Wanted--The Perfect Mom

by T. R. McClure

  Mac tightened his hand around the turkey call. Hawkeye had created the drawing from memory. He held the bag out to Skinny. “Maybe I shouldn’t have accepted this. He might want it when he’s feeling better.”

  Skinny waved his hand away. “The turkey call was a gift, son. Life gives you a gift, you accept it graciously and move on. Kind of like Hawkeye comin’ home all those years ago when I was sick. If it weren’t for me, he’d probably still be in California with a couple of kids.” He shrugged. “Water under the bridge.” With a finger to his cap, Skinny walked back to the house.

  * * *

  “I HAVE A proposition for you.” Holly rested her feet on the coffee table and hugged her mug to her chest. Her heart thumped against her pale yellow polo shirt.

  “I’m not sure I can take any more excitement.” Mac rubbed a hand over his face. “Last night they caught the couple who robbed the bank in Shadow Falls and the guys stealing copper up on the mountain. This has been a crazy week.”

  Holly had finished her inventory by the time Mac stopped by. After dropping Riley off at Sunday school, he had developed the habit of checking on Holly, alone at the store.

  She’d been thinking about this for a week, ever since Mac had dealt with the irate storekeepers so patiently. “It’s about to get crazier.”

  Mac narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “Did you ever go out with Miss Norton?”

  Mac shrugged. “Why do you ask?”

  Holly sat up and dropped her feet to the floor with a bang. “Mac, your mother leaves for South America in a month and you have nothing arranged for your daughter. Unless you’re taking a leave of absence?”

  Mac frowned. “We’re a two-man force. How can I take a leave of absence?”

  “My point exactly.” She sipped her coffee and said, “So did you ask her out?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? She’s perfect. Good with kids. I’m sure she can braid hair. What are you waiting for?”

  Mac shrugged. “I talked to her when I took Riley to sign up for first grade. She started dating Tim at the hardware store.”

  Holly lowered her voice. “So you don’t want to marry her?”

  Mac rolled his eyes. “What? No. I barely know her.”

  “And Edna has too many cats.” Holly smiled.

  “Eliza.” He returned her smile.

  “Wendy wants to leave the area and Ms. King travels extensively.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  Holly set her cup in the middle of the table and rested her palms on her knees. “That leaves me.”

  Mac didn’t answer.

  “You have smoke coming from your ears.”

  “I’m confused.” Mac’s voice was soft. “What exactly are you saying?”

  Holly rubbed her hands on her jeans and looked at the floor. “I’ve decided to close the business. Carolyn starts teaching soon and Louise, well, this might force her to go back to nursing, where she belongs. It’s a win-win. I’ll borrow from the bank to pay off Dad. I can braid Twister’s tail so I should be able to figure out how to braid a little girl’s hair although Riley said she prefers ponytails and—”

  The rest of her rambling sentence was lost as Mac pulled her out of her chair and up against his rock-hard chest, the same chest she’d run into months ago. “Holly, are you saying...?”

  “My mom said women aren’t born maternal so I thought I’d get some books on parenting from the library. Whatever it takes.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and came up on her tiptoes. She was mostly happy, a little sad maybe, but mostly happy. “We’d have to marry, though. I don’t think it would be proper for me to live—”

  Mac pressed his lips against hers and Holly melted into his arms. Their third kiss. Maybe Mac didn’t love her, maybe he would never get over the loss of his wife, but she had enough love for the both of them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  THE KISS WAS SWEET, passionate. Holly expected nothing less when Mac was involved. He pulled away and looked at her steadily. “Are you sure?”

  Unable to speak, Holly nodded. She had said the words. No going back.

  What had she just done? She fingered a gold cord hanging from Mac’s shirt pocket. “What’s this?”

  Mac pulled out a blue felt bag and held it in the palm of his hand. “Hawkeye gave me a gift.”

  Holly upended the bag and slid a smooth wooden box into her hands. She studied the intricate carving. “Hawkeye did this?”

  “That’s another crazy thing. Those two have an internet business—the source of all the money for remodeling the homestead.”

