The video ended and students tripped over each other to get out of the classroom. The rest of the day seemed eternal but when school finally ended, I walked to the parking lot to head to the bookstore. I smiled when I saw Henry waiting for me at the Jeep. He had his hands in his pockets and he watched me walk toward him. I still found it hard to believe that it was me he waited for. I felt like glancing behind me just to make sure.
“Hi, Meg,” he said simply. “Good day?”
He pulled me into him and leaned back on the Jeep. I marveled again at how comfortable I was being this close to him. I soaked up his warmth and breathed in his smell.
“Yeah, okay day, I guess. I’ve got a ton of homework to do during the holiday though.”
“Me, too. We’ll work on it together. Will you do something for me?”
“Anything,” I said, a little too dreamily. Who is this girl?
“My sisters are coming in this weekend, and my mom’s planning a big pre-Thanksgiving dinner for our family and a few of the ranch hands. We all want you to be there, if you can.”
“I’d be meeting everyone? All at once?”
He grinned when he saw how uncomfortable I was.
“They’re going to love you to death, Meg. Heck, they feel like they already know you. I talk about you a little too much.”
He took my hand and put it between his like he was praying, or begging.
I took a deep breath. “Yeah, sure, I’d like to. Thanks.”
“Good. That’ll make it perfect. Wear something warm and bring a heavy coat. We’ll be outside around a campfire after dinner, if my mom gets her way, which she always does.”
He rolled his eyes and smiled.
“I’d come to town to get you but I promised my mom I’d stick around to help her build the fire and keep an eye on it while she cooks. I’ll follow you home afterwards, of course.”
“That’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just give me clear directions because I’d definitely get lost somewhere on the reservation. No one would ever hear from me again.”
He reached across my shoulder and unzipped my backpack, put his hand in and pulled out a notebook with a pen jammed in the spiral.
“You like words or pictures?”
“Words, definitely.”
“Figures.” He smiled and opened my notebook, paused to read something I’d written, and then he grinned up at me for a second.
Crap… what did he just read?
I felt my entire head heat up.
He wrote out a list of directions in his typically male handwriting. When he finished, he read it to me with some explanation of landmarks. He made me repeat it back to him while he listened closely, smiling the entire time. Then he ripped the paper out, folded it, and drew a big heart on the back with “Meg” in the middle. He reached into the Jeep and jammed the corner of the paper into the dash so that it stood up noticeably—as if I would ever lose it.
“I’ll see you at five o’clock,” he said as he reached for me again. “It’ll take you thirty minutes to get there.”
I put my arms inside his unbuttoned coat and pulled him tightly into me. I rested my face on his shoulder and let my lips brush his collarbone. “You should go to work now, Meg,” he whispered as he kissed the top of my head.
When I backed out in the Jeep, I grabbed the paper with directions on it and opened it with one hand. Darn my twelve-year-old maturity. I’d written “Henry and Meg Whitmire” about a thousand times in the margins of the page, with the names of our babies—Ella and Charlie.
Next to the first “Henry and Meg” on the page, Henry had written, “Promise?”
Well, that genie’s out of the bottle and there’s no stuffing her back in.
I thought Saturday afternoon would never get here. I spent the day with Dad and we ran together in the morning for the first time since we’d moved here. We used to run in Pittsburgh at least three times a week before school and work. On our way back to the house, we stopped for breakfast at a coffee shop and Dad wanted to talk.
“You’re a lovely person, Meg.” He looked at me for so long, I started to squirm. “I’m so proud of how you’ve handled yourself through everything.”
“You don’t have to say that, Dad,” I mumbled.
“Okay, then, let’s talk about Henry.”
Better subject. “Well, he’s great. He’s worked on their ranch for so long, he seems a lot more mature than a normal eighteen-year-old. He’s really been nice to me, and I like him, a lot.”
“I guess you’re more than friends, then.”
“Definitely more than friends. It’s just really comfortable. I can’t explain it, but he seems to understand me.”
“And tonight, you’re going to meet his family?”
