Chester pursed his lips, giving the house a cursory glance. “No. Jason will probably want to build. He can move a trailer on the yard until then.”
Amy blinked again. Just like that. A few words and her home, the place she had lived in all her life, was casually dismissed. It was hard not to resent his casual attitude.
“I’ll phone our lawyer this afternoon and tell him we’ll be coming in to sign an Agreement for Sale and he can get the searches going,” Amy said as they walked back to the pickup truck.
“I’ll call my own lawyer, as well. May as well get this thing going as soon as possible.” Before Chester climbed into the pickup, he reached out and shook Amy’s hand. “I think it will be a pleasure doing business with you. You look at the world with a steady eye.”
Steady? Amy felt like she could be knocked over by a day-old calf. But she smiled her thanks at the compliment and stood back, her arms crossed over her chest, her fingers digging into her skin.
Chester climbed into the truck and rolled down the window. “I need to make a few phone calls. Who do you deal through in town?”
“All our stuff is at McKnight and Grieg’s,” Amy said.
He nodded, tugging on his cap. “Good. We deal with them, too. That should make things easier. We can talk later about possession date and all the other dirt.” He turned the key in the truck, took another satisfied look over the yard, tossed a quick wave at her and roared down the driveway.
Okay, Lord, Amy thought, crossing her arms across her chest against the sudden chill she felt. Things have gone way beyond me. This isn’t the desire of my heart, but this is what You gave me. Help me to see that. Help me to let go.
She sucked in a full breath, all the way to the bottom of her lungs, and let it slowly out. And we’re going to need something for my dad to do.
She walked back to the house. She had some phone calls to make and appointments to set up.
As she walked up the steps to the house, she looked once more over her shoulder. Would she be able to let this go when the time came? It would mean choosing between Tim and the ranch.
And what about Paul?
Amy turned her back on the yard and walked resolutely into the house. Paul was not an option.
Chapter Fourteen
“A wright, folks, lets see what we got here….” The auctioneer bent over and with an audible grunt pulled another cardboard box toward him over the grass. He had set up his podium and table between the barn and the corrals, which was the highest point on the yard, creating a natural amphitheater. The late-morning sun shone brightly. The birds sang cheerfully. The flies behaved, keeping a low, lazy profile.
It was a glorious Saturday. Perfect for an auction sale. Most of the people in the area thought so, as well. Amy had never seen so many people at an auction sale.
The auctioneer hoisted up the box onto the table beside him and riffled through it. “Box number twelve contains some old toys,” he peered inside again and pushed some items aside. “A few books, and,” he straightened, holding up a dusty ceramic bowl, “this antique.” He turned it over, read the markings on the bottom and glanced back up at the crowd. “Mint condition, worth a small fortune.” He put it back in the box and turned to the crowd. “Okay. What am I bid? We’ll start with seventy, here now whaddya say…” He grabbed the microphone with one hand and held the other out, encouraging people to bid.
“Is he kidding? Seventy dollars for that stuff?” Tim’s voice was incredulous. “He’ll never get that,” he said to Amy as they hung back at the edges of the crowd, watching and listening.
“Of course not. It’s psychological. He’s trying to give people the idea he thinks it’s worth that much.” Amy leaned back against the barn, her hands in the pockets of her denim jacket as she listened to the auctioneer drop the opener ten dollars, then another ten. “That way if someone pays twenty dollars for it, they think they got a deal.”
“If someone pays twenty dollars for it, they got a very expensive bowl.” Tim frowned as the auctioneer dropped once more. Someone jumped in, another two people upped the ante and they were away. One man worked the front of the crowd, spotting the bids, catching the eyes of the people bidding, encouraging, badgering people he knew, calling out each time the price increased.
“Doesn’t seem to matter once you get caught up in the bidding.” Amy felt surprised at the amounts of money people were willing to pay for boxes of, basically, junk. She was going to throw most of it away, but the auctioneer told her to pack it all up in boxes and put one or two items of value in each one.