  “Get out of town. An internet business?” Her breath caught in her throat as she studied the intricate carving. “It’s gorgeous. Is this his dog?”

  Mac nodded. “Black-and-tan coonhound. He just died. Poor guy. Hawkeye looked like he lost his best friend.”

  Placing the box in the middle of the table, Holly eased out of Mac’s arms and sat, her legs suddenly weak as the magnitude of what she had done threatened to overwhelm her. She pushed the realization to the back of her mind. The offer had been made and accepted. Case closed. Time to move on. “My grandfather had a black-and-tan years ago. He loved that dog. Said he was the best dog he ever had.”

  “Skinny used the same words to describe Buddy.”

  “So their dog was a black-and-tan coonhound?”

  Mac’s brows bunched together. “I just said that. You’re not getting headaches are you? Maybe we should go back to the doctor.”

  “No, silly, I’m thinking.” Holly tapped her finger against her lips.

  Mac grimaced. “Well, give me some warning next time. I was getting worried.”

  Holly laughed. “I was thinking about the Colliers’ Lab, Daisy. All her pups looked like her except one. Did you see the one I was holding the night we had fireworks?”

  “All the pups looked alike to me. They’re black Labs.”

  “The one I was holding had a brown nose and brown paws. You don’t think...”

  Mac frowned. “From the Smith farm to town is pretty far...”

  “Yeah, but when you’re in love...” Holly tilted her head and batted her eyes.

  They sat in silence, Holly calculating the distance—as the crow flies—the coonhound would’ve traveled. “My grandfather used to say his dog could cover a lot of miles when he was on a scent.” She leaned forward, fixing Mac with an intense look. “I’ll bet the Smiths’ dog is the father of Daisy’s puppies.” When Mac didn’t answer, she continued. “If Fran still has the male with the brown paws, I’ll bet they’d love to have him.”

  Mac shook his head. “I don’t know, Holly, a puppy...”

  “...might be what the old guy needs to get back on his feet. Come on, Mac, let’s see if Fran still has the dog. We’ll pick up Riley, too.” Holly reached for Mac’s cup and carried the mugs over to the counter. Behind her Mac was muttering something about always getting her own way. She glanced over her shoulder ready to argue the point and saw Mac waiting at the door. Well, as long as she got her own way...

  “Holly, are you sure?” Mac’s blue eyes looked troubled.

  Holly slipped her arms around his waist. “Mac, it’s the perfect solution.” She kissed him, then opened the door.

  Across the street, Ethan Johnson and Adam McClain had just finished tilling the vacant lot—with the use of a rototiller on loan from the hardware store. Now, shirts discarded, they raked rocks and weeds out of the loosened soil.

  “The lot will look beautiful in the spring.” Holly leaned an elbow on Mac’s shoulder as they watched the two boys work in the hot September sun.

  “Restitution, probation and community service. They’re lucky that’s all they got.” Mac grimaced. “The army str
aightened me out.”

  She ran a finger along the curve of his clean-shaven jaw. “Good thing you went.”

  “Thank your dad.”

  Holly dropped her hand to her side. “Did you just say the army was my dad’s idea?”

  Mac nodded. “I got in a bit of trouble. Your dad caught me.”

  “That explains the big dog thing.” When Mac gave her a quizzical look, she quickly continued. “What did you do?”

  “I smashed the taillights on Mrs. Hershberger’s new car.”

  Holly gasped. “Why would you do that? She’s a sweetheart.”

  “She caught me smoking cigarettes on school property and marched me into the principal’s office. I got three weeks detention.”

  “You were angry. You lashed out. So where’s my dad come in?”

  “He was making a night deposit at the bank and saw me. The deal was I work at the farm for a month and pay Mrs. Hershberger for the damages, then go straight to boot camp.”

  “You kissed me the day before you left.” All those years of keeping her distance and the day before he leaves town he surprises her with a first kiss.

  He nodded. “The military taught me to control my emotions.”

  Holly wanted to say too well, but she bit her tongue.

