by Sherri Sand
Sid continued, “God had other plans.”
She ripped the plastic off the package of meat. “Don’t you ever think God is just too big to get caught up in the minuscule details of our lives? I mean there’s war, Sid. And famine. Big things for Him to worry about.” She shrugged. “Or ignore. I don’t think He’s too concerned about me and my kids.”
Sid leaned forward, an intent look on his face, tufts of hair sticking up on end. But the words were gentle, kind. “That’s where you’d be wrong. Who do you think brought you into this world? Your mother? You think you and your husband could just form those three little kids on your own? You don’t think a Creator was involved in that? And that if He was involved enough to create your life, He’d be pretty invested in its outcome?”
Sierra bit her lip, a part of her longing to believe that what he said was true. But there was too much evidence against it. She arranged the ribs in a pan, keeping her back to him. “I believe in God. I did the whole ‘asking Jesus into my heart’ thing when I was thirteen.” A pang struck as the flash of remembrance slid over her like a wool blanket that had grown too scratchy. The easy relationship she thought she had with God, comfort and security wrapped in a loving heavenly Father, had died along with her dad. She brushed the past aside. She’d grown up since then. Gotten married, had kids, been betrayed … God hadn’t seemed to care enough to keep up with her, just kind of drifted back to His heavenly places.
“He lost interest in me long ago.” She gave him a quick smile over her shoulder. “But I’m glad your faith helped you through a tough time.”
“So what are you going to do about Ross?”
“There’s nothing to do about Ross.”
Humor deepened the lines around his mouth. “You were just hanging on to make him feel better?”
Embarrassment burned her skin from the inside. Sierra shoved the ribs into the oven and set the timer. “I’m going to make some biscuits. Do you need help getting back to the couch?”
Sid’s laugh loosened the knot between her shoulders, and she gave him a wry grin. “Sid Barrows, you’d better hightail it, or I’ll short-sheet your bed.”
His laugh deepened. “Wouldn’t surprise me if you did. Wouldn’t surprise me at all.”
Chapter 20
Ross tossed a sack of mortar next to where one of the retaining walls would go. Why had he been such an idiot and kissed her? Because he wanted to, that was why. And it was the stupidest thing he’d done in a long time. Especially when he was still mad at her. He tried to ignore the memory of her pressed close to him, holding on and kissing him in return.
He grabbed another sack and lobbed it on top of the first, and the guilt he’d been trying to avoid hit him. He’d no business kissing her in the first place, not knowing if her heart belonged to God or not. He paused, the heavy sack resting against his thigh. But he didn’t know that for sure. She’d prayed with them at dinner.
Stop it, Ross. Things may not always be clearly black and white, but he wasn’t going to start blurring the lines.
Abbey’s green Honda pulled up and parked. Braden jumped out and ran over to him with a big grin. “Need any help?”
He sure loved the boy, but that only complicated things with Sierra.
“I believe I do. You want to start offloading those rocks from the trailer and stack them right here?”
“Sure.” Braden headed for Ross’s pickup cab where his gloves were stored. “Hi, Big Red.” The boy waved to the tall redheaded crew boss, who was orchestrating the planting of some shrubs.
Dusk set in a couple hours later, and Ross wiped his sleeve across his forehead.
Braden stood next to the rocks he’d stacked, one shoulder slumped lower than the other. Dirt and dust covered his dark jeans, and he wore a tired smile.
“You ready to quit yet?” Ross asked.
“Yeah.”
“Hop in and I’ll take you home.”
In the cab, Braden stuffed his gloves back in the pocket on the bottom of the passenger door. “Ross?”
“Yeah?” He looked over. Braden was staring down at his feet.
“We’re doing 4-H and there’s a clinic coming up…. I don’t know how to do any of the games.”
“What games are you talking about?” Ross wished he had the time to teach him, but until this job was done, he just couldn’t.
The boy’s white teeth flashed in a grin. “I think the keyhole and the flag race sound the funnest.”
