by Diana Palmer
John felt something of a load lift from his heart. “She’s unworldly.”
Gil chuckled. “Even better. Come have coffee and pie and tell me all about it!”
CHAPTER FIVE
SASSY put on a cheerful face for the rest of the day, pretending for all she was worth that having John Taggert push her away didn’t bother her at all. It was devastating, though. She was shy with most men, but John had drawn her out of her shell and made her feel feminine and charming. Then she’d gone all googly over him and edged closer as if she couldn’t wait to have him put his arms around her and kiss her. Even the memory of her behavior made her blush. She’d never been so forward with anyone.
Of course, she knew she wasn’t pretty or desirable. He was a good deal older than she was, too, and probably liked beautiful and sophisticated women who knew their way around. He might not be a ranch boss, but he drove a nice truck and obviously made a good salary. In addition to all that, he was very handsome and charming. He’d be a woman magnet in any big city.
He’d saved her from Bill Tarleton, gotten her a raise and a promotion, and generally been kinder to her than she deserved. He probably had the shock of his life when she moved close to him as if she had the right, as if he belonged to her. The shame of it wore on her until she was pale and almost in tears when she left the shop that afternoon.
“Something bothering you, Sassy?” Buck Mannheim asked as they were closing up.
She glanced at him and forced a smile. “No, sir. Nothing at all. It’s just been a long day.”
“It’s that Tarleton thing, isn’t it?” he asked quietly. “You’re upset that you’ll have to testify.”
She was glad to have an excuse for the way she looked. The assault did wear on her, but it was John Taggert’s behavior, not her former boss’s, that had her upset. “I guess it is a little worrying,” she confessed.
He sighed. “Sassy, it’s a sad fact of life that there are men like him in the world. But if you don’t testify, he could get away with it. The reason you had trouble with him is that some other poor girl didn’t want to have to face him in front of a jury. She let him walk. If he’d been convicted of sexual harassment, instead of just charged with it, he’d probably be in jail now. It might have stopped him from coming on to you.”
She had to agree. “I suppose that’s true. It’s just…well, you know, Mr. Mannheim, some men think a woman leads them on if she just looks at them.”
“I know. But that isn’t the case here. John…Taggert—” he caught himself in the nick of time from letting John’s real surname out “—will certainly testify to what he saw. He’ll be there to back you up.”
Which didn’t make her feel any better, because John would probably think she worked at leading men on, considering how he’d had to push her away from him for being forward. She couldn’t say that to Mr. Mannheim. It was too embarrassing.
“You just go on home, have a nice dinner, and stop worrying,” he said with a smile. “Everything is going to be all right.”
She let out a breath and smiled. “You remind me of my grandfather. He always used to tell me that things worked out, if we just sat back and gave them a chance. He was the most patient person I ever knew.”
“I’m not patient.” Buck chuckled. “But I do agree with your grandfather. Time heals.”
“Don’t I wish,” she mused. “Good night, Mr. Mannheim. See you in the morning.”
“I’ll be here.”
She got into the battered old truck her grandfather had willed her on his death, and drove home with black smoke pouring out behind her. The vehicle was an embarrassment, but it was all she had. Just putting gas in it and keeping the engine from blowing up was exorbitant. She was grateful for the gas allowance that she’d gotten with her promotion. It would help financially.
She parked at the side of the rickety old house and studied it for a minute before she walked up onto the porch. It needed so much repair. The roof leaked, there was a missing board on the porch, the steps were starting to sag, at least two windows were rotting out…the list went on and on. She recalled what John had said about the improvements that were being made on the Bradbury place, and it wasn’t in nearly as bad a shape as this place. She despaired about what she was going to do when winter came. Last winter, she’d barely been able to afford to fill one third of the propane tank they used to heat the house. There were small space heaters in both bedrooms and a stove with a blower in the living room. They’d had to ration carefully, so they’d used a lot of quilts during the coldest months, and tried their best to save on fuel costs. It looked as though this year the fuel price would be twice as much.
