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Cross My Heart

Page 12

by Robin Lee Hatcher


  Announcements were sent out to the media, and one of them resulted in an interview with the local newspaper. The article appeared the day before the open house. Still, even with the nice write-up and the colored photographs in the paper, Ben hadn’t expected the turnout to be as big as it was. People came from as far away as Ontario in the west to Mountain Home in the east. Thankfully, they had enough volunteers to show off the place and sign up supporters. Ashley spent all of her time that day introducing the horses to curious visitors. Emily Cooper and Larry Dennis were on hand to answer questions about equine therapy.

  A couple members of Ben’s men’s group had made a beautiful sign. Balloons—courtesy of Ben’s grandfather—were tied to the new sign as well as to the porch railing of the house, the doors of the barn, and the still-empty chicken coop. To top it off, they were blessed with perfect weather—lots of sunshine with temperatures in the low seventies.

  The crowd of visitors had dwindled to only a few stragglers by the time Ben found his grandfather sitting on the porch, a glass of water in one hand.

  “A grand day,” Grandpa said.

  “I’d say so.” Ben sank onto the chair next to him.

  “Do you know how much was raised?”

  “No. I thought I’d leave that to others. I didn’t want money to be my focus today. I just wanted to share my vision for the Harmony Barn. Help people know the good we want to do here.”

  Grandpa chuckled. “Admirable motive, but I’m afraid a nonprofit like this one will require you to focus on funds more often than not.”

  “Yeah. I know you’re right.”

  Ben looked toward the paddocks and watched as Ashley put feed into a hay box. He hadn’t said more than a half dozen words to her today. They’d both been too busy. He would like to talk to her now, to thank her for all of her help.

  “Go ahead,” Grandpa said. “I’m going to sit here and enjoy the quiet.”

  Before Ben left the porch, a car pulled into the drive. Rather than head for the paddock, he walked in the direction of the newcomer. He hated to turn anybody away, but the event was over. Even the volunteers had started to go home.

  He was halfway there when the driver, a woman, got out of the car. She closed the door and turned, and Ben’s heart stuttered in his chest.

  “Mrs. Foster?” He took a breath before continuing toward her.

  “Hello, Ben.”

  He hadn’t seen Craig’s mother in close to a decade. Her face was more careworn. Her hair had more gray in it. But she still looked like the woman who had welcomed him into her home for so many years. Right up until he’d put her son into a wheelchair. After that, she hadn’t been as welcoming.

  “I saw the article in the paper,” she said.

  “I’m afraid you missed everything.”

  “That isn’t why I came.”

  A knot formed in his stomach.

  “I’m glad you’re doing well, Ben.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Is this place about Craig?” To his surprise, she asked the question without rancor, and he sensed she’d made peace with the past. He wished he could claim the same.

  “Mrs. Foster, it would mean the world to me if Craig could be helped by what we plan to do here. I won’t lie about that.”

  “He won’t come.”

  “Maybe not. But we’ll be here if he changes his mind.”

  “He said you tried to talk to him.”

  “Several times. I wanted to tell him what equine therapy did for me.”

  “He wouldn’t listen.”

  “No. Did he see the article?”

  “I don’t know. We don’t talk often. He has his own place, his own work.”

  “Mrs. Foster, if I could undo what happened, if it could’ve been me instead . . .” He let the words fade into silence.

  She drew in a slow breath. “Ben, I was wrong to place all the blame on you at the time of the accident, and Craig is wrong to place all the blame on you still. I should have let you know that long ago. You and Craig made a very foolish choice that night. You’ve both paid for it in different ways.” She gave him a sad smile. “I think you’ve both paid enough. Don’t you?” Her gaze swept over the farm. “I hope this place succeeds. And if I can, I’ll try to make him change his mind.”

  Ben’s throat was thick with emotion, but he managed to say, “Thanks.”

