by Heather Gray
"How do I always end up with more to take back than what I came with?" he asked with laughter in his voice. When the lines around his grandmother's eyes didn't lessen, he sat down on his bed and patted the spot beside him.
They sat in silence for a few moments, and then Grady reached out and put his arm around his grandmother's shoulders. "I love you, Gram. A boy couldn't have been blessed with a better grandmother than you. I will miss you while I'm gone, and I'll do my best not to stay away so long this time."
Tears began to trickle down Gram's cheeks. "I know, Grady. We'll keep in touch with letters like we always do, but that won't stop me from missing you. I'm sad every time you go, have been ever since you were a little tyke coming for visits. It was so good of your parents to make sure you got to spend time with us when you were growing up. Idaho is far from Texas, but they made sure we got to watch you grow up as much as we could, and I'll never stop being thankful for that."
Squeezing his grandmother's shoulders, Grady said, "You're still awfully glum. What else is going on?"
Turning to look up into Grady's slate-colored eyes, Gram answered, "I wish things weren't still so unsettled between you and Mary."
Hugging his grandmother to his side, Grady said, "Me, too, Gram. I've got to leave that in God's hands, though. He's given me a peace about it. I'd like you to give her a letter for me after I've gone."
"You're not going to say good-bye?"
"I will. I want this letter to wait a little bit is all. It feels like the right way to handle things."
"Okay. I'll deliver it to her after you've left. Are you going to be okay?"
Grady sighed, "My heart got more involved with Mary than I ever intended, there's no denying that. It makes leaving harder. All I can say, though, is God has given me peace. I know He cares more deeply about Mary than I do, and I trust He will do what's best for her."
"Is that business with the hotel going to work out?" asked Gram.
"Samuel and I talked at length. He's got a plan, and I think it's a good one. He's going to tell Mary about it when they next meet, which should be in a day or two. It'll be up to her to decide whether or not to take advantage of it."
"Will they be okay if she decides not to?"
Grady nodded and stood from the bed. "They will still survive if Mary turns him down. If she accepts the offer, though, they have a chance at doing better than surviving. It's a good offer, and I hope she takes it, but if she doesn't, they'll still be okay."
"Are you going to tell me what the offer is?"
"Not a chance," Grady said, grinning at his grandmother. "I have a feeling you and Gramps will be the first people she comes to see once Samuel makes the offer. She'll need good sound council."
Gram stood, and the two shared a long hug that spoke of love, devotion, and more. Grady would miss Gram something fierce.
Heading down the stairs, he carried his saddlebags. Talking to Gram always made him feel better. He wasn't lying when he said he was at peace about leaving right now. Saying so out loud to her had reminded him of that fact.
Grady stepped out on to the front porch to see his horse already saddled and ready to go. "You didn't have to do that, Gramps," he said, turning to the older man.
"It's my pleasure," Gramps said in return.
Grady secured his belongings to the saddle, checked the stirrups and buckle like he'd been taught to do since he was no taller than a Texas flea. Confident he and his horse were ready for travel, he stared hard at his grandfather, wanting to commit his image to memory. "I'll miss you, Gramps, but I'll stay in touch."
"I know you will."
"I'll be thinking about what you said, too."
"Good."
Seeing sadness akin to grief on his grandfather's face, Grady's heart squeezed in his chest. He gave his grandfather a long hard hug then stepped away and held out his hand for a manlier shake. Grady then mounted his horse and adjusted his hat. "You're always welcome here, son. Anytime," were his grandfather's parting words as Grady directed the horse to head toward the drive. He waved his arm in acknowledgement but didn't look back.
****
Gram came out the door and joined Gramps on the porch. He was wiping his eyes with his kerchief. She didn't bother wiping hers at all. "Every time he leaves," she said, her voice tremulous, "I have to accept the fact I may not see him again this side of heaven. So many things could happen."
