Bringing Maggie Home

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  “It’ll be all right.” How could he know she hadn’t shivered from cold but from worry? He pulled her close and touched the tip of his cold nose to her forehead. “Remember what we read this morning in Deuteronomy? We’re to be strong and courageous because the Lord goes before us. There’s nothing on the other side of that farmhouse door that can hurt you.”

  He was wrong, of course. There were memories inside the house that could pummel her emotionally and leave her soul battered and bruised. But she would be brave for Albert and for the little one growing inside her. She smiled and blinked back hot tears. “I’m ready. Let’s go in.”

  Present Day

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  “Are we ready to trust and move forward, powered by God’s hand of strength?”

  Hazel nodded with the others around her, her vision cloudy. She sniffed hard and whisked her fingers beneath her eyes. Meghan shot her a concerned frown, but Hazel offered a reassuring smile. Her granddaughter’s expression relaxed and they both faced the leader again.

  She recorded each of the prayer requests in a little spiral notebook she always carried in her purse. Her handwriting had gotten shaky in the past year, and she hoped she’d be able to read her notes later. But if she couldn’t, God would know what was scribbled on the pad, and she would trust Him to make sense of it. Just as He’d had to make sense of some of her jumbled thoughts of late.

  People broke into small groups to pray together, and Hazel crooked her finger at Meghan. Meghan leaned close and Hazel whispered, “Let’s go to the car. I’m weary, and I want to drive home while I’m still awake enough to be alert.”

  Meghan nodded, and the two of them slipped out to the parking lot. Hazel had chosen a spot near the double doors to the smaller sanctuary used for group meetings, and with the sun creeping toward the horizon, a thick shadow embraced her vehicle. What would Albert think of her late-nineties Buick? He’d never let their vehicles go beyond fifty thousand miles before trading them for new, sportier models. Given the high number on the odometer, he would probably have traded off the Buick years ago. For some reason, the thought made her sad.

  She unlocked the doors with the remote and then started around to the passenger side to help Meghan.

  The stubborn girl shook her head. “I can do it.”

  She’d said as much to Albert only one time, on their very first date. She could still hear his firm voice. “You’re a lady, Hazel Blackwell, and I am a gentleman. Let’s conduct ourselves that way, huh?” Truck driver by trade and gentleman by design—that was her Albert.

  She took hold of the door handle and gave a pull. “I know you’re able, but it gives me pleasure to help you. So don’t argue with me.”

  Meghan grinned and shook her head. “Now I know where Mom and I get our bullheadedness. It comes naturally.”

  Hazel laughed. She took Meghan’s crutches and put them in the back seat, then moved around to the driver’s side. As she started the car, she chuckled again. “ ‘Bullheadedness,’ as you put it, is passed to you through the Blackwells. My father had a stubborn streak more than a mile wide, and I was told he inherited it from his father. Your grandfather DeFord, on the other hand, was determined but also very logical and levelheaded. I would never use the term bullheaded to describe him.” She pulled out of the parking lot and into the flow of traffic.

  Meghan sighed. “Mom doesn’t talk much about her dad. I think, in part, because I don’t have one and she’s afraid it’ll make me wish for one even more. And probably in part because it bothers her to think about him being gone. Was she pretty much a daddy’s girl?”

  The longing in Meghan’s tone stung Hazel. A daddy was so important. Meghan—and Margaret Diane—had been robbed. A lump filled her throat, and she swallowed before answering. “Albert adored Margaret Diane, and the feeling was mutual. I quit my job at the library when I found out I was expecting and stayed home all through her growing up. I think, in a way, my being there all the time strengthened the special bond she had with her father. His job took him away from home for days at a time, so when he returned, it was a grand reunion.”

  The evening traffic was thicker, more impatient, but Hazel set her cruise for the established speed limit when she reached the highway and chose to ignore the drivers who honked at her as they whizzed by.

  Meghan shifted slightly to better face Hazel. “Why didn’t you ever have another baby? Is it because you got started kind of late?”