“Those were my two favorites.”
“Yeah, Sid told me.” He looked out the side window. “I asked my dad, but he doesn’t know anything about them and he’s too busy right now anyway.” He turned toward Ross. “You’re busy too, so if you can’t teach me, that’s okay.”
Ross stared out the windshield—Alex Cranwell pulling from one side and a pair of vulnerable brown eyes in the face of a lost boy pulling him from the other. “I won’t have much time, but we can probably fit some training in right before dinner every day and after church. What do you think?”
“Cool! Thanks, Ross.”
Ross pulled into the driveway behind Sierra’s van and idled the truck.
Braden grabbed the door handle. “You want to come in?”
Part of him was tempted and his hand reached to shut off the ignition, but he saw Sierra glance out the window and then walk away. He sighed. “Not tonight.”
Probably not for many nights.
At eight-thirty, working under floodlights he’d rented a week ago, Ross watched the gold Mercedes pull up to the garage. Alex got out and sauntered over, resting his foot on a bag of grass seed next to the shipment of arborvitaes and rhododendrons. He rubbed his chin in a way that didn’t bode well for the crisp evening.
Ross nodded. “I see you made it back.”
Alex twisted to look out over the valley. “Yeah, flew in this afternoon. Got another contract lined out with a Seattle retailer that bought some property on the west side of town.”
The dangling carrot was meant to make Ross salivate, and it did.
He surveyed the yard. “Frankly, I was disappointed when I pulled up. I thought you’d be a lot further along.”
Ross felt the muscle in his jaw flex, and he shifted his stance.
“You see,” Alex went on, “when you’ve got the potential to get some lucrative contracts, you want to make sure those contracts don’t go away. And to do that you need to make sure everyone is happy. And right now, Ross, I’m not happy. What do you think? Do you think I’m going to be happy come Christmas?”
“I’m certain you will be.” The words came out flat.
“I sure hope so.” Alex straightened, flashing porcelain caps. He clapped Ross on the shoulder on his way back toward the house. “I’m glad we had this talk.”
Ross seethed. Alex knew why he wasn’t further along. In the past few weeks, Marie Cranwell had created six change orders, all with Alex’s okay. The last one required them to rip out a mortared flagstone border that curved along the south side of the new English garden. The border had taken three weeks to install, but Marie decided she would prefer a powder-coated wrought iron fence instead.
“Alex.” The man turned and Ross walked to meet him. “I’ve mailed a couple invoices for the change orders, but haven’t received payment.”
Alex shook his head, as if he’d figured all along it’d head in this direction. “Ross, let me be straight with you. You bid this job, and I expect you to complete it based on the price you gave me.” He placed an arm across Ross’s shoulders, walking him back toward the arborvitaes. “When I bid a job I do everything in my power to make my customer happy. And my customer is happy when he gets what he asked for, and pays what we’d agreed on.”
Ross stopped and Alex’s arm slid off his shoulders. “You agreed to pay the change orders out of pocket.”
Alex looked at him hard, like a father who was disappointed when his son just didn’t comprehend something. After a five-beat pause, a grin wiped the look away. “
Ross, I like you. I think you’ll go far in commercial landscaping.” He shook his head, his eyes boring into Ross’s. “Don’t let anything get in your way.”
“You’re awfully quiet tonight, honey.”
Sierra gave her mom a smile. “Long day, I guess.” The kiss and the way Ross had walked away from her today were too much on her mind. And the conversation with Sid kept creeping back. Were people like Sid and Elise deluded, or had they discovered the key to trusting God that seemed to evade her? Her hand faltered as she reached to pick up one of Trevor’s LEGO toys. Or did God just have an easier time loving them?
Sierra tucked the kids in bed then headed to the kitchen. The warm, buttery smell of popcorn wafted to her. “Yum.”
Her mom turned. “I thought you looked like you could use some popcorn.” She pulled a mug from the microwave. “And hot chocolate.”