She didn’t dare think about the obstacles that lay ahead, especially her mother’s worsening health. If the doctor prescribed more medicine, they’d be over their heads in no time. She already owed the local pharmacy half her next week’s paycheck, because she’d had to supplement the cost of her mother’s extra pills.
Well, she had to stop thinking about that, she decided. People were more important than money. It was just that she was the only person making any money. Now she was going to be involved in a court case, and it was just possible that John’s boss might hear about it and not want such a scandalous person working in his store. Worse, John might tell him about how forward she’d been in the feed store today. She couldn’t forget how angry he’d been when he walked out.
Just as she started up the steps, the sky opened up and it began to rain buckets. There was no time to lose. There were three big holes in the ceiling. One was right over the television set. She couldn’t afford to replace the enormous console television, which was her mother’s only source of pleasure. It was almost twenty years old, and the color wasn’t good, but it had lasted them since Sassy was a baby.
“Hi!” she called on her way down the hall.
“It’s raining, dear!” her mother called from the bedroom.
“I know! I’m on it!”
She made a dash for the little plastic tub under the sink, ran into the living room, and made it just in the nick of time to prevent drips from overwhelming the TV set. It was too big and heavy to move by herself. Her mother couldn’t do any lifting at all, and Selene was too small. Sassy couldn’t budge it, so the only alternative was to protect it. She put the tub on the flat top and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Don’t forget the leak in the kitchen!” Mrs. Peale called again. Her voice was very hoarse and thin.
Sassy grimaced. She sounded as if she was getting a bad case of bronchitis, and she wondered how she’d ever get her mother willingly loaded into the truck if she had to take her to town to Dr. Bates. Maybe the dear old soul would make a house call, if he had to. He was a good man. He knew how stubborn Sassy’s mother was, too.
She finished protecting the house with all sorts of buckets and pots. The drips on metal and plastic made a sort of soothing rhythm.
She peeked into her mother’s bedroom. “Bad day?” she asked gently.
Her mother, pale and listless, nodded. “Hurts to cough.”
Sassy felt even worse. “I’ll call Dr. Bates…”
“No!” Her mother paused to cough again. “I’ve got antibiotic, Sassy, and I’ve used my breathing machine today already,” she said gently. “I just need some cough syrup. It’s on the kitchen counter.” She managed a smile. “Try not to worry so much, darling,” she coaxed. “Life just happens. We can’t stop it.”
Sassy bit her lower lip and nodded as tears threatened.
“Now, now.” Mrs. Peale held out her thin arms. Sassy ran to the bed and into them, careful not to press on her mother’s frail chest. She cried and cried.
“I’m not going to die yet,” Mrs. Peale promised. “I have to see Selene through high school first!”
It was a standing joke. Usually they both laughed, but Sassy had been through the mill for the past week. Her life was growing more complicated by the hour.
“We had a visitor today,” her mother said
. “Guess who it was?”
Sassy wiped at her eyes and sat up, smiling through the tears. “Who?”
“Remember Brad Danner’s son Caleb, that you had a crush on when you were fifteen?” she teased.
Memory produced a vague portrait of a tall, lanky boy with black eyes and black hair who’d never seemed to notice her at all. “Yes.”
“He came by to see you,” Mrs. Peale told her. “He’s been in the Army, serving overseas. He stopped by to visit and wanted to say hello to you.” She grinned. “I told him to come to supper.”
Sassy caught her breath. “Supper?” She sat very still. “But we’ve only got stew, and just barely enough for us,” she began.
Mrs. Peale chuckled hoarsely. “He said we needed some take-out, so he’s bringing a bucket of chicken with biscuits and honey and cottage fries all the way from Billings. We can heat it back up in the oven if it’s cold when he gets here.”
“Real chicken?” Sassy asked, her eyes betraying her hunger for protein. Mostly the Peales ate stews and casseroles, with very little meat because it was so expensive. “And biscuits with honey?”
