Lilac Wedding in Dry Creek

by Janet Tronstad

  “The offer is still open, you know. In fact, I’ll give you the whole pie if you come.” She paused. “And your choice of whipped cream or ice cream. With cinnamon sprinkles. They’ve started using ice-cream sprinkles at the café and everyone in town uses them now.”

  Lara clapped her hands in delight, and he ducked his head slightly in a gesture that could mean yes or no. He didn’t want to disappoint the woman—or Lara—but a man like him had no place in a Sunday-school class, no matter how tempting the bribe. He could picture the bitterness rising up in him if he even tried such a thing. Besides, he’d heard about the little chairs they had in her Sunday-school room. He wouldn’t fit anymore.

  He saw the excitement in Lara’s face, though.

  “Cat and Lara might like to go,” he finally said quietly. He didn’t want to hold them back if that’s where they wanted to be. “Sunday is close enough after the wedding and we’ll still be out at the ranch so I can drive them in easy enough.”

  He realized he didn’t mind taking his daughter to the Sunday-school class he’d never attended as a boy. All the kids he knew had gone to the class and it had made him feel like an outsider to have never done so, even though Mrs. Hargrove had gone out of her way to invite him many times.

  It was quiet for a moment.

  “Your mother is going to be so proud of you,” Mrs. Hargrove finally said as she stepped back. “But she won’t thank me for keeping you here in town when she’s waiting out at the ranch. Make sure she puts her feet up, too. She sprained her ankle the other day and isn’t resting like she should.”

  Jake frowned. “I hope she’s not working too hard. She shouldn’t be doing anything where she could sprain her ankle.”

  “She was painting the upstairs bedrooms.”

  “She didn’t need to do that,” Jake said.

  “She told me she did it just in case I was right about your friends,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “So, be sure she rests.”

  “We’ll take care of her,” Jake promised the older woman as she moved to the side of the road, obviously ready to wave them goodbye as they drove through the small town.

  Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to get out of Dry Creek. There was too much emotion for him here. His past was going to reach up and swallow him whole if he wasn’t careful. He turned the key on the ignition and started driving forward.

  “Bye,” Lara said, waving wildly as they passed Mrs. Hargrove.

  Cat reached over and patted his arm lightly and that lifted his spirits.

  He was quiet for a bit.

  “Not a vending machine in the whole town,” Jake teased as they passed the café.

  “I’m sure there’s one at the gas station,” Cat said smugly. “Every gas station has a vending machine—sometimes two or three.”

  He’d forgotten about the new gas station and looked in the rearview mirror at the chrome-and-glass building. It was the only structure in Dry Creek that didn’t look a hundred years old. Whoever owned it was wise not to have any surfaces that needed painting. The severe winters around here meant most of the houses always looked as though they were in need of a new coat of paint.

  “When we’re on our way back through town, we’ll stop and see whether or not there is a vending machine,” Jake said. “I’ll buy you the candy bar of your choice if there is one.”

  “Me, too?” Lara asked from the backseat.

  “You, too, sweetheart.”

  Jake saw the slight frown that Cat gave him, but he decided to ignore it. He supposed she was upset that he’d called Lara that several times now. But a man was entitled to have a pet name for his daughter, even if the girl didn’t know he was her father and so probably didn’t understand the significance of the endearment.

  He almost braked to a stop when he realized—of course, Cat wouldn’t like it when he said things like that. It set a bad example. He pulled to the side of the road and parked before he turned around in his seat.

  “I’m sorry, Lara. I shouldn’t call you anything but your name.” He suddenly felt a clutch of worry. “And no other man should, either.”

  “Okay,” Lara said very matter-of-fact.

  “And don’t take candy from strangers, either.” It was more complicated than he knew, watching out for a child.

  Lara looked unhappy at that. “But I want my cookie. Mrs. Hargrove already said I could have one if I went to her house.”

  “Yes, well, Mrs. Hargrove is different. You can eat anything she gives you.”

  Jake was exhausted and he had the feeling he had not made his point clearly, anyway. Fortunately, Cat had been watching him bumble around and took pity on him.

  “Just tell Mommy before you take any cookies or candy from anyone,” Cat said and then hesitated. “Or tell Jake, and he can decide if you should.”

  His heart soared. He felt as if he had been promoted to parent. It was a small thing, really. Any adult should be able to assess a threat involving sweets, but it made him feel good that Cat trusted him to do something like this for Lara.

  “Thank you,” he said to Cat as he looked over at her. Her face was still paler than it ought to be. “When we get to the ranch, you’ll have to take a nap. I’m used to driving through in a pickup and tend to forget not everyone does those kinds of things.”

  Cat looked at him and laughed, her eyes lit up with mischief. “You’re forgetting, I lived on the streets for years until I was put in the home. I can sleep standing up against a door with the wind blowing around me. A pickup is the next best thing to a pillow-top mattress.”

  “Well, I’m going to open a bank account for you when we get back to Las Vegas. I don’t want you to ever be homeless again.” The thought made a chill go down his spine.

  “You’ve already done so much,” Cat protested.

