by Lyn Cote
Still, she reached it first, opened the back hatch and laid out the soft, navy-blue blanket she kept there. “Lay her here.” Eleanor’s heart continued doing flip-flops.
Pete obeyed, resting his hand on his daughter’s head, crooning to her soothingly.
“Miss Ellie,” Cassie whimpered, “Miss Ellie, my arm hurts. A bee stinged me.”
“Don’t worry,” Eleanor said as she opened the white plastic first aid box, people crowding around them, pressing close, too close. Feeling suffocated by their nearness, Eleanor waved them back. “I have everything I need to take care of you, Cassie,” she said in a steady voice. “You’re going to be all right.”
“It hurts,” Cassie said, breathing hard and fast.
“I know. I’ve been stung.” Eleanor drew out the bottle of Benadryl spray. “This will help you.” She held Cassie’s soft, chubby, little arm outstretched and sprayed some on the sting, just below the elbow fold. Eleanor saw no evidence of a stinger, so it hadn’t been a honey bee sting. Maybe a yellow jacket.
Cassie whimpered, holding her bottom lip with her teeth.
“Would you like me to give her some acetaminophen to help with the pain, Pete?” she asked softly.
“Yes.” He hovered over his child, stroking her coppery-blond hair. “Do you have any children’s strength—”
“I do.” She opened the fresh bottle and poured a transparent purple dose into the tiny, plastic cup provided. Quaking inside, she forced her hands not to shake. “Now, sweetheart, this should taste just like grape jelly.”
With Pete supporting her head, Cassie sipped it all and then shuddered with a heavy sigh. Pete let her head rest on the blanket again. Cassie’s face began to look better, and she breathed without difficulty.
Pete exhaled. “I thought of the E.R. right away because I had a student who was stung, and he blew up in minutes. I just got him to there in time.”
“I think Cassie is going to be fine,” Eleanor said firmly to reassure the child. The little girl wasn’t showing any signs of anaphylactic shock. Eleanor stroked Cassie’s tear-wet face with a tissue, her own tension draining away, too. “Cassie, you’re feeling better already, aren’t you?”
Cassie let out another deep sigh and then nodded.
Eleanor whispered into Pete’s ear, “You should watch her carefully for the next few hours, just to be sure.”
Nodding, he accepted a blue, disposable ice pack and began to shake it so the chemicals would release the cold while Eleanor applied the antibiotic cream. “That takes care of it.” Exhaling deeply drained away the last of her tension, leaving her feeling used up. “Whew. Too much excitement.” She stepped back, pressing a tissue to the perspiration on her forehead.
“No!” Cassie objected, reaching for her. “Miss Ellie. I want Miss Ellie.”
Eleanor reached for her hand. “You’re going to be okay now. I promise.”
“Want you.” Cassie held up her arms to Eleanor once again. Eleanor looked to Pete for his approval. He nodded.
A deep emotion Eleanor had not experienced often swept through her, tugging at her. The desire to shelter and comfort this sweet child awed Eleanor. What had she done to deserve this? Stifling the urge to kiss Cassie’s hair, she helped Cassie sit up. “You’re a big girl—”
The abrasive roar of the Harley shattered the quiet.
Caught off guard, Eleanor cried out, “Oh!” and turned.
Taking advantage of the commotion, Luis had slipped onto the motorcycle and had started the motor.
Pete swallowed a few words better left unsaid. And ran flat out. Still, his brother Mike passed him.
“Turn off that motor!” Mike roared. “Get off my bike!”
Luis grinned and revved the motor a few more times. Just as Mike reached him, the kid cut the motor.
Mike pulled him off the bike. He relentlessly backed him up against the nearest, large oak tree. Luis stumbled on an exposed tree root, falling back and hitting the tree trunk. The force jerked the wind from him. The kid gasped and staggered to his feet.
“Don’t you ever do that again.” Mike placed one hand on Luis’s chest, holding the teen against the tree trunk, not hurting him but preventing him from leaving.
Pete halted a few paces from his brother. Better to let Luis reap what his misbehavior had sown. It would pack more punch.
“Who do you think you are to mess with my bike?” Mike demanded.
