Man From Montana

by Brenda Mott

  Connor grinned. “Sweet!” But then just as quickly he sobered. “I doubt my dad will go for it.”

  “Then we won’t tell him.” Kara knew she was overstepping her boundaries, and that she had no right. But Connor seemed to need something to boost his confidence. To get him out from the protective blanket Derrick had draped around him. After all, he was just four years away from being an adult. And besides, she had an idea.

  Connor licked his bottom lip. “You mean it?”

  “Sure.” Kara wiped the last of the wax from the Ford’s hood, then cleaned her hands on a rag. “Hey, I remember what it’s like to be fourteen. You don’t think I told my parents everything I did, do you?”

  He laughed.

  “So, why don’t you come in and we’ll wash up. Then we’ll call your dad and see if he’ll let me take you for a spin.”

  “Cool!”

  In the house, Kara looked up Derrick’s number in the half-inch-thick phone book for Sage Bend and its surrounding towns.

  “What’s up, Connor?” Derrick answered.

  “You should believe your caller ID,” Kara said. “It’s me.” She lowered her voice. “Derrick, Connor wants to go for a ride in my truck. I thought I might take him to see Indio, if that’s all right with you. Maybe that will inspire him to ride.”

  “Yeah, sure. No problem.”

  “Okay. We won’t be long.” She hung up just as Connor came into the living room.

  “Was that Dad?”

  “Yep. And we’re all set. He said you can go.”

  “Sweet!” Connor headed for the door, and Kara helped guide him over the threshold and down the steps.

  “I see your dad has been working on a wheelchair ramp for you,” she said as they headed for the Ford. “That’ll make things easier, huh?”

  “Yeah. I hate stairs.” Connor swung deftly into the pickup with scarcely any help from her, even though the truck sat higher off the ground than Derrick’s S-10. The strength in the boy’s arms surprised Kara.

  She thought back to the night at the Silver Spur, when he’d tipped over, but managed to catch his balance on one arm. The kid was wiry all right. And what he lacked for in physical ability, he seemed to more than make up for in spirit.

  Even if he didn’t seem to recognize it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  DERRICK KNEW THE THOUGHT was ridiculous, but for just a heartbeat as he’d hung up the phone, he’d second-guessed letting Connor go driving with Kara.

  Stupid.

  The first time Derrick had driven with Connor in the car after the accident was something he’d never forget. He’d nearly suffered a full-blown panic attack. Scared to death that if he so much as dented a fender while parking, Shelly would make sure he never saw Connor again.

  The first time he’d been allowed to take his son for the entire day, Derrick had been so happy, he’d wanted to go someplace special.

  They never made it to the zoo in Billings. The sight of Connor in his booster seat in the rearview mirror…déjà vu. Derrick had lost his nerve.

  Now Derrick sat on the front porch, staring at Kara’s empty driveway. He’s fine. They’re fine…everything is fine.

  The ringing phone startled him, and he hurried to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Derrick, it’s Mom.” She hesitated. “How are you?”

  He let out his breath and sank onto the couch. “I’m fine, Mom. Are you all right? Are you feeling okay?”

  “Actually, I’m doing much better. I…uh…I’m here in town. In Sage Bend. I was wondering…is it all right if I come over?”

  “Of course.” He couldn’t believe she was here.

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you on the spot.”

  “Yes.” The word came out hasty, panicked. Derrick softened his tone. “I’d love to see you, Mom. Did Connor tell you we moved?”

  “He did. I know right where your house is.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you in a few minutes, then.”

  He hung up the phone, caught up in a strange mixture of emotions. He had butterflies in his stomach—no, bats. Restless, Derrick went back outside and paced the length of the porch. It wasn’t more than five minutes before he saw a white Buick turn to park in front of his house.

  He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when his mother got out of the car. He’d seen her, maybe twice, in the last twelve years, and he wasn’t sure he would’ve recognized her if they’d passed on the street.