  Jake was going to say something, but she continued, “I’m fine. Really.”

  Jake nodded. He didn’t want to argue, especially not about money. He’d find a way to set up an account for her when they got back to Vegas. In the meantime, he’d take her home to the ranch where she’d be comfortable.

  They were through the town when he spied the red barn that the community used for the Christmas pageant. He’d heard that the minister’s wife had painted a mural on the side of the building that included something in the sky that looked like a denim quilt.

  People invested their lives in this place in a way that made him feel lacking. That quilt represented a woman who had buried her husband and then turned his shirts into something. Suddenly, the single life Jake lived in Las Vegas didn’t seem as appealing as it had when he left. No one would turn his old shirts into anything but rags if he died.

  He glanced over at Cat. He had no business hoping for more.

  Cat saw the barbed-wire fence running along the dirt road, but she didn’t realize why it was there. The posts looked new and the sunlight reflected off the wire. The fields to the side were covered with dead grass, but it looked pressed down, as though a tractor had been driven over it recently. It reminded her of some vacant lots she’d seen in cities, but the ground seemed cared for at the same time.

  “I see Wade’s been at it,” Jake said, and she could hear the satisfaction in his voice. “That fence needed replacing when we were kids. I expect the next thing you know he’ll be running some cattle on this side of the coulee. From the looks of it, there was good grazing here last year. And he probably spread some fertilizer so the grass will come up even higher when spring gets here.”

  She felt proud just listening to Jake. He sounded like a rancher.

  Jake slowed down as they approached a turnoff that led into the fenced area. “Mind if I open the windows? It’s cold out, but the smell in these old fields is something else when you drive through—even when nothing is planted yet. I sometimes think th
e smell of the soil stays pent up all winter and comes alive as things thaw.”

  “Please, open all the windows you want.”

  Cat watched Jake instead of looking out the windows. His face never betrayed much, but she could see his eagerness in the way he leaned forward over the wheel and kept glancing from side to side as they moved slowly down the road leading toward some buildings. His hair was slightly mussed, and black stubble covered his face. He’d opened up the collar on his white shirt and he reached up to rub the back of his neck as a sound of pure contentment escaped his lips.

  He was a rancher, all right.

  She turned to look straight ahead. A two-story house was coming into view and a large red barn was behind it. Both buildings were worn, the paint faded on the barn and obviously chipped on the house. They had some years behind them, no question of that.

  “I always envied you this place,” she said quietly as she turned to Jake.

  “Why?” His voice sounded surprised as he glanced over at her. “You grew up in the big city. Lights. Action. I would think you would have liked that.”

  “I never had a home,” she reminded him. “Not a place like this. I could fall off the face of the earth and not one neighborhood would miss me. I know people here and there, of course, but they’re not one community.”

  She hadn’t realized until she said the words how solitary her life had been. She had always felt rootless, as though it didn’t matter where she lived. She had no relative but a grandmother. The thought that someone could belong in a place with ties that stretched back for generations was foreign to her.

  “Well, I’m sure…” Jake started and then stopped. He frowned slightly and she recognized that expression from school. She understood he didn’t want to be glib, but she could offer him no consolation. He didn’t know what it was like for her. And, truthfully, it might not bother her if she wasn’t worried about what would happen to Lara if she died. She had no family, no community of friends to leave her daughter. No place to even run an obituary where people would read about her life and know who she was.

  “We need to get you a house,” Jake said then, his voice earnest. “I’m serious. Instead of you just renting, I should buy you a place. With a big shade tree and a backyard for a puppy. And big windows—you’ve always liked the sun.”

  His gaze caught hers and she was silent as they kept looking at each other. She wished—just for a moment—that she could tell him everything in her heart. That sunshine might not be enough. Maybe he would understand what it was like to face death without knowing a place where she belonged. She’d given her heart to God, but she yearned for a community on earth that would miss her when she was gone. She might have spoken, too, but a tiny squeal came from the backseat.

  She was grateful for the reminder that her daughter was present.

  “We’ll talk about that later.” Cat tore her gaze away from Jake and turned to Lara. She hated to dampen the excitement on her child’s face, but she didn’t want her daughter to think Jake’s words were a promise. People said things when their emotions grabbed them that they didn’t remember later. Or sometimes had no way to make come true anyway.

  Lara was silent so she turned to Jake. He’d turned his attention back to the road by then.

  “A house is a big investment,” she said to him. She didn’t want to risk being disappointed, especially when it would hit her daughter the hardest. “And I’m fine with renting.”

  He nodded, but when he glanced over, his eyes were not backing down.

  “I’ve got it covered,” he said. “Maybe we should call a real-estate agent.”

  Cat was going to question him further, but she heard her daughter catch her breath in excitement.

  “Doggy,” Lara screamed from the backseat and Cat thought she was in for a temper tantrum. She should have stopped Jake earlier. Lara wouldn’t understand a broken promise. Cat turned and saw her daughter pointing a finger out the window. Then she saw the dog.

  The yellow animal was loping toward the pickup with its tail wagging in welcome. Cat was so relieved the dog was present and not just in Lara’s dreams that she sat there for a moment. The wholesome picture of this place was complete when it had a dog that looked like Lassie.

