by Lois Richer
“You broke it! We don’t need a wrecking crew here, knothead!” Slim picked up the pieces and handed them to Grady. “Maybe you didn’t get it. We’re aiming to fix the thing, not bust it up.”
“Sometimes you gotta break eggs to make an omelet,” Buster announced, twisting his head this way and that. “Now this here’s your problem. I might have one of these at the shop but I can’t get it right now.” He dusted his hands on his overalls and picked up his tool kit.
“Why not? You got a hot date or sumthin’?” Slim snickered. Grady saw the other man’s barrel chest puff out and contented himself with watching this confrontation.
“You really are a silly old fool,” Buster said, affectionately slapping Slim’s thin shoulder. “The social’s on tonight. Right after the chuck wagon races. I ain’t aiming to miss that.” He stomped out the door and lunged into his truck. “That guy with the real loud voice is singin’ at the bandstand later, too. My wife’s determined I gotta hear that.” He shook his head mournfully. “I can’t abide loud music.”
Grady watched Slim’s head snap back. The other man’s face tightened, eyes wide as if lightning had struck. “Almost forgot.” Slim handed Grady his wrench and stalked across the yard. “I’ll have to do this later, son. I’ve never missed a chuck wagon race yet, and I ain’t starting now.”
They were both in their trucks, motors running, before Grady woke up. “Wait a minute,” he called. “What races? Where?” He saw the pitiful looks they cast his way before Slim glanced across at Buster and shrugged.
“You better tell him, Buster. No sense in him missing all the fun.” With a chuckle, Slim drove off down the driveway.
“It’s the local fair,” Buster said, wedging himself in behind the wheel of his truck. “Not the Calgary Stampede by any means, but our own little production. Since it’s near the end of the season, we get a lot of the fellows from the chuck wagon and chariot circuits stopping off. Makes for some interesting races.”
Grady was well acquainted with Calgary’s annual event. Visitors from around the world had been coming for years to see professional riders rope calves and ride broncos. The prizes for most Stampede events were worth a lot. But he was interested in watching the way a small town like Willow Bunch handled such an event. Besides, it would get him away from the farm and his own morose thoughts.
“Where is it held?” He scribbled down Buster’s directions and waved the big man down the driveway, wincing as Buster’s souped-up engine roared away.
The fairgrounds were smack-dab in the middle of town, surrounded by tall, wavering spruce trees that were supposed to protect the residents from the noise of horns blowing and hooves digging into the watered-down dirt. If there were any residents at home, that was.
Grady could hardly imagine that any one of the five thousand residents of Willow Bunch had stayed away. They were jam-packed on the stands around him, avidly watching a tractor pull a huge load of cattle feed across a chalk line. The winner got to keep the feed.
“Come on, Travis! Put your foot down!” The tiny blonde behind him had a voice suitable for one of Maggie’s opera singers, Grady decided, and then wished he hadn’t thought of Maggie again.
“May I sit beside you, Mr. O’Toole?” Minnie Hugenot plopped down on the bench and offered him a French fry. “It’s pretty warm, isn’t it?” She glanced around him curiously. “Where’s Maggie?”
It was the fifth time someone had asked him that in the last ten minutes, and Grady forcibly restrained himself from the curt reply that itched inside his brain.
“Uh, she’s away, Miss Hugenot. I’m not sure when she’ll be back.” He tried to concentrate on the two massive tractors entering the track. “Sure good weather for a fair,” he murmured, but Minnie ignored that.
“Don’t you worry, honey,” she consoled him, patting his arm. “Maggie will be here. She never misses the chuck wagons. Maggie and those girls of hers could outyell most of the folks here.” As the woman behind him bellowed more orders to Travis, Grady rolled his eyes. “Yes, even louder than that.” Minnie giggled.
“Hey, Grady! We’re going to look at those newfangled foreign rigs Bob Reynolds just got in. Wanna come?” Slim stood at the bottom of the bleachers, clearly unembarrassed by the attention he was drawing.