  With a nod and a quick squeeze to his arm, she got into her car and started the engine. Ben wasn’t sure what he felt as he watched her drive away. He wanted her words to release him from the last of his guilt. He was sure that was what she’d wanted too. God help him. He wished it had worked.

  * * *

  Trent McGrath, the senior pastor of Ben’s church, looked up as Ashley walked toward the barn. His grin told her all she needed to know.

  “It was a success?” she asked anyway.

  “An enormous one.” He straightened the stack of paper on the table that had been set up on the sunny side of the barn. “Between pledges and one-time donations, the Harmony Barn is starting off with a bang.”

  “Does Ben know the results?”

  “Not yet, but he’s about to.” Trent tipped his head, indicating she should look to her left.

  She turned as Ben drew near. He didn’t look as happy as she’d expected him to after the number of people who’d turned up at the farm today. Even without knowing the financial result, he should have been pleased.

  Trent rose from the chair. He took the top two pieces of paper from the stack and held them toward Ben. “Here’s what we took in today in cash and checks. And this one has the list of pledges for the coming year.”

  Ben took the proffered papers. His eyes scanned them—once, then again—and his expression changed. Not to happiness but to utter shock.

  Ashley couldn’t help but laugh.

  “This is unbelievable,” he said at last. “Are you sure?”

  Trent laughed too. “I’m sure. The donations came in all sizes. One of them was a bunch of quarters from a little girl’s piggybank that she opened right in front of me. There’s also a sizable cashier’s check in the cash box. The donor wished to remain anonymous.”

  “I never imagined this.”

  “I confess I was rather surprised myself. Shouldn’t be. We can’t outgive God.”

  “Another open door,” Ben said softly, his eyes once again on the papers in his hands.

  Trent lifted the cash box onto the table. “It’s time for me to get home. I’m turning over my fiduciary responsibility to you. Plan on a trip to the bank on Monday.”

  “I appreciate your help, Trent.”

  “Ben, it was a blessing to be a part of this. It truly was. See you tomorrow.” The pastor said goodbye to Ashley, then walked to where he’d parked his car earlier in the day.

  “Ashley,” Ben said, drawing her attention back to him. “Do you know what this means?”

  “I’d say it means you’re off to a great start.”

  He set the papers on the table before staring off in the direction of the alfalfa fields. She could tell he was envisioning something that wasn’t there, something that she couldn’t see but wished she could.

  “I need a barn manager,” he said, looking at her again.

  “A barn manager?”

  “Yes, someone to look after the horses that are here. Someone to find other horses that need to be here. It’s a bigger job than I can handle, and with these donations and pledges, I can afford to hire somebody.” He took a step closer. “How about it? Will you?”

  “Will I—What are you talking about?”

  “I need a barn manager,” he repeated himself. “You need a place to house more rescue horses and the time to tend to them. You’d be helping me and doing the work you love. Will you be my barn manager?”

  Her heart began to race. “Do you mean a paid position?”

  He nodded. “Yes. It wouldn’t be a huge salary, but I’ll bet we could manage to match whatever you make now and get you some healt
h coverage. And if you aren’t sure about quitting altogether, maybe you could go part-time at the store and part-time here.” He watched her face, obviously trying to gauge her reaction.

  She almost couldn’t breathe. From the moment she’d first visited this farm, she’d felt as if she belonged here. She’d captured the vision Ben had for the Harmony Barn from day one. Now he wanted her to be a more permanent part of it.

  “Come to work for the Harmony Barn, Ashley. You won’t regret it.”

  Passion filled his eyes. A passion for making the Harmony Barn all that he wanted it to be. A passion for helping others. A passion for doing what God had called him to do. A passion she found hard to resist.

  “Come on.” His eyes pleaded with her. “Say yes.”

  How could she refuse him when he was offering to make her own dreams come true? More room for rescues. More time to be with the horses, to work with the horses. Perhaps there were reasons—good reasons—for her to refuse, but she couldn’t think of a single one. “All right,” she answered softly. “I’ll do it.”