“Hey, man,” Luis said, trying to grin, “I didn’t hurt the bike. I just wanted the feel of the bike, you know?”
With a fierce glance, Mike excoriated this stupid comment. “I know you’re just a kid—”
Luis’s face reddened.
“But you should know better than to get on somebody’s bike uninvited.” Mike leaned forward, nose to nose. “And that motor has one hundred and twenty-eight horsepower and could have taken off with you. Then I’d have been left with a wrecked bike and you’d have been left just plain wrecked. No helmet. No leathers.”
The teen began to look shaken. Pete stepped forward. “Luis, I think you should apologize to Mike.”
“I’m sorry, man. I’ll never do it again.” Luis held up one hand as if he were taking an oath in court. “Never.”
“Me, neither,” Colby added in a thin voice nearby.
Mike glanced back and forth between the two teens. “My brother is probably way too easy on you two. But okay.” He released Luis.
Freed, Luis slid down the tree trunk, caught himself and glared at Mike. Then he turned and stalked toward Pete’s truck. Colby followed, running to catch up with him.
Mike pinned Pete with his gaze and then winked.
Pete shook his head. He turned to find Cassie back in Eleanor’s arms. He didn’t like the worried expression on Eleanor’s face. Why had the kid pulled this stunt right here in front of her and half the town? But what could Pete do? He’d have to watch these kids all the time—to get them through this summer and into the community college this August. He held out his arms to receive his daughter.
Cassie turned her face into Eleanor’s neck and tightened her hold on the woman.
Already disgruntled over Luis, Pete prayed for patience. Today was only the first morning of the first week of summer break. I must keep these teens too busy for mischief like this. Earlier and again now, Ms. Washburn had made it clear with her words, voice and expression. She wouldn’t put up with immature behavior from these two. The house came first with her. Luis and Colby came first with him. A tricky difference in goals.
“Cassie,” Eleanor coaxed gently, “your dad is ready to take you with him.”
Cassie shook her head, her face still buried against Eleanor’s neck, and emitted a negative sound in the back of her throat. “Uh-uh.”
Eleanor looked to him, lifting her eyebrows in silent query.
He pressed his lips together. How could he persuade Cassie away from Eleanor without a scene?
“I have a suggestion,” Rosa spoke up. “Why doesn’t Eleanor follow you to where you’re taking the boys to apply for a job? She can perhaps buy Cassie a treat there? She’s been such a brave girl.”
The woman stroked Cassie’s back. “Eleanor, I’ll stay here and finish up getting all the contact info and giving out Habitat brochures and work schedules to volunteers. I’ll bring the information to you later.”
Now Pete raised his eyebrow, asking Eleanor for her opinion, not wanting to put her on the spot.
“I think that’s a good idea,” Eleanor conceded. “I was going to have to go into my office soon, anyway. Where are you going, Pete?”
“We’re heading to Dairy Queen first and then A&W.”
“I’ll close up my hatch and follow you there. And, oh, I’ll need Cassie’s car seat.” She headed toward her car.
“Okay. I’ll get it for you. Thanks.” He hurried toward his pickup.
“I’ll close up your hatch,” Mike offered.
Eleanor nodded and carried Cassie to the passenger side of her Tr
ailblazer and opened the backseat door. Soon Pete hooked the booster seat in place, and Mike slammed the back hatch shut. Eleanor gave Pete a little smile and then settled Cassie in the car.
After hooking Cassie into her seat, Pete laid the ice pack on her outstretched arm. “You be good, and I’ll see you at Dairy Queen.”
Cassie nodded and yawned. All the excitement had taken its toll. Pete walked away, hoping that this scene wouldn’t repeat itself when Eleanor tried to leave Dairy Queen.
Why did complications keep cropping up? He’d had a simple plan to keep Luis and Colby busy this summer, do some good and take care of his family. Now, because of Cassie’s instant liking of Eleanor, he’d have to handle that. He didn’t want a pretty woman bobbing up this summer. I’m not made of rock.
Passing by fields of wisps of green corn seedlings, Pete drove toward the Dairy Queen on the state highway outside of town. The atmosphere in the cab of his pickup could only be termed sullen. Mike had stripped the cocky starch from the two teens. Both sat slumped with their heads down, not looking at him or each other. Pete kept his mouth shut tight, holding in prickly words. What had Luis been thinking?
