Glory Falls

by Janine Rosche

  The news story showed a colored picture of Ms. Maxine’s home, surrounded by mammoth mounds of ice, some as big as a car, and pine trees pinned between them.

  “Four or five years ago, we had a terrible winter. It was colder than my bed after hip surgery.”

  Thomas pressed his fist to lips, but his grin stretched past it.

  “So cold the Madison froze,” she continued. “When it started breaking up, these boulders of ice pushed over the riverbed and crushed all the trees leading to my house. You remember where I live, don’t you? Over there by the bridge. Of course you do. You set off those fireworks to kill my poor Greta. Well, Thomas brought a whole army of strapping young men to barricade my house and break up that ice that was coming my way. He worked all day and all night in the bitter cold, but my house—the one my daddy built with his bare hands—was completely safe because of him. That, Cecelia Walker, is what heroes do.”

  “Yes, it is,” Blue said. She gazed at his handsome face until he finally lifted his eyes to hers.

  “You put that in your little movie. I have to go now. My boyfriend is coming over for supper. He’s twenty years my junior and almost as handsome as my Theo,” she said, holding up the novel with the Shane look-alike on the cover. “Just more hair. Especially in his ears. And on his back.” Maxine moved to stand, prompting Thomas to jump into action, helping her up.

  Perhaps Blue should have helped, too, but she was taken aback seeing Thomas’s good deeds in action. Way back. A strong man with a gentle touch and kindness to boot?

  The sight was not good for Blue. She focused on the freshly poured mug of coffee, lifted it, and allowed the steamy drink to spill between her lips and down her throat.

  “You tell that boyfriend of yours that he better have honorable intentions, or he and I will need to have a talk,” Thomas said.

  “Honorable intentions? Gracious, son, I stopped caring about honorable intentions the day I stopped buying green bananas. Life is too short for such things. Just like it’s too short to spend time with Cecelia Walker. She kills chickens.”

  “Thanks for the advice, Ms. Maxine,” Thomas said as he helped her turn her walker toward the door. “So what’s on the dinner menu?”

  “Fried chicken.”

  Blue coughed up her coffee all over her notebook. Thomas reached across the table for his napkin and used it to sop up the droplets.

  “Goodness, girl. You’re making a mess of yourself.” Maxine gave the stink eye to Blue one more time, then began her trek back to the front of the coffeehouse.

  “Wow, she truly dislikes me. I’m guessing in the divorce, she was Team Hunter Dean?”

  “Just goes to show she doesn’t know everything.” A rare mischievous smile spread over Thomas’s face. “I’ll be right back. Hey, Ms. Maxine?” He jogged away, catching the woman by the door. He spoke too low for Blue to hear, but there was a lot of headshaking and shrugging. His face was bathed in sorrow until he pinched the bridge of his nose. Was he . . . was he crying? If not, he was pretending to.

  Ms. Maxine beckoned him near, and they embraced. Then, Thomas held open the door for her to pass through. He watched her for another thirty seconds, probably checking to make sure she got in her car safely before returning to Blue’s table.

  “What did you tell her?”

  “The truth. That I was the one who set off those fireworks that killed Greta. And I told her how sorry I was, and if I’d known Greta had a heart condition, I wouldn’t have done it.”

  “You liar.”

  “How is that a lie? I did set them off. I even burned my hand on the fuse.”

  “But I made you do it.”

  “No. From what I remember, you asked me to do it, and I said yes. That wasn’t the worst thing you asked me to do, growing up.”

  Blue’s thoughts flashed to the frog kiss. Even now, it brought fire to her cheeks.

  “I wish I’d known she held such a grudge against you. I would have admitted my part a long time ago.” Thomas settled back into his chair. He pulled off a piece of his muffin and popped it in his mouth before shoving the plate toward Blue. He wiped his hands on his jeans and sat back in his chair.

  “You don’t want any more?” Blue accepted the plate.

  “I didn’t get it for me.”

