Small-Town Moms

by Tronstad, Janet

  “She sure hasn’t said anything to me about him, or to Maegan,” Clint said, not bothering to hide his discouragement. “Or apparently to you.”

  They were all silent for a moment then Maegan looked at the others and asked, “That’s not normal, is it? I mean, assuming she knows. Why wouldn’t she tell anyone she has a brother? Or ask questions about him? Is she mad at us or something?”

  “Oh, I don’t think she’s angry,” Mrs. Hargrove said quickly. “She might be a quiet child, but she isn’t acting out. She hasn’t tried running away—”

  “Running away? I never thought she might try to leave.” Clint felt cold shivers run down his back. He felt a strong urge to build a tall fence around his land with a locked gate. “She’s only nine years old.”

  “Yes, well, she probably wouldn’t get far,” the older woman conceded.

  “Unless someone took advantage of her and—” Maegan’s voice started to rise. But then she stopped and swallowed, keeping her eyes downcast.

  Clint reached out and put his hand on her arm. “She’s okay. She’s with us.”

  He’d put in that fence if he needed to.

  Maegan looked up at him in surprise. “Us?”

  He nodded firmly. He wanted this much understood; he wasn’t in some fog when it came to the two of them. “You’re Lilly’s aunt. You’re part of her future now, too.”

  He didn’t add that he hoped she was also part of his future. He didn’t want to give her any excuses to pick up and leave.

  Maegan knew there were certain moments in a person’s life when everything changed. This was such a moment. It was right up there with the time all those years ago when she realized the couple she’d prayed would be perfect for her family disappointed her. They were not going to do anything to keep her sisters and her together after all. God had seemed so far away back then when she yearned to keep her family close.

  But now everything was shifting. God seemed to be answering those old prayers. She might not have both of her sisters, but Olivia and she were becoming closer every day as they talked on the phone. And she had a connection with Lilly. If Clint said she could be part of the girl’s life, she knew he meant it. A flood of warm emotions went through her with that knowledge. She finally had family—sort of.

  “Thank you.” Maegan let enough silence pass to let everyone know she recognized the gift Clint was offering.

  Mrs. Hargrove nodded, her weathered face beaming as she looked at her and then at Clint. “Now, isn’t this nice? The two of you joining forces to see to your niece. It’s almost like—”

  “We’ll have to ask her about her brother,” Maegan added quickly, before the older woman could say more. She wasn’t ready for any kind of scrutiny when it came to her feelings about Clint. Being permitted to see more of her niece was enough for now. “Maybe Lilly just doesn’t talk about Wesley because she’s worried.”

  “That could be,” Clint admitted.

  “Or maybe she saw him so seldom, she wasn’t expecting to see him again,” Maegan said before she heard what sounded like a truck drive by.

  “That’ll be the school bus,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she stood and walked over to the kitchen window that faced the street. “It needs to have the engine adjusted—my nephew Conrad is supposed to fix the problem, but he’s away for a week learning how to repair some new-fangled fuel-efficient tractor. He took his new wife and they’re making it a little vacation. You know how it is—young love? He never thought he’d get married, either.”

  With the last, the older woman turned around and beamed some more as she looked toward the table. Fortunately, she kept her thoughts to herself though.

  Maegan stood up and walked over to the window so she could look out. The yellow bus had a black stripe. Square windows lined its sides and there was a bear painted on the driver’s door.

  Mrs. Hargrove must have known where Maegan was looking. “The basketball players are the Grizzlies. They use the bus to get the kids to the games. They even play a school up at Havre.”

  Maegan watched as the children stepped off the school bus. They were boisterous, jumping around and running to the café. Lilly lagged behind the others, walking slow as though she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. Even with her limp, she could go faster than she was.

  “She’s not happy.” Clint had come to stand by the window, too, and he saw what the women did. “I’ve tried everything I know and she’s just not happy.”

