Wind Over Marshdale

by Tracy Krauss

  Sugar cubes and hard candies hardly compared to a broken window. “When did they notice that these items were missing?” Rachel asked.

  “Frank Thompson found out this afternoon when he went to open up for the rummy players. It seems nobody noticed this morning, because it wasn’t one of the regulars that made the coffee. We have a few members of our Seniors Club that don’t come out much, you know. Only when it’s their turn to make the coffee. But Frank is a real regular. He knew something was amiss straight away! He’s the one who noticed that the lock had been tampered with. And then he noticed the missing cookies! He asked Mrs. Murphy if she had given the cookies away for Halloween. Naturally, she said no and then—”

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Aren’t you going to get the door, dear?” Mrs. Beatry asked.

  “Of course,” Rachel replied, scurrying to the door.

  This time, Con wasn’t wearing the usual cowboy hat and she felt her heart flutter at the sight of him. She liked the way his hair looked clean and wavy and how it curled around his collar. She almost forgot to greet him, and then blushed furiously as she said, “Hello.”

  Con entered the small apartment. “How are you, Mrs. Beatry?” he asked politely upon seeing the older woman at the table.

  “Why, just fine, thank you, Conrad,” Mrs. Beatry replied, rising. “My, my! Aren’t you a sight! More and more like your grandfather every day!” She looked meaningfully over at Rachel.

  “So I’ve heard,” Con said with a smile.

  “Such a handsome man, even in his later years, was your grandfather. You’re very much like him,” Mrs. Beatry clucked. “Now if I was a few years younger, I might be looking your way myself. What do you say, Miss Bosworth? Is Conrad not a dashing young gentleman? You be careful of this one, Miss Bosworth. You’ve had fair warning, to be sure. Even as a youngster he had a bit o’ the devil in him! One of my best pupils. I swear it! Do you still play?”

  “A bit.” Con shrugged.

  “That is good to hear,” Mrs. Beatry said. “Such a waste of talent if you don’t use it. You should come up and play for me sometime. For old times sake.”

  “I’ll do that,” Con promised. “But tonight I have a previous engagement.” He winked at Mrs. Beatry.

  “You young people have a good time,” she called as she ascended the stairs.

  “Don’t tell me. Mrs. Beatry taught you piano?” Rachel laughed.

  “Of course. Who else?”

  “No wonder she’s been warning me about you! You probably never practiced!”

  “I didn’t have to,” Con said with a gleam in his eye. “I was her star pupil. You almost ready?”

  “Almost. I’ll just get my coat.”

  Before she could turn away he grabbed her hand and bent for a kiss. “I was waiting for that all day,” he said.

  ****

  Ryder answered the door after just two knocks. He stepped out onto the stoop, quickly shutting the door behind him and surveying the landscape. “I’m not actually supposed to go out of the house,” he informed. “I’m still grounded.”

  “Aren’t you coming to youth group tonight?” Billy Chang asked.

  “I doubt it,” Ryder responded. “I suppose I could ask again.”

  “Trent deserved it,” Billy said.

  Ryder’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I didn’t think you liked fighting.”

  “I don’t,” Billy shrugged. “But sometimes enough is enough. Even us quiet types have a breaking point.”

  “Exactly,” Ryder agreed. “Thanks for pulling me off the guy, though. I was pretty mad.”

  “I could tell,” Billy laughed.

  “I don’t know what happened exactly,” Ryder mused. “I just lost control or something. It was kind of scary.”

  Billy nodded his agreement once again. “Yeah.”

  “It’s weird. I should be used to it—the prejudice, I mean.”

  “I don’t think that’s something you ever get used to,” Billy noted.

  “As if you would know,” Ryder scoffed.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Billy asked.

  Ryder frowned, considering the question. “I don’t know. I guess I never really thought of you as—different. Not like me, anyway.”

  “Open your eyes,” Billy said. “I’m Chinese, remember?”

  “Yeah, but… that’s not the same.”