  “Mayor Gold did have a pretty good idea.” Mac eased out from under Holly’s elbow and slipped his arm around her waist. “Have they done their time with you yet?”

  Holly chuckled. “Not yet. Next Wednesday they’re coming here for boot camp, Hoffman-style. Who needs the army?”

  “Adam might if he doesn’t get the wrestling scholarship,” Matt McClain said as he came out of the computer shop. He grimaced. “Man, it’s hot out here. Wonder if those young men have learned anything yet?”

  Across the street Adam caught the three watching them and waved.

  “I’m thinking yes,” Holly replied as she waved back. “I understand you’re taking over the store for Pierre. Have they left yet?”

  “Jessie has. Pierre is closing up the house and working with me this week. He’s driving a moving van down next weekend.” He shook his head. “I was shocked when he asked me to take over the store, what with everything that went on.”

  “Give people a chance and they’ll do the right thing.”

  Holly slipped her arm through Mac’s. “You’re such an optimist, even if you do occasionally suspect your friends of criminal activity.”

  Mac covered her hand with his. “People will do the right thing, but sometimes they do the wrong thing, too.” He tilted his head toward the boys across the street. “That’s where reparations come in—sometimes people need a little reminder.”

  “I understand your brother is building raised beds for growing vegetables,” Matt said.

  Holly nodded. “Tom Johnson is buying two benches in honor of local veterans. The stone quarry is donating gravel for the paths and the hardware store is donating grass seed. The Garden Club is planting flower bulbs along the fence next to the library. The whole thing just snowballed.”

  “Would you believe Sue had those two boys and their girlfriends icing cakes the other day?” Matt laughed. “They don’t have time to look for excitement anymore.” He stuck out his hand to Holly. “We have you and Mac to thank for it.”

  Holly shook his hand but said, “No you don’t, Matt. Everybody agreed this was the best route to take.”

  Mac glanced at his watch. “We better get moving if we want to catch Riley in between Sunday school and church.”

  Thirty minutes later Mac, Holly and Riley sat on Fran Collier’s back porch. The brown-and-black pup whimpered as it stood on Riley’s lap and licked her face, causing Riley to giggle.

  “Careful, Riley, Molly might get jealous.” Mac smoothed a hand over his daughter’s head. “I’m surprised this one’s still here, Fran.”

  Fran sat in a rocker, Daisy by her side as the pup they were keeping chased a grasshopper across the porch. “Nobody is interested in a black Lab that doesn’t look like a black Lab. I’d be thrilled if the Smiths want him.”

  “We’ll give it a shot, but I can’t guarantee it. This was Holly’s idea.”

  “And a fine idea it is, Chief McAndrews,” Holly said. “We won’t be bringing this little fella back, Fran. He’ll have a good home.”

  Mac stood and stretched. “Let’s go find out. Riley, can you carry him?”

  Riley pushed up from the porch and grabbed the squirming puppy around the middle. “I don’t think so, Daddy. He’s too wiggly.”

  Mac took the pup from his daughter and carried him, cradled in one arm, to his truck. Once Riley was belted into the backseat, he set the dog in her lap. “Hold tight, Riley.”

  After backing out of the Colliers’ driveway, Mac headed for the Smith farm. The only sound in the truck was Riley’s high-pitched singing and the pup’s yips. They crossed the suspension bridge.

  “What are you singing, Riley? The song sounds familiar.” Holly looked over the seat and smiled at the sight of the little girl singing to the pup, nose to nose, as the puppy tried unsuccessfully to lick her chin.

  “I’m singing a song I learned at Brownies.” She giggled as a pink tongue swiped her cheek. “It’s about making new friends but keeping old friends.”

  “I remember that song,” Holly said.

  “Molly and this puppy are like new friends. Is Holly an old friend or a new friend, Daddy?”

  Holly caught Mac’s eye as he said, “She’s my old friend, Riley.” He pulled onto the gravel drive of the Smith farm. “She’s a very good old friend.”

  “Then you’re supposed to keep her, Daddy. The song says keep your old friends.”

  “Okay, Riley, I’ll keep her.” Mac smiled as the gravel crunched beneath his tires.