But Grady barely noticed. His attention was centered on the slim, blond-haired woman carrying three cups. Two little blond heads followed closely behind.
“There she is now.” Minnie beamed. “Maggie! Maggie McCarthy, you get up here and talk to this lonely man right now!”
And Grady was so glad to see her, he didn’t care that half the heads in the crowd turned to stare at them. He tried to control the joy that sprung up inside by reminding himself that Maggie might well be tied to another man by now, but when his eyes caught a glimpse of her empty ring finger, he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.
“Hi.” Maggie leaned in front of Minnie to smile at him and Grady strove to remain calm.
“Hi, Grady,” the girls chorused. Their faces were wreathed in smiles and Grady couldn’t help wondering why they looked so happy.
“Hi, yourselves.” He grinned back. And then stared at his hands, trying desperately to think of something to say other than, “Where have you been?”
“Hello, Miss Hugenot,” Keeley murmured dutifully. She shuffled her feet for a moment and then grinned at Katy. “I think Mrs. Copperfield is looking for you to help her in the booth. They had a whole bunch of people lined up when we came past.”
“Good gravy!” Minnie said explosively, hustling to her feet. “I just finished a shift! Folks seem to be mighty hungry today.” She gathered up her huge handbag. “Still, it’s for a good cause. Slide over here now, Maggie. That’s right. Leave some room at the end so folks don’t have to clamber over everyone. See you later.”
As they wished Minnie goodbye, Grady couldn’t help but notice Katy’s smug nod at Keeley. But there was no point in asking them what it was all about. He was pretty sure they wouldn’t tell him anyway. He turned his attention where he’d wanted it in the first place. Back on Maggie.
“Did you have a good trip?” he asked softly. “Your mother told me you went to Calgary. Everything okay?”
Maggie’s big blue eyes met his straight on as she nodded her head. “I think so,” she murmured. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I went to see Brian.”
Grady forced his face to remain impassive and kept his rump planted right where it was even though he wanted to run howling into the hills. “Oh.”
“I wanted to tell him that I couldn’t marry him after all.” She flushed under his intense scrutiny, but to Grady she was just more beautiful. “Then the girls and I had a little holiday at Calaway Park.”
Grady listened as the twins burst into excited speech about their day at the amusement center. But while they talked about the rides they’d enjoyed, he concentrated on Maggie. And praised God that she hadn’t been drawn in by the allure of Brian and all that he could offer her. Now, if he could just get a few minutes alone with her, maybe he could make her understand how much he’d missed her.
“Thanks for minding the farm for us,” she whispered as the last tractor left the track. “I really needed a break and so did the girls. They haven’t had a holiday in a long time.” Her fingers squeezed his and Grady squeezed them back.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly. “You’re very welcome.” And when she would have pulled away, Grady hung on, enveloping her slender fingers in both his hands.
The chariot races took over then and Grady watched amused as Katy and Keeley alternately cheered and jeered the teams they picked to win.
“They have a small wager going,” Maggie explained as he watched Katy hand Keeley a pack of gun. “But they pretend they don’t because they know I have a strict rule about gambling.” She raised her voice on the last few words and was rewarded with two cheeky grins.
“Oh, Mom!” Katy rolled her eyes heavenward and snapped her
gum at the same time. “It’s just a game!”
But it was a good game, Grady agreed. “I’ll take the red-and-white striped chariot, girls. I think those ponies are going to clean house.”
The three females surrounding him looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“Oh, Grady,’ Maggie said, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. “Thank goodness your expertise is farming and not horse racing.” When she wouldn’t explain further, Grady contented himself with watching the teams set up, mentally chiding the gorgeous brown geldings to prove her wrong.
“Can’t beat that for a start,” he informed them as the colorful rig rushed to the front. “Look how they’re pulling away from the pack. I knew those horses could go.”
And go they did. Across the infield, off the track, dodging chuck wagons that were just entering the ring. The driver seemed to be fighting with the horses as they pranced merrily past the stands. He finally lost his hold on the reins and fell out the back, losing his shoes and his baggy pants in the process. Underneath, he sported bright red boxers with a huge heart on the rear.