  “Poor Ryder,” Billy said, shaking his head. “You think you’re the only one to have to face racism? I’ve been called chink my whole life. Sure, people are nice enough, as long as you’re serving them their favorite Chinese food. But my parents have never really fit into the community beyond that. It’s funny because some of my ancestors have probably been in Canada longer than lots of the kids around here. My great-grandfather on my dad’s side helped build the railway. But as far as most people are concerned, we’re still foreigners. Chinese immigrants whose place is in a restaurant or a laundry. At least nobody can question your right to be here.”

  “Sorry. I guess I was just thinking about myself.”

  “Forget it,” Billy brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “Now, are you gonna ask your dad if you can come to youth group or not?”

  ****

  Con and Rachel left her apartment with a parting wave to Mrs. Beatry, who was peering out of the upstairs window, and got into Con’s truck. Rather than turn left at the four-way stop, Con turned right.

  “Where are we going?” Rachel asked. “I thought we were going out for dinner?”

  “We are,” Con said with a smile, looking at her briefly before pulling out onto the highway that led out of town.

  “But Sonny’s is that way,” she said, pointing.

  “Sonny’s? You think I was taking you out for dinner there? This calls for something a little more special.”

  “Where? There are no other restaurants in town.”

  “Maybe not in this town,” Con laughed. “There’s a bit more selection in Silver Creek.”

  “Of course,” Rachel nodded. She’d been out for dinner to Silver Creek before. Only not with Con McKinley.

  “It’s a nice community,” Con said. “Still small enough for the small town feel, but with more amenities than Marshdale. The doctor that comes to Marshdale clinic is from Silver Creek. Grandma Minnie lives in the nursing home there. It’s her one-hundredth next week. We’re having a party on Sunday, though.”

  “Wow. That’s amazing,” Rachel responded.

  “Mmm-hmm. She’s a pretty cool old lady, if I do say so. I think she’ll like you.”

  He reached over with his free hand and took Rachel’s into his. She could feel the warmth from his fingers tingling up into her whole body. She wished that she didn’t feel so at a loss for words at these moments. But perhaps there were no words that could express her true feelings.

  The early dusk of November had already almost turned to dark. Con spotted a deer loping through a field and pointed it out to Rachel.

  “How did you spot it at such a distance? I probably would have missed it,” Rachel commented.

  “Habit, I guess. You need to be careful. Especially after dark,” Con replied.

  They arrived in Silver Creek and Con pulled into the parking lot of a familiar restaurant. Apparently the “Sizzle T Steak and Spaghetti House,” was a popular spot for dinner dates. Con’s hand rested gently on the small of her back as he maneuvered her into the dimly lit restaurant. The dark paneling, crushed red velvet upholstery, and Spanish theme hadn’t changed since the last time she’d been here with Thomas. It seemed like eons ago.

  They found seats in an alcove and waited as the hostess brought their menus.

  “Probably not the classiest place you’ve ever been to,” Con commented, noticing Rachel’s perusal of the interior.

  “Hmm?” Rachel replied absently.

  “I imagine there are lots of fancy places back east that you’re used to going to. I suppose we could have driven into the city,” Con offered as way of apology
.

  Rachel smiled. “No, this is great. I was just admiring the hometown character. Besides, that’s much too far to drive tonight. I would have starved to death.”

  “The food here is really good. If you like traditional fare, that is.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, we prairie folk like our beef.”

  “So what do you suggest?” Rachel asked, flipping open her menu.

  “Hmm. They do a great prime rib, the steaks are always done to perfection, and the souvlaki is a good choice, too,” Con replied as he examined the menu.

  They spent a few more minutes in casual conversation as they looked over the menu.

  “Hi, folks,” a red haired waitress wearing too much eye makeup said as she brought water and utensils. “What’ll it be tonight?”

  “I’ll go for the prime rib,” Con decided as he closed his menu and handed it to the woman.

  “Con? Conrad McKinley, is that you?”

  Con scrutinized the waitress for a second. “Donna?” he finally asked in recognition.