Pete also wondered why Cassie had taken to Eleanor so quickly. Was it because she missed having a mom? The question shoved a sharp arrowhead into Pete’s heart.
“You’re really mad at us, aren’t you?” Colby asked quietly.
Pete glanced to the right at them. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know why your brother got so put out,” Luis said, pouting like a four-year-old. “I didn’t hurt his bike.”
“If it was your bike—” Pete chose his words with care “—would you let just anybody climb on it without asking first?”
Luis shrugged and wouldn’t meet Pete’s gaze.
“Be a man,” Pete barked, his patience snapping at this sign of stubborn immaturity. “Admit when you’re wrong. You think you’re fooling anybody?”
Luis’s face reddened, and he tossed a resentful look Pete’s way.
“You’ve got to grow up this summer, Luis. And you, too, Colby. If you let yourself think and act like you’re still kids, you’re going to get into real trouble. You’re both eighteen now, and you won’t go to juvenile court anymore. You’ll be judged as adults, as men. You have to think before you act or…”
Neither teen replied. Pete fell silent again. He looked into his rearview mirror and glimpsed Eleanor’s dark green Trailblazer. The big red Dairy Queen sign loomed ahead, and his tension tightened. Would these two teens make a mess of applying for jobs, too?
He pulled into the parking lot, bounded by a Christmas-tree farm on two sides. The dashboard clock read 10:58 a.m. He’d hoped to get here earlier, before they opened for business. Without a word, the three of them got out and went to the employee’s side entrance. Listening for Eleanor to arrive, Pete remained in the background. Colby told the stocky, middle-aged, woman manager that they’d come to apply for jobs.
She eyed them, obviously assessing them. “You haven’t worked here before.”
“No, but we worked at the hot dog stand at the county fair the last four years,” Colby replied.
“I’ll still have to train you. Dairy Queen takes more know-how than merely handing people hot dogs.” She turned toward a white-board scheduling chart hanging on the wall by the door. “You two can fill out applications, and then I’ll call you to come and train. I’ll tell you up front, I’m already full for the summer. But I can put you on the backup list. Somebody usually has to quit, and then I’ll need someone. Okay?”
From the corner of his eye, Pete observed Eleanor arrive and park. Turning back to the teens, he grimly recalled his attempts to get these teens out to apply for summer jobs earlier. Had Luis and Colby purposely avoided this so they’d be too late to get anything?
“There’s your daddy,” Eleanor said from behind him.
He turned to her. Cassie was holding Eleanor’s hand. His daughter’s face had relaxed, and her flushed cheeks has faded to normal. He opened his arms, but Cassie shrank back against Eleanor. He sucked down his exasperation. Cassie didn’t usually behave this way. What had sparked this?
“Is it all right if I get her a baby cone?” Eleanor asked. “I don’t want to spoil her lunch, but after being stung…” Her voice trailed off.
He dug into his pocket and handed Eleanor a few bills.
She waved the money away. “My treat. Would you like anything?”
As if on cue, his stomach rumbled.
“Let me guess, chocolate, large?” she said, grinning suddenly.
He grinned reluctantly in return and patted his waistline. “I’m not a teen anymore. Make that a medium.”
Walking away, she chuckled and tossed him a smile over her shoulder.
When he turned back, Luis and Colby were filling out applications on clipboards. The intense concentration on both their faces caused Pete to grin to himself. They didn’t need him. He hurried to catch up with the ladies.
Soon the three of them were sitting down at a picnic table in front of Dairy Queen. Cars had already pulled up, and the lunch rush was on. Eleanor licked a vanilla cone and Cassie a much smaller, chocolate one. He began making short work of his own. He wished he could think of some small talk, but gazing into Eleanor’s green eyes, his mind had gone blank.
“I think it’s wonderful that you’re taking an interest in Luis and Colby. They need a strong man in their lives,” Eleanor said.
Pete shrugged. “They have potential.”
She nodded. “I wish I could interest more teens in participating in the Habitat project. They have so much energy and could benefit so much from learning building skills. Are there any other of your students who would have time to help us out?”
