Just Dessert

by Heather Gray

  Grady decided this would not be the best time to point out that her willingness to marry anyone, including a ninety-year-old man, to escape her father, contradicted her claim of how grand life had been. Her rant continued, "You came in here and ruined it all! You turned everything upside down, and now you're trying to take my family from me!"

  Holding up his arms in surrender, Grady backed up a step. Her words were malicious, but she looked so broken. Mary continued, "First, you started taking Bobby to church! Then Lizzie! And my girls – MY GIRLS – love your grandmother more than they love me! Of course she has time to love on them and play with them – she's not trying to run a farm and protect them all the time!" Not used to being the focus of so much intense emotion, Grady's muscles instinctively tensed as he felt heat rising within him. He wanted to yell at her to be reasonable at the same time that he wanted to hold her and protect her from all her troubles.

  Mary's rant continued. "And you – you're Mr. Fun! You always have time for them, and you make them laugh, and they love you for it!" The raw pain in Mary's voice washed over him, washing away every angry retort he might have uttered. "What am I left with!? Nothing! I am going to grow old alone because they are all going to leave me, if not for you or your grandmother, then for someone else who comes along! Tell me where your God is in all of this!? You may think he's making things better, but I'll tell you the truth," Mary shouted, finally stepping close enough to truly jab Grady in the chest. "Your God is ruining my life!"

  Not knowing what else to do, Grady wrapped his arms around Mary and tried to still her. He didn't talk; he didn't try to rub her back or soothe her. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her in a tight enough hug to prevent her from physically lashing out. Though gently done, he forced her to keep still. Her body began to quake.

  Mary started out with small shuddering cries, but before long, they were bone-shaking sobs. Grady, who had seen the soul-deep anguish on her face, figured she had quite a bit to cry for, starting with her mother, who she'd never been allowed to properly mourn.

  In light of the sheriff's words this morning, Mary had realized the idealized view she had of who her father once was needed to be laid to rest. Although it wasn't necessary, she was quite probably also grieving for the family she felt she was losing. Grady held her tight as she sobbed into his shirtfront. He would have offered her a kerchief but was afraid to let go of her.

  Grady had no idea how much time passed, but after a while, Mary's sobs quieted, and she stood still in his awkward embrace. Wondering why she wasn't trying to break out of his grip, Grady pulled away far enough to look down into her face. Mary had fallen sound asleep standing within the circle of his arms.

  Emotions coursed through Grady: grief for the bright-eyed girl Mary had once been; anger toward the man whose brutality had shaped her into the woman she'd become; concern for the children who would be lost without their big sister; an overwhelming desire to protect her… from what he didn't know.

  Knowing he had to give this over to God, he silently prayed as he stood there holding this precious woman.

  Lord, You know all things. I know You're here. You've always been here with Mary and her family. I don't understand why their lives had to be so hard. Lord, I am on such thin ice here. I love this family, all of them. I care about each of them in a special and different way. You have guarded my heart for me when I wasn't even sure I wanted it guarded. You have kept me from falling head over heels in love with this woman. That control is slipping, though. I don't know how to fight it. Please reach out to her. Draw Mary to you, Lord. I don't think I'm strong enough to remain only a friend and neighbor. Help us both.

  Tears burned at the backs of Grady's eyes as he finished praying. Feeling weak, he lifted Mary into his arms and carried her upstairs to her room. He laid her pale form down in her bed and covered her with a quilt. Her violent sweeping and arm-swinging had shaken most of her hair loose from its pins. Much as he wanted to, Grady didn't touch it. He eyed the waves of burnished cinnamon and forced his hand back to his side. Leaving Mary there, he walked out of her room and out of the house.

  Grady mounted his horse and headed for home. Afraid of how much that small intimacy might affect him, he hadn't even removed her shoes.

  ****

  Mary woke in her own bed. Confusion muddled her thoughts for a few minutes before she sat bolt upright. Had she really said all those terrible things to Grady? Had she screamed at him about how awful God was to be doing all of this to her? Had she caused the hurt in those beautiful grey eyes?

  Oh no.

  Fearing he would never set foot on her property again, Mary put her hand to her stomach as she began to feel sick. She moved swiftly from her bed to the chamber pot. There was nothing in her stomach to lose, but she heaved endlessly, each retch feeling to her like a hammer blow on a coffin.

  I've really gone and done it now.

  ****

  After the scene with Mary, Grady tried to decide what he should do. He thought he should keep the kids with him until after supper and then bring them home. All of the kids, though, despite his grandparents' best efforts, were starting to get antsy as evening approached. They tried not to be obvious, but he could see them each looking off into the trees toward their own home. He knew they had to be worried about Mary.

  Gram gracefully stepped in and took the decision out of Grady's hands. "Kids, what do you say we bring supper over to Mary? If one of you will run ahead and let her know we're coming, we will load some food up into the wagon and follow. That way you can have supper with your sister, but she doesn't have to worry about cooking."