  Hazel couldn’t resist a chuckle. “Thirty-two was late, I suppose, when you consider how many women in our church already had school-age children by the time they reached their midthirties. No, it was a personal decision to only have one child.”

  Regret stabbed her heart. She couldn’t admit to her precious granddaughter that fear kept her from adding to their family. If she had two or more children, how could she keep watch over all of them? Only one sometimes proved challenging. Especially during Margaret Diane’s rebellious teenage years.

  She hit her blinker and eased onto the exit ramp. “When Albert died in the accident, I decided it was best I’d only had one child. It would have been much harder for me to go on, emotionally, if I’d needed to care for several children.”

  “I suppose that’s true.” Meghan sat quietly for a few seconds, then touched Hazel’s elbow. “Thanks for telling me a little bit about your family. I like knowing about those who’ve gone before. Kind of helps me understand who I am today, you know? Especially since…” She bit the corner of her lip. “Grandma, did Mom ever tell you who got her pregnant?”

  Oh, that awful day. Would she ever forget her daughter’s bitter yet broken face, the tears, the sorrow? And the adamant refusal to name names no matter how many times Hazel asked. She hadn’t even put a name on the birth certificate, despite the nurse’s turned-up nose and pursed lips. Maybe it was best Margaret Diane hadn’t told. Hazel would likely have made use of her pistol and ended up in a jail cell. “No, honey, she never did. I guess it hurt her too much to talk about it.”

  Meghan gave a slow nod, her brow puckering. “You don’t think it’s because she…didn’t know?”

  Hazel had never considered such a thing. The idea made her squirm inside. She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles ached. “Your mother was a rebel in many ways, Meghan, but I refuse to believe she was promiscuous. I raised her in the church. She knew right from wrong. And she told me at the time that she loved the boy and believed he intended to marry her.”

  “So she knows who he is, then.”

  Hazel nodded. She released the steering wheel long enough to give Meghan’s knee a quick pat. “I don’t blame you one bit for being curious. I’d be curious, too, if I were you. But you can’t push a rope. If your mother doesn’t want to talk about him, she won’t.” Another idea struck. “Maybe, when you’re back in Arkansas again, you and Sean can do some investigating and uncover his name. If you really want to know.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Meghan leaned into the corner of her seat and sighed. “I’m kind of thirsty. Could we stop at a convenience store?”

  “Con…convenience store?”

  “Yes, please. I can get a big cup of Dr Pepper from the fountain machine. I like being able to add squirts of syrup to flavor up my drinks.”

  What on earth was Meghan referring to? A cold sweat formed on Hazel’s frame. Her hands began to tremble. “I…”

  “If you’d rather not stop, it’s okay. I know you said you were tired. I’ll drink some water or juice at the house instead.”

  Hazel wanted to grant her granddaughter’s simple request. Especially since she’d been useless when answering the important question. But she couldn’t make sense of where she wanted to find something to drink. “Maybe you and your mother can go out and get a soft drink…later.”

  Yes, that was a good compromise. It would give the two of them some time alone. Time for Meghan to talk to her mother about her parentage. Time for Hazel to recover her senses.

  “That’s f
ine, Grandma. Head home.”

  “Head home…” A wave of longing washed over Hazel, so intense it brought the desire to wail. She turned into her cul-de-sac, pulled into the driveway, and put the car in park with the engine still running. She turned to Meghan and blinked back tears.

  “I want to do what you said. I want to…head home.”

  Meghan frowned. “What?”

  “Margaret Diane asked if I wanted to go back to Arkansas. You told me to head home. That’s what I want to do. I want to go to Cumpton. Let’s go. You, Margaret Diane, and me. I’ll take you to the farm where I grew up. We can visit the store where I worked after school and on Saturdays all through high school. I’ll even try to find the blackberry bramble where I last saw my little sister.” With each mention of a specific place, her desire to return grew stronger. She grabbed Meghan’s hand. “Let’s all go to Benton County, Meghan. Take me home.”