  “Give her time,” Mrs. Hargrove replied. She was no longer smiling and her voice was worried even though her words were sympathetic. “She hasn’t dealt with losing her mother and she was just brought hundreds of miles across the country to live with someone she had never met before. She needs time to adjust.”

  For a minute, they just listened to the sound of the children outside.

  “I’m going to paint the house at the ranch,” Clint said suddenly. “Inside and out. Bright colors, too. Maybe that will help some. Right after the days dry out enough so there’s no chance of rain.”

  “But what about the spring plowing?” Mrs. Hargrove turned and asked. “As soon as it’s dry enough, that’s what you’ll need to be doing.”

  “I’ll paint at night,” Clint said, his voice strong with determination. “Or put it off for a day or two.”

  Maegan was only partially listening. She saw Lilly enter the café, following a group of other kids.

  “I know how the girl feels.” She stepped away from the window. She knew some of the reason Lilly trailed behind was because of her feet. It was hard to keep up when she had to be so careful with the way she walked. Added to that, she probably still wondered if her life was going to change again. If she was picked up and dropped off in Montana one day what was to prevent someone from picking her up tomorrow and depositing her in Nevada or Minnesota or anywhere else they desired.

  “We need to sit at the table,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she, too, stepped back. “We don’t want her to see us watching over her like old mother hens.”

  Maegan smiled. She liked the thought of mothering Lilly. All of them sat down at the table again and listened quietly.

  “That’ll be Lilly now,” Mrs. Hargrove said and stood. They had all heard the light footsteps on the front porch.

  The older woman hurried out of the kitchen, walking through the dining room to get to the door coming into the living room from the porch. Maegan and Clint couldn’t see her but they could hear the murmur of voices as Lilly came inside the house.

  Maegan forced herself to smile as she heard Lilly nearing the entrance to the kitchen.

  The girl stopped in the doorway and looked at Clint and Maegan. “Am I in trouble?”

  “Oh, no,” Maegan gasped. But then she noticed that Lilly had her eye on Clint and she was waiting for his response. The girl was uncertain.

  “Not at all,” Clint said softly and he opened his arms to Lilly.

  The girl didn’t go to him, but the worried look left her face and she said, “Oh. Well, then, Mrs. Hargrove said I could have some cookies.”

  “That I did,” the older woman said as she, too, entered the kitchen.

  With that, Lilly started taking off her gray parka as she walked to the table. She draped the coat over the back of her chair before starting to sit down.

  “That’s my picture,” she said stiffly, pausing midway to the chair. She straightened herself and kept standing as she looked at Clint again.

  Maegan could see the hurt and confusion in Clint’s eyes. Lilly was acting like she expected him to harshly reprimand her for something. Maegan knew Clint well enough now to assume that he was never unkind to anyone, and especially not to Lilly.

  “I tried not to use much crayon,” Lilly said defensively. “I know they’re not cheap.”

  “You can have all the crayons you want,” Clint said, his voice cracking with defeat. “And paper, too—whatever you need.”

  Lilly nodded. She sat down and folded her hands.

&n
bsp; There was an awkward silence.

  “Well, land’s sake, child, have a cookie,” Mrs. Hargrove finally said as she pulled her own chair out and sat down. “You must be starving. I know they give you lunch at school, but it’s never enough.”

  “We had hot dogs today,” Lilly said, relaxing as she talked to the older woman. “And carrot sticks.”

  “Sounds good,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she poured the glass of milk and pushed the plate of cookies closer to Lilly. “Go ahead now. I know these are your favorite.”

  Lilly nodded shyly as she reached her hand out.

  Maegan and Clint didn’t say anything as their niece took bites around the edge of the sugar cookie, methodically making it smaller and smaller until there was only one round bite left. She sat that on her napkin and took a long drink of the milk.

  “I expect all kids like to have a snack when they get home from school.” Mrs. Hargrove smiled at Lilly. “I’m sure your Uncle Clint gives you a snack, too.”

  Lilly nodded. “Mostly graham crackers, sitting at the kitchen table. He gets them just for me, because I like them.”