  While the kids eagerly accepted Gram's plan, Grady saw concern on Lizzie's face. Grady sat down in a chair next to where the girl stood and asked, "What's on your mind?"

  Lizzie, her look imploring, said, "We don't have enough dishes and flatware."

  Grady had noticed, the times he ate with them, there weren't enough utensils to go around. They generally made do, some using a fork, others using a spoon, but there certainly wouldn't be enough for the entire family plus Grady and his grandparents. Tweaking Lizzie on the nose, Grady winked at her. "I'll take care of it. Anything else I should know?"

  "Chairs," Lizzie said, barely above a whisper.

  Nodding, Grady said, "I can handle that. Anything else?"

  When Lizzie shook her head no, Grady put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Are you sure? Now's the time to speak up if there is."

  "No, that's everything. You don't think your grandparents will mind, do you?"

  Incredulously, Grady said, "You don't know Gram and Gramps very well if you have to ask."

  "Your Gram's the best," Lizzie said. After Mary's rant earlier, these words struck a discordant note with Grady that must have shown on his face. Lizzie rushed on, "I mean, I think you're great too, and I know she's your Gram, and I wouldn't want to take her away from you or anything."

  "Can I tell you something just between us?" Grady asked. When Lizzie nodded, he told her, "My gram is the best grandmother a body could ask for. In fact, I'm blessed to have two wonderful grandmothers – one here in Idaho and one down in Texas. You, however, are blessed to have a wonderful older sister, and it might be a good idea if you mention to her now and again how great you think she is or how much you appreciate what she does for you."

  Lizzie's eyes widened a bit before she finally nodded said, "I'll be sure to tell her more often. I know she does a lot, and I forget to tell her so."

  With a wink for the little girl, Grady arose and went into the kitchen to pull some extra dishes and utensils down.

  Clive had already taken off to let Mary know they were coming. Grady hoped Mary was awake and feeling better from her cry earlier. His preference would have been to put off seeing Mary until tomorrow because his heart felt too bruised right now. The choice had been taken from him, however. Whether or not he thought it was a good idea for him to see Mary again so soon no longer mattered.

&nb
sp; At least he wouldn't be seeing her alone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Supper went much more smoothly than Grady expected. Mary had been awake when they arrived and greeted everyone warmly. She refused to speak to or make eye contact with Grady, but the attention she lavished on everyone else made up for it. Grady hoped he was the only one who noticed Mary avoiding him.

  The ride back home with Gram and Gramps after the meal was filled with idle chatter between the older couple. Once they arrived back at their own farm and got the horses bedded down, though, Gramps cleared his throat and said, "Grady, I'd like you to join us on the porch, if you don't mind."

  Grady, who wanted nothing more than to be alone in his own room so he could try to sort through his thoughts and feelings said, "Yes, sir."

  Gram brought them each out a glass of tea, and the three settled into their rocking chairs. As always, Grady sat in the middle with Gramps to the left and Gram to the right, nearest the door. It had been this way for as many years as Grady could remember. He sometimes wondered where the two sat when he wasn't with them. Somehow he doubted they sat on opposite ends of the porch with an empty chair between them.

  "So," Gramps said, "you want to tell us what made you bring the young'uns here today?"

  "We don't mind none," Gram spoke up, a worried smile accompanying the words, "but we do want to understand what's goin' on."

  Grady told them what he knew of the sheriff's visit and Mary's faint and how she had been acting oddly this morning before returning to bed. "I thought bringing them here would help distract them so they wouldn't be so worried about her."

  "Makes sense," Gramps said.

  "They're welcome anytime, you know," reiterated Gram.

  Grady knew how these conversations went. Gramps paused before he broached the next subject he wanted to discuss. The pattern of Gramps' conversation was like a comfortable blanket to Grady. It was familiar and comforting, something he knew well. "So then, what happened when you went back this afternoon?"

  As much as he loved his grandfather and the familiarity such conversations bred, Grady couldn't help himself from doing the same thing he'd done since he was about Lizzie's age. He tried to disrupt Gramps' rhythm. "How did Clive do this afternoon?"

  "The boy did fine. Reminds me of you at that age. Now stop changing the subject and tell us what happened when you went back this afternoon."

  Smiling at the predictable response, Grady relayed his afternoon conversation with Mary. As he told them the things Mary had said, the smile left his face and his voice grew increasingly somber. He told them everything, including how he carried her up to bed. Wanting to keep that topic off limits for now, he left out any mention of his feelings. Gramps, of course, had other plans.

  "You're falling for her, aren't you?"

  Not willing to lie, Grady answered, "Yep."

  "What you goin' t' do about it?" Gramps asked.

  "What do you think I should do?" Grady asked, his tone landing somewhere between irritation and curiosity.

  "I think you ought to keep your distance," Gramps said. "That ain't possible around here, though. Things are too muddied up for that. Be smart. We'll be praying for God to give you a solution."