Hugging his wife, he tried to reassure her, "At least we have the promise of heaven." Then, trying to break through the sadness blanketing their front porch, he said, "Besides, I have a feeling he'll be back."
****
Heading down the drive, Grady swiped at the tears coursing down his cheeks. He'd never given it any thought before, but his grandparents were getting older. What if it took him another four or five years before he got back here? They might not live that long. What if he got married and settled down with someone in Texas? It seemed inconceivable the way he felt now, but if that did happen, then the likelihood of his getting away to come see his grandparents was even slimmer.
Always in the past when he'd visited, he knew they were sad to see him go, and he was always sad to leave. For the first time he could recall, though, that sadness was not tempered by an excitement to return to Texas.
Blinking back his tears, Grady tried to focus on how grateful he was to have had his grandparents Wilkes in his life all these years. Then he walled off those emotions for later and headed up the drive to the Fitzgerald farm. It was time to say some more good-byes.
****
"Grady, Grady!" Gigi hollered, the first to spot his arrival. He'd told them he would be leaving and planned to stop by. At least this wouldn't be a shock to anybody. The boys came from the barn, and Lizzie stepped out onto the front porch. Grady didn't see Mary anywhere as he dismounted. He had made a point over the past couple of days to spend some one-on-one time with each of the children, telling them how proud he was of them and trying to offer them the encouragement they always seemed to need.
There was no way around it. Grady was worried about them. He knew the Bible said not to worry, but he couldn't seem to help it. With him gone, who would tell them they could accomplish anything they wanted? Who would take the time to teach them the little things, like how to use a spade and how important it was to keep the drive cleared of debris and ruts?
Glad to see Clive and Bobby had settled their differences, Grady greeted the boys with a nod. Gripping Bobby's hand firmly, Grady was pleased by the solid grasp he received in return. "Bobby, you keep up your grades, and you help your brother and sisters with their schoolwork whenever they need it. Some of those things that might be easy for you aren't always as easy for others."
"Yes, sir." Bobby seemed to stand a bit taller than a moment ago.
Turning to Clive, Grady held out his hand, "Clive, you're the man of the house. You've got a responsibility to help take care of everyone, but you can't go demanding everyone do things your way. Give the others a chance, too. Sometimes they have good ideas, and sometimes they need to learn on their own that those ideas need some work."
"Yes, sir." Grady knew Clive still held some deep resentment and anger down inside of him, but he was confident the boy would not turn out anything like his father.
Grady put a hand on Clive's shoulder and said, "There's an old story here in Larkspur about the day the town went swimming. You should ask about it sometime. What you learn might surprise you." Clive gave Grady a puzzled look, but he moved on before the boy had a chance to ask what he meant.
Grady didn't even get to take a step before Gigi hurled herself into his arms. Tears coursing down her face, she cried out, "Don't leave us, Grady! What'll we do without you?"
Grady's breath caught in his throat at the same time he felt himself swallowing back a smile at Gigi's theatrics. Holding her in a tight hug, he told her, "Gigi, you'll be fine. You and your brothers and sisters will take care of each other."
"But who will play with me? W
ho will tell me it's okay to get dirty?"
Grady pulled away far enough to make eye contact with the girl in his arms. "Margaret Fitzgerald, you give Mary a chance, okay? She is still learning what life can be like now that your pa is gone. Maybe she needs someone to play with her and to tell her it's okay to get dirty. You are smarter than anyone here gives you credit for, and your family needs you. They may not put you to work plowing a field yet, but you're still important. I expect you to help them all remember to take time to play and be silly. It's a big responsibility. Do you think you can handle it?"
Sighing dramatically, Gigi said, "Okay, but you have to promise to tell me funny stories when you write in case I need ideas."
"Deal," he said solemnly.
"I'm gonna miss you Grady." Big crocodile tears began welling up in Gigi's eyes again.
Grady hugged her tight and choked out, "Me, too, Gigi."