  Derrick hurried down the steps, his long strides eating up the distance between them.

  “Mom. It’s…good to see you.” He swallowed over the sudden lump in his throat. “Really good.”

  “Oh, Derrick.” She reached for him, tears spilling down her cheeks, washing makeup away from lines he didn’t remember. Her hair had gone completely gray, and she’d never weighed so little, but she was here. Alive and well.

  He hugged her, taking in her familiar scent of perfume and powder, memories washing over him.

  His mother, laughing as she pitched a baseball to him when he was nine. The two of them, taking a drive together when he’d gotten his learner’s permit. Carolyn beaming down at her newborn grandson, as she held Connor.

  Derrick didn’t want to recall the bad times…when she’d taken his father’s side and turned her back on him. He’d been only twenty.

  She could’ve died if the ovarian tumors had been cancerous. What if he’d never seen her again?

  He drew back, still holding on to her, staring into her blue eyes. “Mom, are you sure you’re feeling all right? Should you be driving this far so soon?” It had been—what? Five weeks—six—since she’d phoned him?

  “So soon?” Carolyn laughed through her tears. “It doesn’t feel soon enough to me, son.” She hugged him tight again. “I can’t believe I’m finally standing here.”

  “Neither can I.” Derrick sniffed, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. “Come in and sit down. Let me get you something cold to drink.”

  “I’d love that.” Carolyn climbed the steps, looking at the house as she went. The tension he’d initially seen on her face vanished, and she appeared more like her old self. “This is a lovely little house. I remember when it was painted pale blue, and the Rogers family lived here. They had four girls, a few years younger than you.”

  “I don’t remember,” Derrick said, holding the screen door for her. “Make yourself comfortable.” He wished he could follow his own advice. But he still had butterflies. “What would you like to drink? I’ve got pop, water or ice tea.”

  “I’m fine, Derrick, really.” She sat on the couch, still clinging to his hand. “Seeing you is all I need.”

  He sat beside her, and she touched his cheek. “I can’t believe how much you’ve changed. My God, you’re a grown man!” She put one hand over her mouth, tears squeezing from her eyes again. “You’re a grown man, and I don’t even know you…my own son. How could I have been so stupid?”

  “Hey, Mom. Shhh.” Derrick held her while she cried it out, his chest tight. After her tears subsided, he got her some tissues and a glass of water in spite of her protests.

  “I’m sorry, Derrick. I didn’t mean to fall to pieces on you like that.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He clasped his hands in his lap, not knowing where to begin…what to say.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” Carolyn said, blowing her nose.

  “I missed you, too.” More than he’d ever realized.

  At first, he’d felt only hurt and anger when his parents had pushed him away. He couldn’t begin to imagine doing the same thing to Connor. But his resentment had faded with the passage of time.

  “How did you get here without Dad throwing a fit?”

  Carolyn laughed without humor. “It wasn’t easy. I had to wait until he wasn’t home. I left him a note, which he should’ve gotten by now. I haven’t checked my cell phone messages, but I’m sure your father will be furious.”

  “I don’t want to ca
use trouble between the two of you.”

  “You’re not.” She took his hand. “Besides, I don’t care if the old coot is mad. I’m sick of letting him push me around.” Her voice carried a strength Derrick didn’t remember her having. “I guess the cancer scare gave me some backbone. This craziness has gone on long enough. You’re my only son—my only child. And I’m tired of not having you in my life. If your father doesn’t like that…well, he’ll just have to learn to live with it.” She took another sip of water, then clenched the glass in both hands. Her fingers looked somewhat aged, but strong.

  They sat in silence a moment. “Is Connor here?” Carolyn finally asked.

  “No. He’s…with a friend.”

  She nodded. “That’s just as well.” She looked both uncertain and determined. “I think it’s time you know why your father was so harsh in judging you after the accident.”

  Derrick frowned. “What do you mean? I already know why. Because of what I did to Connor.”

