by Mia Ross
“I heard you were back,” he said with a chuckle. “What took you so long to call?”
“It’s been a busy morning. I’m hoping you can get my electricity turned on sometime soon.”
“How does this afternoon sound?”
“Perfect. Thanks, Alan.”
“No problem. Welcome home.”
Caty couldn’t have asked for a better start to her day. Taking it as confirmation that she’d made the right decision, she looked up with a grateful smile. “Thank You for bringing me home.”
After a few more minutes of lounging, she finished her water and went back inside. After partly unrolling the colorful Oriental rug, she discovered it now resembled very expensive Swiss cheese. There was nothing she could do about that, so she went into the back hallway and opened the case on the grandfather clock. It took a while to clean out the dust and get the movement freed up, but she patiently kept at it.
Once the pendulum was swinging freely, the steady tick-tock resonated through the empty hallway. With that memory restored, Caty felt more as though she was home to stay.
“Hello?”
A now-familiar voice called out from the front door, and she rounded the corner to find Matt standing in her living room with a small cooler in his hand. Looking around, he lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “How’s it goin’?”
“Fine. Frank’s getting rid of my furry guests, and the electric’s going on this afternoon. How about you?”
“You want the ‘fine’ or the truth?”
She laughed. “The truth. I can take it.”
“I’m hunting down our missing farmhands. Four of them didn’t show, so I went by the apartment they were sharing. It’s empty. No note, nothing.”
As if things weren’t bad enough for the Sawyers, Caty thought. Trying to sound positive, she said, “If they’re that unreliable, you’re better off without them.”
“I guess.”
“Does anybody know where they went?”
“Nope. If they’re lucky, I won’t find out.”
He was still holding the cooler, and she asked, “Is that for me?”
“Since your fridge isn’t working yet, I figured you could use some lunch.”
Recognizing the hole in his account, she grinned. “I thought you were hunting for missing farmhands.”
For a second, he seemed to be concocting a story. Fortunately, he didn’t insult her with a lie. “Guess it was both.”
Deciding not to make a thing of it, she took the cooler from him. “Well, thank you. I wasn’t looking forward to PowerBars and warm water.”
“You’re welcome. Speaking of water, you know it’s gonna be a mess when you turn it on, right?”
“Yeah,” she replied with a sigh. “I’ll run it for a while until it clears.”
“Could take a couple days.” When he noticed the rug, he groaned. “Whoa. That’s not good.”
“It’s my own fault,” she scolded herself. “I’m a country girl. I should have had the sense to mouseproof everything before I left. Of course, if I hadn’t stayed at that cute B and B whenever I visited, I’d have known what was going on here. I guess I just assumed it would always stay the same.”
“Yeah,” Matt commented quietly, “I know what you mean.”
Misery swirled through his eyes, and Caty’s heart went out to him. If she’d known him better, she’d have given him a hug or said something profound to let him know she understood. Before she could come up with something appropriate, he withdrew and headed for the door.
“Matt?”
He turned, and she gave him her most encouraging smile. “It will get better, I promise.”
“When?”
“When you’re ready to let him go.”
Grimacing, he shook his head. “Right now, I can’t imagine that ever happening.”
With that, he strode from her house, the screen door slamming behind him.
* * *
They’d been busy while he was gone.
Marianne, who had to be the most ruthlessly organized woman on the planet, was in charge of all things administrative for the farm. That included a computer database of suppliers, customers and the Sawyers’ extensive Christmas-card list. The pile of condolence cards and emails on her desk had to be a foot high. Right beside them were two neat stacks of thank-you notes, stamped and ready to be mailed.
As soon as he walked through the door, Matt felt the anvil settle back on his shoulders. Equal parts responsibility and guilt, it was heavy even for him. “Looks like you’ve got everything under control.”
“Lisa and John helped.”
Matt scowled at her. “Meaning I haven’t.”
“Meaning nothing. It wasn’t a dig, I promise.”
Feeling foolish, he mumbled, “Sorry.”
Being in Harland always put him on edge, but it would be unbearable if he didn’t get hold of his temper.
As a start, he said, “When I called I forgot to tell you I invited Caty to come out for supper. Hope that’s okay.”
“Of course it is,” she assured him as they walked into the kitchen. “Ruthy left us enough food for a month. This morning I found six casseroles in the freezer on the porch.”
“Coffee?” he asked as he opened a cupboard for some mugs.
“Please.”
After filling them, he set the cups on the kitchen table and took the chair opposite Marianne. When his father was alive, Matt had often sat at the head of the table without a second thought. Now you couldn’t pay him to sit there.
“I know you’re not supposed to tell a lady she looks tired.”
“But I do,” she acknowledged with a faint smile. “I know.”
He wasn’t sure what to say next. Then Caty’s comforting words popped into his head. “It’ll get better, Mare. How’s everybody else doing?”