And he was right. Some of the boxes had gone for a ridiculously high price, and all because someone had wanted the old Mason jars stuffed in a box with old books or the cream can that held an assortment of kitchen utensils.
“Looks like I’ll get enough to retire on,” Judd grunted as he lowered himself to the straw bales Amy and Tim had placed against the barn for anyone who wanted to sit. But no one did. Everyone wandered around poking and prodding. The auction had started fifteen minutes ago, and people still arrived. Most people stopped to chat a minute, then went on to look at what was available. Having it on a Saturday had brought quite a few people out.
“It’s going a lot better than I thought,” Amy commented. She scanned the crowd, her heart stopping each time she saw a blond head, then chastised herself.
Figures milled about, and one detached itself from the group.
“Hello, everybody.” Elizabeth Henderson breezed up. She smiled at Tim and hugged Amy and nodded at Judd. “There’s a lot of people here today.” She looked over her shoulder at the crowd and then back at Amy. Elizabeth caught her gaze and looked her directly in the eyes. “How are you doing?” she asked quietly.
Amy lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. “Okay.” She didn’t want to talk about how she felt. This morning she had prayed for strength to get through the day, and so far she had managed to keep a delicate hold on her emotions. It was harder than she thought to see her life auctioned away to people who wouldn’t hold the things as dear as she did.
Elizabeth sensed her reticence, pausing a moment to stroke her shoulder. “I’d stick around, but I promised Fred I wouldn’t buy anything, and if I stay, I will. I was on my way to town and thought I’d stop in and see you a minute. You’re welcome to come over for supper,” she swung her gaze to Judd and Tim, both of whom only nodded. She looked back at Amy. “I hear you’re finally shopping for your wedding dress? That’s cutting it close, my girl. When are you leaving for Vancouver?”
“Tonight,” Amy replied.
“How long are you staying?”
“Not long. I have to be back—” Amy caught herself. She didn’t have to be back for anything. The Drozd boys were going to bale the hay, and Rick was going to oversee the shipping out of the cows and heifers. She drew a breath and tried again. “I’m hoping we can find a dress quickly, though. Just in case it needs to be altered.”
“I’m sure we’ll find something.” Tim wrapped his arm around her waist and squeezed. “My mother has had a number of dresses picked out for weeks now.” He laughed lightly and Amy forced a smile.
“I’m sure you’ll find something you like,” said Elizabeth with a reassuring pat on Amy’s shoulder. “And what about you, Judd. Do you have your suit?”
“Tim got me a tux,” he replied. “Ordered special. Got a deal on the pants because I didn’t need a full pair.”
Amy frowned at him.
Judd caught her look and winked. “Look, honey. I’m trying. Cut me a little slack here.”
Amy relaxed. It had been a long time since she heard her father crack a joke. The doctor had told her his previous mood swings were the result of fluctuating blood sugars and that once balanced, Judd would become easier to get along with.
And he was surprisingly correct. Amy still could not get used to her father’s bantering. She often had to look at him twice to make sure his remarks were said in jest and not his usual cutting comments. His bl
ood sugar levels had finally come under control, but Amy also noticed a lightness pervade his attitude after the sale of the ranch. Ever since the deed was signed over to Jason Drozd, it was as if a burden had been lifted from her father’s shoulders. This, of course, made her feel doubly guilty and selfish for hanging on to the place as long as she had.
“Why did you want to get rid of that?” Judd sat up, then pulled himself onto his crutches. “That’s a box of your old toys.”
“Why would I want to keep them?” Amy frowned as the auctioneer displayed an old doll with one eye missing and a ratty teddy bear, both pulled out from another box.
“I’m going to need something for the grandchildren to play with.”
“Dad, that’s a long way away. And where are you going to store them? I’m sure Rick wouldn’t thank you if you came to his place with a whole truckload of old toys and junk.”
Judd looked away, as if finally realizing what he had set in motion when he agreed to sell the ranch. “Your mother bought you kids some of those.”
