by Beth Andrews
“Ellen, don’t do that!” Alec’s eyes were big. He looked as if he might run away if she didn’t stop crying, but she just couldn’t.
She plopped down on the deck and put her head in her hands. She still had paint all over them, and her clothes, too, from the little fit she’d thrown when her dad left for Montrose.
Why hadn’t she been able to tell him the truth? Why hadn’t she been able to say how awful she felt? She should have begged him to take her with him. If Penny died before she could apologize...
“If she dies at all I’ll die, too!” Ellen wailed, and it was as if she was crying for Penny and her mother, and for the way she’d been mean to her dad, all at the same time. And she was crying for herself, too, because she was so stupid that no one would ever love her again.
Penny maybe could have loved her, someday. She liked her a lot, or she had, before Ellen acted so awful. But now Penny was going to die, just like her mother....
“Noooo! She can’t die!”
“I’m going to go get Mrs. B.” Alec stood, but he hovered nervously next to Ellen. Getting Mrs. B was a major step, and he clearly didn’t want to take it. “Come on, stop crying. I’ve got some Tootsie Rolls.”
She didn’t let up a bit.
“Come on, Ellen. You’re scaring me.”
“I don’t care!” She glared at him, even though he looked like someone she saw from under water. “You said you could sneak away to anywhere. Anywhere! But you were just talking big. Just like about the earrings.”
“Hey.” Alec stiffened huffily, halfway through unwrapping a candy. “We had a deal. You weren’t going to mention the earrings anymore.”
“I don’t care about the earrings!” God, why were boys so dense? “Can’t you see that if Penny dies, she’ll die thinking I hated her?”
“Well, you were pretty nasty.” Alec shrugged his shoulders. “That’s how it works if you say mean things. You always regret it. My dad says, treat everybody like it might be the last time you ever see them.”
“I hate you,” she said, because she knew he was right.
Alec stepped back, widening his eyes and holding up his hands in a way that was all kinds of sarcastic. “There? See what I mean? What if I fell off the deck right now and broke my neck?”
She looked at him, sniffing like crazy because she didn’t have a tissue. She hadn’t cried this hard ever before, even when her mother died.
“How can you be so calm? Don’t you even care whether she dies or not?”
“Of course I’d care, if she were going to die. But she isn’t.”
Ellen sniffed again. “How do you know that?”
“Dunno. I just do. Maybe because my dad didn’t seem scared enough when he left.”
Ellen made an angry sound and stood up. “That’s not a real reason.”
“Yeah?” Alec popped his candy into his mouth. “Just wait and see, then.”
Ellen put her forehead against the back wall of the kitchen and just kept crying. She wasn’t wailing anymore, but this felt worse. Wailing was like a call out to somebody, like your parents, to come and help you, to come and make things right.
This was the kind of crying you did when there was no one to call. When no one could fix the mess you’d made.
Suddenly the kitchen door opened. She jerked up, not wanting Mrs. Biggars to see her. She couldn’t bring herself to explain any of this to Mrs. B.
But it was her dad. He stood in the doorway, looking from her to Alec. Ellen dug her fists against her heart, because it was beating so fast. She hadn’t noticed that the shadows were taking over the porch. She couldn’t really see his face all that well.
Why didn’t he say something? That couldn’t be a good sign. Even Alec looked worried, watching Ellen’s dad.
Then Ellen remembered what she’d acted like when her dad left. No wonder he wasn’t saying anything. He probably didn’t know who he was looking at—his nasty, selfish daughter, or Ellen.
“Daddy,” she said, and the minute the word was out of her mouth she began to cry again. “Daddy, I’m sorry!”
She hesitated, wondering if it was too late to be forgiven. But her father sank to his knees and held out his arms. She ran into them without even worrying what Alec would think.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. And then again. Over and over, into his shirt. She felt as if she could say it a hundred times, and it still wouldn’t be enough. She’d done so many mean things over the past year.
He held on to her, his hands patting her hair, the way he used to do when she was a little girl. He was silent, and amazingly, so was Alec. Had he run away?
But she didn’t turn around to see. She felt melded to her father’s chest. She’d forgotten how strong and solid he was and how safe she felt with his arms around her.
Dad let her go on until her throat was sore from trying to cry and trying to talk at the same time. Then he nudged her an inch or two away, so that he could look into her face.
His face was so gentle-looking. She thought about Penny’s father, throwing her canary against the wall, and wondered how she could ever have taken her nice father for granted. She’d been very angry at him, but she’d never been afraid of him a single day in her life. Not even the day she almost got arrested.
He smiled, using his thumbs to brush away her tears.
“Penny is going to be fine,” he said, as if he had known all along why she was really crying. “She got pretty bunged up. Her arm is broken, and she’s got stitches everywhere. But she’s going to be just fine.”
Alec, who apparently had not sneaked away, made a crowing sound. “Told you,” he said. But he sounded relieved.
She gave him a dirty look that was really not mad or anything, then turned back to her dad. “Are you completely sure?”
