by Cleo Kelly
12
Baya had been to church long ago, during one of his tenures in foster care. It was then he’d accepted Christ and thinking on that, he wondered if that had more to do with seeking approval of his foster parents rather than feeling God’s grace. With that thought, Baya gave a soft “hmph” and pondered his belief in the Almighty. He did believe. But how had he actually come to have faith in his Lord?
The muted scent of hymnals and freshly ironed shirts mingled with the low murmur of voices. A memory niggled along the back of his brain. Two adults with him in the middle. He glanced down at Daniel next to him and wrapped his arms more securely Hope, who had climbed into his lap. His gaze settled on Bonnie as she listened attentively to the pastor.
This was family. His parents’ images popped into his mind, faded with time, loving hands holding his, telling him the story of Jesus. In a moment of clarity, he realized his initial belief came from them. He suddenly felt close to his parents as he peered at Faith reading in her Bible.
The congregation stood to sing a hymn, and he adjusted accordingly, letting Hope rest her feet on the back of the pew. He vaguely remembered the song, too.
They shook hands with the pastor on their way out and he mentioned that he’d come see them, once they were settled.
Pastor clutched Bonnie’s hand. “I knew your grandparents, they were members here. I am so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” Bonnie murmured.
The pastor then shook Baya’s hand, high-fived Daniel, and then Faith. Hope held out her hand, too. With a laugh, the pastor squeezed her little palm between his own right after Baya set her down on the church steps.
Within minutes, Bonnie was hustling Faith and Hope in front of her as she smiled and answered comments from members of the congregation.
Daniel was racing a young boy toward a gnarled scrub oak.
Before Baya could call him back, the kid had shed his shoes and was climbing the knobby trunk. Baya walked over and plucked Bonnie’s…his squirming son off the lowest branch.
Beside him, a thicker man was holding the shoulder of the other culprit.
They exchanged nods at the boys’ antics.
Something warmed in Baya’s heart…affection for the boy…and the man’s easy acceptance of his fatherhood. The wonder of that feeling buoyed his very soul.
Bonnie came over in a rush, her cheeks pink, either from embarrassment or exertion.
Faith, dragging Hope with her, interrupted, chatting inanely about someone named Mary she had met.
As Bonnie hushed her daughter, a laughing woman greeted her.
“So you have one, too.” She held out a hand, the other firmly holding a toddler on her hip. “I’m Carol. The wild one is Dave.”
Daniel chose that moment to escape.
Baya sent another nod to the silent man, before turning to run ramrod on the boy’s exuberance. He almost tripped over Hope. Startled he stopped, caught by the ugly faces she was making at the boy Carol held. He snatched her up, casting a sideways look to see if the woman had noticed Hope’s rudeness.
She had, and she was grinning. “Stop making faces at each other, both of you,” she said easily, tapping her little boy’s cheek.
Bonnie seemed to be holding in a laugh, but said nothing about the woman correcting their children.
Was this a common occurrence amongst kids and moms? He had a lot to learn.
“Come on, Faith,” Baya said, snatching Daniel’s arm as he ran past the group again. “Let’s get these two in the car.”
~*~
Bonnie leaned into the headrest of the station wagon, her heart overflowing from the warmth of the parishioners, and the fact that the pastor knew her grandparents, a connection she’d not expected.
The children chattered about kids they’d met, showing a tender curiosity about making friends and talking about when school would start.
Baya said nothing, but loosened the tie and unbuttoned his collar as he started the car.
And part of the gentle warmth around her heart was stirrings of love. She was beginning to trust Baya. Several times during the sermon, he would stir to adjust Hope, who stayed in his lap, and Bonnie would be reminded of his presence, his completing of the family. After church, he’d snagged her boy with a tolerant, amused expression and without her prompting…just like any father would have done.
Hope unbuckled her seat belt and scrambled over the front seat to nestle against her mother.
“Next time, get in front with us,” Bonnie admonished. “You aren’t to get out of your carseat when the car is moving.” Bonnie pulled the center seatbelt out of the crevice and fastened the child in securely.
“OK, Mommy.” Hope’s thumb went into her mouth.
They crested the hill into their valley and Baya slowed the car.
Remembering the conversation of the morning, her smile deepened. “A beautiful piece of earth,” she breathed.
Baya returned her smile. “Our earth.” He released the brake and they bounced down the road missing the potholes.
There was a car in front of the house.
“Daddy!” Daniel shouted.
The car had barely stopped when Faith and Daniel shoved open the door and ran to the man rising from the porch swing.
Bonnie turned a panicked gaze to Baya. “What is he doing here? He’ll try to take them away. I know he will.”
A warm, tan hand covered her trembling one. “I won’t let him.”
“What do we do?” she asked, worried.
“We’ll bed him down in the bunkhouse and make sure he’s welcomed. For now, keep him occupied outside. Have the children take him to see the barn and all their favorite places.”
She murmured an agreement and opened the car door.
Baya nodded to the man on the porch as he unlocked the front door.
Once Bonnie began leading Ed away, Baya ran to the apartment.