“He’s a clown,” Grady told them disgustedly. “A team like that and he’s a clown!”
“A very good clown,” Maggie corrected him. She was laughing openly at him now, her lips spread wide as her eyes glistened in the bright sunshine. Automatically Grady leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, uncaring of the interested spectators surrounding them. The kiss lasted for only a second or two before Maggie pulled back, flushed with embarrassment. But for Grady, it was enough to start with.
“Now we’re square,” he murmured, for her ears only.
Maggie couldn’t believe Grady O’Toole had kissed her in front of God and the entire population of Willow Bunch. Now everyone would be talking about them! Still, she couldn’t help the hand that slipped up to touch her lips where his had rested.
“I, uh, I don’t think this is a very good idea just now,” she murmured, trying to control the heat in her face. “Everyone’s watching.”
Grady studied her serious face before turning back to the track. “Okay,” he agreed softly. “But we need to talk. At least, I need to talk to you.” She saw the uncertainty touch his face. “If you want to, I mean.”
“Oh, yes, I want to,” she agreed quietly, heart pounding as she considered all the things she wanted to tell him. “Later.”
The chuck wagons ran faster that night than in previous years. Or it seemed that way to Maggie. And as she watched Katy’s and Keeley’s bright heads bent over in conversation with Grady, she whispered a prayer of thankfulness toward heaven.
This seems right, she thought, happily content to let the girls occupy his time. He’s kind and considerate. He knows by now that I haven’t got a dime and yet he stays on. The girls like him.
Those thoughts occupied her mind until it was time to leave the grandstand and move into the teeming crowd of people. At last they were on their way home with Grady’s truck following close behind.
“Mom?” Keeley’s voice was soft in the darkness. “Do you like Grady?”
“Of course I like him, sweetheart! He’s been very good to us.” Some motherly sense told Maggie what was coming.
“No, Mom! I mean do you like, love him? Like in the movies?” Keeley’s serious face tilted upward, waiting. “’Cause if you do, well, Katy and I like him, too. We think he’s great.”
“I know you do, honey. And Grady is a really nice man. But I think it’s too soon to be talking about love. We hardly know him.”
“I know him really good,” Katy piped up from the back seat. “He doesn’t care if I ask questions all the time. Not like Brian.”
Maggie frowned. “What questions did you ask Brian, Katy?”
“I asked him if he figured God meant for giraffes to look like that.” Maggie could hear the snap of gum but ignored it. “Just seems kind of odd that He’d do it that way. You know?”
“What did Brian say?” Maggie could imagine that Brian had not understood the little girl’s enquiring mind. It was one of Brian’s shortcomings that she hadn’t wanted to admit to herself.
“He said I was being sac…sac…something.” She snapped her gum again. “But I wasn’t, Mom. Honest. I wonder why, if God can create such a great invention as the photocopier, He would make giraffes look like they do?”
Maggie stifled her laughter and turned the car into her driveway. “Anything else?” she asked, tongue in cheek.
“Well, I said that if we came to live with him, Keeley and me would like our own bedrooms. I mean, you wouldn’t want us to end up like Cain and Abel, would you? I bet if their mom had given them separate rooms, they wouldn’t have killed each other.” Katy stopped and Maggie could see her, in the rearview mirror, twisting her pigtail as she remembered that conversation. “He got kind of red-faced and told me not to be sac…that word.”
“We’re not going to live with Brian, Katy. I’m not going to marry him, remember? So I don’t think you have to worry about it anymore. You’ll still have your own rooms here in our house.”
“Yes!” Katy high-fived her sister in a jubilant cry of satisfaction, before yanking open the car door and racing over to Grady’s truck. “We’re not moving,” she announced, hugging him tightly.
Grady’s warm brown eyes met Maggie’s, sending his own message, and she felt warmed by his gaze. “Yes, I know,” he murmured, hugging Katy back. “And I’m glad. Very glad,” he repeated as Katy raced around the yard, yelling at the top of her lungs.