“Completely. I talked to her, and I talked to her family. I even talked to her doctor. She’s going to stay in the hospital overnight, and then she’s going to stay with her family at Bell River for a while, just till she’s all healed up.”
A heavy rock seemed to sink through Ellen’s chest. “She’s not coming back here?”
Dad looked sad, too, as if he knew about the rock. “Not for a while.”
“Then how am I going to tell her I’m sorry? How am I going to tell her that I don’t hate her?”
Dad put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t you?”
She shook her head, then bowed it. She felt horribly ashamed, and for the first time she understood the expression “hanging your head.” She didn’t really like to look into Dad’s sad eyes right now.
“No,” she said. Finally, she looked up. “I love her. You love her, too, don’t you?”
He stood, though he kept his hands on her shoulders. He looked at Alec, and then he flicked a quick glance toward Penny’s side of the house, which was dark, like a tomb. Ellen shivered, thinking about that expression, and being so glad it wasn’t an expression she would ever have to really use.
“Yes,” he said, finally, looking back at Ellen. “I love her, too.”
“Aw, man.” Alec looked at Ellen. “You really made a big cowboy hash out of this one, didn’t you? I mean, I screwed things up when I tried to set my dad up with my math teacher, but at least I didn’t chase Rowena away.”
“Shut up,” she said. Then she remembered she was going to try to be nicer to everyone—to treat people as if this might be the last time she ever saw them. Even Alec. “I mean, please don’t say things that just make me feel worse. Help me try to fix it.”
Alec unwrapped another candy and straddled the railing as if it were a horse. “Well, I guess you could ride over there with your dad, and you could tell her you’re sorry you were such a nasty little frog dropping.”
Her father made a strange noise, and Ellen put her hands on her hips.
“Alec!’
He swallowed his candy and wrinkled his nose. “Sorry. That’s what the cowboys say. Dad says I have to be careful, imitating them, because although they’re quite colorful they are sometimes inappropriate.”
He took on a very precise, lecturing adult tone when he repeated his father’s words. “But Rowena says if the shoe fits....”
“Could we, Dad?” Ellen’s heart sped up. “Could we go and let me tell her I’m sorry? I could tell her that I don’t hate her, that I really love her. You could tell her, too.”
A pair of lights pierced the navy blue evening, and Ellen held her breath. Even though she knew Penny wasn’t coming home tonight, seeing a car come up the driveway made her hope.
“I’m leaving, Mr. Thorpe!”
Her heart fell. It was just Mrs. B’s ride. Her father called back something polite, and then they stood silently for a minute, watching the headlights back up and pull away again.
“I can’t do that,” her dad said, as if they were continuing their conversation without any interruption. “I’m very glad you care about her, and I’m glad that you don’t mind that I care about her, too. But just because it’s okay with us doesn’t mean it’s okay with her.”
A huge void seemed to open up before Ellen’s feet. “Do you mean she doesn’t love you?”
“I don’t know whether she does or not. I couldn’t ask her. I wasn’t free to, when I thought it would make you very unhappy. What you need always comes first, and she understands that.”
The earth steadied a bit beneath Ellen’s feet. “I bet she does,” she said. “I’m sure she does.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Alec said. “Sometimes ladies only like movie stars, like Brad Pitt.”
“That’s stupid.” Ellen felt as if Alec had insulted her dad. “Why shouldn’t Penny love my dad? He’s just as handsome as your dad, and Rowena fell in love with him, right?”
“Hey.” Her dad looked as if he were caught halfway between wanting to laugh, and wanting to sit down and be really, really sad. “First of all, it’s not always about how pretty or handsome a person is. But also, there’s an even bigger reason I can’t talk to Penny about love right now.”
“What reason?”
He took a deep breath, the kind he always started with when he thought he had to explain something that was too grown-up for her to understand. “In a way, she’s asked me not to. She wants to have some time being on her own. She wants to learn to live alone, and to find out who she really is and what she wants out of life.” He smiled, that same sad smile. “She even has a list—”
“The Risk-it List.” Alec nodded. “Yeah. I’ve seen that. It’s like a bucket list, only dumber.”
Ellen turned around, making fists. “Alec, if you say mean things about Penny—”
Alec shook his head in a world-weary way he probably picked up from one of the wranglers. “I’m just saying some of the stuff on there is dumb. I mean, come on. Juggling? Would you have juggling on your bucket list?”
“It’s not a bucket list. It’s a Risk-it List.”
“Whatever.” Alec swung himself down off the railing. “If the list is the only thing standing in your way, that’s easy enough to fix.”
Ellen held her breath. This had better not be another of Alec’s braggy lies. “How?”
He dug another candy out of his pocket. It must have been the last one, because he practically had to dig down to his shoes.
“How could we fix it?” She was hardly able to stand still while unwrapped it.
“Easy.” He filled his mouth with chocolate, then grinned.
Disgusting.
“Darn it, Alec.” She practically stamped her feet. “Easy how?”
“Isn’t it pretty obvious? We just find a way to help her finish up the things on her list.” When no one oohed with impressed delight, he shook his head.