Amy refused to think about that. The change in her father had been happening for a while, but since her mother’s visit he was more willing to talk about her, to recognize the relationship they once had.
Amy only shrugged and looked away.
“Ten I have ten, do I have ten fifty, ten fifty…” The auctioneer held up his hand ready to drop it to end the transaction when a voice called out, “Fifteen.”
Mr. Vanderwell’s head whipped around. “I’ve got fifteen,” he called out. “Thank you. Do I hear seventeen?” He cajoled some more, but no one came in. Mr. Vanderwell pointed to a person in the middle of the crowd as Amy wondered who would be willing to pay fifteen dollars for something they could pick up for five. “Sold, to Paul Henderson, for an even fifteen.”
Amy’s heart skipped a beat.
Elizabeth spun around and sighed audibly. “That boy,” she muttered. She turned back to Amy. “Don’t pay him any mind. He’s just…” But she paused, glanced at Tim who now stood, staring out over the people.
Amy could almost feel his antagonism.
The next item up was a set of wooden patio chairs. Amy had put them in the sale reluctantly. They were a project from high school shop class. Judd had designed them, and together they had labored over them endless hours. She ended up getting a mark of ninety-seven percent. It was the closest anyone had ever come to perfection in that teacher’s class, and once done, they had sat outside. Judd had thought it a shame to leave them out in the rain, so he’d stored them in a shed.
This time the first bidder came in sooner and the prices escalated quickly. Amy relaxed as the price went higher and higher, thankful Paul wasn’t bidding. Things slowed down and the auctioneer threw out another sales pitch. “These are genuine homemade chairs, folks. You won’t find anything like this in your regular stores. And—” he paused, glancing around the crowd “—these were handcrafted by Amy Danyluk herself.”
A voice called out, “Three hundred.”
A few gasps went up. Elizabeth glanced back at Amy then, shaking her head, pushed her way through the crowd to her son’s side. He bent his head to hear her, shook it and straightened as the auctioneer waited to see if anyone else wanted to tangle with Paul.
“Three hundred and fifty.”
Tim.
Amy’s heart sank, then began pounding in earnest as Paul added another fifty to that. She looked over at Tim, wondering if she could talk him out of this skirmish. His jaw was set, his hands planted firmly on his hips.
She couldn’t.
The price jumped by fifty each time, going higher and higher. Amy felt a flush warm her neck as people turned around to watch Tim do public battle with Paul, squirming under knowing looks.
The price had gone up to seven hundred dollars with neither contestant showing any sign of backing down.
Eight hundred and Tim stood his ground, matching Paul’s bid almost as soon as Paul spoke. Paul occasionally hesitated, tilting his head as if contemplating, completely ignoring his mother who now glared at him. But then, just at the last moment, upped the ante another ten.
Back and forth they went, people laughing outright, the auctioneer encouraging, calling out, “Does the winner get the girl, too?”
Amy blushed, wishing she could leave. She turned her head neither to the right to look at Paul nor to the left to look at Tim. Instead she concentrated on the hills just over the auctioneer’s shoulder, watching the trees swaying in the wind, wishing she was anywhere else but here. She didn’t want to know why Paul was buying things she knew he didn’t need. She didn’t want to think of the unspoken message she knew he was sending her. In six weeks she and Tim were getting married.
“It’s a beautiful wedding dress, Amy.” Elizabeth fluffed the top of the leg-of-mutton sleeves, the lustrous satin material shimmering in the rays of early-morning sun slanting through the living room window. “I wish your mother could see this.”
“She did. We met at the store.” Amy forced a covered button through the satin loop on her sleeve. The material dug into the curve of her elbow, almost cutting off her circulation.
“Was Mrs. Enders there?”
“She was the one who decided on this dress.”
Elizabeth thankfully said nothing, only nodded in acknowledgment. “It looks lovely on you.”
Amy wondered. When she had looked at herself in the mirror in the bridal salon, a beautiful stranger looked back at her with curious eyes. It didn’t seem like her.