“Yes. He has three older sisters who will all be in for the weekend. One of them lives in Nicaragua so it’s kind of a big deal that they’re all together.”
“Well, I’m happy you’ve found someone you trust, Meg.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
The day dragged on with laundry and cleaning. I sat down at two o’clock and tried to work on homework, but I couldn’t think of anything but my mom. I decided to email her.
TO: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Remember Brad Calloway?
Do you remember the time I was walking back from the bus stop when I was about ten, and Brad was hiding in a bush and he started throwing little rocks at my head as I walked by? I was so humiliated. I didn’t even think Brad knew who I was. Why in the world would he hate me so much? I didn’t know what to do, so I just pretended I didn’t feel it, and I kept walking. My face was burning with shame. And then suddenly I heard a THUNK and a GASP and the rocks stopped. I didn’t dare look back, but I did worry that something horrible had eaten Brad.
When I got to our front porch, I hid behind the railing and peeked back to the bush where Brad had been and I saw Wyatt. He held Brad on the ground with one knee on his chest, and hit him in the face with his fist. He’d been watching me to make sure I made it from the bus stop to the porch and he saw what Brad was doing. So he ran around Brad’s house and came up on him from behind and tackled him in the grass. Then he told him if it ever happened again he’d make sure Brad never threw a baseball again. I seem to remember you got an angry phone call from Mrs. Jeffreys that night.
I knew, from the time I could think my own thoughts that Wyatt was going to look out for me. He was going to make sure I grew up without being messed with.
I miss him, too, Mom. It’s kind of pointless to even say that. I know you’re doing the best you can and I want you to know that I can be patient and I will be here waiting no matter how long it takes. I want you to come back to us.
I know that I can do okay if no one talks to me about it. But as soon as someone smiles sweetly, like they know, or looks at me tenderly, that’s when I want to fall apart. Is that the way you are?
That’s why I haven’t told anyone here about Wyatt. Is it harder to be back in Canning Mills where everyone knows? Do you think that if we wrote to each other about things, we could help each other?
Why haven’t you responded to my emails? Aunt Catherine says you’re okay. Could you just reply so I’ll know you got this? No matter what, Mom, I love you.
Meg
I hit send, knowing I wouldn’t get a response, and then got up to take a shower. I’d never started getting ready for anything more than thirty minutes ahead of time, but I was too nervous to wait any longer. I washed my hair and blew it dry. I even used Mom’s flat iron and straightened it further. I found my pitiful bag with the few makeup items I owned in it. I tried some powder and blush. I used an eyeliner and mascara. I found some lip gloss that someone gave me for my birthday one year. It was still in the package. I put it on and was pleasantly surprised. Where had this stuff been all my life? It felt and smelled good.
Henry said to dress warmly. The temperature was falling into the teens and twenties at night here, so I expected to be freezing. I fou
nd the black long silk tights and shirt that my mom bought me for skiing. Over these, I pulled on my favorite pair of skinny jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. I dug out my tall suede black boots and pulled them on over my jeans. I tried to remember if I owned perfume. I emptied out my dresser drawers until I found a bottle that my mom gave me one year. It smelled like lemons and strawberries. I took a look in the full-length mirror behind the bathroom door, and decided the reflection wasn’t bad.
I waited in the living room with Dad until four-thirty. We filled the time watching the end of the Colorado-Texas football game. When I stood up to get my coat, I heard my dad whistle low and long. “You look beautiful, Meg. Like your mother looked when I first saw her at Penn.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Do you know where you’re going?”
“Yes,” I answered, cringing a little when I remembered the “Henry and Meg Whitmire” doodles burning a hole in my page of directions. “Henry gave me directions, and he’s going to follow me home tonight.”
“Tell him I said thanks for that. That means a lot to me. You’ve got your cell phone?”
“Yep. You’re speed dial #1, Dad.”
He walked me out to the Jeep and looked my tires over and checked my gas gauge. He seemed to be having a hard time letting me leave.
“I’ll be home by ten o’clock.”
“Okay, babe. Be careful.”
