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Summer In Iron Springs

Page 7

by Margie Broschinsky


  “Well, of course you’re getting paid,” Anna said. “You aren’t going to work for free!”

  Phoebe put a hand to her mouth. “Are you serious? I mean, this is really for me?”

  “It sure is.” Anna nodded. “You earned every penny and more. Norm can’t say enough about what a hard worker you are.”

  “Thank you,” Phoebe said and she meant it, sincerely. The work in the orchard was hard and hearing Anna repeat the words Norm had said to her many times was almost as good as getting her first ever paycheck.

  “I should be thanking you,” Anna said with a smile. “You’re the one who’s doing all the work. I was thinking we could go into town and open you a bank account?”

  Phoebe looked down at her dirty arms and sweaty clothes. “I need to get cleaned up first.”

  “How about we leave at four thirty?” Anna said, checking her watch. “It’s only a five minute drive to the bank.”

  Phoebe nodded and headed inside. She rushed to her room, took a quick shower and went to her closet. She pulled a light yellow cotton sundress over her head and slipped her feet into her white leather sandals. After blowing her hair dry and applying mascara and lip gloss, she checked herself in the mirror. She admired her bronzed, newly toned skin and the naturally sun kissed highlights that had recently emerged in her hair. She gave her reflection a smile. It was nice to feel happy and she allowed herself to enjoy it. She retrieved a small jewelry box from her closet and chose a necklace and bracelet to wear. She hadn’t worn jewelry since arriving in Iron Springs; wearing it now, she felt more like herself. She put on a pair of silver hoop earrings, examined her reflection one last time and hurried downstairs.

  Anna was bent over in front of the stove when Phoebe walked in the kitchen. “I’m ready whenever you are,” Phoebe said.

  “Perfect timing,” Anna said as she slid two large meatloaf pans into the oven. She closed the oven door, set the timer and wiped her hands on the front of her apron. “Let me just wash my hands and we’ll go.” She turned to face Phoebe and, when she did, her eyes grew wide. “Phoebe, you look beautiful!” She examined Phoebe from head to toe. “I mean, you really look just . . . so pretty.”

  “Thank you,” Phoebe said, enjoying at the compliment.

  ***

  “It sure is a beautiful day today,” Anna said as they drove into town.

  Phoebe enjoyed feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin. It was very different from the wetness of Seattle. She had always loved the rain but getting the chance to see the sun on a regular basis was one of the many things about Iron Springs that were definitely growing on her.

  “It’s a lot different than Seattle.”

  Anna gave Phoebe a sideways glance. “Are you homesick?”

  “I was at first.” Phoebe gazed out the window at the beautiful scenery. “But I’m not anymore.”

  “I’m glad to hear that dear. I’ve been asking your dad to let you visit for years. He would never allow it until . . .”

  Phoebe looked at Anna and then at the road ahead. “Until my arrest. It’s okay to say it Anna.”

  “I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. I hope you know I don’t care what the reason. I’m just glad you’re here.”

  “Thanks. And I do know that,” Phoebe turned to look at her aunt. “Do you know why he wouldn’t let me visit before?”

  Anna thought about the question for a minute. “I think so. I’m pretty sure he has never dealt with the grief of losing Bessie. And Iron Springs is her home. I’m sure that’s why he has never come back here and I imagine that’s why he never allowed you to.”

  Phoebe thought about how much she had learned about Bessie in the short time she’d been in Iron Springs. She cherished the knowledge and wouldn’t trade it for anything but being there—feeling her mother’s presence everywhere—it was painful at times. As she thought about this, her heart softened toward her dad and she made the decision to call him soon. “You’re probably right,” she said.

  Anna nodded thoughtfully. “When Ed died I thought about pulling up stakes and moving somewhere else. I could never do it, of course. Iron Springs is in my blood. But for a while, everything I looked at, everything I touched . . .” her voice cracked and she paused before going on. “Well, pretty much everything reminded me of him. It still does but I’ve found ways to deal with it.”