  Before Holly could respond, they spotted Skinny sitting on his porch steps. He rose as they parked and ambled down the steep stairs. “Got company with ya today, Chief?” He nodded toward Holly.

  “I do, Skinny.” Mac opened the back door of his truck and lifted Riley down, pup still grasped tightly in her hands. “We brought you something.”

  Riley looked up at the man in front of her and held out the puppy.

  Skinny studied the wriggling animal—his brown nose, brown paws and long ears—and rubbed his chin with his fingers. “Well, I’ll be...”

  “He’s not purebred, Skinny. Holly’s neighbors have a black Lab who had a midnight visitor. We’re not sure but we thought maybe Buddy...”

  “...had one last hurrah?” Skinny chuckled. He bent down and said, “Is this your puppy, little girl?”

  Riley shook her head. “I have his sister and Daddy says I can only have one dog at a time.” She thrust the puppy into Skinny’s arms. “This is your dog, if you want him.”

  Skinny ran a long, silky black ear through his fingers. “Well, I’ll be...” he repeated softly. Riley leaned against his shoulder, stroking the dog’s back. “I don’t need a dog.”

  Holly sighed. She had been so sure the Smiths would be the perfect owners for the mixed-breed dog. “But—”

  “But my brother does. You three come into the house with me.” He stood and, carrying the dog, led them into the house. In the hallway, he stopped and gave the dog back to Riley. “You go on in and see Hawkeye. I’ll fetch some lemonade. Too hot for coffee, Ms. Hoffman.” With a broad wink, he disappeared down the hall.

  Holly let Mac and Riley precede her into the living room, where Hawkeye lay on the couch, his legs covered with the brown-and-orange afghan. With a knife, he worked on a turkey call in his hands. “Chief, who’s this?”

  Mac waved Holly into a chair facing the couch. “You know Holly Hoffman, from The Wildflower.”

  Holly nodded, and wondered at the faint smile he threw in her direction. “I do. Nice to
see you, Miss Hoffman.”

  “And this is my daughter, Riley.”

  Riley walked around the coffee table and leaned on the couch, spilling the puppy into the old man’s lap. “He’s for you, if you want him.”

  Hawkeye handed the knife and box to Mac, and pushed himself higher on the couch. He dropped his feet to the floor and patted the couch. “He’s for me, you say?” He ran a long, silky ear through his fingers and studied the dog. “Where’d he come from?”

  Holly smiled as the puppy sniffed the man’s hands. “My neighbor has a female black Lab who got herself in the family way. We think maybe your dog paid a visit. I know it’s far but...”

  Hawkeye nodded as he lifted a brown paw with his finger. “Doesn’t surprise me. Hounds often travel for miles. It’s almost impossible to pull them away when they’re on a mission.” He chuckled. “Well, I’ll be...”

  Riley leaned against his shoulder. “So will you keep him? Will you?” She took a breath. “What’s his name? Do you have a name yet?”

  With a gentle smile, Mac tugged the girl’s ponytail. “Riley, enough with the questions.”

  Skinny appeared with a silver tray carrying an etched crystal pitcher full of lemonade, ice and sliced lemons. One mismatched glass had faded pictures of cartoon characters. He filled the glass half-full and set it in front of Riley. “This glass belonged to my little sister. She lives in Pittsburgh, used to teach music at Carnegie Mellon.” He nodded toward Hawkeye. “So what do you think, brother?”

  Hawkeye stroked the pup with one finger from the top of his domed head to his rump as he lay curled upon the man’s lap. “I think Buddy the Second has found his way home.”

  After lemonade and raisin-filled cookies, Mac, Holly and Riley waved goodbye to the two men standing on the front porch. The pup nestled in Hawkeye’s arms.

  Mac slammed the truck door and studied the two farmers still waving from the porch. “I think the dog got Hawkeye off the couch, Holly.” He waved and then started down the long gravel lane, turning left at the end. “Good idea.”

  “I think so, too,” Holly said. “Seeing Hawkeye like that made me wonder...is it possible to let yourself fade away?”