Setting Gigi down, he saw Lizzie standing there, scuffing her toe in the dirt. He remembered how he'd recently seen Clive doing that same thing. Reaching out and tugging on one of Lizzie's bright red braids, he asked, "Do I get a hug?"
Lizzie crumbled right there in front of him. Deep, wrenching sobs wracked her body. This little girl, who was often much more quiet than her siblings, seemed to carry the world on her shoulders. She understood the inner workings of people more than many adults, let alone any children, normally did. Grady picked Lizzie up in his arms, held her tight, and gave her the best hug he could give her. Finally getting her tears under control, she said, so only he could hear, "I love you, Grady. I don't want you to go."
Eyes burning with tears of his own, he told her tenderly, "I love you, too, Lizzie. You're like a sister to me. You know what's really special, though?" When she viewed him sadly, he said, "You kind of are my sister, right? We're both children of God, and that makes us part of a special family. No matter where I go, and no matter where you go, we will always be kin in that special way."
"I'm going to miss you so much. You promised to write. You'll keep your word, won't you?"
"Lizzie, dear, if I get trampled by a raging bull and every bone in my body is broken, I'll still find a way to send letters."
Giggling a touch, Lizzie said, "You might have to dictate your letter if every bone is broken." She drew the word out in imitation of her little sister's dramatic speech.
"You going to be okay?" Grady asked her.
Sniffing, she nodded. "We're family. You said so," Lizzie said matter-of-factly. "And family sticks together. We might be separated for a while, but you'll come back. Just like Bobby will after he goes to medical school."
With a nod and another quick hug, Grady set Lizzie down and then turned to look for Mary. She had come out the front door but remained up on the porch. Grady walked over to the porch stairs but did not ascend. "Mary," he said with a nod of deference. She was cast in shadow by the porch roof, so he couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw sadness in depths of her indigo eyes. Perhaps she would miss him after all.
"Grady," she replied.
"I'm going to get going now. I think y'all are set for winter. We got the house patched up real good, so you shouldn't have the bad winter winds coming through this year, but if they do, the boys know how to take care of it now."
Mary nodded. "Thank you."
"No problem. Merely bein' neighborly."
"I never did make you that strawberry pie. I'm sorry."
Grady wanted to believe Mary was thanking him for more than his help around the farm and apologizing for more than a missing pie, but he was afraid it was nothing more than wishful thinking on his part. "No worries, ma'am. I enjoyed the sweet potato pie, minced meat pie, peach pie, apple pie, cherry pie, creamed sugar pie…" Grady's voice trailed off when he saw the smile begin to peak out from behind Mary's shuttered eyes.
"Travel safe," she said, her voice like warm honey.
This time he was certain. Her eyes were speaking to him, even if she didn't realize it. Knowing there was nothing he could do about what he saw there, he said, "I will, Mary, never fear. And remember, Gram and Gramps are up the road if you ever need anything. They like feeling useful. Even if all you need is advice, they're good folks to talk to. I should know." Grady winked at Mary, then spun around and walked back to his horse. Mounting up, he gave his horse a soft "hayup," and waved goodbye to everyone as he headed down the drive. The four youngest Fitzgerald children ran after him waving their arms and yelling, "Bye Grady!" "Be safe!" "Write soon!" "We'll miss you!"
Before hitting the trail to head down toward Pocatello Junction and on to Salt Lake, Grady had one stop to make in town. He picked up some paper and envelopes from the mercantile. He'd promised to write letters.
His reluctance to leave was about his grandparents and those kids who'd come to mean so much to him. It had nothing to do with the way Mary's skirt normally nipped in at the waist and emphasized the gentle sway of her hips or the sad look in her blue eyes as she'd said goodbye to him. She had made it more than clear how she felt about him.
I'd have to be a fool to think she was going to miss me…
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next morning came, and Mary reluctantly got up and readied herself to go into town. Today was the day she was due back to meet with Mr. Livingston. She didn't feel like walking into town, but she stood before the small, chipped looking glass and smoothed her hair into its bun anyway. When she was done, she saw Lizzie sitting there on the bed, sadness wrapped tightly around her the way a blanket is wrapped around a newborn to keep it still.