  Relief burst across his face, followed instantly by that appealing grin of his. “Great. When can you start?”

  She matched his smile with one of her own. “I’ll have to give the store two weeks’ notice.”

  He pulled out his phone and opened to the calendar app. She watched him as he typed something. “How about you start on Monday, October 14?” He looked over his shoulder toward the paddocks. “You can leave those two rescue horses here. I can tend to them until you start.”

  “Thanks.”

  “If you’ve got time to spare, could you stay awhile and help me map out some changes I want to get started on right away? Stuff I thought would have to wait. Chances are I can get quite a bit of volunteer labor from guys at church to help with the construction. But I think you’ll know what I need to ask for more than I would.”

  “Sure. I’ve got the time.”

  There was that grin again, and it sent her heart racing a second time. Only for a different reason. One she wasn’t yet ready to examine.

  Wednesday, September 15, 1943

  Helen found Andrew near the chicken coop, replacing some of the wire. “Honey, we have a letter from Ben!”

  He immediately dropped his hammer and came to meet her. Letters never came often enough. The wait seemed even more interminable after a major offensive. Less than two weeks earlier, the Allies had invaded Italy. American bombers had played a part in the invasion, of course, which made it difficult for them not to wonder if Ben was all right.

  Helen held out the V-Mail. “You read it. Read it aloud.”

  Without looking, he knew the letter had to have been written prior to the latest offensive. Hearing from Ben now wasn’t any guarantee that he was fine. But Andrew kept that thought to himself. It was better to hope than to fear. He opened the letter and read it to Helen, as requested.

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  I hope this letter finds you both well. Tell my brothers and sisters that I’d love to get letters from each one of them. Even as much as you two write to me, it never feels like I get enough news from home.

  I’m based in England for now. Can’t tell you where exactly. My posting could change at any time. It all depends upon what happens next on the Continent. Even if I knew, I couldn’t tell you where I’ll be going. I suppose you know as much as I do a lot of the time. The generals and admirals don’t ask the opinions of those of us in the ranks. They make the decisions, and we obey. Mostly that’s okay by me. But sometimes it rankles a bit. You know the way I am. Sometimes I pull against the reins, like old Belle used to do when she was sick and tired of us kids riding her. Remember?

  When I’m not flying, I spend a lot of time thinking about all of you and the farm. Sometimes I wish I could walk into a pasture and throw my leg over a horse and ride like crazy across a green field. No bridle. No saddle. Just letting the horse take me where it wants.

  It’s real pretty here where I am. Different from the farm. They get more rain in England than we get in Idaho. Lots more rain. And it doesn’t get as hot as it can get at home. But like I said, it’s pretty. We’re not near a woods. The landing fields have to be flat and open. But they’ve got them here. Again, different from the forests in the mountains of Idaho. Not as rocky or arid as ours. I remember Mom telling us the stories of Robin Hood when we were younger, and sometimes I find myself waiting for a glimpse of some guy dressed in forest green, carrying a bow and quiver of arrows. Good thing I don’t tell the guys that. I’d never live it down.

  Listening to the other men when we’re all lying around the barracks, I’ve learned how lucky I am to have you for my parents and for the kind of childhood you gave us. Some of these guys come from really lousy places. Dads who are drunks. Moms who don’t care what the kids do. One guy eats like the food’s going to disappear before he can fill his hollow leg. He never had enough to eat at home when he was a kid. He doesn’t care what he finds in the mess. He’s ready to eat it just for the sake of being full.

  Thanks for the Bible you gave me before I left home. I’m reading it lots and finding comfort in it. Some of the guys here don’t ever think about God, don’t ever think about where they’ll go if their plane goes down and they die. I’m not very good about sharing what I believe, but I’m trying to be better about it. Again, without you being examples to me and teaching me, I’d be as lost and afraid as so many others.

  It’s about time for lights out. I’ll end this letter so I can mail it tomorrow. Give my love to everybody, including Mr. and Mrs. Finkel. Tell Mr. Finkel that I hope to be leaving Hitler a calling card before the year is out.