  A sting swelled in Phoebe’s heart as she listened to Anna talk about her late husband. She hadn’t thought about how painful losing Ed must have been for Anna. “How do you deal with it?”

  Anna smiled. “Well, at first, it was difficult. I cried a lot. But, over time, I found that I could think of him and not feel sad. When I was ready to talk about my feelings, I joined a grief group.” She glanced at Phoebe and there were tears in her eyes. “That’s where I met Alyssa. She was engaged to be married when her fiancée was hit by a drunk driver. He was killed instantly. It helped to have a friend to talk to—someone who could sympathize with what I was going through. Then, when your mom died, it was like starting the whole process over again.” A tear tumbled down her cheek.

  Phoebe swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked hard to keep her tears at bay. “So, the grief group helped?”

  Anna nodded. “It saved me. I tried to talk your dad into finding a group in Seattle but he didn’t want to talk about it. He even stopped answering my calls. I’ve worried a great deal about him over the years.”

  In that moment, her father’s confusing life suddenly made sense to her. She understood why he spent so much time at work and why he ran for hours every day. He was filling his time and his thoughts with anything he could to keep himself from having to think of Bessie. The realization caused Phoebe’s heart to ache. He missed his wife. That was the motivation for all that he did, and for all that he didn’t do.

  ***

  After opening a checking account, Phoebe asked the teller to order her a debit card. Then, she withdrew some cash and immediately started making plans for the next day. She would get up early and head into town. She’d spend her whole Saturday shopping. She could hardly wait.

  When she and Anna arrived back at the ranch, Billy and the other men were sitting on the front porch. It was still a while until dinner so Phoebe headed past the men and through the front door. “Can I talk to you for a second?” Billy asked, following her into the foyer.

  Phoebe turned to face him. “Sure, what’s up?”

  Billy took a look around at the men who were clearly waiting to hear what he had to say to Phoebe. “Would you mind if we went in here?” He motioned toward the living room.

  Phoebe followed him to the living room. She took a seat on the couch and he settled into a leather recliner and faced her.

  “You look really pretty today, Phoebe.”

  “Thanks,” Phoebe said, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I thought it would be nice to wear something besides work clothes for a change.”

  “Well, you look good in those too,” Billy said, giving her a flirty smile before spoke again. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out to dinner with me tonight. I mean, if you don’t have other plans.”

  Phoebe let out a giggle. “Well, I was planning to stay here and shoot the breeze with Norm but I guess I can put that off for another day.”

  “I’m sure he’ll understand,” Billy said and they both laughed. “I’m just gonna go change and then I’ll come pick you up, okay?”

  “Sounds good,” Phoebe said. She smiled at Billy and forced herself to stay calm despite that her heart was pounding in her chest.

  ***

  They went to a steak house in town and after dinner Billy suggested they take a walk. It was getting chilly out so they walked to his truck and he grabbed their jackets. He held Phoebe’s so she could slip it on and then he pulled his hoodie over his head. “Tell me if you get too cold, okay?” Billy said, taking her hand and leading her along the stone walkway.

  Phoebe liked the way it felt to have her hand
in Billy’s—it was like she’d found the lost piece of a puzzle and had snapped it into place. As they walked along the walkway, she welcomed Billy’s familiar fragrance into her senses. He was wearing the same cologne he always wore—it was a simple, gentle scent that was just so . . . Billy.

  Billy led her along the walkway until they came to a dirt trail. “This trail runs the entire perimeter of town,” he said, pointing to the ground. “It used to be a railroad track and after those were removed, the town made it into a walking path.”

  They walked on the path in silence and Phoebe found that she didn’t mind them not talking. She was enjoying just being with Billy. It was just the opposite of spending time with Jaxon. He never stopped talking and everything he said was about himself. He didn’t try to get to know her or spend time walking silently beside her. He was too focused on himself to think about anyone else. Billy was different than any boy she’d ever known. He was calm and deliberate. He was sweet and gentlemanly. He was interested in her life and took the time to learn about her. When she was with him, she knew he was focused on her and she liked that . . . a lot.