  “Yes, but there’s more to it than that. There’s a reason why Vernon reacted the way he did. A reason that has nothing to do with you at all.”

  KARA TOOK THE LONG WAY to the stable so she could drive past God’s Little Acre. No harm in pointing it out. As she and Connor neared it, she slowed the Ford considerably. Ahead, she spotted a young girl on a flashy black-and-white Paint horse headed their way, riding on the shoulder of the road.

  “Wow, that’s some horse,” Kara said.

  “Yeah.”

  But she could see the horse wasn’t the only thing that had caught Connor’s attention.

  The girl on the Paint looked to be close to Connor’s age, and she was cute. Her dark brown hair hung all the way to her waist, tied in a neat ponytail beneath her riding helmet. She stared back at Connor, lifting her hand as they passed.

  Connor turned to look over his shoulder through the pickup’s back window, and Kara hid a smile. “I love a purple horse,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Connor repeated. Then he looked at her and frowned. “Huh?”

  Kara laughed. “Nothing. I’m just razzing you.” She pointed as they neared the driveway of Melanie Spencer’s ranch. “That’s the riding center I told you about. Have you been by here before?”

  “Is that why you drove me out here? To try to get me to change my mind about riding with a bunch of retards?”

  Damn! “No, it’s not.” Kara gave him a look of reprimand. “I may not be your mom, but I won’t tolerate that kind of talk. How would you feel if someone called you a cripple instead of handicapped, or physically challenged?”

  “They have,” Connor said with a huff. “They’re just stupid words, that’s all. Dressing them up doesn’t change what I am or what those kids at God’s Little Acre are.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Kara said. “But it’s still rude.”

  He glanced defiantly at her. “Fine. Sorry.”

  “Connor, why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Put yourself down that way. My God, you’re a smart, talented young man. And you’re fun to be with, well, most of the time anyway.” She softened the words with a smile. “You need to believe in yourself.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “And would it be so horrible to do something nice for your dad?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’d really like you to give the riding center a try. It’s good to get out and get fresh air and exercise, and you might even have fun.”

  “I get fresh air sitting on the porch, and I can’t exercise.”

  “That’s not true.” Kara turned one hand palm up. “Look how strong and muscular your arms are. You must work your upper body during physical therapy, right?”

  “I guess so.” Connor shrugged.

  “Your dad loves you just the way you are, Connor. He only wants what’s best for you.”

  His face reddened. “I know that. But I’m not so sure he doesn’t wish he had a son who could run and toss the old football with him. Or rope a calf.”

  “Why can’t you rope a calf?”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Are your arms paralyzed?”

  “No.”

  “Do you rope with your feet?”

  He let out a laugh. “Guess not.”

  “Well, there you go.” Kara pursed her lips. “You’ve got great upper body strength, and there’s no reason why you can’t ride a horse.”

  The look on Connor’s face changed, just enough for her to see he was thinking. “Maybe you won’t break any calf-roping records,” Kara continued, “but you can still have a good time.” She drove on, leaving God’s Little Acre behind. “You’ll see when you meet Indio.”

  “I don’t know.” Connor stared out the windshield.

  “Well, I do. And don’t forget about our drive.”

  He brightened. “Now you’re talkin’.”

  Kara laughed and cranked up the radio. Connor grinned, then sang along with Hank Williams.

  DERRICK STARED at his mother. “I’m listening,” he said. “What do you mean, it didn’t have anything to do with me?”

  Carolyn leaned back against the couch. “Your father had a younger brother, your Uncle Rex.”

  Derrick nodded. “The one he’d never talk about. He died young.”

  “Very young.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “Your father was five years older than Rex. When Vernon was thirteen, he took Rex pheasant hunting. Your grandpa had told him not to go—not without adult supervision—but your father didn’t listen.”

  Derek could guess where this story was going.