“Listen. Here’s how it would go. It would be like...she’s got juggling on there, and also ‘throw a costume party,’ right? So we throw her a circus party, and we all come as juggling clowns, and wham! Check, check, check...and bam, you’re married!”
* * *
THE PROBLEM, MAX discovered later, was that none of them was sure exactly what was on Penny’s Risk-it List.
He remembered the ones she’d checked off, like the kiss and the hot air balloon, and, of course, the juggling. Alec remembered the costume party. And Ellen remembered something about a sailboat.
“Yeah, but what about a sailboat? Sail one? Own one? Rent one? Get someone else to sail her around in one? Just ‘sailboat’ isn’t really all that helpful,” Alec said as they sat in Max’s kitchen, trying to replicate the list.
Max sat back, enjoying listening to the two kids bicker, both of them caught up in the plan. It felt nice to think the campaign would be a family affair.
He wasn’t sure when he decided to go along with the gag and approach Penny this particular way, but he was committed to it now.
Or maybe he meant he should be committed.
He couldn’t be sure this was the right thing to do. He didn’t know if it would work. But he knew that the three of them would always remember the night they plotted to win the heart of Penny Wright.
He stepped outside for privacy, then took out his cell and called Rowena.
“Hi,” he said when she answered. “It’s Max. Before you hang up, just listen to what I have to say.”
The silence at the other end was edgy. “Okay. What do you have to say?”
“I am no threat to Penny,” he said, for starters.
She made a disdainful sound. “I know one broken wrist, two bruised ribs and sixteen stitches that say otherwise. And if you’re going to say you’re not to blame for those—”
“I’m not going to say that. I know I’m to blame.”
This time the silence was shock. “Okay,” Rowena finally said, very slowly. “I’m listening.”
“I’m in love with Penny,” he said. “I want to marry her. I want to make her happy, if I can. Right now Alec and Ellen and I are trying to figure out how to make everything on her Risk-it List come true.”
Another pause. “You and Ellen...and Alec?”
“Yep. Problem is, we aren’t sure what all is on the list. I wondered if you might know.”
“No.” Rowena spoke slowly, as if she’d just awakened from a deep sleep. “I can’t say that I do remember, exactly.”
“Then would you be willing to come over, go into the house, and look at the list for us? Penny keeps it on the refrigerator door.”
“Umm...” For once Rowena seemed at a loss for words. Finally, she spoke. “The thing is...it’s not something I ought to stick my nose into. You see, I promised her I would stay out of this entirely.”
“I understand.” Max did understand, he thought. Rowena didn’t think Max was right for Penny, and she didn’t want to cooperate. Well, he’d find a way without her. He’d win Penny first, and then he’d have his whole life to show Rowena how wrong she’d been about him.
“Thanks, anyhow.”
He was just about to hang up when she cleared her throat dramatically. “But on an entirely unrelated topic, I was wondering whether you might be able to help Penny get that back window fixed.”
“Sure,” he said absently.
“You know, the one just to the left of the kitchen door, if you face the house from the back?” Rowena paused a moment, as if to give him time to orient himself. “Well, on that particular window, the lock is broken, and I keep telling her that anyone, I mean anyone, could get in the house that way, if they really wanted to.”
Max began to laugh. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Rowena sniffed. “Oh.”
“Yes, of course, I’ll look into that.” He started to click off, but at the last minute,
he decided he might as well be in for a dollar. “You’re such a good sister, Rowena.” He chose his words as carefully as she’d chosen hers. “I think it’s terrific, how you protect her. It’s important to be able to tell when there’s a danger...and when there’s not.”
She huffed softly. “As long as you don’t prove me wrong, Max Thorpe. I’m a bad enemy to have.”
He chuckled softly, then clicked the off button. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and returned to where the children were still arguing about the sailboat.
“Well, that settles it,” Max said, sitting down and leaning back in his chair. “I guess we’ll have to break in.”
Both children turned to look at him, their eyes as wide as saucers.
“Dang, Ellen!” Alec’s voice was awestruck, and the look he turned on Max was filled with a new, stunned respect. “Your dad is badass.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
PENNY CAME BACK to Bell River the next day and was welcomed into the arms of her huge, boisterous family—even including Mitch, who had, to everyone’s joy, appeared at Bell River the day of her accident. Although, mysteriously, Bonnie was not with him.
She didn’t know Mitch well enough to probe any of that, and no one else seemed ready to quiz him, either. So they just made a celebration out of her homecoming, and included Mitch as casually as if he’d never been gone.
It felt strange to be back on Bell River land, but not altogether bad. Especially since she wasn’t going to be sleeping in the main house.
Bless Rowena and Bree for that. The River Song cottage had come open, and her sisters had taken it off the “available” list, even on the computer reservation site, because they sensed that Penny might prefer to stay there instead of in the main house.
They were so right. If she stayed in the main house, in what they’d come to call the Sister Suite, she would have to walk past the front staircase, time and again, every single day. She simply couldn’t do it.
Someday, she promised herself, she would be strong enough to put that old ghost to rest. But not today.
Today it was all she could do to hold the pieces of her broken, aching body together.