Dry Creek Daddy

by Janet Tronstad

  Since there were no customers left in the café, Hannah decided she needed a break, and she went into the kitchen. She sat in a chair before laying her head down on the table. She’d never talked to so many people in one day in her life. Good cheer just seemed to pour out of these people. It wasn’t a cloying thing, either, she thought to herself. These people really wanted to help her and Jeremy.

  A couple of minutes passed before Lois sat down beside her.

  “My feet will never be the same,” the waitress said. “I don’t know where all of these people came from.”

  “All the farms and ranches around,” Hannah said as she yawned.

  Just then the phone rang in the kitchen. A black wall phone, the instrument had been there for over a decade.

  Hannah stood up to go answer it.

  “Tell them we’re out of coffee,” Lois muttered. “Linda said we might as well close for the day. Nobody’s going to want to eat here with no coffee and no pie. We even sold the couple of pies I made for the café.”

  Hannah had a small smile on her face as she answered the phone. She never thought she’d see the day when the café ran out of their most popular beverage.

  “Hello,” Hannah said into the phone. “Dry Creek Café. Can I help you?”

  “Is Mark Nelson there?” a man’s voice asked. “This is Mr. Gaines calling back.”

  “Mr. Gaines from the bank?” Hannah asked as her shoulders straightened. She was suddenly very much awake. “I know Mark was waiting for your call. He’s probably just outside. I’ll go get him. Just hold on a minute.”

  Hannah set the phone receiver down on the cabinet and mouthed the words “Mr. Gaines” to Lois before she hurried out of the kitchen.

  Within seconds, she was standing on the porch looking for the crowd she’d seen earlier. There was no one around except for a few of the cowboys from the Elkton ranch.

  “Where’s Mark Nelson?” she asked as she ran over to them. “He has a phone call.”

  She expected them to say Mark was in the church and was almost going to turn in that direction when they answered.

  “He told me he was driving up to that rodeo in Havre,” one of the men said.

  “Told me the same,” another said. “Some time ago.”

  The third man just nodded.

  “But he can’t be,” Hannah said in disbelief. He wouldn’t have left to go watch a rodeo with the troubles they were facing.

  “Said he had some business there,” the original man said. “Said to pray for him since he’d never been so nervous over anything in his life.”

  A chill went down Hannah’s spine. “He wasn’t planning to enter that rodeo, was he?”

  None of the men offered an answer until one of them tentatively said, “I wouldn’t think so. Didn’t the doctor say he could die if he tried something like that?”

  “I thought maybe he was going to buy a horse or something,” another of the men mumbled. “If I thought he was going to ride, I would have hog-tied him and made him stay right here.”

  Hannah spun around. She didn’t have time to waste. She ran up the steps and into the kitchen of the café.

  “Mr. Gaines,” she said, breathless. “I can’t find Mark outside. Someone said they thought he might be heading up to that rodeo in Havre.”

  “Oh, he wouldn’t do that, would he?” Mr. Gaines said, clearly in distress. “I was just calling him back to say that even though the bank turned him down for a loan, I’d be willing to make him a personal loan of five thousand dollars.”

  “I need to go, Mr. Gaines,” Hannah said. “Thank you for calling.”

  “You going to Havre?” the man asked.

  “If my car will make it,” Hannah said.

  “I’ll meet you there,” he said. “And don’t worry, young lady. We’ll stop him from doing anything foolish.”

  Hannah hung up the phone and turned to Lois. “Did Mark say anything when he got off the phone with Mr. Gaines earlier?”

  She needed all the clues she could get.

  Lois shook her head. “All he did was to ask if he could make a long-distance phone call. Linda said yes and then he pulled a paper out of his pocket and dialed a number. They talked for fifteen minutes and he seemed pleased when he hung up.”

  “Pleased?” Hannah questioned.

  “Maybe more like excited,” Lois admitted. “But he didn’t say anything, he just took off. He’d already sold all of the pies by then and he’d finished his auction, so I assumed he was just going home. That was close to an hour ago.”

  “I think he’s on his way to that rodeo in Havre,” Hannah said, suddenly very determined to get there as fast as she could. “Do you think it’s okay for me to leave? I haven’t finished my shift.”

  “Like I said, Linda was thinking of closing the place for the rest of the day,” Lois said. “Just be careful driving. I know you’re worried, but don’t go too fast.”

  Hannah nodded and, with a few last words asking Lois to let Mrs. Hargrove know where she was, she left the café in a hurry and got on the road north.

  * * *

  Mark wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. It was a hot dusty day in Havre at the rodeo arena and he was nervous. If his life ever flashed before his eyes, he was certain that this arena and dozens like it would be the main backdrop.

  Today, though, he was here for Jeremy.

  “I made my first real ride here when I was fourteen,” Mark said, loud enough for the sound to go through to the recording device. He was fortunate to be the same size as Jacob Marsh, one of his wrangler friends, and he was doubly fortunate that the man had agreed to change clothes with him today. The Western shirt he now wore was made of the most expensive cotton he’d ever had on, and the snaps down its front sparkled in the sun like diamonds. In fact, knowing Jacob, there might be diamond chips in them somewhere.