He gathered up his clothes and boots and dumped them onto the bed with any miscellaneous items he came across in his hurried search. He shoved all of his shaving supplies off the bathroom sink into the army green duffel bag. Making a final check under the bed, he rose and pulled sheets and mattress pad around the gatherings on the bed and pulled the four corners into his arms.
With a quick look to see that the children were dragging their father toward the barn, he ran up the back stairs and dumped everything in Bonnie’s bedroom. Quickly, he set out his personal stuff in the bathroom, and hung up most of the clothes, shoving the bedding and the rest of it in a corner of the walk-in closet. Downstairs, he ran through the house to make certain there was no other evidence of less-than-perfect wedded bliss. On the stairs, he almost tripped over Bonnie.
“I’m getting bedding for the bunkhouse.” Her voice was a whisper. “I told him he would be really comfortable there.”
Baya chuckled. “He will, especially if we let the children bunk out there with him.” He sobered. “I dismantled our sleeping arrangement. He doesn’t need any ammunition against you.”
Her gaze was shadowed with doubts. “I told him not to come without calling.”
“Has he ever listened to you before?”
“No.” A smile began chasing away the shadows. “He was shocked to see you. I think he thought you were a figment of my imagination.”
“Does he have a problem with the reality?” Baya asked playfully.
Her hand reached up to brush his mustache. “I might be mistaken—what I thought was shock might have been envy. He never could grow facial hair worth a flip, and he tried often.” Smiling, she slipped around him. “I have to get the bedding.”
~*~
Baya walked slowly down the stairs, pausing by a window to check out the man walking back from the barn.
Did the man hope to surprise them doing something wrong, or was he here because he actually cared about the kids?
They were walking onto the porch when Bonnie came down stairs with the bedding.
“I saw the bund
le of joy you left me,” she mentioned with a twinkle in her eye, and he grinned at her.
“The best I could do on such short notice. I’ll take this out and make ol’ Ed comfortable.” He pulled the bedding out of her arms. “That way you get that mess upstairs arranged to your liking and out of sight. Sorry our plans were shot to—er, down again. You’re not going to have that week to adjust. Guess you’ll have to take me how I am.”
Bonnie smiled back at him. “I like how you are.” Turning to run up the stairs, she hadn’t gone more than a few steps before calling back down, “You may as well invite Ed to Sunday dinner.” A laugh escaped her. “He’ll have to eat my cooking—what payback!”
~*~
With the dinner on the table and the children washing their hands, tenseness invaded the area.
Bonnie placed the last vegetable bowl near the head of the table and checked everything again.
Ed was the first one in the room, and he looked around in a mocking manner before settling his silver-gray eyes on her. “This place is a wreck—looks just like something you’d like. You’re just pouring money down a hole trying to fix up this dump.”
The door in the adjoining room shoved open as Baya carried in the pitcher of ice tea.
Ed stiffened and moved away.
Baya. movied behind her, and rubbed his shoulder against hers as he set the pitcher down beside the roast.
She started and then gave a weak smile. “Ed thinks this house is a dump.”
Baya rolled a stern gaze toward the man. “Good thing he is snug and warm in the bunkhouse, then, huh?”
“I couldn’t agree more,” she replied
The children rushed in to settle into their places.
Ed sat in the chair next to Faith and Baya. If he was uncomfortable, he gave no sign of it as he reached for the potatoes and handed them to the Baya.
Baya took them gingerly. “We pray first,” he said.
The children obediently bowed their heads and Daniel rattled off grace. When they lifted their heads, the food began its round of the table. Daniel regaled them with a rendition of the past months’ events. He was stressing the importance of having a horse of his own when his father interrupted him.
“Do we have to listen to your mouth while we eat?” Ed snapped.
Baya paused with a forkful of roast halfway to his mouth to glare at the man. He may get tired of the boy’s chatter, but his looks said no one—absolutely no one—was going to talk to Daniel that way. Ed ignored the piercing glare.
“His pony is actually pretty interesting, Dad,” Faith said with a laugh.
Ed turned his irritation toward her. “I don’t need you to tell me what I want to hear, either.”
Bonnie recognized the anger growing in Baya and hurried to smooth the situation. “I understand you’re probably tired, Ed. But the children just want you to know what they’ve been doing since they came here.”
“If you hadn’t carried them half a world away, I would still know what they were doing. You had no right to take them out of Florida, although I never should have expected anything else from you.” The petulant anger grew nasty. “I wouldn’t have had to come all this distance to get them.”
“Get them?”
“I want them to come with me. I’m supposed to have them during the summer.”
“You’re supposed to have them in June. It’s August, and I’m getting them ready for school. You didn’t want them in June. I can’t help it you missed your scheduled time.”
“I am taking these children with me. You can’t hide them out in the backwoods and try to make them think I don’t want them.”
Baya’s chair scraped back, and he stared at her ex-husband with disgust. “You and my wife may talk in the living room after dinner. You will not disrupt this meal. If you cannot talk about something less threatening around the children then you’re unwelcome at my table. And the children can speak as much as they want. I want to know about their day. “
“Your table?” The gray eyes openly mocked him before glancing at his ex-wife. “I thought this was your grandmother’s place, Bonnie.”