  “Vernon knew enough not to climb through a fence with a loaded shotgun. So he leaned his 12 gauge against a fence post.”

  She closed her eyes briefly.

  “Rex got shot,” Derrick said quietly.

  “Yes. It was so horrible. When Rex pressed down on the barbed wire and climbed through, the shotgun fell over and went off. The shot hit him in the face and the chest. He was gone before Vernon could get back with help.”

  “My God.”

  “Vernon told me he’d never forget the sight of Rex lying on the ground, so still and…blood everywhere. Or the wail your grandpa let out when he saw his baby boy lying there like that. Your grandparents didn’t blame Vernon, but your father never forgave himself. He never so much as touched a gun again, and from what your grandma told me, Vernon was never the same person after that.”

  “I guess not.” Derrick swallowed hard, fully understanding the scope of his dad’s guilt.

  “So when you wrecked your car and Connor got hurt…”

  Derrick felt sick.

  Carolyn swiped away tears. “In your father’s eyes, his brother had died because he acted irresponsibly in taking him hunting when he’d been told not to. And you acted just as irresponsibly in drag racing with Connor in the car.”

  Derrick laid a shaky hand on her shoulder. He was…angry, sad…guilty. “I was careless, and what I did was plain stupid.”

  “But you were just a kid.” Carolyn slipped her hand over his. “Like Vernon was.”

  Derrick laughed without humor. “Looks like dad and I have something in common after all.”

  Carolyn’s eyes filled with sadness. “They were both terrible accidents. And I can’t get your father to see the hypocrisy in what we’ve done to you.”

  “You didn’t do anything to me,” Derrick said quietly. “I brought it on myself.”

  “You made a mistake,” Carolyn said, squeezing his hand for emphasis. “I finally see that—and I can forgive you, son. Vernon needs to forgive you so he can move on.” She started to cry again. “I’m just sorry it took me so long to realize this.”

  “Don’t cry, Mom.” Derrick took a tissue and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I love you. I’m so glad you came to see me. Told me about Rex.”

  “I should’ve told you sooner. You have to get past the guilt, Derrick.”

  “How can I? I ruined Connor�
�s life.”

  “No!” The single word held so much pain. “His life isn’t ruined, just because he’s handicapped. Derrick, why can’t you see that? I’ve forgiven you for what you did, and now you need to forgive yourself.” She stood and paced. “Damn it, you’re every bit as stubborn as your father!”

  Derrick shrugged. “Looks like.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  CONNOR SAT BUCKLED into the driver’s seat beside Kara. To their left, the hayfield, to their right, a wire fence.

  “Here we go.”

  “What if I hit the fence?” Connor ran his hands nervously around the steering wheel, then pointed at the field. “Can’t we drive out there?”

  “Uh-uh. Sharon said we could drive around the perimeter, but if I ruin her alfalfa, she’ll strangle me.” Kara smiled. “Come on. You can do it. I’m right here and, like I said, I’ll step on the brake if you need me to. Here.” She slid her left foot over and pressed the brake, bumping Connor’s knee even though she’d tucked his legs as far to the left as she could. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I can’t feel it.” He grinned crookedly.

  Kara chuckled. “All right, then.” She gestured toward the gearshift on the steering column. “Put ’er in Drive.”

  Hesitantly, Connor took hold of the gearshift and maneuvered it until he had the red-orange indicator lined up on D.

  “Ready?” Kara asked.

  He nodded, and she took her foot off the brake and pulled her leg out of his way. The Ford rolled slowly forward, moving at a snail’s pace.

  Connor’s eyes lit up. “Rad!”

  Kara laughed.

  On the slight slope of the hayfield, the truck continued to roll. Connor focused intently, the tip of his tongue poking between his lips as he steered.

  “Can we go faster?” he asked.

  “All right, but only a little.” She slid her foot onto the accelerator, then laughed as she pressed too hard and the truck jerked forward. “Sorry. It’s awkward, using my left foot.”