  Maegan relaxed and addressed herself to Lilly. “I was out at your place this afternoon. I think I even had some of your graham crackers. They were very nice.”

  Lilly smiled.

  Maegan looked over at Clint and he gave her a subtle nod so she continued. “That’s when I saw the picture you drew. It’s a very nice picture and I was wondering if you could tell me about it.”

  Maegan reached out and moved the drawing closer to the girl.

  Lilly was sober. “Did you know my mother?”

  Maegan shook her head slightly. “Not really. She was very young when we got sent to different places to live. I wish I had known her later though. She must have been a good mother to have a daughter like you.”

  Lilly stiffened and looked down at the table. “She said she was a bad mother. That’s why she was looking for my father. She wanted to send me to live with him.”

  “Oh, surely—” Maegan was taken back. She hadn’t expected any of this. What kind of a woman had her sister been? “Maybe she meant she wanted you to spend some time with your father. Like visiting for a few weeks in the summer.”

  Lilly just sat there for a moment, then she took a deep breath and continued. “She told me she’d already given my brother to his father. He was just a baby, but I saw him. I used to think about my brother all the time. I bet he’s happy, being with his dad.”

  Everything stopped and no one breathed for a long minute.

  Then Lilly dropped her voice and said listlessly, “I’ll be happy, too, when I can live with my father.”

  Maegan felt all of the hope drain out of her. How could Lilly want to be with the man who had left her with his brother? Clint had hinted that his brother wasn’t ready to take care of a child and it was clear the man might never be ready. And then there was her. She knew she shouldn’t have started to count on having a relationship with Lilly, but she did. Just the thought of it had made her realize how much she wanted to be part of a family again. Even if she only visited Lilly and Clint now and then, it would be something. But how would she even find Lilly if she was going from rodeo to rodeo?

  Just then Mrs. Hargrove moved slightly.

  “Your uncle’s very nice, too,” the older woman said gently as she put her hand on Lilly’s shoulder and drew the girl closer to her.

  Lilly didn’t say anything. She just looked down.

  Maegan looked over at Clint. His face was drained. He looked as bereft as she felt. She reached out and put her hand on his arm. For a moment, he didn’t do anything. Then he slowly put one of his hands over hers. He kept his eyes on Lilly though.

  “I wish I was your dad,” he said to the girl, his voice ragged.

  Lilly still didn’t say anything. And that, Maegan thought to herself, said it all. The girl wasn’t happy. Nothing but her father would do. It was unfortunate, but she could understand. Hadn’t she felt the same way one time? She wanted what she wanted in a family and, if she couldn’t have it, she didn’t want much of anything else.

  She could almost see the same thoughts chasing through Clint’s mind. Then she saw his face harden with resolve.

  “I’ll talk to your father,” Clint finally said.

  Lilly looked up then, her face filled with hope. “You will?”

  Clint swallowed. “I promise. I’ll do everything I can to get the two of you together.”

  It was then that Lilly went to Clint and hugged him around his waist. He bent down and kissed her on the head. Maegan held her own emotions in check. She knew that if Lilly went back with her dad, the likelihood was that she wouldn’t see much of her niece. Or—she looked over to the two of them—of Clint, either. The fragile family she seemed to be collecting was starting to scatter before it could even form. She wasn’t ready to lose what she’d barely found.

  Chapter Six

  Even though Maegan felt tired right down to her bones, she couldn’t sleep. She’d gone to bed early, hoping to fall into a deep slumber and wake up in the morning ready to do what she needed to do. She was going to stop Lilly from living with her father again. The girl couldn’t possibly want to live with that man. Clint had told her that his brother had left Lilly at the ranch without much of a backward glance. Did the girl really want to live with him? What kind of a life would she have if she did? Would Maegan ever see her niece again if that happened? Would Joe even take care of his daughter if she was traveling around with him? Would he even let her come with him?