“I guess I looked like I was starving,” Mrs. Peale said wistfully. “I didn’t have the heart to refuse. He was so persuasive.” She smiled sheepishly.
“You wicked woman,” Sassy teased. “What did you do?”
“Well, I was very hungry. He was talking about what he’d gotten himself and his aunt for supper last night, and I did mention that I’d forgotten what a chicken tasted like. He volunteered to come to dinner and bring it with him. What could I say?”
Sassy bent and hugged her mother warmly. “At least you’ll get one good meal this week,” she mused. “So will Selene.” She sat up, frowning. “Where is Selene?”
“She’s in her room, doing homework,” Mrs. Peale replied. “She studies so hard. We have to find a way to let her go to college if she wants to.”
“We’ll work it out,” Sassy promised. “Her grades will probably be so high that she’ll get scholarships all over the place. She’s a good student.”
“Just like you were.”
“I goofed off more than Selene does.”
“You should put on a nice pair of jeans and a clean shirt,” she told her daughter. “You can borrow some of my makeup. Caleb is a handsome young man, and he isn’t going with anybody.”
“You didn’t ask?” Sassy burst out, horrified.
“I asked in a very polite way.”
“Mother!”
“You should never turn down a prospective suitor,” she chuckled. The smile faded. “I know you like Mr. Taggert, Sassy, but there’s something about him…”
Her heart sank. Her mother was oddly accurate with her “feelings.” “You don’t think he’s a criminal or something?”
“Silly girl. Of course not. I just mean that he seems out of place here,” Mrs. Peale continued. “He’s intelligent and sophisticated, and he doesn’t act like the cowboys who work around here, haven’t you noticed? He’s the sort of man who would look at home in elegant surroundings. He’s immaculate and educated.”
“He told me that he wanted to be a ranch manager one day,” Sassy confided. “He probably works at building the right image, to impress people.”
“That could be. But I think there’s more to him than shows.”
“You and your intuition,” Sassy chided.
“You have it, too,” the older woman reminded her. “It’s that old Scotch-Irish second sight. My grandmother had it as well. She could see far ahead.” She frowned. “She made a prediction that never made sense. It still doesn’t.”
“What sort?”
“She said I would be poor, but my daughter would live like royalty.” She laughed. “I’m sorry, darling, but that doesn’t seem likely.”
“Everyone’s entitled to a few misses,” Sassy agreed.
“Anyway, go dress up. I told Caleb that we eat at six.”
Sassy grinned at her. “I’ll dress up, but it won’t help. I’ll still look like me, not some beauty queen.”
“Looks fade. Character doesn’t,” her mother reminded her.
She sighed. “You don’t find many young men in search of women with character.”
“This may be the first. Hurry!”
Caleb was rugged-looking, tall and muscular and very polite. He smiled at Sassy and his dark eyes were intent on her face while he sat at the table with the two women and the little girl. He was serving in an Army unit in Afghanistan, where he was a corporal, he told them. He was a communications specialist, although he was good at fixing motors as well. The Army hadn’t needed a mechanic when he enlisted, but they did need communications people, so he’d trained for that.
“Is it very bad over there, where you were?” Mrs. Peale asked, having struggled to the table with Caleb’s help over Sassy’s objections.
“Yes, it has been,” Caleb said. “But we’re making progress.”
“Do you have to shoot people?” Selene asked.
“Selene!” Sassy exclaimed.
Caleb chuckled. “We try very hard not to,” he told her. “But sometimes the warlords shoot at us. We’re stationed high up in the mountains, where terrorists like to camp. We come under fire from time to time.”
“It must be frightening,” Sassy said.
“It is,” Caleb said honestly. “But we do the jobs we’re given, and try not to think about the danger.” He glanced at Selene and smiled. “There are lots of kids around our camp. We get packages from home and they beg for candy and cookies from us. They don’t get many sweets.”