  “In the flesh,” she replied.

  “I didn’t know you were back in these parts. Weren’t you out in Vancouver?”

  The woman swore crudely before replying. “I’ve been back a month or so.”

  “So, you live here in Silver Creek?”

  “For now. You’d think I’d know better,” she added with more expletives.

  “Oh, sorry. I forgot to introduce you. Donna Fletcher—or, no, it’s Black, now, right? Donna this is Rachel Bosworth. Rachel—Donna.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Rachel said politely. Something about the other woman irritated her. Maybe it was her crass vocabulary.

  “Donna and I went to school together,” Con explained to Rachel. “So what brought you back to the prairies? I thought you liked the excitement of the West Coast?”

  “Cost of living is way too high. That and I finally split with my old man,” Donna informed, flipping her head nonchalantly as if to move her bangs. The truth was, her hairdo looked to be sprayed into an impenetrable helmet and didn’t budge. “I needed some time to chill. I’ll probably send for the kids at Christmas.”

  “Oh, I see. Sorry to hear that,” Con offered.

  “That’s life.” Donna shrugged. “Now I should get your order in, if you want to eat. Have you decided?” She gestured at Rachel.

  “Um, I’ll just have whatever Con is having,” Rachel replied.

  “Got yourself a good one, this time, Con,” Donna winked as she took Rachel’s menu. “But I s’pose that’s how you always liked ‘em. Nice and compliant.”

  Rachel could feel her color rising, but she didn’t have a comeback. Donna took their order and swung away.

  “Don’t mind Donna,” Con advised, leaning forward. “She’s always been a bit blunt. She likes to come across tough, but she’s really not that bad. She’s had a hard life.”

  “Of course,” Rachel said, forcing a smile. “No big deal.” Donna’s comment was the kind of thing her mother or sister Michelle might have said. Something just subtle enough to effectively put her in her proper place. Beneath them. She chided herself for overreacting—again. Her emotions were definitely much too sensitive these days.

  “Just so you know,” Con continued, taking Rachel’s fingers and rubbing them between his own, “In case Donna says something. We went out together in high school for a while.”

  “Oh,” Rachel replied. A ball of jealousy instantly formed.

  “She was the preacher’s kid and was out to prove something, I guess. That she wasn’t a goody-goody, or something. And I was, well, searching for my own faith, I guess you could say.”

  This revelation about Donna surprised Rachel. “She was a minister’s daughter?”

  “Yep. You know what they say. Sometimes it’s the preacher’s kids that are the worst of all. We were just young and stupid. She dumped me anyway, and moved on. Like I said, we were testing the boundaries—searching out our faith.”

  “It looks as though you’ve found yours,” Rachel commented. “I’m not so sure about her.”

  “She knows. She just hasn’t given in yet.”

  “Given in?”

  “To God.”

  “Oh.” There it was again. The ever present references to religion.

  “Oops. I told myself no preaching tonight. Sorry.” Conrad smiled disarmingly.

  Rachel smiled back as the feelings of uncertainty melted away in Con’s gaze. She would have been content to do nothing all evening but feel the warmth of his hand on hers and stare into the depths of his blue eyes.

  Unfortunately, she had to snap back to reality when Donna brought their salads. “Here you go,” she said, setting the individual salads down on the table in front of them. She was about to leave and then turned back, directing her next comment at Rachel. “Oh, and you can thank me for teaching him everything he knows, if you know what I mean. Although, I hope he’s learned to prolong things a bit.”

  Rachel glanced over at Con and saw that his cheeks were turning red. “Sorry,” he apologized on Donna’s behalf. His voice sounded tight. He was either angry or just embarrassed, Rachel couldn’t tell which. “Trust Donna to say something totally inappropriate. We can leave if you want.”

  “It’s okay,” Rachel said. “Forget it.”

  “You sure?” Con asked.

  “Unless you want to,” Rachel offered.