  Your son,

  Ben

  “He’s all right,” Helen said on a breath.

  “He’s all right.” Andrew folded the letter and offered it back to her.

  She took it, pressing it to her breast. “I knew it would be hard,” she said in a whisper. “But I never knew it would be this hard.”

  Sensing she was close to tears—and feeling a lump forming in his own throat—Andrew drew her into his embrace. They stood that way, in silence, for a long, long time.

  Chapter 16

  After Ben’s grandfather and the last of the volunteers left, Ashley followed Ben around the farm once again, seeing it all through his eyes. Not that she hadn’t understood what he planned to do, but she hadn’t captured his full vision for the place until today.

  “If we left those acres for growing hay”—he motioned with his arm—“we’d have enough, even more than enough, to feed the horses we’ll keep year round. I figure we can handle at least fifteen horses. Maybe as many as twenty. But that’ll be up to you as barn manager. We’ll create more paddocks over there.” He motioned in a second direction. “We can have that indoor arena now instead of later. It doesn’t have to be as large as the outdoor arena. We’ll put it there.” He pointed again.

  She wondered if he realized he’d said “we” and “our”—as if she were an equal partner rather than the newly hired barn manager. An equal partner or . . . or something else.

  Do I want it to be something else between us? Her pulse quickened, and her stomach tumbled. Do I want him to mean something else? Perhaps she did, even though she knew she shouldn’t. Should I?

  “Sorry.” He tried to wipe the smile from his face but failed. “I’m a little giddy. That’s what Grandma called it. Everything I wanted and imagined is falling into place. It’s hard to take in.”

  “I feel a little giddy myself, listening to you. Maybe we should pinch each other to make sure we aren’t dreaming.”

  They laughed in unison. Her stomach tumbled a second time, and she found it difficult to breathe. When her phone vibrated in the pocket of her jeans, she almost ignored it, wanting to keep laughing with Ben, wanting to keep smiling at each other, wanting to keep feeling breathless and giddy. But common sense returned, and she looked to see who was calling. Rather than a phone call, it was a text message.

&nb
sp; Mom: Dylan missing from rehab. Police looking for him now.

  Her gut tightened, and the happiness of the day evaporated. “Dylan, you idiot,” she whispered.

  “Ashley?”

  She looked up. Ben’s smile was gone, too, and he watched her with concerned eyes.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s my brother. He . . . He’s in trouble.”

  Ben didn’t ask what kind of trouble, and Ashley appreciated it. She didn’t want to explain.

  “Do you need to go?”

  “I’d better. My mom’s worried.”

  “Sure. Go. We’ll have lots of time to lay out the plans. But let me know you’re okay.” He hesitated only a moment before adding, “And Ashley, I’m here if you need me.”

  His words brought tears to her eyes. “Thanks.” She hurried to the truck and got into the cab. Before turning the key in the ignition, she replied to her mom’s text.

  Ashley: On my way to your house. Be there fast as possible.

  She dropped her phone into the console. When she looked up, she saw Ben standing near the front porch of the house, watching her. Their gazes met, and he lifted his hand. She felt his caring, even at a distance. Tears came again, and she blinked them away before pulling out of his barnyard.

  * * *

  Ben waited until the dust caused by Ashley’s departure settled back onto the driveway. Only then did he turn on his heel and go into the house. He was concerned for her, of course, but at the same time he was disappointed for himself. He’d hoped to have her company for another hour or two. He’d hoped she might even stay for dinner. They both deserved time to relax after such a hectic day.

  “The books,” he muttered when he saw them on his kitchen table. He’d meant to share a couple of books with Ashley. Then again, she might not have any time to read if her brother was in trouble.

  He frowned, wondering what that meant. What sort of trouble? Injured? Sick? Something else? Whatever it was, the news had rattled Ashley. The color had drained from her face as she’d read the message on her phone.

 

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