  Meghan chewed the bottom of her lip, her brows puckering. “Do you mean drive to Arkansas? Or fly?”

  “Whichever is easiest for you with your cast.”

  “Flying’s easiest for me, but Mom has her car here, and her dogs…” Meghan grimaced. “I’m not sure how this will all work, Grandma.”

  The tears Hazel had tried to hold back escaped. A sob wrenched from her throat. “Please, let’s find a way. I…I want to go home.”

  Twenty-Five

  Kendrickson, Nevada

  Diane

  Diane set her hairbrush aside and examined Meghan’s reflection in the square dresser mirror. “She really said that? She wants to go to Cumpton?”

  Meghan sat on the edge of the bed with her fingers gripping the rumpled sheets. “Yes. And she was all teary eyed when she said it. The way she was talking—so sad and almost desperate—kinda shook me up. I don’t know if it’s smart to let her travel that far, but if there’s any way we can work it, I think we should try.”

  Diane turned and leaned against the dresser. She folded her arms over her chest. “Didn’t your partner say he’d be going to Benton County to investigate?”

  “If he needs to, yes.”

  “It might be good for her to be there when he goes. To answer questions and so forth. Maybe being in her old stomping grounds will help her remember some other things that could help him solve the mystery.” Not that Diane believed they’d ever figure out what happened to those kids. She wouldn’t deny it was a sad situation, but how would they find anything of worth after all these years?

  “Even if Sean doesn’t end up going to Cumpton, I think we should take her.” Meghan set her jaw in a stubborn jut. “If it means that much to her to show us where she grew up, we should go.”

  Diane faced the mirror again and returned to brushing her hair. The dark-brown tresses, still thick and threaded with fewer than a dozen strands of silver, crackled under the boar-hair bristles. Thank goodness Meghan had inherited the Blackwell dark hair. If she resembled the man who’d callously tossed her aside, Diane wouldn’t have been able to look at her day after day.

  “Have you ever been to Cumpton?”

  Diane glanced at her daughter in the mirror. A faraway look had entered her eyes, and she surmised the imaginative pictures filling her mind. “Yes. My parents and I went back for a couple of Christmases and my grandmother’s funeral, but I don’t remember it. I was too young.”

  “You don’t remember anything?”

  Diane slapped the brush onto the dresser and strode to the bed. “Not a thing.” She slipped between the sheets and reached for the bedside lamp’s switch.

  “Aren’t you curious at all?”

  She aimed a sour look at Meghan. “Are you going to sit there all night, or are you going to sleep?”

  Meghan sighed and flopped backward.

  Diane turned the switch and rolled onto her side, facing her daughter. The soft glow from the light burning in the living room sneaked through the bedroom’s open doorway and allowed a glimpse of Meghan’s frowning profile. Clearly neither of them would be going to sleep anytime soon. Diane sighed. “What are you plotting?”

  Meghan pointed her elbows at the ceiling and slid her linked hands behind her head. “Trying to work it out. To go to Arkansas, I mean.” She peeked at Diane from the corners of her eyes. “Do you think we could make it happen?”

  Diane shook her head. “Isn’t that rather counterproductive, considering you came all the way out here for your recuperation?”

  “I guess.” Meghan puffed her cheeks and blew. “But it means so much to Grandma. She really wants us to see her childhood home. I’d be game. How about you?”

  “Oh, Meghan…”

  Meghan lowered her arms and shifted to her side. “It would be pretty expensive for us all to fly and then rent a car at the other end. If we took your Jeep, it’d be too crowded with all of us plus the dogs and our luggage. But if we rented an SUV, one of the bigger ones, we could fit in that pretty well, I think.”

  Clearly she’d been planning her strategy. “You want the three of us plus my dogs to drive from Nevada to Arkansas in a rented SUV.”

  “Or maybe an RV instead—then we wouldn’t even need to stop at hotels.” Meghan pressed her folded hands to the underside of her chin and pleaded with her eyes. “Why not? We’ll call it a girls-only road trip.”

  What other kind could they have, given their single statuses?