“All right, I think. Ruthy told Lisa to take some time off, but she wants to keep busy so she went in today. She said everybody’s been sweet, offering to help. John, well…” She shrugged. “I’m still waiting for it to really hit him.”
“How ’bout the kids?”
“Kyle’s heartbroken, but he’s trying to be brave. When I try to talk to Emily about it, she just goes back to her dolls.”
Her chin wavered, and Matt put a hand on her shoulder. He suspected that, in her own way, Emily was trying to be brave like her brother. As they all were.
“You’re doing a great job. Just hang in there.”
She gave him a watery smile. “Thanks.”
They sipped their coffee, and suddenly Matt realized things hadn’t gone as far downhill as they usually did when the two of them were together for more than two minutes.
“Are we actually having a pleasant conversation?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” she demanded. “We have lots of pleasant conversations.”
“They start out that way, then we end up yelling at each other.”
“We do not.”
“And it’s a race to see who can get outta the room first,” he finished evenly.
“That’s not true.” After another sip of coffee, though, she giggled the way she used to when she was a little girl. “Yes, it is. I guess we’re a lot alike.”
“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing,” he teased.
“Sometimes it is.”
When her smile faded, he braced himself for part two of the scolding he’d gotten before their morning prayer. Even though she was frowning at him, he was surprised to see honest sympathy in her eyes. “I wish you could just try—”
“Well, I can’t,” he said as gently as he could. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Life is so much
harder without faith, Matt.”
“You’ve got plenty of faith,” he reminded her. “Did it make your husband taking off any easier for you?”
“Yes, it did. I trusted God to take care of us, and He did.”
“You took care of you, and the kids. God had nothing to do with it.”
Smiling, Marianne shook her head. “He had everything to do with it. He gave me the strength I needed to leave Chicago and come back here. He blessed me with a family that would take me in and love my children. Without Him, we’d have been completely lost.”
Meaning she thought he was lost, Matt realized. Out of respect for their new truce, he opted not to debate religion with her. He was grateful when John came through the back door and flopped into a chair, making a small cloud of dust. Without being asked, Marianne got up and filled a glass with ice and water.
“Thanks,” he croaked. Within ten seconds the glass was empty and refilled.
“Man, that tastes good.”
“I wish you would have taken today off,” she chided him, running a motherly hand through his sweaty hair. “You look exhausted.”
“No help for it. We’ve got just as much work and four fewer pairs of hands.”
John was by nature a helpless optimist. Hearing him sound so discouraged made Matt wonder how he’d ever get through the rest of the harvest. Hoping to lighten the mood, Matt asked, “You leave anything for me to do?”
“A few tons of hay, most of the corn. The hay can wait, but from the looks of it we’ve only got a few days on the corn.”
“That old harvester up and running?”
Grimacing, John shook his head. “Engine keeps quitting on us. Dad—”
He stopped abruptly, glancing at Marianne. She patted his arm with a smile. “It’s okay, John. Go ahead.”
“Dad thought it might be electrical, but he wasn’t sure.”
“I’ll have a look, see what it needs.”
“How’re things at Caty’s?” John asked as he fished three cookies out of the jar in the middle of the table.
“The place is a mess,” Matt answered. “But she’s fixed on staying there. There’s no electricity, so I invited her out later for a shower and something to eat.”
John and Marianne traded an odd look, and Matt asked, “What?”
“Nothing,” John replied, clearly trying to keep back a smile but failing miserably. “That was nice of you.”
“She’s helping us with Dad’s estate. I figured it was the least I could do.”
John’s infernal grin widened, but before Matt could say anything, John polished off his water and stood up. “I’d best get back to it.”
After the screen door slapped shut behind him, Matt turned to his sister. “Why do y’all smile when I mention Caty?”
“We all like her,” she said.
When she artfully changed the subject to which of Ruthy’s concoctions she should thaw for dessert that night, Matt decided Marianne wasn’t going to answer him.
* * *
The cranky old harvester wouldn’t cooperate for more than thirty seconds at a time. With oil-stained fingers, Matt paged through the dog-eared maintenance manual, searching for answers. He even tried kicking the machine a few times, which only made it sputter to a stop. After spending the afternoon baling the back hayfield with John, this was the last thing he needed. Muttering to himself, he decided to call it a day. Maybe if he quit thinking about it, the solution would come to him.
On his way to the house, he noticed John sitting on the top step of his small porch. Arms draped over his legs, he was staring at the ground. He looked completely defeated and, tired as Matt was, he couldn’t just leave him there.
Changing direction, Matt walked down the well-beaten path to the carriage house, using the time to come up with something brilliant to say.
“Hey, there,” was the best he could do.
When John lifted his head, his dusty face was streaked with tears. Matt sat down beside his little brother, wishing he knew what to say.
“I should’ve seen it,” John groaned in a ragged voice. “It was too hot. I should’ve made him stop.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Even if you’d said something, he wouldn’t have quit. You know that.”