  "At least now you know why she's so angry," Gram said. Both men looked as if she'd suggested they bathe with a skunk. "Men," Gram said with a half-hearted chuckle. Her grey eyes, so like Grady's, shone as she looked at him with sympathy. "It's clear as day she's afraid of losing her brothers and sisters. That's why she resists them going to church or spending time with God and why she's never thrilled to have them over here. That's why she resents the time you spend with them, Grady. She's afraid they will all choose someone – or something – besides her and she'll be abandoned by them. Whether she sees it or not, she probably felt abandoned by her ma, maybe even her pa. Things haven't been easy for her. Having those kids there gives her security and purpose. The way she sees it, if she loses them, what does she have?"

  Grady swiveled his head from Gram to Gramps to see if the older man thought this was as far-fetched as he did. Gramps avoided eye contact and sipped his tea. Turning back around to look at his grandmother, he said, "It makes no sense, though. Her family's not leaving her. I thought maybe she was upset about something else and didn't want to say what, so she just went on about the first thing that came to mind."

  Gram shook her head, and a couple strands of her white hair fell loose to frame her face. "You learned that from your ma, didn't you? She used to do that." When he nodded, she continued, "Give it some thought, Grady. If you do, you'll see I'm right."

  When the front door closed behind Gram, Gramps finally made eye contact. "Sleep on it. I find she's usually right about these things. Women see things differently than men. If a woman's ranting at you about something, there's a pretty good chance another woman will understand what all the fuss is about long before you will."

  "I thought she was angry at the sheriff," Grady said, "and taking it out on me because I happened to be there."

  "You got a lot o' learnin' to do about women folk, Grady. Have you ever wondered why Mary seems to get angry at you but no one else?"

  Grady scratched his head and said, "I figured I riled her somehow and thought it would get better if I decided not to fight back."

  "I'd guess there's more to it than that," Gramps said, as he rose from his seat. "Think on what your grandmother said and maybe ask yourself why it seems you bring out the worst in Mary."

  Grady remained on the porch long after his grandparents had retired for the night. Both Gram's words and Mary's yelling kept swirling around inside his head until, eventually, Gram's words superimposed themselves over the top of Mary's yelling. Mentally sorting through the conversations, he replayed them both in his mind.

  "Ma hid things from us."

  "She felt abandoned by her ma."

  "Pa was a murderer!"

  "She felt abandoned by…her pa."

  "We were fine until you came along! You ruined everything!"

  "She resents the time you spend with them."

  "You're trying to take my family!"

  "She's afraid of losing her brothers and sisters."

  "You started taking Bobby to church!"

  "She's afraid of losing her brothers."

  "Then Lizzie!"

  "And sisters."

  "You always have time for them, and they love you for it!"

  "She's afraid of losing her brothers and sisters."

  "What am I left with!?"

  "She's afraid of losing her brothers and sisters."

  "I am going to grow old alone."

  "She's afraid of losing her brothers and sisters."

  "They are all going to leave me."

  "She's afraid of losing her brothers and sister."

  "Your God is ruining my life!"

  Jerkily, Grady came to a standing position in front of his rocking chair. Her behavior over these past months hadn't always been rational, but he'd assumed it was because of her father, or today the sheriff. When she'd accused him of trying to take her siblings, he hadn't understood the magnitude of what that meant to her because he couldn't understand the depth of her fear. He ran his hand over his face in the age-old I-can't-believe-I-didn't-see-it gesture.

  Chapter Nineteen

  August 1878

  The rest of the summer passed without much fuss. Mary avoided Grady as much as possible. He, in turn, didn't seem interested in discussing her outburst. It was never brought up, and she told herself she was fine with that. It was only late at night after everyone was in bed and the work was done for the day that she would sit and stare at the stars. It was in those still moments that she was able to admit to herself how much she missed hearing the teasing lilt in Grady's voice.

  Mary and the boys still couldn't carry the workload alone with the additional fields they'd planted, though, and that left her with little choice but to continue accepting Grady's help. She didn't know how to go about selling the grain
or any of the rest of it without him either.

  In years past they'd always grown corn. They had canned almost all of it, storing as much as they could to help meet their needs through the winter. Harvest from the previous years was miniscule compared to what they were bringing in this year, though. Grady's techniques had tripled their productivity.

  Mary had more or less put Clive in charge of working with Grady to handle whatever business came up. She made a point to be there when labor was needed, but she allowed Clive to handle, under Grady's supervision, all negotiations. Without a train nearby, they had limited choices. Storing food for their own use was their top priority, and selling what they could to the mercantile came after.

  Grady helped the boys dig out more of their root cellar. Together they shored up the walls, got rid of spiders, and made it a nice cozy place for the remaining potatoes and onions to spend the winter. Mary worried the produce would end up rotting down there.

  When she expressed this concern to Clive, he shook his head and said, "Mary, stop fussing about it. It'll be fine. If we don't sell it, we'll eat a lot of it ourselves. There's no reason the mercantile won't buy, though. I've already been in and talked to them. We settled on a price and made arrangements for the entire winter. Grady was smart when he picked our crops. Nobody else around here was going to provide them with onions or potatoes, so we're sitting pretty."