“They’re partners,” Daniel countered and met his father’s narrowed gaze head on. “They were talking about it the other day when I jumped on the bed. Baya knows what to do and Mom helps.”
Baya grinned down at the boy and rumpled his hair with a callused hand. “You tell him, boy.” He pulled forward again. “Pass that roast this way, little darlin’,” he drawled to Faith.
She giggled and lifted the platter, bypassing her father.
“Bonnie has to be the prettiest and best cook I ever met.”
“She can drive a tractor, too,” Faith’s soft voice joked gravely.
Daniel laughed and even Hope giggled.
Baya exaggerated his cowboy drawl with a slightly malicious intent. “How long ya’ stayin’, ol’ timer? This right fine boy wants to take you fishin’.”
“I have to get back.” Ed spoke cautiously as if he was not sure he was being made fun of. “I have a job I can’t leave for longer than this takes. I’m going to fly the children home with me for a couple of weeks. It’s such a little time you let me have with them.”
“You couldn’t take time off work to be with them in June.” Bonnie’s voice was sharper than she intended.
Ed’s self-righteousness cut to the bone. “I have to make a living. Some people can’t sit around the house doing nothing.”
Baya cleared his throat, and silence settled over the table.
“You said I couldn’t visit you before the wedding because you had to work.” Faith had quit eating and was staring at her father.
“I didn’t know then you were being moved so far away from me, Peaches.”
The girl glared at her mother.
Bonnie just rolled her eyes at her ex-husband and continued eating.
Hope was trying to cut her meat and it kept sliding around her plate.
Ed gestured at Hope. “Can’t you at least help Hope?”
“She doesn’t want help.” Bonnie’s voice remained calm with noticeable effort. “She wants to learn to do things for herself.”
“A child her age shouldn’t have a knife.” Ed continued to glare at Bonnie. “You always were the most irresponsible mother.”
The little girl slammed her fork and knife down. Leaning her head against the table, she began crying.
Bonnie rose with a jerk that almost knocked her chair over and picked up Hope, holding her protectively against her shoulder. “You need to be nicer to her,” she hissed over her shoulder as she walked out.
~*~
Daniel kept staring at his father. “You don’t want to go fishing?”
Ed heaved a sigh. “When we get to Florida, Ike and I will take you out on the boat.”
“But Ike doesn’t like me.”
“Daniel, just leave it alone, will you?” Ed bellowed. “I had to come all the way out here to see you and all I get are questions and tears.”
Baya stood. “Don’t you ever yell at these children again. Don’t ever think you have an invitation to this ranch again. And never make my dinner into the revolting meal you did today, or they’ll have to carry you onto that plane headed for Florida. Now please leave my home.” He slammed the door shut in the man’s surprised face and turned to see Daniel and Faith with their arms around each other.
Tears ran down their faces as they looked at him with accusing eyes.
“What?”
“You hurt my Daddy.” Faith rushed past him and out the door.
“You’re mean.” Daniel followed her as they ran to the bunkhouse after their father.
Baya stared at their retreating backs, a frown gathering in his forehead.
“They’re too young to understand how Ed manipulates them.” Bonnie leaned wearily against the stairwell. “I really did think we could hide away from him, and the children would forget having such a horror for a father. I thought giving them a real man as an example would
give them something good to bond with. Every word out of that—that worm’s mouth is an excuse about how someone tricked or misused him. Now the children will believe him all that much more because you threw him out. They’ll see you as tearing them out of their ‘loving’ father’s arms.”
“That can’t be right.” At her tired nod, he slowly shook his head. “Bonnie, I am so sorry. I had no idea a father could be so…”
“Wimpy?” she supplied.
He continued shaking his head. “Mean. He’s mean. I know the kids are a real pain, sometimes. Daniel likes to talk, and Faith is so distrustful I’m almost afraid to breathe around her for fear she’ll think I am the big bad wolf. Now I have been. I just couldn’t take another minute of it—it’s a miracle none of you have ulcers. That was his normal mealtime behavior isn’t it, always nit-picking and condemning?”
She nodded.
“How can anyone use children so callously? When I think of how fun our meal times are normally, I can’t get over a man actually wasting the time to pick and fight.” He smiled. “The kids tried to keep it light. That bit about the tractor floored him for a moment, didn’t it? When Daniel said we were partners? Wow!”
She smiled but kept staring at the bunkhouse. “I wish I knew what to do, Baya. He refused to take them in June. I don’t have to let them go, you know.” She looked into his eyes. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“Do you have a lawyer?” She nodded and he took a deep breath. “Call him right now, and find out what your options are. If you decide they’re not to go, then they won’t go. I won’t allow it.” He walked up the stairs and wrapped his arms around her.
She nestled her head against his shoulder. “You scare me, Baya.”
He held still, full of surprise and questions, yet he didn’t voice them. He just waited for her to continue.