  Blue took a bite of the muffin. Pumpkin chocolate chip, her favorite. The perfect treat for—

  The bells jerked her attention up. A fairy princess and a cowboy, both less than four feet tall, entered the shop behind their mother. No. It couldn’t be, could it? Ever since she’d moved back to Montana, days blended into weeks. “What’s the date?”

  “October thirty-first. Why?”

  She chewed her lip. “There are some days when it hits me that I’m not a mother any longer. This is one. You know, I’d already made her costume for our church’s harvest festival the year she died. She was going to be a ladybug. She looked adorable in it.”

  “I bet she did.”

  Blue shoved another bite into her mouth to keep from saying more. Too much sadness and she’d drive Thomas away like she’d driven Hunter away.

  * * *

  * * *

  Later that night, Blue had just settled onto the couch beneath a blanket to watch a movie with a bowl of popcorn when the doorbell rang. Panic stretched through her. Why would trick-or-treaters come to this house? She ducked low, as if to hide, though no one could see inside anyway. She had to have something in the pantry. A new, unopened pack of Chips Ahoy. Yes. Some kid was going to have a lucky day.

  Blue hurried downstairs to the foyer and pulled open the front door. Molly was standing on the front step facing away from Blue until the door opened. She turned, excitedly greeting Blue and then trying to bite the cookie package. In the process, the cowboy hat that had been tied to her head with a ribbon fell off, leaving only a bandana around her neck that read Trick or Treat in permanent marker. Down below on the walkway, Thomas stepped into the glow her porch light provided. He held up his hands in surrender. “I wanted to make you smile, but my bad dog didn’t listen.”

  “It was perfect. Sorry, Molly. No chocolate for you.”

  The dog sniffed, likely smelling the popcorn she’d made, then crossed the threshold. Blue tried blocking her path with her leg, but the dog squirreled its way past her, three legs and all.

  “Molly, no!” Thomas took the steps two at a time. He peered into the home, but Molly was already on the far side of the couch with only her backside and wagging tail visible. All his exasperation landed on Blue. “You could’ve done more to stop her, you know.”

  Blue shrugged. “I didn’t want to knock her down. She’s probably just eating all my popcorn.”

  “That explains it. Popcorn is her favorite treat.”

  An invitation for him to join her for the movie clung to the tip of her tongue. They were friends, sure. But considering the way Blue’s skin hummed as they stood beneath her porch light, not all of her had gotten the memo. For Val’s sake and her own, she swallowed the invitation down, but it bumped and bruised the whole way.

  A car turned onto Thomas’s driveway, its high beams cutting through the darkness separating the two homes.

  “That’s Val. She and I are going out for a late dinner.” Thomas ducked his head inside the house. “Molly, come here, girl.”

  Nothing.

  “How about this? I’m watching Strangers on a Train and could use a fur baby to cuddle with. Can I send her home later?”

  “You’re asking to babysit my dog?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Okay. How about I bring you a dessert?”

  Blue shook the package of cookies. “I’m good in the dessert department. Enjoy your date.”

  Thomas nodded, but his feet remained glued to her porch, even as she slipped inside and shut the door.

  Chapter Eleven


  With the might of someone twice his age, Thomas slammed the door closed behind him, causing the shelves in Blue’s garage to rattle as much as his nerves. He’d apologize to the Walkers tomorrow, but now he needed air. How had Blue’s birthday party gone so wrong? The invitation promised pizza, cake, and a viewing of one of her favorite movies, Strangers on a Train, with friends. Dumb Robbie just had to suggest the game Seven Minutes in Heaven instead.

  He rifled through the dozen shoes littering the cement, looking for the ugly sneakers Mom had brought home for him from the thrift store. Two sizes too small, of course. Why should his own mom know his shoe size? As a family, they hadn’t even celebrated his own fourteenth birthday last month. If it weren’t for Blue surprising him with a homemade cake, his parents probably wouldn’t have stopped fighting long enough to remember.

  Blue . . .