A soft laugh pressed through. “You take such good care of us, Mom.”
Her mom waved a hand, but her smile was pleased. “Oh, honey. That’s what moms are for.”
Sierra plopped at the table and dug a handful of popcorn out. “Mom, how do you know that God cares?”
“The Bible tells us He does. What else do we have if we don’t have God?”
“I don’t mean the nebulous knowledge that there is a God out there in the universe somewhere that loves you. I mean in the day-to-day. When Dad died, when Michael left. When Braden started getting so angry. Where was God’s love then?”
Her mom wiped her napkin in a tiny circle and gave her a tight smile. “You just know it’s there, honey. I’ll get us some waters.”
In bed, Sierra held her cell phone, the silver case slick under her thumb. She paused, then pressed Elise’s number.
“Hi, hon. See anymore of Mr. Sizzle?”
“Um, a little too much.” She knew Elise’s eyebrows were rising. “But I don’t want to talk about it yet.”
She ran her thumbnail down the side of the silk piping on the creamy antique comforter. “Elise, you said God was talking to me when I got the job with Sid. What did you mean?”
“I meant that He’s showing you that He cares.”
“He seems pretty unreliable. I mean, how can you trust a God that helps you sometimes, but not others, especially when it comes to the big stuff?”
“Hon, He doesn’t say that nothing bad will happen if you trust Him. Just that you will never be alone again.”
Sierra drew her knees up to her chin and smoothed a finger over a shiny maroon toenail. “But I’ve felt pretty alone.”
Elise sighed. “Yeah. Feelings can be the toughest roadblock. Hon, look at it like this. If your world is a paperback, God’s truth is always on the same page. You can open the book, shut it, flip the pages, turn it upside down, but the truth remains right where it always was. Feelings, they’ll jump all over. You’re never going to find the same one anywhere. Feelings change, truth doesn’t. You have to decide which you are going to trust.”
“You and your analogies.”
“I know; it’s a gift.” Elise paused. “I’m going to church tomorrow if you want to check it out.”
“Church leaves me feeling dry.”
“Hon, nothing against your mom’s church, but mine doesn’t have the yawn factor hers does.”
Sierra laughed. “Shouldn’t you be worried about a lightning bolt or something?”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret. God adores my sense of humor.” Elise laughed, but Sierra could tell she meant it. Sierra’s mom would be running for cover if she’d heard Elise.
“Thanks, but I don’t think I’m there yet.”
“Just so you know, God isn’t a destination. He’s the transportation.”
The next evening Sierra had just put Sid’s plate on the table when she heard knocking on his front door. She hurried from the kitchen. It’d be just like Sid to try to get up and answer it.
Trevor’s cupped face peered into the living room window to the right of the front door. Emory’s joined his.
Sid chuckled. “I think the herd has arrived.”
Sierra opened the door. “Hi guys!”
Her mom ushered the kids in and looked toward the couch with a smile. “We were passing by and wanted to stop in and meet you.”
“Sid, this is my mom, Abbey. Mom, this is Sid.”
Her mom shook his outstretched hand. “It’s good to meet you. I hear you’re partial to prune juice and rutabagas.”
He slapped his good leg with a chuckle. “That girl of yours sure knows how to fix a meal, and I hear she learned it from the best.”
Her mom beamed, Emory at her side. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Abbey said, “but I do love to cook.”
Sierra heard Ross’s pickup come rumbling toward the house, and she glanced out the window to see Braden fling open the passenger door and run up the steps and into the house. After a quick hug, he said, “Ross needs to talk to you.”
“About what?” Her heart started to beat harder. She hadn’t seen him since the kiss yesterday. Not that she thought about it much. Except, of course, when she was cooking, eating, trying to sleep, or breathing.
Braden’s eyes slid toward his grandma. “About helping me work with Chance for my 4-H clinic.”
Panic zinged up her spine and her heart started pounding. “I don’t think—”
A spark in his eye, Sid leaned toward Braden. “What is he gonna teach you?”