I waved as I backed out of the drive and headed out of town toward Henry’s.
The drive to Henry’s turn-off took exactly thirty minutes. The dirt road wound through beautiful pasture land full of black cows. I could see a large log home in the distance on a hill. A small creek curved through the field, and there were several barns and smaller cabins in a grouping to the left of the main house. I drove closer and saw a few cars in the drive. My pulse raced and I found myself wishing Henry had driven me. I didn’t want to park and walk to the door alone.
People milled around the huge bonfire that Henry had built. They looked up when they heard my Jeep, and a woman separated from the group and walked toward me smiling. Henry’s mother was tall and thin just like him. She had long wavy dark hair and Henry’s beautiful smile. I parked and opened my door just as she reached the Jeep.
“Meg!” She held out her arms to hug me. “We are so thrilled you’re here. Did you have any trouble finding us? Henry has told me so much, I feel like I already know you.”
“Thanks for inviting me, Mrs. Whitmire. It’s beautiful here. So peaceful. I understand now why Henry loves it so much.”
“Call me Miriam, honey. He does love it here. We all do. I didn’t grow up like this though. I was a city girl like you. It took me a few years to understand how to keep all the moving parts running smoothly out here. But now I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else on the face of God’s green earth.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her. “Where’s Henry?” I looked around for his familiar form.
“He and Leah are racing their horses. They’ve had a standing competition since they were little. Leah thinks she’ll be able to hornswoggle a win this year. But, between you and me, she doesn’t have a chance.”
She pointed toward a far pasture, and I could see two horses blazing through the grass. They were so far away I couldn’t hear them but I could see the dust being kicked up behind them as they ran at a furious pace. Ben and Henry were in the lead, but barely. Leah rode a black horse and her long hair flew out behind her. As they got closer, I began to hear the horses’ hooves hitting the ground. It was like watching a movie. Henry leaned close to Ben’s neck and looked back at Leah. Leah kicked her horse frantically and when they reached a finish line that was invisible to me, both of them leaned back and pulled on their reins. The horses slowed to a trot and then circled around to stop face to face. I could see Henry laughing and Leah yelling.
“Come on, Meg. Everyone is dying to meet you,” Mrs. Whitmire said, taking my arm and leading me toward the bonfire. The group swarmed me suddenly. Henry’s dad had dark hair and Henry’s expressive brown eyes. He gave me a big hug and held my hand gently as he talked to me. “Meg, we thought you’d never come out. I’m Clayton Whitmire. Henry’s gonna kick himself that he was off playing when you got here.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Whitmire. Henry has told me all about you.”
“Well, not as much as he’s told us about you. I’d wager the ranch on that. He’s really taken a cotton to you and I can see why.”
As I was pondering what language Mr. Whitmire spoke, Amelia and Kate introduced themselves. They both looked like models who also happened to be cowgirls. Henry’s nephew, Whit, threw himself into Kate’s arms and smiled shyly at me.
“You must be Whit,” I said, smiling at the dark-haired live-wire wearing Wranglers, boots, and a black cowboy hat.
“He’s an ornery little thing, just like his Uncle Henry,” laughed Kate. “It’s a good thing we’re home for a month of rest.”
Kate’s husband, John, introduced himself next and told me about the kids at the orphanage. While we made small talk, I watched Henry and Leah make their way toward us. Henry’s eyes were smiling when he got to me.
“Sorry I was riding when you got here,” he said, pushing his hand through my hair to touch my neck. I jumped at the freezing cold touch and he smiled mischievously. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are my hands cold?”
I narrowed my eyes at him and nodded.
“Have you met everyone?” he asked. “Mom and Dad and Kate and Amelia? Did you meet this little rapscallion?” Henry laughed when Whit reached for him and settled into his arms comfortably. “And this is Leah. She and I are closest in age. She learned to rope calves by roping me, so I’d recommend you keep your distance.”
Leah elbowed him in the ribs and then shook my hand with both of hers. “I’m really glad to meet you, Meg. I’ve told Henry he needs to be on his best behavior around you if he plans to keep you but he never listens to me. I hope he doesn’t screw things up because you seem really nice.”
