, crazy-quilt beauty that blanketed the slope right to the edge of the narrow, stony brook bubbling down from the mountains. The flowers gave way to green where the brook dwindled to a trickle that disappeared into a tiny crevice folded into the gray-brown rocks, only to break from the flat, grassy ground further down in a gurgling gush at the edge of a small pond.
The spot was even more beautiful than he remembered. Easy access along a gentle ridge and sufficient soil made the bald knob of the rise a perfect site for a house, and he could see with his mind’s eye a sprawling log edifice with a big stone chimney and deep porches there. The pond would freeze in winter, providing a perfect skating surface, and he could almost hear the laughter of children as their sleds zipped down the snow-covered slope.
In a perfect world, he would choose to build a home and raise a family right here in this spot. He wondered if Kylie would like it, or if her determination to return to Denver would blind her to the beauty of this place.
Turning, he looked across the valley floor to the Jones homestead. The house itself appeared no larger than his thumbnail at this distance, which meant that this place stood well outside the environs of Clayton. He wondered how Kylie would feel about that. He felt increasingly desperate to change her mind about Denver. Working his jaw from side to side, he pondered her desire to open a bridal shop and become a full-time wedding consultant. Was it even fair of him to ask her to give that up? Could he find a way to be happy in Denver or another large city again?
“Borrowing trouble,” he told himself.
She hadn’t even brought it up in a while. Besides, no one but God knew what would happen. For one thing, with Lucas out of pocket, Samuel could inherit all, including the very ground upon which Zach now stood. For another, he had no real idea what Kylie might be thinking about the future. He knew that she felt as drawn to him as he did to her and that she cared for him, but he doubted that she could be thinking about marriage mere weeks after essentially leaving Vincent at the altar. He could hardly believe that he was thinking about it. But he was, of course, even if he had just admitted it to himself. Borrowing trouble, indeed!
Turing off the thought, he tilted his head back to gaze up at the wide, pale blue bowl of the sky. A dirty cloud poised over the tip of a mountain, casting the deep shadow that signaled rain. At that altitude, some snow remained year round. The cold, icy rain would create real danger for anyone up there. If the cloud moved in this direction before it had dumped its load, their picnic could be washed out. Zach didn’t think it would be a problem, but the sooner they got to it, the more time they’d have to enjoy themselves. He checked his watch. His half-day off had started ten minutes ago.
He climbed into the Jeep and lit out. When he arrived at his place, Darlene and Macy sat in front of the house in Darlene’s old rattletrap car. Zach pulled up in his usual spot, deeming it more reasonable to go through the house than stop in the street to greet them and then get back into the Jeep to park. He used his key to let himself in the mudroom door and rushed into the kitchen, nearly mowing down Kylie.
“Oh! Hi,” she said, laughing. “I let myself in like you told me to.”
At the same time, he said, “Oops. Macy’s out front. I need to get out there.”
“Go,” she said, even as he strode toward the front of the house. Her laughter followed him through the house and kept a smile on his face as he exited onto the porch. Swiftly crossing that, he jogged lightly down the steps and along the walk. Darlene and Macy met him halfway.
Macy hugged him warmly and could barely contain her excitement. “Oh, I love picnics! Picnics and tea parties, but picnics have better food. What are we having?”
Zach chuckled, caught up in her youthful exuberance. After all the hardship with her mother, Macy deserved to have some fun. “Kylie’s in charge of the food. Go on inside and see what she’s got for us, if you want.”
Macy ran for the house. Zach and Darlene both laughed, watching her go.
“Want to sit for a minute?” he asked Darlene, gesturing toward the porch.
She slowly ambled in that direction, saying, “I can’t tell you how much this means to Macy. Or to me.”
“Aw, it’s my pleasure,” Zach said. “She’s a sweet kid. Good fun.”
Darlene acknowledged the compliment with a smile. “Thank you. I think she’s special, of course.”
“She is special.”
Darlene bowed her head, saying, “You may know something about my health issues.”
Zach nodded. “Brooke told me.”
“I assumed she would, given our…arrangement.”