Braden brightened. “The keyhole and the flag race.”
Sid slapped his leg. “His best events. He’ll teach you all the tricks.”
Braden’s grin grew wider, then he turned for the front door. “I’m going to wait in the pickup.”
“Wait, I—” Sierra said.
Braden’s shoulders sagged and he looked at her, the old sullenness shadowed in his eyes. “What, Mom?”
“I just—” She looked at her mom, who’d tilted her head as if to say, Let him do this, honey. Sierra rubbed a hand over his shoulder. “Be careful, please.”
A radiant grin emerged, and he turned and bounded out the front door. She watched him run over to the pickup and climb in. The driver’s door opened and Ross climbed out. Sierra met him on the front porch.
His eyes held hers for a long moment before his gaze moved toward the barn. “Braden said you okayed my working with him and Chance.”
“Not totally, but everyone seems to think it’ll be okay.”
He gave her a half-smile, his eyes soft. “I understand, Sierra. He’ll be fine. Trust me.”
Her heart lurched and she looked at him. “I’d like to.”
He glanced away, started to say something, then stopped. He stuck his hands in his pockets and turned, heading back down the steps. “We’ll be about an hour or so,” he said over his shoulder.
Sierra wrapped her arms around her waist against the chill and went into the house and closed the door, her eyes straying toward the living room window where she could see Ross’s pickup roll down the driveway.
Her mom chuckled. “It’s not like it’s Trevor out there. Braden’s eleven, honey.”
The same age Molly had been.
Braden felt his heart speed up. He was going to ride Chance. He looked over at Ross, who grinned back. “You look tired,” Braden said.
“Not too tired to go riding.”
Braden leaned forward, wishing Ross would drive faster. At the barn, he jumped out and waited for Ross to climb out of the pickup. Come on! Ross rounded the front of the pickup and laid a hand across his back. It made Braden’s chest feel warm, like when his mom gave him a hug.
Inside the barn, Ross nodded toward the wall. “Get the lead rope and bring him in. While I set up the course, you can give him a good brushing.”
Braden stopped. “By myself?”
Ross turned. “You comb your own hair by yourself, don’t you?”
“Cool!” Braden grabbed the lead and walked out to the pasture, the grass making the front of his tennis shoes wet. Chance let him walk rig
ht up, his big nose sniffing Braden’s hand and shoulder. Braden clipped the lead to the metal ring of his halter, and they turned for the barn. Chance plodded right behind him. Yes! Braden’s heart beat so hard.
Once inside, Ross showed him how to cross-tie Chance. “Now, when you curry him, you need to be careful over his back and shoulders. His bones are right below the skin, and you can hurt him.” Braden nodded, making sure to be extra careful.
When Ross left to go get the saddle, Braden ran the rubber currycomb over the big body, and Chance nickered. A warm feeling swelled inside.
Ross walked toward him, carrying Chance’s large saddle in his arms. “Looking good. How about we saddle him up?”
He showed Braden where to place the blanket and saddle so it didn’t pull Chance’s hair, then he cinched the belly strap and adjusted the buckles. “Now after we walk him a bit, we’ll tighten the cinch again. Wouldn’t want it to roll out from under you when you’re rounding the barrel, would we?”
“No!” That’d really freak his mom. She’d probably never let him on Chance again.
Ross untied Chance’s halter and looped it around the horse’s neck then lifted the bridle. “This is a snaffle. We ask Chance to open his mouth by putting our fingers right here.” Ross held the bridle up by Chance’s nose and slipped his thumb into the side of the horse’s mouth. “When he opens, we put the bit in his mouth like that, then lift this part up and tuck his ears in.” The bridle slid into place.
Braden itched to get on Chance “Can I ride him now?”
“Let’s lead him outside, and I’ll take him around the first time.” He leaned closer and nodded toward Sid’s. “In case your mom is watching with binoculars.”
Braden laughed. “Okay. Then can I try?”
“You bet.”