  “Is that a collie?” she finally asked.

  “Beats me,” Jake answered as he eyed the dog, too. “But I’d guess it’s a mutt. People around here don’t usually have pure-bred anything, except maybe cattle.”

  The dog started barking then and turned to run alongside the pickup.

  “Doggy,” Lara repeated from the backseat, and Cat wondered how she would convince her daughter to leave this place when it was time to go. Then she realized her daughter wasn’t the only one who would want to stay. A sweep of dirt covered the area between the house and the barn, but at the back of the area, behind an old clothesline, was a row of deep green bushes. She’d seen their shape in pictures.

  “Are those the lilac bushes?” she asked Jake softly. She couldn’t count all the times she had asked him to tell her about his mother’s flowering bushes. And there had to be two dozen here. “They’re real.”

  “Absolutely.” Jake gave her a quick smile. “Remember that soap I got you?”

  “Of course I do. It wasn’t easy hitching a ride, carrying a case of soap with me.”

  “You could have left them behind.”

  “Are you kidding? Taking baths with the scent of lilacs all around is what helped me get through my pregnancy.” She had felt like a princess using that soap.

  “I’m glad you liked it.”

  She had felt close to Jake when she breathed in the fragrance.

  Cat turned away from Jake to look at the bushes again. “The smell of the soap is nothing compared to the real thing, though.”

  As deep green as the leaves were on the bushes, the flowers would be mature when they bloomed.

  “I’m surprised those bushes are still alive,” Jake said as he stared at them. “No one lived here for ten years while my mother was away. I guess someone must have come in and watered them a little, at least. I wonder who—”

  The sound of a door banging came in the open windows of the cab.

  Cat sat up straighter in the seat. A woman had just come out of the house, her long black hair pulled back. She seemed ageless, neither young nor old. She held a hand up to shade her eyes from the sun as she stared at the pickup. She was wearing jeans and, if it wasn’t for the cane, Cat got the impression she might have jumped up and down just like the dog was doing. The woman had an expectant angle to the way she was standing, like she was leaning forward. She was clearly watching them draw closer.

  “Your mother?” Cat hadn’t realized how strong the sun was shining outside until she saw the brightness as it reflected on the metal of the woman’s cane.

  “Sure is,” Jake said, affection warming his voice as he gave his pickup more gas. “And she looks like she can hardly stand still.”

  “She’d be walking out to meet us if she could,” Cat agreed.

  Jake nodded. “She’s the type that must hate not being able to get around easily. She’s always had a mind of her own, except…” He paused for a moment and when he continued the lightness was gone from his voice. “Well, except for when she was around my father, of course.”

  By the time Jake parked the pickup, Cat could see his mother clearly. She was a thin woman and had the look of someone who had worked hard her entire life. She wore a rose-colored short-sleeved blouse, tucked into the waist of her jeans. Her jet-black hair was pulled back into a knot in the back of her head. Cat wasn’t sure, but it looked as though the woman wore a cowboy boot on one foot and a black slipper on the other. Her cheekbones were high and her skin darker than most. It was her Cherokee heritage, she supposed, that gave her the regal look.r />
  It took her a moment to realize that Jake was just sitting there, behind the wheel. He had switched the ignition off and now held the keys in his hands. Finally, he turned to her. “Ready?”

  She nodded, surprised at the rush of shyness she felt. “Is my hair okay?”

  Her purse was sitting on the floorboards and she reached down for it. She had a small brush in there. And lipstick—she wondered if she needed some lipstick.

  “You’re beautiful,” Jake said simply.

  She looked up, her purse in her hand now, and was touched by the expression in his eyes. Golden flecks warmed the black color and it struck her that he was proud of her. She let her purse drop back down to the floor. “I’m ready, then.”

  Cat opened her door seconds after Jake opened his. She slipped to the ground and stepped slightly to the side so she could open the back door of the cab. She needed to lean inside to unbuckle Lara from her car seat. Even at that, she barely had Lara down by the time Jake made it around to their side of the pickup.

  “Okay?” Jake said softly as he touched her elbow.

  She nodded, grateful that he was walking with her and Lara. She had wished many times back in the youth home where they stayed that she could see Jake’s family, but she had never imagined actually meeting them. They were important to him whether or not he was willing to admit that to himself. Cat didn’t know much about having a parent. Her mother died giving her birth and she’d never known who her father was.

  She watched the smile grow on the woman’s face as Jake brought them forward. Her eyes were as black as Jake’s and they both had the same prominent cheekbones. Cat had the impression the woman didn’t ordinarily display her emotions, but that she was almost overwhelmed by seeing Jake.

  “Oh, I’m so pleased,” the woman said when they were halfway to her. She looked at Jake. “Welcome home.”

  There was no wind and her voice carried perfectly, but Jake didn’t respond. Cat stumbled slightly on a clump of dead grass and he reached out his hand to take her arm. He probably only did it to steady her, but she appreciated it. He moved closer, walking on one side of her while Lara was on the other.