Zach recognized an opening when he saw one, and he took it. “I know you said Macy’s father couldn’t help, but don’t you think, for her sake, that we ought to know his name?” Darlene immediately began shaking her head, but Zach pressed on. “Just from a health history standpoint, it would be helpful, and she’s going to want to know one day. You know she is.”
Darlene bit her lip. Just then, Kylie and Macy clattered out of the house and onto the porch.
“Zach,” Macy called, “I’d like the lemonade, pleeease. Mama won’t let me have soft drinks.”
“And your mom’s wise not to let you have them,” Zach said, winking at Darlene. “Those things are addictive. I’m living proof of that.”
“Just want to be sure that the lemonade in the fridge isn’t Brooke’s,” Kylie said. “I mean, we all know what you drink.”
“The lemonade could be A.J.’s,” Darlene put in.
Zach grimaced. “You’re right. I’d better run next door to ask.” Brooke would be watching A.J. while Gabe worked, but she and the boy went back and forth all the time. She could well have gotten the lemonade for him. Zach looked at Kylie. “Just let me change first, okay?” He patted the holstered gun on his hip. “A.J. is already curious about this holster. I’d prefer to keep it out of his sight as much as possible.”
He could phone, but if the boy wasn’t up from his morning nap and the call woke him, Brooke would have Zach’s head on a platter. His baby sister had become a regular mama bear, and it pleased Zach to no end. Besides, he needed to change before they headed off on their picnic anyway.
“I’ll get out of your way,” Darlene said, moving back down the walkway toward her car. “Bye, honey,” she called to her daughter. “Have fun.”
“I will, Mama.” Macy produced a fashion doll and went to the corner of the porch, behind the half-wall, where she fell to her knees. The doll appeared on the top of the half-wall. As she skipped it toward a big pot of flowers in the center of the ledge, she sang, “We’re going on a picnic. We’re going on a picnic.”
Zach and Kylie shared a smile as he hurried into the house with long, rapid strides.
“Is there a blanket we can use?” she asked as he moved past her.
“Sure. The linen closet’s in the laundry room. Check there.”
Leaving Macy on the front porch to play, he pointed Kylie toward the laundry room and went into the bedroom to change. As usual, he hung his hat on the edge of the mirror, stashed his badge and gun in the dresser drawer then stripped off his uniform shirt and went to the closet to pull a soft chambray shirt from its hanger. He slung it on and began doing up the snaps, freezing as he heard a scream and then a crash coming from the front porch.
Macy! He ran ou
t of the room, sure that she had somehow knocked the big flowerpot off the half-wall. Kylie was already going through the front door.
“Macy? Are you hurt?”
Zach darted around Kylie and went to the girl, confused by what he saw. The pot lay shattered, not on the ground but on the porch. Had she somehow pulled it off the top of the half-wall?
Kylie moved forward to run her hands over Macy, starting at the top of the girl’s head and sliding over her shoulders and down her arms. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”
Trembling, Macy pointed a finger at the wall.
“H-he pushed it!”
“What?” Kylie looked to the smashed flowerpot.
Zach bent over the girl. “What did you say?”
She turned huge, frightened eyes up at him. “That man. He whispered, ‘Watch out!’ Then he pushed the flowerpot.”
Zach went cold. “What man?”
Macy shook her head and pointed around the corner of the house. “I don’t know. He went that way.”
It made no sense, but Zach wasn’t taking any chances. He ran, but no sooner had he rounded the corner than he realized that he was unarmed. Back into the house he went and straight to the bedroom dresser. When he saw that the drawer stood open and empty, he froze. Gone! His service revolver and badge were gone!
The flowerpot had been a distraction. He realized suddenly that he hadn’t even closed the drawer when he’d stowed his gun. Normally, he’d have done so before leaving the room, but this time he hadn’t.
Once again, he’d allowed himself to be disarmed! What kind of lawman did that?
He wrenched the drawer free and threw it across the room. Then he dove over the bed for the backup sidearm that he kept in the bedside table. Tucking it into the waistband of his jeans, he rushed back out onto the porch.
Striding toward the steps, he barked at Kylie, “Call Darlene. Now! When she gets here, I want the two of you to go with her.”