  “I don’t want to give her the satisfaction.” He shook his head and a slight smile was beginning at the corners of his mouth. “I guess we all have skeletons in the closet, but apparently there’s no hiding mine. And for the record, we were just kids,” he added.

  “Please don’t explain.” Rachel couldn’t help giggling.

  Con allowed a full-fledged grin to soften his features. “It’s really not that funny. Very humiliating, but definitely not funny.”

  It was good to laugh about life’s mistakes, Rachel mused. Otherwise you’d drown in your own tears.

  ****

  A smaller than usual group of young people had gathered at Pastor Todd’s for Youth Group. A low key Bible study and some board games were on the agenda. Everyone was a little burnt out after the Halloween festivities, not to mention the fact that some very inclement weather had whipped itself up. Many of the out-of-towners had opted out of driving in for the event, including the McKinleys.

  Billy, Suzie, Faye and Ryder were lounging on the couches in the basement rec room. With Billy’s assistance, Ryder had been able to convince his father that he’d served sufficient time.

  “So we were talking about the Great Commission,” Pastor Todd reiterated. “We are all called to be missionaries—to tell people about Jesus.”

  “But that’s hard sometimes,” Faye Rowan, one of the regulars, piped up.

  “Especially when people don’t like you,” Billy added.

  “We are to love our enemies,” Todd countered.

  “But how? That’s too hard,” Faye persisted. “I’ve been trying and I’m just tired of it. You know?”

  There were general nods of assent.

  “Well, we can pray,” the pastor said, his voice trailing off. He looked over at his wife for support and got none. “Why don’t we do that right now to finish up? Then we can have refreshments.”

  The young people weren’t about to give in so easily. “Faye is right,” Billy continued. “It’s fine to say ‘pray’’, but what can we do that is practical? Especially for our so-called enemies? Isn’t that just asking for a beating?”

  “I heard about something once,” Carol joined the conversation. “In fact, we did this at our last church, didn’t we?” She looked directly at her husband. “It was called ‘Random acts of Kindness.’”

  “Sounds cool. What do you do?” Suzie asked.

  “Well, besides praying for people, you reach out by doing kind things for them. Things that would take them by surprise; that they wouldn’t expect from you and without payment.”

&n
bsp; “Like what?” Billy wanted to know.

  “Shovel a sidewalk, stack firewood, deliver groceries. There are lots of things. Even just bring a small gift or card.”

  “There are several folks around town that I’m sure would appreciate a hand with odd jobs like that,” Todd affirmed. “Even some of our board members.”

  “That’s true, but I was thinking more along the lines of something—and someone—unexpected. Not that we wouldn’t look after the board members, too,” she was quick to add.

  “Okay…?” Billy prompted. His interest had been piqued.

  “Think of the most unlikely person you possibly can,” Carol went on, gaining enthusiasm. “Someone that you really don’t like very much or that you think is totally unapproachable.”

  “Trent,” Billy said, elbowing Ryder in the ribs.

  “Then you start to pray specifically for that person every day. Ask God to give you a new love and respect for that person. Help you to love that person with the love of Jesus. And also ask Him for specific ways that you can reach out in a practical way. I think you’ll be surprised at the way God will work.”

  “Would we all pray for the same person or for different people?” Faye asked.

  “That depends,” Carol mused. “I suppose we could do both. What do you think, Todd?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. Whatever works, I suppose.”

  “The most unlikely person, eh?” Billy mused, rubbing his chin.

  “I know!” Suzie blurted excitedly. “I have the perfect person. Your neighbor, Ryder. Mirna Hyde.”

  All eyes turned to Suzie, as if she’d gone mad.

  “What? You did say the most unlikely, right?” she defended.

  Carol nodded. “That I did.”

  “I’m not sure that would be appropriate since her sister is on the board,” Todd pointed out.

  “Maybe they both need our prayers,” Carol said, looking directly at her husband for several seconds. Todd just frowned.

  “I like it,” Billy said.

  “What about you, Ryder? What do you think?” Suzie asked.