The girls were overexcited, and it took an hour before they were finally settled in their beds. They insisted on Grady coming in to kiss them good-night, and Maggie noticed that he seemed thrilled with the idea. She stood outside Keeley’s door, listening to their conversation.
“Are you going away, Grady? Or are you going to stay and help my mother with the harvest?” She sounded fearful, and Maggie wished she hadn’t let the girls see how much the farm had taken out of her this year. At ten years of age, they shouldn’t have to worry about her.
“I’m staying right here, Keeley. For as long as your mother needs me. You can count on that. And if you and Katy ever want my help, or just want to talk, I’ll be here for you, too. No matter what happens. Okay?”
Maggie heard the heartfelt sigh clearly. “Thanks, Grady. It’s just that I can’t help wondering about things. You know?”
“I know exactly what you mean. And if there’s anything else bothering you, you just ask me.” There was a minute of silence and then Grady spoke again. “Keeley? Was there something else?”
“Well, I was just wondering.” The little girl’s voice dropped to a whisper and Maggie had to lean in to hear. “My dad died a while ago. And my mom’s been alone ever since. She never complains or anything,” Keeley rushed to explain. “But sometimes it would be nice if she had an adult to talk to, don’t you think? Somebody who tells her she’s beautiful and makes her laugh.”
Maggie blushed. It was humiliating to have your daughter trying to match you up, and she was ready to go charging into the room when Grady spoke.
“I like your mom, Keeley. I like her very much. And you’re right—she is very beautiful. But I think it would be best if I told her that myself, in my own way.” Maggie heard the tender note in his voice. “Without the help of two little girls who are very tired and really need their sleep. Get my meaning?”
“Good night, Grady.” Keeley giggled.
Maggie went downstairs to make tea, smiling as she filled the kettle. Her daughters might be meddling, but they weren’t stupid. They knew when to back off.
“They’re in bed and the lights are off,” Grady said, walking into the kitchen. “But that’s all I can guarantee.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Maggie laughed. “Thanks. If you’ll take the cups, I’ll bring the teapot out in a minute.” She deliberately kept her eyes focused on the counter in front of her, waiting as Grady stood watching her. Finally she heard him walk through the d
oor and breathed a sigh of relief.
You can get through this, she told herself sternly. Just pretend that you didn’t hear a word. But no matter how much she pretended, Maggie couldn’t help remembering the look in his eyes earlier this evening when he’d kissed her.
“Oh, get on with it, woman,” she muttered, grabbing the teapot and opening the door. “You’re no schoolgirl!” She shivered as the warmth of the evening and the intimacy of being alone with him suddenly hit her.
“Whatever happens, Lord,” she pleaded, “please help me say the right thing. Don’t let me hurt him.”
Chapter Ten
Grady wasn’t on the screen porch. Instead he sat stretched out on a redwood lounger on the grass in front of the house. He’d pulled up a table and a chair for her, as well.
“It’s hard to believe God made it all in six days, isn’t it?” he murmured, staring at the star-studded, black velvet sky. “Perfection.” He grinned at her, his teeth flashing. “And you look lovely, too.”
“I always did think plain old denim and ordinary white cotton was my forte,” Maggie scoffed, sipping her tea.
“It wasn’t so much the color of the fabric I was referring to,” Grady murmured, his eyes warm as they moved over her worn jeans and white cotton shirt. “You always look lovely. It’s something that comes from inside, not from what you wear. You wouldn’t be any more lovely if you were dressed in silk.”
“Still,” Maggie said with a laugh, “I wouldn’t mind trying it out once.” She stopped at the look on his face. “I’m sorry. That was rude.” She inclined her head. “Thank you for the compliment.”
“It wasn’t really a compliment, Maggie. It was the truth. I’ve seen your real inner beauty every day that I’ve been here. When you’re talking with the girls, or leading Bible school or losing your fishing pole to a klutz. I think you’re pretty special, Margaret Mary McCarthy.”