Lizzie looked as miserable as she felt facing their first full day without Grady. Even though he hadn't been around as much, she'd still found comfort knowing he was nearby. She hadn't realized how hard it would be to know he was nowhere nearby. Inspiration struck. "Lizzie, would you like to come with me to my meeting?"
Brightness lightly touched the girl's face, and Lizzie nodded. "Is what I'm wearing okay?"
"I think you look perfect for a business meeting in the middle of a street at a construction site." At Lizzie's puzzled look, Mary winked and said, "You'll see."
After quickly making breakfast for her family, Mary told them Lizzie was accompanying her to her meeting in town today. When Gigi put up a fuss, Mary told her, "You and I will do something together, the two of us, in the next day or so. Right now is my time with Lizzie." Gigi, a thoughtful look on her face, stopped complaining.
Lizzie remained sad during the walk into town. Mary tried several times to start a conversation, but Lizzie's answers were monosyllabic.
"It's beautiful weather we're having, wouldn't you say?"
"Yes."
"Nobody ever did give me a straight answer about how the boys got so bruised up the other day."
"Hm."
"They seem to have worked things out."
"Yes."
Lizzie wasn't usually out of sorts like this. Mary reached down and took the girl's hand. She began swinging their joined hands back and forth as she started humming a tune she remembered from their mother. After a couple bars, Mary began singing the song, "Troubles come and go, love. Brightest scenes must leave our sight. But the star of hope, love, shines with radiant beams tonight."
"What's that from?" Lizzie asked.
"Ma used to sing it us when she was still alive. I had forgotten it until now. I think it's called Twinkling Stars Are Laughing."
"Do you believe in a star of hope?"
Not sure quite how to answer her sister, Mary finally said, "I don't believe a star has any special power of hope, but I am beginning to believe in the idea of hope in general."
Having no idea why Lizzie liked her answer so much, Mary was just happy to see the girl beaming at her. Some of her sister's gloominess seemed to evaporate into the air.
Mary still refused to make eye contact with anyone as they got into town. She knew she couldn't blame these people forever for slights she may have imagined, but, for right now, she could handle no more than one issue at a t
ime. Today was a day for business. Tomorrow she could spend time on self-reflection if need be.
As they approached the hotel-in-progress, Lizzie exclaimed, "Oh Mary, look! It's huge! An entire town could live in that thing!"
"I'm glad you like it, little lady. My name is Samuel Livingston, hotel owner extraordinaire. You must be one of Mary's lovely sisters." Samuel bowed and held out his hand for Lizzie's. She shyly placed her hand in his, and he brushed his lips across the back of it. Lizzie giggled and stepped behind Mary, hiding herself with her sister's skirt, as soon as her hand was released. Samuel stood back up, smiled at Mary, and held out his hand. When she eyed his hand dubiously, he laughed, "A handshake, honest. I was going to shake your hand."
Once the pleasantries were dispensed with, Samuel showed the ladies to his table. In the middle of the road. In front of a construction site. Lizzie didn't say a word, but her eyes danced as they connected with Mary's. Samuel excused himself momentarily to fetch another crate since his makeshift table was built for only two.
When Samuel got himself settled on a worn out crate that gave the impression it was even more rickety than the ones they were sitting on, Mary jumped right in. "I believe I can purchase another cow, but I cannot purchase two cows. If I spend all of my money on the cow, there won't be any money left for bottles, strainers or any of the other items required to provide milk for the hotel. While I would very much like to do business with you, as I have a family for whom I need to provide, I am not able to meet the conditions you have set forth. Hopefully this will not affect the produce or egg agreement we came to last week."
Samuel, who was bedecked today in a bright orange vest, nodded to Mary and said, "That agreement still stands, but I do have a proposition I would like to discuss with you."