“Is there lots of little girls?” Selene asked.
“Now, we don’t see many little girls,” he told her. “Their customs are very different from ours. The girls mostly stay with their mothers. The boys tag along after their fathers.”
“I’d like to tag along with my father,” Selene said sadly. “But he went away.”
“Away?”
Sassy mouthed “he died,” and Caleb nodded quickly.
“Do have some more coffee, Caleb,” Mrs. Peale offered.
“Thank you. It’s very good.”
Sassy had rationed out enough for a pot of the delicious beverage. It was expensive, and they rarely drank it. But Mrs. Peale said that Caleb loved coffee and he had, after all, contributed the meal. Sassy felt that a cup of good coffee wasn’t that much of a sacrifice, under the circumstances.
After dinner, they gathered around the television to watch the news. Caleb looked at his watch and said he had to get back to Billings, because his aunt wanted to go to a late movie, and he’d promised to take her.
“But I’d like to come back again before I return to duty, if I may,” he told them. “I had a good time tonight.”
“So did we,” Sassy said at once. “Please do.”
“We’ll make you a nice macaroni and cheese casserole next time, our treat,” Mrs. Peale offered.
He hesitated. “Would you mind if I contributed the cheese for it?” he asked. “I’m partial to a particular brand.”
They saw right through him, but they pretended not to. It had to be obvious that they were managing at a subsistence level.
“That would be very kind of you,” Mrs. Peale said with genuine gratitude.
He smiled. “It would be my pleasure. Sassy, would you walk me out?”
“Sure!”
She jumped up and walked out to his truck with him. He turned to her before he climbed up into the cab.
“My aunt has a cousin who lives here. She says your mother is in very bad shape,” he said.
She nodded. “Lung cancer.”
He grimaced. “If there’s anything I can do, anything at all,” he began. “Your mother was so good to my cousin when she lost her husband in the blizzard a few years ago. None of us have forgotten.”
“You’re very kind. But we’re managing.” She grinned. “Thanks for the chicken, I’d forgotten what they tasted like,” she added, mimicking her mother’s w
ords.
He laughed at her honesty. “You always did have a great sense of humor.”
“It’s easier to laugh than to cry,” she told him.
“So they say. I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon, if I may, and tell you when I’m free. My aunt has committed me to no end of social obligations.”
“You could phone me,” she said.
He grinned. “I’d rather drive over. Humor me. I’ll escape tea with one of aunt’s friends who has an eligible daughter.”
She chuckled. “Avoiding matrimony, are you?”
“Apparently,” he agreed. He pursed his lips. “Are you attached?”
She sighed. “No. Sorry.” Her eyes widened. “Are you?”
He grimaced. “I’m trying not to be.” He shrugged. “She’s my best friend’s girl.”
She relaxed. He wasn’t hunting for a woman. “I have one of those situations, too. Except that he doesn’t have a girlfriend, that I know of.”
“And he doesn’t like you?”
“Apparently not.”
“Well, if that doesn’t take the cake. Two fellow sufferers, and we meet by accident.”
“That’s life.”
“It is.” He studied her warmly. “You know, I was so shy in high school that I never got up the nerve to ask you out. I wanted to. You were always so cheerful, always smiling. You made me feel good inside.”
That was surprising. She remembered him as a standoffish young man who seemed never to notice her.
“I was shy, too,” she confessed. “I just learned to bluff.”
“The Army taught me how to do that,” he said, smiling. “This man you’re interested in—somebody local?”
She sighed. “Actually, he’s sort of the foreman of a ranch. The men he works for bought the old Bradbury place…”
“That wreck?” he exclaimed. “Whatever for?”
“They’re going to run purebred calves out there, once they build a new barn and stable and remodel the house and run new fences. It’s going to be quite a job.”
“A very expensive job. Who are his bosses?”
“The Callister brothers. They live in Medicine Ridge.”