  “Let’s go up here,” Billy said, leading her off the trail. “There’s something I want to show you.”

  “What is it?” Phoebe asked, scanning the area up ahead.

  “You’ll see.”

  Billy led her into the foothills and up the mountain until they arrived at a clearing. It was full of tall, beautiful aspen trees—there had to have been thousands of them. And the ground was covered with foliage that looked like a green carpet had been put down in the forest. “I love it here,” Billy said. “It’s so beautiful and peaceful.”

  Phoebe took a long look around. “It really is.” She admired the snow-white trunks of the soaring aspens as they glimmered in the moonlight. Amongst the aspens, there were groupings of pine trees and one, lone willow tree. Billy led her to the willow tree and they stood beneath it.

  “I’d love to do a painting here.”

  “You should do it, Feebs,” Billy said, brushing a strand of her hair off her shoulder. “You have too much talent to let it go to waste.”

  Phoebe looked Billy in the eyes. She was thankful for his support—the words he’d just said were the very words she’d waited her whole life to hear from her father. And she was still waiting.

  “Thanks, Billy,” she said, studying his eyes as her heart thundered wildly. She was sure Billy could feel the throbbing in her chest and she didn’t care. She was dizzy and excited and weak all at once. Despite the soft breeze, she wasn’t cold at all. She was exactly where she wanted to be.

  Billy ran the back of his thumb along her cheek as he gazed into her eyes. He lowered his head until she could feel his breath on her face and gently pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her once, then again, and again. Her knees went weak and her breathing slowed. In that moment, nothing in the world mattered. She was aware only of Billy and of the smell of his cologne and the feel of his lips pressing against hers. When the kiss was over, she leaned into him and he held her until her dizziness subsided. Then they sat beside each other on the soft ground beneath the willow tree. Billy pulled her close to him and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  Six

  “It works easier if you do this,” Stephen said. He used the larger clippers to cut away the excess branches from the tree where Phoebe was working. “Them are too small.” He pointed to the shears Phoebe was holding.

  “Thank you.” Phoebe watched Stephen as he demonstrated how to use the larger clippers. Norm had asked the two of them to remove all the fruit from the small trees and discard it so they could grow strong. Phoebe had no idea how many baby trees there were and she didn’t want to ask. She was sure there were thousands, probably tens of thousands.

  As he worked, Stephen glanced at Phoebe and studied her face. “You look like your mom,” he said in his soft, child-like tone. “She was real pretty.”

  “Thank you,” Phoebe said while she watched Stephen as he became distracted by a tiny caterpillar that was inching its way across the branch Phoebe was trying to remove.

  “Hold on a second,” Stephen said. He leaned in until his face was only inches away from the caterpillar. “It’ll be okay.” He spoke to the insect as he urged it to inch its way onto his finger. After it did, he climbed the rungs of the ladder. When he reached the top rung, he held his finger out and let the caterpillar climb onto the tree’s top branch. “You’ll be safer there.” He smiled and waved goodbye to the tiny insect before heading back down the ladder.

  “Your mom liked caterpillars,” Stephen said when he joined Phoebe again.

  “She did?”

  “Uh-huh.” Stephen looked back toward the branch and Phoebe knew he was checking to make sure the caterpillar was okay. “She liked butterflies too. She said they were miracles from God.” He stopped talking for a moment and glanced around the orchard. “Did you know that caterpillars turn into butterflies?” His eyes lit up as he talked. “It’s magic. Your mom taught me that.”

  Phoebe turned away from Stephen and blinked hard at the tears that filled her eyes. Her heart swelled when she thought about the kindness Bessie had shown to Stephen. “I didn’t know that,” she said. “But, now that you mentioned it, I guess it really is magical.”

  The rest of Phoebe’s work day was spent thinking about Bessie. She thought about the beauty Bessie saw in the world and the beauty she gave back to the world. Phoebe wanted to be a part of that. She wanted to become like the woman Stephen knew.