“I hadn’t thought about that,” he admitted.
“Miss Ellie, do you got any kids?” Cassie asked.
Eleanor smiled but looked pained.
Pete wondered why.
“No, no kids,” Eleanor replied. She looked as if she might say more, then her cell phone rang. Holding up one finger, she dug it out of her purse.
He watched her expression become serious. Cassie stopped licking her cone to gaze at Eleanor, too. He took a napkin Eleanor had put on the table and wiped Cassie’s ice-cream face.
Eleanor snapped the phone shut and sighed. “This has been lovely, but I’ve been called in on a case. I have to go, Cassie.”
“No—”
Eleanor caught Cassie’s free hand. “I have to go, honey. Somebody needs my help so they don’t go to jail.”
“Jail? For bad people? Like on TV?” Cassie asked.
“Yes, Cassie. I will see you again.” Eleanor rose, then reached over, touched Cassie’s nose and smiled.
Pete stood, too. “Thanks for taking care of my girl. You know, with the bee sting.” He offered her his hand.
She shook it. “I was glad I was able to help,” she said, holding on to his hand, then releasing it abruptly.
Cassie looked downhearted. Pete rested his hand on her shoulder.
“Bye, Cassie. And Pete, please think over what I said about involving more of your students.” Eleanor waved and headed toward her car. Her cell phone again to her ear, she walked briskly to her car.
Cassie’s gaze followed Eleanor till her Trailblazer vanished around a bend in the road. Pete wondered what kind of case had come up.
“She looks just like my mama,” Cassie whispered.
Pete dragged in air, shocked by these words. Cassie couldn’t remember her mother. She’d left when Cassie was only an infant.
“Do you remember your mama?” he whispered, his heart punctured, bleeding.
Cassie shook her head. “Not my real mama, but the mama in my dreams. I dream about my mama sometimes.”
Pete sucked in the moisture that sprang to his eyes. He didn’t know what to say. How could he heal the hurt in his little girl?
That evening, Pete called in his son and daughter from the swing set ne
ar his parents’ blue-and-white, two-story farmhouse. Seven-year-old Nicky clearly showed that he’d descended from the Becks, with his dark hair and eyes and sturdy, little body. Cassie favored her mother, willowy with reddish-blond hair.
The two raced in the back door, jockeying to reach him first. He herded them to the mudroom laundry tub to scrub their hands and faces. He watched them take the simple task and turn it into a contest of wills over soap, water and paper towels. Sibling rivalry. The everydayness of this soothed his ragged nerves. His daughter’s words earlier that day had haunted him.
An earlier conversation with his brother had further unsettled him. Mike had called, saying he might need a favor. But before he’d said what he wanted from Pete, he’d rung off; a customer had come into his shop. Pete let out a long breath. Life never let up, did it?
Pete led his children to the long table on the screened-in side porch where the family enjoyed most of its meals in the warm weather. His mother didn’t like air-conditioning. She’d gone green in the 1970s and never looked back.
Out here in the country, unhampered, cooling breezes blew most of the time. Also, a grove of tall, spreading oak trees, planted by his great-grandfather, shaded the farmhouse under its leafy, green canopy. A light wind stirred the leaves above, sounding like distant laughter. In the nearly ten years he’d lived there, he had missed open-air summers like this in one-hundred-plus degrees, air-conditioned, Las Vegas summers.
Tonight six of them sat down to supper, his family of three, his parents, Kerry Ann and Harry, and his youngest brother, Landon. A bowl of a tossed salad, more the size of a vat, another one of macaroni salad and grilled brats in homemade buns—yum, his mouth watered. His mother had set a place for Mike but it remained empty. Their two other brothers had married and only came when invited. But Mom always set a place for her unmarried sons.
With the sleeves of his plaid, cotton shirt folded up from his wrists, his father bowed his head and all followed his example. “Father, we are grateful for the food You have provided and for the hands which prepared it. Amen.” His father’s grace never varied and neither did its unmistakable sincerity. Shorter than any of his sons, his wiry father had been toughened by a life of hard work. And as always, his dad soberly thanked his mother for preparing another good meal.