  Jacob had bought one of Mark’s belt buckles this morning and was lending it to him for the day, as well. The black Stetson, with its braided leather band, was the crowning touch if one didn’t count the finely tooled black leather boots on his feet.

  “Don’t mind the dust,” the cameraman said to someone as a chute opened on their left.

  Mark turned to look. That Brahma bull making trouble there was one he knew well. The beast turned its head in the chute and pawed at the ground as a man gingerly dropped down on its back.

  “That was me when I was sixteen,” Mark continued on for the camera. He lowered his voice so the rider wouldn’t hear. “Scared me spitless, I’ll tell you that much.”

  “Why’d you do it, then?” the cameraman asked.

  “I always had to win,” he answered simply. “I thought it made me a better man to be able to do something faster and better than someone else.”

  It also made him think it caused people to love him, but he wasn’t going to say that.

  “I know better now,” he said instead.

  Just then the chute’s outer door was opened and the bull charged out into the arena. Mark thought he heard someone calling his name as the rider lifted his arm to balance his wild ride.

  “Mark.” He heard the voice louder and looked behind him. The crowd was parting for some reason.

  “Hannah?” he asked as she came barreling toward him. Her hair had fallen out of her ponytail and spun around her like golden brass. Her eyes were wide. She was breathing deep and her legs were moving fast.

  He opened his arms and she ran right into them.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, worried by now that something was happening. “Something with Jeremy?”

  Hannah shook her head, but seemed unable to speak. She kept taking big gulps of air. If he wasn’t holding her steady with his arms, he was afraid she’d pass out. He’d never seen her so distraught.

  Since it wasn’t their son causing her to be so agitated, he
didn’t know what it could be. “Something wrong with your father?”

  She shook her head.

  “It’s you,” she finally gasped.

  “Me?” he asked, dumbfounded.

  “Yes, you,” she said, her voice louder now that she seemed to have regained her breath. “You can’t ride in this rodeo. I don’t care what you think, you can’t. We just got you back. We can’t lose you again.”

  Mark felt the smile growing as his lips stretched. “So you’d miss me if I was gone?”

  “Of course,” Hannah retorted, her eyes flashing at him.

  Mark tightened his arms until she was comfortably close to his chest. “I’d miss you, too.” He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “I happen to love you, Hannah Stelling.”

  He felt a little contented sigh, and then Hannah seemed to remember something because she reared back far enough to look him in the eyes. “Well, then, what are you doing here?”

  “I’m doing the first part of a media package for the tabloid folks that want my story,” Mark said. “Since they already had a stringer up here today for the rodeo, we’re getting some footage shot for ads and such.”

  “You’re talking about your coma?” Hannah asked in astonishment.

  Mark nodded.

  “If they make me out to be an oddity,” he said, “I’ll just live with it. I have more important things in my life now than my pride.”

  At that point, the cameraman called out, “Introduce us to the lady. What part does she play in the story?”

  “She’s the love of my life,” Mark answered. It took all his courage to look down at Hannah staring up at him a riot of emotions flooding her face.

  “You getting married?” the cameraman called out again. “Viewers want to know.”

  Mark turned his back to the camera with Hannah still in his arms. Some things were private.

  “I plan to ask you, but you don’t have to say anything right now,” he rushed to assure Hannah. “I know this is a little public and you like your privacy. And you probably don’t want to think about anything until Jeremy is settled and—”

  Hannah put her fingers to his lips. “Yes.”

  “Yes?” he asked in surprise.

  Hannah nodded, a smile growing on her face. “Yes.”

  Mark spun them around. “The answer is yes. She’s going to marry me.”

  He hadn’t noticed, but by that time a small crowd had gathered. People still knew the name Mark Nelson when they went to a rodeo. And then he saw Mr. Gaines from the bank.

  “She’s going to marry me,” he called out to the banker just in case he hadn’t been able to hear in all the noise of the rodeo.

  The camera continued to roll and Mark realized he hadn’t even been able to tell Hannah that he had a cashier’s check in his pocket for twenty thousand dollars. It seemed that the tabloid company not only had money, they knew how to use it and could get it to someone faster than he ever thought possible.

  As the rodeo announcer blared out the results of the last ride, Mark signaled the cameraman that he wanted a few minutes alone with Hannah. The man grinned and turned the crowd toward the rodeo winner.

  Mark led Hannah behind the bleachers and turned her to face him.

  “You really are okay with this?” he asked. “It’s not how I intended to propose.”

  Hannah shrugged. “We’ll have a story to tell Jeremy.”

  “And our other kids,” Mark added with a grin. “Although I still intend to take you out for a romantic candlelight dinner. Just as soon as—”

  He didn’t finish, but then, he didn’t need to. They both knew Jeremy’s health was the only missing piece in their happiness. Hannah closed her eyes as she leaned against his chest and he put his arms around her.

  “We can only trust in God,” he said as he held her.

  He felt her nod and he felt peace.