  “We could scope out touristy things along the way. I’ve always wanted to see the Grand Canyon.”

  Diane and her parents had gone to Grand Canyon National Park the summer before Daddy died.

  “And I’ve never been to New Mexico. I bet that’d be a cool place to visit, too.”

  The Carlsbad Caverns were in New Mexico. Mother and Daddy promised to take her there for her eighth-grade graduation. But Daddy died, and she’d forgotten about it. Until now.

  “We could travel through the Oklahoma Panhandle across the state to Benton County. I figure if we give it a week, we can stop frequently to let the dogs run and to visit any sites that appeal to us.”

  Diane shook her head, half amused, half irritated. “How are you so familiar with the geography between Nevada and Arkansas?”

  Meghan grinned. “I mapped it on my phone. Just exploring, you know.” She reached out and bopped Diane’s shoulder. “Come on, Mom. Think of all the memories we’d carry away. When else will we get the chance to do something so fun and…and spontaneous, all of us together?” Her expression pleaded. “I want to do this. The way real families do.”

  Defensiveness descended like a stone on Diane’s chest. “Has our family been that bad?”

  Meghan sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, remorse glowed in her brown irises. “It’s not been bad, Mom. Not even close to bad—really. But we’ve never done anything together. All of us. Together.”

  “But a long road trip, Meghan…” Could she survive being cooped up with her mother in a vehicle for a week? Two if they drove both ways. Here at the house, she could escape to the guest room when something her mother said or did aggravated her. There’d be no separation at all in an SUV or RV on the highway. “It’d cost a lot, too.”

  “Insurance is covering my expenses while I’m off work, so I don’t have to worry about my bills. I’ve got some money stashed away in savings, and I can also cash in on my vacation pay. I have more than two weeks accumulated, so that would cover a lot. I bet Grandma would offer to pay for the whole trip, but I’d rather each of us contribute.”

  Diane would take out a loan before she let her mother fund her vacation. She almost laughed at the emphatic thought. When Diane was in college, she’d railed at her mother for being forced to get a part-time job and contribute toward her own education expenses. How things had changed. “I could cash one of my smaller CDs.”

  Meghan’s face lit. “Then you’re in? You want to do it?”

  Diane wouldn’t go so far as to say she wanted to go, but she was willing to accompany them. “Will you have time to finish your birth
day scrapbook if we take a long trip?”

  She flipped her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’ll get it done with no problem at all, and if we decide on the RV, there’ll be room to work on it while we’re traveling. Photos from the trip will make a great end to the scrapbook.” She lunged forward and captured Diane in an awkward hug that felt more like being tackled. “Thanks, Mom!”

  Diane wriggled out from beneath her daughter’s weight. “Before you thank me, remember you’ve got to clear all this with your grandmother.”

  “Oh, she’ll be game.” Meghan settled on her own pillow again, still grinning.

  “And it would probably be best for her to get clearance from her doctor before we stick her in a camper and transport her across five states.”

  Meghan immediately sobered. “Do you think there’s something more wrong with Grandma than getting older?”

  A snide comment about there having always been something wrong with her mother formed on her tongue, but she held it inside. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Like Alzheimer’s or dementia or something. I know it’s been a while since I visited her, but we talk on the phone a lot, and this forgetfulness and getting weepy so quick doesn’t seem like her.”

  No, Mother had never been one to let emotions run amok. And forget something? Never. She hadn’t been PTA president for six years running without good reason. “It’s hard to say, but a doctor will know. So before we decide this trip is a go, we need to insist she get a physical. Now”—Diane arched one brow—“can we get some sleep, please?”

  Meghan giggled. “All right. Good night, Mom.” She punched her pillow a couple of times, burrowed into it, and closed her eyes.

  For long minutes, Diane lay in the quiet room watching sleep overtake her daughter. Something she’d never done in all the years Meghan was under her roof. Because she’d been so determined not to be like her own mother. Even while gazing at Meghan, she could picture her mother’s intent gaze from her spot at the end of Diane’s bed.