I laughed, remembering how brutally Wyatt teased me in front of my friends. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Leah. From here, it looked like you beat Henry.”
“Hah! I like this girl, Henry. She’s smarter than you.”
“No doubt about that.” He took my hand and winked at me, as he lowered Whit to the ground, patted his Wrangler-covered bottom, and said, “Take off, brother.”
Mrs. Whitmire came up behind Henry and hugged him around the waist. “Why don’t you show Meg around the house and the barns? Has she ridden Ben yet?”
“I can’t put her on Ben, Mom. But I can show her around.”
“Mrs. Whitmire, can I help you with anything?” I asked.
“Goodness no, Meg. That’s what these daughters are for.” She patted my back and called her daughters. They walked with their arms around each other, smiling and laughing. I stared at them until Henry lifted me into a big hug.
“What do you want to see first, honey?”
“First, I want to ride Ben as fast as you were. And what does hornswoggle mean?”
He threw his head back and laughed deeply. “That was my grandmother’s word for cheating. Why, somebody already trying to cheat you out here? Give me a name and I’ll give ’em what-for.”
“And your dad said that you’ve taken a cotton to me. What’s that all about?”
“Man, he’s giving away all my secrets.” I could swear Henry blushed and then he said, “It means I like you a whole lot.”
So I was right. I smiled, and he changed the subject.
“And, about Ben…do you think I’m an idiot? I would never put you on him alone. My mom knows that. She’s just trying to upset the apple cart. She’s not as sweet as she looks.”
“Come on, I stayed on Trouble just fine.”
He stopped and put his hands on my shoulders. “Two entirely different horses, babe. You can just forget about it. By the way, you look beautiful. Really. Amazing.”
�
�You trying to distract me, Henry?”
“Yeah, how am I doing?” he asked as he wrapped his arm around my waist and began walking down the hill toward the largest barn.
“See this barn? I put the roof on it a few years ago. I thought it would kill me before I finished.” He pulled his sleeve up and showed me a large white scar on his forearm. “Metal cut me from head to toe. This one needed fifteen stitches. The wind blew right as I was pulling a sheet up and it sliced through my arm. My mom about fainted when I walked into her clean kitchen with blood running off my arm.”
I ran my finger across the bumpy scar and shuddered.
The inside of the barn was pristine, with perfectly stacked hay in the loft making the whole place smell sweet. There was a huge tractor and a lot of farming equipment that I couldn’t name. At one end of the barn, a long, thick rope hung from the center beam in the ceiling.
“What’s that?”
“You really don’t know? You’re such a city girl.”
“Well, are you going to tell me or malign my character?”
He smirked and then climbed a ladder up to a third story loft, above the stacks of hay. He carefully reached out and grabbed the rope and slowly pulled it back to him. Then he jumped and swung quickly out and over my head, probably by ten feet, but he was moving so fast that my hair blew back. He landed easily back on the loft and held the rope in one hand.
He grinned wickedly down at me. “Wanna try it?”
“Yes!” I scurried up the ladder to get to him.
“Slow down, Meg. You’re gonna fall.” He scrambled down to the hay-loft and reached out for me. He grabbed me around the waist when I got to the top of the ladder and lifted me over a short partition that kept the hay bales from falling down to the floor of the barn.
He suddenly pulled me tightly to him. “Hey, you. Thanks for coming. It’s so cool to see you here in my barn.”
He leaned down to kiss me, and not like he’s kissed me before. Before he seemed gentle, careful, and almost hesitant, trying to judge how I would feel about it; but now he pulled me into him with one arm wrapped tightly around my back, and his hand sliding under my hair to hold my head close. I felt each of his fingers pressing into my skin, and he kissed me so deeply that I must’ve stopped breathing because I was suddenly dizzy. I grabbed his shoulders to stop from falling as my knees buckled and I tipped awkwardly to the side. I felt him laughing with his mouth on mine.
Glass Girl Page 13
