Sleigh Bells for Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad
Still, as angry as she was, she didn’t want to broadcast her discontent. She didn’t need anyone to see how discouraged she was and start a rumor that something was wrong with her. Shawn would be sure to throw in his two cents if he heard about it. Pride was all she had left, and she couldn’t bear to look pathetic to people who’d known her since she was a child. So, it wouldn’t hurt to stand still for a minute, until her face settled back into more peaceful lines.
“I’ve got a job for you.” A woman’s husky voice whispered behind her.
Amy almost recognized the voice, but she had to be wrong. She’d had this happen before in places far more public than the café. She’d hear one of the Stone family members, or so she’d think, and she’d be excited until she turned to face the person. Instead, it would be some stranger, and her heart would plummet. Usually, it was Wade who tripped her up, but his mother weighed on her heart, too.
She prepared herself for disappointment, but she turned around anyway, and there, in the open doorway, stood the one woman she wanted to see more than any other in the world—Gracie Stone.
“Oh, my,” Amy whispered in surprise. The years rolled away, and she remembered how as a girl she’d run across the fields to the Stone house and Gracie would be waiting with a hug and a warm cookie for her. Gracie had been as much a mother to her as her aunt had ever been—maybe more.
Amy smiled. “I didn’t know you were back.”
Another shadow fell across the doorway, but Amy didn’t have time for anyone else. Not when God was finally blessing her today by bringing back Gracie. She scarcely knew what to say, so she stood there grinning for a moment. “Are you staying at your ranch? I know it needs a lot of work, but—please say you’re staying.”
As much as she wanted to avoid any mention of Wade, she wanted to be near Gracie. God had known what she needed, after all.
“That’s why I want to hire you,” the other woman said, putting out her words one at a time as though she wasn’t used to speaking. “I got here a couple of days ago and the house needs work. Mostly cleaning out the old cupboards. Washing things down. Maybe painting some walls.”
“A couple of days ago? And you haven’t stopped by?” Amy took a breath. She was surprised she hadn’t noticed any lights in the old house. “Of course, I’ll help.” She felt herself relax. Now that Gracie was back, everything would be all right. “Aunt Tilly will be so happy to see you.”
Finally, life would be what it was supposed to be.
The shadow in the doorway moved again. This time, Amy had to look. It was a man; she could see that from the shape of the Stetson on his head and the black silhouette he made against the grayness of the morning. If there were more bulbs in those light sockets on the porch, she might be able to see who it was.
Then he shifted slightly, and something about the nervous action reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t remember who. Gracie was still talking.
“I was surprised Tilly never wrote to me when I was in—when I was away.” Gracie finished what she was saying, her words halting. The questions in her eyes were directed at Amy. “I got letters from Mrs. Hargrove—she had a soft spot for me and the boys even before everything happened—but none from Tilly. I was worried about her.”
“I’m sure my aunt meant to write. She hasn’t been well, but I’m sure she would have written if she could.”
Everything was silent for a moment, and Amy let herself remember. She hadn’t realized it until now, but her aunt hadn’t even mentioned the Stones after Gracie went away to prison. Amy had thought her aunt was just being sensitive to her heartbreak over Wade, but maybe it had been more than that. It was near that time her grandfather’s dementia had started. Maybe her aunt was preoccupied with that. On several mornings, she had been pale and shaken after being up with him, unwilling to even talk about the night.
Gracie turned slightly, and the man in the shadows stepped forward. Amy gasped and then felt the blood drain from her face. She should have figured it out sooner. It was Wade Stone, taller and bigger than she remembered, but definitely him.
“Don’t bother your aunt about us.” His voice was flat. Under his hat, his black hair was long enough to touch the collar of his denim shirt. The shirt itself had been washed so many times that spots here and there had become faded, especially the tips of the collar, which lay open enough to show a white T-shirt underneath.
Amy had imagined this moment a thousand times after Wade had left without saying goodbye. At first, she had believed that the lack of a farewell was a wordless message to her that he was coming back for her. After all, he had kissed her in the moonlight outside of the church. He had said he would marry her and, even though she was only fifteen, she knew how the fairy tale went. She’d prayed earnestly and had been prepared to run away with him when he asked. He was her destiny.
Waiting for Wade to return, she’d turned down date after date in high school. She’d only gone to the prom because her aunt had bought her a dress that couldn’t be returned and insisted she go. And then, by chance, Amy had read a news article in the Billings Time, telling all about the rodeo competitions Wade had won. Some woman with a glittery cowboy hat was kissing him as she gave him a tall, golden trophy. He had the crooked smile on his face that Amy knew so well, and he didn’t look like he was missing her one little bit. He’d even been in Billings, so he wasn’t far away; he could have come to see her. That’s when she’d told God to ignore her prayers. She was tired of begging for a fantasy that was never going to come true, with a man who just didn’t seem to care.
“Wade Stone,” she finally found her voice enough to say with suitable coolness. “You’re looking well. You must have recovered from your accident.”
The one good thing about this morning was that Shawn’s words had let her know Wade hadn’t come back to Dry Creek because of any lingering affection for her. Even at this point in time, she might have grasped at the hope that he had and she would have felt foolish to be proven wrong, even if no one else had known her thoughts.
“I’m all right,” he said gruffly.
His hat, a gray Stetson, hid the top part of his face, but she didn’t need to see his familiar brown eyes to know he had changed. When she had known him, he was gangly and not yet a man. There was nothing boyish about him as he stood before her now though. His broad shoulders were squared. He looked powerful and a little wary, like a dog standing guard over some bone he’d just found. His legs were widely spaced, and his wool jacket open, a flashy, silver belt buckle with a rodeo scene all too visible. That must be one of his trophy belts.
“Good.” She gave him a curt nod and forced herself to turn her attention to Gracie. “You have a job?”
She no sooner said the words than she realized she couldn’t work for Wade’s mother. Not if she wanted to avoid the pity of the gossips. She’d told Shawn more than she should have over the years, and he might not have told everyone about her crush on the man yet, but that didn’t mean he’d keep silent if she went to work for the Stone family.
“I’m sorry,” Wade murmured, his voice low and tense. She turned to him. For a second, it felt like all of the air rushed out of her. She suddenly wondered—was he really sorry? Was he going to apologize? For leaving her? For not coming back? Was God going to finally answer her prayers? Then Wade continued. “My mother shouldn’t have offered you the job. It’s a lot of work—hard physical work—and it’s just not for you. You’d get dirty.”
His face was weathered. A shadow of whiskers showed he hadn’t shaved this morning, and his jaw was tense. When he stopped talking, his lips pressed too tightly together. He looked like something was bothering him, and he was ready to explode.
“I clean out barns,” she finally said. He must not have heard that her family had gone through most of their money; after years of doctors’ bills, they were no longer able to afford hired help of any kind for the ranch. If she didn’t do it, it didn’t