  Ugh. He felt sick to his stomach. They were friends. Just friends. Why did it bother him so much to see her go into that game closet with Robbie? And why did Robbie think Thomas would want to know what their kiss had been like? Thomas grabbed one of Robbie’s Nikes and threw it out onto the dark driveway. He stood and dug his feet into the pinched shoes, then turned to leave.

  Behind him, a song by the Black Eyed Peas cut through the quiet.

  “Thomas? You okay?” Blue. Always Blue.

  He cupped his hand atop his aching right eye. At least it hadn’t swollen closed. Probably not the wisest thing to swing first at a quarterback with a strong left hook.

  “I’m fine,” he said without looking back. “Enjoy the rest of your party.”

  She caught up to him on the driveway. “Can I walk you home at least?”

  He turned his face away from her. “I want to be alone.”

  “Hang on a sec!” Her hand grabbed his arm and yanked him to a stop. She came around the front of him and palmed his jaw gently. “Lemme look.”

  There was no use protesting. Blue always got her way with him. Hopefully, it was too dark to see how embarrassed he was.

  “I think you’re gonna have a shiner. Here. Take this.” She placed something over his eye, and he winced at the cold sting. “Frozen peas. It’s what they do in the movies.”

  He raised his hand and covered hers where she held the bag. Out here in the moonlight, she looked almost . . . pretty. If he’d gotten the chance to go into the game closet with her, would he have had the nerve to kiss her?

  Shouts spilled out the windows of his house. His parents were at it again, with Cassie inside on her own.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, pulling away from her and hurrying down the drive.

  Most fights took place in the family room or the kitchen, so Thomas rounded the front of his home and entered through the front door. He avoided his parents altogether and turned down the hall, heading straight toward Cassie’s bedroom in the back. He tried the door, but something blocked its opening. He spoke through the crack. “Cassie, it’s me.”

  Curses flew from the main part of the house, scaling over the ceiling and down the walls like spiders and snakes.

  “Tommy?”

  “Yeah.”

  The door closed on him. Inside, wood squeaked against wood. Her desk? After a few seconds, small footsteps pounded away from the door. He went inside her room and closed the door behind him. A sharp contrast to the rest of the house, Cassie’s room was always spotless. One thing she could control. But now, it had been upended, leaving her desk in the middle of the floor, and all of her books and pencils spilled across her bed. He found his little sister huddled in the corner of her closet with streaks of tears down her cheeks.

  “Don’t be scared, Cass. Tommy’s here.” He crawled in beside her, wrapping his arms around her. Ten years old, but she still seemed so small. With the toe of his too-tight shoe, he nudged the closet door down its track, closing them in darkness. After a bit, her shuddering stopped.

  “Did you have fun at Blue’s party?” she asked.

  “I guess.”

  “Did she like that soccer ball necklace you got her?”

  “Dunno. She didn’t open it yet.”

  “I bet she’ll love it. Kind of like how she loves you.” Her teasing nearly made him laugh.

  Instead, he found her socked foot and tickled it. “Oh yeah? Oh yeah?!”

  Cassie’s giggle was almost enough to make him forget everything from this terrible night. But the ruckus burst into Cassie’s room. Shrieks, worse than ever before, bellowed on the other side of the closet door. A horrid crash made Cassie scream against Thomas’s chest. “Make it stop, Tommy. Make it stop. Please!”

  Above them, the closet door caved in, catching on the wall before crushing Thomas and Cassie. A body lay against it. Thomas peered around and found his father struggling back to his feet while his mom stood angrily above Cassie’s now-broken desk. The bag of frozen peas had split and scattered across the floor.

  “Touch me one more time, and I’ll break everything in this house!” his father yelled. He lifted Cassie’s dollhouse high over his head, threatening to hurl it at Thomas’s mom.

  Thomas scrambled out of the closet and stood between his parents. “Enough! We’ve had enough! One of you needs to leave. I don’t care who, but this stops tonight.”