  “Be with us,” he prayed. “And our son.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mark took his cashier’s check into the doctor’s office on Monday morning and, after a quick trip to Mark’s bank, they scheduled Jeremy’s procedure for two days later. Hannah kept working at the café and Mark took those two days to work on repairing her small house. He wanted Jeremy to come home to a bright, clean place. Randy helped Mark both days and they got almost everything done. The walls inside were now all yellow or white. The linoleum had been replaced. Allie had made white eyelet curtains for the windows. There were some leftover blue tiles from Allie’s new kitchen, enough to line the counters in Hannah’s kitchen, as well.

  Wednesday morning was overcast, and Mark was at Hannah’s door by seven o’clock. She had a bag of Jeremy’s things packed, and they bundled the still-sleeping boy into the back seat of the car. Hannah sat in the rear to hold him in his car seat.

  They didn’t talk much as the road sped by. Mark prayed as he drove and he could hear Hannah doing the same thing in the back. They didn’t want to disturb Jeremy so they kept their voices low. The boy was increasingly frail and pale. Mark wondered if Jeremy would have the strength for any procedure.

  By the time they arrived at the cancer center, their nerves were all stretched thin. The staff there was expecting them, and the three of them were shown to a room where they would wait for the doctor.

  “They’ll be ready for Jeremy soon,” a nurse informed them before she left. Mark could hear the woman’s footsteps as she walked down the hall.

  Mark looked at Hannah as she cuddled Jeremy to her. The brightness of her hair against their son’s face made the boy’s skin look even whiter. Mark wished he could press more life into both of them. These two people held his heart and it was breaking.

  “Time to go,” the nurse came back to the door and announced.

  Mark and Hannah both stood up.

  “Only one of you can go with Jeremy,” the nurse said crisply.

  “But—” Both Mark and Hannah protested as one.

  “Doctor’s orders,” the woman said, looking determined.

  “Well, I—” Hannah started to say something as she looked at Mark.

  He smiled. “No, you should go.” He would be fine. She was their son’s mother.

  “If you’re sure,” Hannah said.

  Mark nodded. “I’ll stay here and pray.”

  “Thank you,” Hannah murmured and bent down to look Jeremy in the eyes.

  “Do you want your comics?” she asked as she rummaged through the bag she’d brought. She pulled out two of the colorful books and held them out to the boy.

  Jeremy looked at them for a bit and then shook his head. “I don’t need them anymore.”

  He held out a small hand to Mark and added, “I have my dad to take care of the bad guys.”

  Mark bowed his head in humility as he took the small hand. He’d never won any prize that compared with having his son choose him over a comic book. He smiled slightly, knowing his friends would think he’d lost it again.

  “I’ll be protecting you from here,” Mark said to his son. “Your mother’s going with you.”

  “No,” Hannah said as she stood up. She looked at Mark. “Go with him. He needs you.”

  “One of you needs to decide,” the nurse said. “The doctor is waiting.”

  “You go,” Hannah repeated.

  “Are you sure?” Mark asked.

  “Positively,” she answered. Then she smiled as he and Jeremy walked out of the room.

  * * *

  Hannah watched the door close, tears by now streaming down her face. This small room was square with flat-back chairs lining the beige walls. There were no pictures, nothing to distract her from the fact that the two people she held most dear had just left, hoping to make Jeremy well.

  “Please, God,” she said as she sat down in one of the chairs to wait. Her prayers were not complicate
d these days. God knew what she was coming to Him for. She wanted her son to be well.

  Then a smile touched her face. Jeremy had been brave to take his father’s hand and leave his comic heroes behind. Mark had told her what those figures meant to her son, and she was proud of the little one for relying on his dad to help him.

  She realized once again with a start that she trusted Mark completely. She had no doubt that he would protect Jeremy with every breath in his body. More than that, she trusted him with her heart. He would not leave. He would not betray them. He would keep them always.

  Maybe she would not have to worry about ending up like her adoptive father, after all, she thought. Forgiveness, she figured, was the first step to trusting again. And Mark had said something about painting the living room in her father’s house when he finished with her house. She hoped her father would look at that and learn to forgive the Nelson family.

  Hannah refused to watch the clock. She didn’t know how long the procedure was going to take and she didn’t want the doctor to rush anything. She was surprised when the door opened until she saw who stepped inside: it was Allie Nelson, Mrs. Hargrove, Randy Collins, her adoptive father and—she had to look twice—Mark’s father.

  “We came in the Nelsons’ old van,” Mrs. Hargrove announced as she walked into the room. “We brought a mattress for the back in case Jeremy wants to lie down and rest on the way home.”

  “That’s most considerate,” Hannah murmured, overcome with emotion. When she added Mark and Jeremy to the group, this was her family. Right here. She had found her home, all right.

  Her father stomped across the room and sat in one of the chairs. Mr. Nelson followed behind him, saying something about the new combines on sale in Miles City. Then he sat down next to her father.

  The two men were arguing about the merits of different brands of farm equipment, but she didn’t detect any deeper animosity.

  Her father must have noticed her looking at him, because he turned to her. “Well, they invited me. Jeremy’s my grandson, too, you know. I could hardly refuse.”