Big Sky Family. Charlotte Carter
school, Ellie drove the ten miles to Manhattan. She made the arrangements for the buttons to be ready in time for the meeting, then decided to stop on the way home to say hello to Mindy at her shop in Potter Creek.
“How come we’re going to a knitting store?” Torie asked.
“A friend of mine works there. I want to say hello to her and have her meet you.” Ellie checked the rearview mirror and eased out of her parking spot. “Does she have any kids I can play with?”
“I’m afraid not.” Reversing direction, she drove out of the parking lot and turned west, toward the center of Potter Creek. The small town served a population of maybe five thousand people in the surrounding area. For any major shopping excursion, the locals drove to Manhattan, or all the way to Bozeman. “Maybe she’ll have some yarn crafts you’d like to make.”
“Are you going to buy some yarn to make me something?”
“I might. You could use a new sweater for fall.” Main Street looked much like it always had: grocery, hardware and drugstore on one side of the street; a diner, real estate and newspaper offices on the opposite side. At the far end of town, a brick building served as city hall and was adjacent to the popular public swimming pool. A stark contrast to downtown Spokane or even to the suburbs of that sprawling, big city with its traffic congestion and the press of a growing population.
To its advantage, however, Potter Creek was a size that a person could get her brain wrapped around, a comfortable, friendly place to live. Schoolkids rode their bikes on Main Street, and neighbors caught up with local news while lingering in front of the grocery store.
Home, Ellie thought. She’d stayed away too long.
She pulled up in front of Aunt Martha’s Knitting and Notions. The front window featured posters of class offerings and autumn specials on wool yarn. A cute knitted vest adorned a clear-plastic mannequin.
“We’re here,” Ellie announced. “Out you go.”
Dozens of memories flooded Ellie. Aunt Martha teaching her to knit, despite Ellie’s initial lack of enthusiasm. Making friends with Mindy, dragging her into attempting new things, like floating down the river on a homemade wooden raft. When the raft fell apart, they both nearly drowned. The ever-responsible Arnie had to rescue them.
A frown tugged at her forehead. The reckless driving accident with his brother behind the wheel had stolen so much from Arnie, not just the use of his legs, but his self-image, as well. Adjusting to his new circumstances had to have been difficult.
Guilt tightened a knot in her stomach. You should have stayed to help him, she thought.
Holding Torie’s hand, Ellie stepped inside the small knitting shop, setting off tiny wind chimes above the door.
“Oh, my …” she murmured. Over the years the shop had been upgraded and was chock-full of merchandise. In addition to bins of all types of yarn, one whole corner area displayed needle-craft samples and bins of thread in every color imaginable.
Mindy appeared from a back room. “Ellie? It’s you, isn’t it!” Arms open wide, she rushed forward to embrace Ellie. “Oh, my goodness. Daniel said you were back in town, but I wasn’t home when you came to the ranch and I missed seeing you at church. I’m so glad you dropped by.”
“I had to check out my old haunts, right?” One of those smiles that comes from the heart and lightens your spirits lifted Ellie’s lips. “I can’t believe the changes you’ve made to the shop. And by the way, I understand double congratulations are in order, Mrs. O’Brien, on your marriage and your pregnancy.”
A quick flush colored Mindy’s cheeks as she laughed. With her blond hair and fair complexion, blushing had once been the bane of her existence, particularly when Daniel had flirted with her.
“And this must be your daughter Daniel was telling me about,” Mindy said. “I understand she wants a horse of her own.”
“I’m afraid that’s not in our immediate future. Victoria, say hello to Mrs. O’Brien.”
“Hello.” Torie shook hands with Mindy. “Do you like horses, too?”
“I certainly do. My husband raises some of the finest quarter horses in the whole state.”
Torie put on her most serious expression. “Maybe someday my mommy could buy a horse from you.”
Ellie hooked her arm around her daughter’s shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “I’m afraid Torie’s a bit fixated on horses these days.”
“Most kids around here are.”
“I told Torie you might have some craft projects suitable for her.”
Mindy brightened. “I do. I’ll be getting more in before Christmas, but come see what I have now.” She took Torie’s hand and walked her to the back of the shop.
Ellie followed. When she was living in Spokane, working full-time as a waitress and taking as many college classes as she could manage, plus caring for Torie, it had been hard to make friends.
Coming back to Potter Creek meant she’d have more time and have the chance to renew old friendships. Perhaps that was what coming home was all about.
“Do you run the shop all by yourself?” Ellie asked.
“Mostly. Sometimes Aunt Martha fills in for an afternoon or two to give me a break, and I have Ivy from the diner stand in for me occasionally.”
Ellie frowned. “How are you going to handle things after the baby arrives?”
She smiled brightly. “Oh, I may close down for a few weeks. Then I’ll bring him or her along with me. That should work for the first year or so.”
“Watch out for those toddler years,” Ellie warned, thinking her friend might not fully realize what an energy drain a child could be. “There’s no keeping them corralled in a playpen then.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Mindy conceded.
While Ellie and Mindy caught up with their respective lives Torie searched through the assortment of craft possibilities.
“So, um, where’s Torie’s father?” Mindy asked.
“I haven’t a clue. Apparently, being a father wasn’t on his to -do list.” Jake Radigan hadn’t been a college student, but he’d hung out with some of the guys, showing off his motorcycle, revving the engine. Apparently he was a good mechanic, because he kept his friends’ junker cars running, working out of a garage behind his rental house.
His “wild side” had attracted Ellie, she supposed. His lack of roots.
That same lack of roots meant that he rode off into the sunset on his bike virtually the moment he learned Ellie was pregnant.
In retrospect, that was probably for the best.
Torie returned from her search in the back of the shop with an “Old Woman in a Shoe” craft that she could lace with red yarn and hang on her bedroom wall.
“I found some yarn that would make a pretty sweater for me,” Torie announced.
“Well, then, let’s take a look.” Ellie followed her daughter to a wall filled with bins of yarn. Mindy joined them.
Torie held up a skein of emerald-green sport-weight yarn. “The green goes with my eyes.”
“Yes, it does, sweetie,” Mindy announced.
Ellie thought so, too. The pale green eyes were the only trace of Torie’s father she saw in her daughter.
“All right, honey. We’ll have to pick out a pattern you like.” During the evenings, sitting with her mother, watching TV, would be a good time to knit.
After pouring over pattern books and making a selection, Ellie was paying for their purchases when Mindy said, “You’ll