  “Aren’t you big, Thomas Beck?” His father laughed but lowered the dollhouse to the ground. “Never been brave a day in your life, but now you stand between me and my wife?”

  “Ha! Your wife. I’m nothing but your slave, you—”

  “Stop!” Thomas spread his arms out wide to keep his parents separated. “One of you leaves or I’ll take Cassie, and we’ll leave.” He looked back and forth between his mom’s and dad’s stunned expressions.

  “You wouldn’t,” his mom said. “You couldn’t.”

  “I’d figure it out. I’ve taken better care of Cassie than you ever have, Mom. And I’m already more of a man than you, Dad.”

  Cassie crawled out from the closet and nestled against Thomas’s side, weeping quietly.

  “This was my parents’ home,” his mom said matter-of-factly. “If one of us leaves, it’s gonna be him.”

  “Fine,” his dad said, throwing up his hands. “I’d rather live on the streets than in this heap anyway. You’ll see me in court. You won’t take my children away from me.”

  A trail of curses followed him down the hallway, courtesy of Thomas’s mom.

  His dad left the house, taking nothing with him. Thomas’s mom broke into sobs and ran to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

  In Thomas’s arms, Cassie nearly collapsed. He lifted her the best he could and tucked her into her bed.

  Thomas carried the dollhouse back to its place against the wall. He perused the desk. It was broken, but with some tools, and maybe Robbie’s help, he could fix it. He’d just have to forgive the guy sooner than he’d planned. He shouldn’t have let his anger get the best of him. He was no better than his parents, hurting the people closest to him. If that was his curse, then he’d just have to do everything in his power to help them instead, no matter the cost to himself. He looked back at his sister’s teary eyes. “Don’t worry, Cass. I’ll take care of you.”

  “For how long?” Her soft voice quavered on the question.

  “Until you don’t need me anymore.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Cassie, you should come down. I know Blue would love to see you. And I’d like to see my little sister, too,” Thomas said into his phone. He hated taking phone calls in the grocery store, but his sister was hard to catch these days.

  “I’d love to see you both! But it’ll have to wait. I’m working on a big case up here in Bozeman. And what these kids have been through makes our childhood look like a walk in Yellowstone National Park.”

  “What about Thanksgiving? You’ve got two weeks to plan ahead.”

  “Sorry, To
mmy. I need that day to build this case. At least you’ll have Val. How are things with her?”

  “Good.” Thomas cradled the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he placed the items for tonight’s taco dinner on the conveyor belt.

  “Sounds fascinating.”

  “Hey, have you talked to Dad?”

  “I haven’t. I figure if he doesn’t want to call me, why should I call him?”

  “I know. I’m worried about him.”

  “Did he ask you for more money?”

  Thomas squeezed his eyes closed. “Last time we spoke, he was in Laramie, but he was looking to head somewhere warmer for the winter.”

  “Like Louisiana?”

  “Cassie.”

  “What? Mom must love it there. After all, she chose it over us. Look, I’ve got to run, but tell Blue I said hi.”

  “I will. How are you doing on money?”

  “I’m a lawyer, remember? I don’t need your help anymore. You’ll just have to find a new charity case. I gotta go.”

  “Take—”

  The call ended.

  Care. Thomas pocketed his phone. He put the last of the groceries on the belt and pushed the cart ahead of him to the end of the lane.

  Taco night at the firehouse was a favorite, especially when Thomas was in the kitchen. The cold snap had broken yesterday, which hopefully meant an easy night and time for a shared meal. He’d made sure to get enough to invite the paramedics over, too. Val fit in well with his team, even if her presence guaranteed Thomas would be the punch line of every joke for the remainder of the shift.

  She’d been a great sport since Blue had returned to town. Not many women Thomas had known could have handled his best friend living right next door, writing his life story, and babysitting his dog. Since Halloween, Molly visited Blue at least once a day. She’d cry to go outside, and when Thomas let her out, the disobedient canine would traipse straight to Blue’s front door, only occasionally looking back when Thomas called her name. Yep. Blue had ruined his dog.