  ***

  After work, Phoebe took a shower, put on some clean clothes and removed the painting of the old country church from her wall before heading to the balcony. Bandit, who had become her constant companion and was never far behind, followed her to the balcony. She set the painting on the table and knelt down before him and ran her hand along his back. His tired eyes glanced up at her and she thought he looked worn out. “Are you tired, Bandit?” she asked, giving him a scratch on the top of his head. She put her arms around his neck and nestled up close to him. “You just rest, okay?”

  After sitting in a balcony chair, she propped her feet up and examined the painting. For some reason, she was drawn especially to this painting. It was a tiny wooden building. The weathered boards were covered with white paint that was chipped and faded from age. It had a smaller than average, bright red door and, on the very tip of the pointed entry way was a tall metal spire. Behind, and to the right of the church, a rectangular sign hung from two wooden pillars and stood guard over the entrance to a rural cemetery. After studying it for a while, she turned it over. Handwritten on the back, it said: 26 Old Creek Way - August 23, 1990. Phoebe stared at the writing. My mother wrote that. She felt an aching in her heart that yearned to know more about the painting.

  She jotted the words down on a piece of paper, replaced the painting in its spot and hurried downstairs to Anna’s office. She logged onto the internet and searched for directions to 26 Old Creek Way. She crossed her fingers as she waited for the search to return its results. Within seconds, she had printed directions from Anna’s house to the address of the church and she and Bandit were on their way.

  It was a perfect summer day; fluffy white clouds floated slowly across the light blue sky. The sun was shining fiercely and yet, there was a light breeze in the air that cooled the air and put Phoebe in an exceptional mood. She walked for over an hour before coming to a fork in the road. To the right was Dodger Lane and to the left, Old Creek Way. Phoebe turned and hurried down the road. A short walk brought her to the front steps of the old church. As she studied the old building, she imagined Bessie standing in the same spot. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she knelt to touch the pebbles at her feet. Bandit moved close to her and lowered his head to sniff her hand. “My mother was here,” she said to Bandit. “She had to have loved this place a lot to want to paint it.”

  She walked to the front door and tried turning the knob but it was locked. Cupping her hands on the sid
es of her eyes, she peeked in a window. A pulpit stood in the front of the small room. As Phoebe glanced at the wooden pews that lined either side of the room, she imagined her mother sitting there, listening to a sermon. Was she religious like Anna? Phoebe felt bad for not knowing. There was so much she didn’t know. She walked around to the back of the church and read the sign that led to the small cemetery;

  “Iron Springs Cemetery”

  And beneath that, in smaller letters:

  “Honoring our Past, Present and Future.”

  Phoebe considered the words for a moment as she passed through the arched entry way that stood guard over the tiny cemetery. An elderly man was kneeling before a grave, clearing grass and leaves from a headstone. Phoebe watched the man and wondered whose grave he was visiting. She admired the tender way he touched the headstone, the softness in his eyes as he arranged flowers in a glass vase and the loving way he spoke—saying words Phoebe couldn’t hear. She took a seat on a wooden bench beneath a large tree that would shade her from the sun. Bandit sat on the ground beside the bench and Phoebe rested her hand on his back. After a time, the man became aware of her presence and he walked over and sat down beside her.

  “It’s a hot one today,” he said, running the back of his arm along his forehead.

  “Yeah, it sure is,” Phoebe responded, letting out a sigh for effect.

  “That’s my wife, Helen.” He motioned his arm toward the white marble headstone where he’d been kneeling. “She died ten years ago. I come here every week, bring her flowers and tidy up.” The man looked at Phoebe and smiled. His eyes were happy and full of life and his voice was kind and cheerful. Although she did not know him, Phoebe was relieved that he was able to be happy, despite his loss.

  “What are you doing out here young lady?” he asked, swatting at a fly that was buzzing around his head. “You got family buried here?”

 

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