“Just a few more passes,” he lamented. “We’d have been done.”
“I know.”
After that, there wasn’t much left to say. So he listened, letting John pour out the sorrow that must have been choking him for days now.
When his tears subsided, he lifted his head and gave Matt a weak smile. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Come on up and have something to eat.”
“In a while.”
John’s gaze wandered a bit, settling on the ancient oak tree their father had loved so much. Matt had a pretty good idea what he was thinking, but no profound words came to mind. Patting his brother’s shoulder, Matt left him alone with his memories.
After a quick shower, Matt settled at the kitchen table with the newspaper. Out in the yard, Tucker started barking like a maniac, and Matt glanced out to find Caty’s MG pulling in beside his truck. She stepped out and greeted the Lab with a thorough ruffling of both ears. When he reared up and plunked his paws on her hips, she laughed and hugged him back.
The dog retreated and spun in circles while Caty fished a backpack from the passenger seat and settled it on her shoulder. Obviously thrilled with their company, Tucker trotted alongside her, tongue wagging as if he’d been waiting a month for her to come back. Apparently, the entire family had a weakness for Caty McKenzie.
Including Matt, it seemed.
Driving the tractor up and down countless rows of hay, he had kept wondering how her rehab work was going. Crazy as her plan was, he couldn’t help admiring her willingness to leave the past behind and move on. He didn’t know her that well, but any fool could see she hadn’t been happy in Charlotte. Once the shock wore off, he’d wager she’d actually be glad she’d lost her job. He’d had more than a few jobs like that, so he understood.
Gazing out across the seemingly endless fields waiting to be harvested, he had tensed up reflexively. Willing his muscles to relax, he had reminded himself he wasn’t staying. John and the girls just needed him to bridge the gap until they adjusted. Three months, and he was gone.
“Knock, knock!”
Caty’s face appeared in the screen, and he got up to open the door. “You missed a spot,” he teased, rubbing a smudge of dirt off her cheek.
“There’s plenty more where that came from,” she warned, staying on the porch. “You might want to hose me off before you let me in.”
Marianne laughed. “Don’t be silly. You’re cleaner than the hounds and field hands that traipse through here every day.”
“Upstairs bathroom or down?” Caty asked.
“Down. Kyle left an experiment going in the upstairs tub. Something to do with submarines and diving bells,” Marianne added, rolling her eyes.
“Sounds interesting. I’ll have to go check it out.”
The bathroom door closed behind her, and Marianne turned to Matt with a curious look. “You like her, don’t you?”
“Sure,” he said noncommittally, tossing a scrap of cornbread to the furry beggar beside the counter. “Not as much as Tucker does, though.”
“John thinks she hangs the moon, you know.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” He left out the part about it bothering him. He still didn’t understand why, and he didn’t want his nosy sister reading anything into it. “Are they together?”
“No,” Marianne said with obvious regret. “Even back in high school, she kept telling him she wanted to stay friends. I think he finally gave up sometime last year.”
She took a casserole dish out of the oven and set it in a handled frame on the counter. The she turned to smirk at him. “You really didn’t remember her?”
Great. She and Caty must have had a good laugh over that one. “Eventually I did. In my defense, I was in high school when she moved here.”
“Not an excuse when a lady’s involved,” John said as he came through the back door and planted a kiss on Marianne’s cheek. “Something smells great.”
“Mystery casserole.” With a fond smile, she reached up to ruffle his damp hair. “You look much better than you did at lunch.”
“I feel better. Thanks again, Matt.”
“Anytime.”
Caty came out of the bathroom and hung her backpack over the basement doorknob. Her hair looped up in a damp ponytail, she was dressed in frayed denim shorts and a faded Boston College T-shirt. Somehow, she looked just as good that way as she had in her high-powered lawyer clothes.
Without asking, she opened the cupboard and started taking out dishes. “How many?”
“The kids are down at the Millers’, and Lisa should be here soon, so five. How are things at your place?”
“Cleaner, but there’s still a lot to do. My electric just came on, and Frank Hastings took care of the mice.”
Marianne did a girly shiver. “I hate those things. Scrambling around, chasing each other all over the place. They give me the willies.”
“They don’t eat much,” Caty said as she started laying out the plates. “Marianne, do you have any twin-size sheets and a pillow I could borrow? Gram wrapped my old mattress in plastic so it’s fine, but all the linens are full of holes.”
Leaning over his sister’s shoulder, John mimicked the sound of gnawing rodents. She smacked him with a wooden spoon, which only made him laugh.
“Over there,” she ordered, pointing at the table with her spoon.
“Yes’m.” Grinning like an idiot, he flung himself into the chair next to Matt’s. When he saw Matt was reading the sports section, he shoved in for a look. “How’d the Braves do?”
“Lost their shirts. They need a couple guys who can hit home runs every once in a while.”
“And a catcher who doesn’t use a walker. They better come up with something fast or they’ll miss the play-offs.”