  The list of worries was endless. Maegan suspected she could get a judge to agree it was in Lilly’s best interests to be raised by her or Clint. Either one of them was more stable than a wandering rodeo rider. Legal battles were fought over custody every day and Maegan could see lots of ways to twist this one in the direction she thought it should go. She had come so close to what she’d wanted all her life and it was hard to see her chance to be part of a family slip away. Shouldn’t she at least fight for what she wanted? That’s what the law was for.

  But as convinced as her mind was on the course of action she needed to take, her heart was ambivalent. Lilly’s feelings were so clear. And lying here awake only made everything worse. Remembering that Mrs. Hargrove had a small basket of tea bags, Maegan wondered if any of them were the kind that encouraged sleep. She looked at her watch. It was still early, not even nine o’clock yet, so she got up and walked over to the door. When she opened it, she saw the lights were on in the house’s kitchen. She could even see that someone, probably Mrs. Hargrove, was sitting at the table.

  Fortunately, Maegan was wearing an old sweat suit instead of pajamas so all she had to do was put on a jacket and her shoes before she stepped outside and walked down the stairs. The cold air hit her and, even with her heavy clothes, she instinctively folded her arms across her chest to gain more warmth. With every step she took, the ground cracked slightly so she knew ice was forming in places where water had spread over the ground earlier today. Someone must have used a hose for something. She stopped, staring for a moment at the full moon, and saw the white vapor of her breath trail away as she admired the night sky. Life seemed as fragile as that disappearing vapor right now.

  Tea could wait for a moment, she decided. She took a few steps to her right and looked down the street. The whole town of Dry Creek was at rest and it looked like a postcard to her. The place was more charming at night than in the daytime. A single streetlight gave the handful of buildings a soft look and long shadows promised something better than what was really there. The sight gave her comfort. This town was a good place and it survived hardships. Maybe she could as well.

  A gust of wind blew by and reminded her she needed to get back inside. She turned around and hurried toward the house. A porch light showed the driveway that led to the back door. She jogged the last few yards to the door and knocked with quick little taps. Mrs. Hargrove’s face appeared in the door’s window and she quickly turne
d the knob.

  “Goodness, step inside before you freeze to death,” the older woman said as she opened the door fully to her kitchen. Warm light spilled out into the darkness and the faint smell of tea drew Maegan inside.

  Mrs. Hargrove closed the door after her. “I hope you’re warm enough in your room. Charlie adjusted the heater up there last month, but if you need more blankets, I can get some from upstairs. We have plenty so don’t hesitate to let me know.”

  Maegan shook her head and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the brightness of the kitchen. “I’m just having some trouble sleeping and wondered if you had any of that tea that’s supposed to send you off to some dreamless state. What’s it called? Sleepy something.”

  “Sleep Tonight tea.” The older woman smiled. “Charlie uses it. I’m not surprised you’re having a hard time nodding off. We’ve had quite the day, haven’t we?”

  Maegan nodded and tried to think of something else to say. She couldn’t.

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure I have a bag of it,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she turned to her table. “I’ve got some hot water on the stove, too. I always have a cup of tea—or sometimes cocoa—as I sit here and read my Bible.”

  For the first time, Maegan looked at the table and saw the large black Bible lying open on top of the oilcloth Clint had been so taken with earlier today. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you when you’re—” She gave a wave of her hand that she hoped included whatever spiritual thing the older woman had been doing.

  “Oh, you’re not an interruption.” Mrs. Hargrove flipped through the tea bags in her basket trying to find the one she wanted. “In fact, I was just praying for you.”

  “Me?” Maegan squeaked. No one had ever prayed for her and, frankly, it made her nervous. Did that mean she had to do something to be sure the prayer was answered? She sure didn’t want to be responsible for someone losing their faith, especially not a sweet old lady like Mrs. Hargrove. But she didn’t have confidence any prayer for her would be answered.

  “Oh, here it is.” The older woman grinned as she held up a bag with a midnight-blue tag on it. Then she turned to the stove. “Take a seat and I’ll get you a cup of water in no time at all.”