She ran her hands down the front of the full skirt, then snatched them back. She was constantly aware of its cost. She had almost left it at the store in Vancouver, but Tim wanted her to bring it here.
“I’m surprised you picked this style,” Elizabeth said.
“I had my eye on another dress.” Amy’s voice became wistful as she worked on the button. “It was linen with open-work embroidery around the hem and neckline and the bottom of the sleeves. My mother had picked it out.”
“But…” prompted Elizabeth.
“Mrs. Enders didn’t think it was the kind of gown the future wife of a bank manager should get married in.” Amy pushed down the feelings of resentment she felt at Mrs. Enders’s casual dismissal of what she had chosen. What could Amy say? The Enders were paying for it. Noreen’s offer to pay was suavely brushed off by Delia, effectively giving her control.
Elizabeth stood back, tilted her head to one side, her expression thoughtful. “You sound unhappy. Is it your mother?”
Amy shook her head as her fingers fluttered over the sequin-and pearl-encrusted bodice. The hesitant steps she and her mother took toward reconciliation, difficult though it may be, were less taxing than Amy trying to impose her will over Mrs. Enders. “I’m going to stay with her this week. I can’t say I’m really excited about going back to Vancouver. But she offered to help me with some of the wedding preparations.” And help pay for them. This had eased some of the guilt about all the things she’d already had to accept from the Enders family and had given her some measure of choice. It was frustrating to her to watch what was supposed to be a joyous occasion break down into a battle of wills.
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow. She’s coming here to pick me up.”
“So soon?” Elizabeth’s face fell. “Will you be back?”
“I have to be back for the closing date to sign the final papers for the ranch. I’m only going to be there a few days.” Amy tilted her head toward Elizabeth, still doubting her own decision. “Do you think it’s the right thing to do?”
Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. “She’s your mother, you can’t change that and you need to get to know her. What better time than just before your wedding?”
Amy nodded in assent. “I know you’re right, but there are times that all the lonely years get in the way. When I came home and saw Dad sitting on the kitchen chair, his leg stuck out in front of him, his crutches leaning against the table, I went through another whole ra
nge of emotions again—like it was her fault he’s the way he is.”
“I’ve never wanted to say too much, but I have different emotions when I see your mother,” Elizabeth replied. “I think she’s had to carry more than she should have.”
Amy frowned. “What do you mean?”
Elizabeth sighed, then unfolded a small sequin that had become tucked against Amy’s neck. She rested her hand on Amy’s shoulder a moment, then drew back. “I think your father has a few more explanations to make to you and your brother. I sense that he’s ready to make them now, where he wouldn’t have been a few years ago. If you’re going to stay with her for a while, you need to have those things explained to you. Ask your father when you go home. Ask him to tell you more about your mother.” Elizabeth fussed and straightened, her fingers warm, caring.
“What are you talking about?” Amy felt a headache brewing behind her eyes. The same headache she had fought during the three days she’d spent at the Enders’s home. They kept talking about the wedding, finalizing plans, and she kept trying to work up enthusiasm for something she felt had gone way beyond her.
And now Elizabeth was hinting that there was unfinished business between her father and mother. She had too many things to think about.
“I’m sorry, Amy,” Elizabeth replied. “I stepped out of line.”
“No. You said exactly the same thing my mom said when I met her for coffee. She told me to ask Dad about her, to ask him to tell me what happened. What’s going on? What don’t I know?” Amy felt as if she was balancing very carefully on the edge of something, and she didn’t know where to step next.
Elizabeth pursed her lips, as if thinking. “I never knew before, so don’t think I’ve kept anything from you all this time. When Noreen came, I asked her a few point-blank questions.” Elizabeth quirked a half smile at Amy. “You know me. She answered them. But for now I’m only going to say that your father was right. Your mother did leave, but there’s more to the story than just that.” She stepped back, her voice holding a note of finality. “And now we’re going to change the subject and talk about your future instead of your past.” She knelt down and fluffed out the full skirt. “Did you find a place in Vancouver?”
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