by Leslie Gould
Rebekah attempted a smile. Thank goodness Reid wasn’t along; Pepper would never hear the end of being named after a fish.
“Mandy was little then, seven or eight.”
“You must miss her.”
“I don’t miss the bad times.” Polly shook her head.
“Do Adrianna and Cadee live with you?”
Polly nodded. Rebekah moved closer with the scrapbook. “Here’s Pepper on her favorite horse, an Appaloosa named Sky. She only rides him in the corral, but she rides the other horses all around our farm.”
“She looks happy.”
“She is.”
Polly pointed to Reid. “Your son has grown up.”
“They both have. Here’s Pepper with Bear. He’s a dog that has been staying on our farm. Long story. Anyway, I took this picture on Thanksgiving.” And put it in the scrapbook last night. “She loves animals.”
“So did Mandy.”
“And here she is on her first day of school this year.”
“She looks like Mandy.”
Rebekah nodded. “I think so too.”
“Like a little pixie.” Polly shifted her weight. “I don’t have much time. I have to get to work. I go in at mealtimes, at the nursing home.”
“Oh.”
“I hurt my shoulder. I’m on partial disability.”
“I’m sorry.” Rebekah turned toward Polly. “Did you get my letter?”
Polly blushed.
Rebekah slipped out of her blue blazer. “Pepper is sick; I came to ask for your help.” Rebekah closed the scrapbook.
“The kidney problem?”
Rebekah nodded. “As I said in the letter, she needs to have a transplant soon.”
“She’s on a list, right?”
“Yes, but the list takes a long time. We’re looking for a related donor who has a compatible blood type. Then that person would need to be tested to see if the tissue matched.”
“I’m not strong.”
“What about Adrianna?”
“She’s not like Mandy was, but she couldn’t handle something like that. She’s not exactly stable.”
“The procedure is much easier than it used to be, and the recovery is minimal.”
Polly shook her head. “Something will come up for Pepper. I’m sorry; I can’t help you.”
Rebekah slumped back against the couch.
“You need to go.”
Rebekah gripped the scrapbook. “May I send you photos of Pepper from time to time? Could we stay in touch?”
Polly clasped her hands together. “Please don’t tell her that I said no. I don’t want her to be disappointed in me, not any more than she already is.”
Rebekah reached for Polly’s hand. “She’s not disappointed in you, honestly.” She has a good life, she wanted to say, except for needing a kidney.
Polly pulled her hand away and stood. “Good-bye now.”
Rebekah clutched the scrapbook. “Polly, I’m sorry.”
“What for?” Polly swung open the door.
“For asking.” For your life. That Mandy died. That you’ll never know what a wonderful person Pepper is.
“Go on now.”
Rebekah sat in her rental car. Polly backed a Ford Escort out of her bare garage and waved, just a tiny toss of her hand, as she drove by. Adrianna stared straight ahead.
Polly hadn’t cried at Mandy’s graveside service. Adrianna was there, and a group of her friends, huddled together for warmth against the December wind. The minister was the funeral home chaplain, and there were no neighbors, no friends from Polly’s work, no grandparents, no father. Polly had told Rebekah matter-of-factly that Mandy’s dad had taken a job on an oil rig in the Gulf and said he couldn’t make it. Rebekah missed Mandy then—missed her commentary about her family, about her mom’s despair, her father’s anger. Mandy had kept a few of her visitations with Pepper, but most of the time she just didn’t show. A few times she’d said she wanted to be a good mom to Pepper, but she never followed through with appointments or classes.
I need to get home. Rebekah felt a sense of urgency. Maybe she could get an earlier flight. She would drive straight to the airport. She would rather wait in Portland until Sandi could pick her up than spend another minute so far from home.
Rebekah closed her eyes as the plane took off. She hated the feeling of being pinned to the chair, totally out of control. Ten people died each day because they needed a kidney transplant. A tear slid from her eye. She swept it away. God, Rebekah prayed, don’t make me face life without Pepper. She opened her eyes and turned her head toward the tiny patch of window she could see past the young man sitting next to her. Clouds rolled in over the bare, brown hills that fell away as the plane ascended.
Another tear pooled. She searched her pockets for a tissue and then her purse. The tear escaped. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket.
A flight attendant hurried by and then returned a minute later with a packet of tissues. She patted Rebekah’s arm. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks,” Rebekah whispered. How could Polly be so heartless? Rebekah blew her nose. Why had she put so much trust in Polly? The plane hit turbulence, and the fasten-your-seat-belt light came on. The sky darkened with rain clouds. Lightning flashed. More tears raced down Rebekah’s face. Her twentysomething seatmate pressed his nose against the window.
“We’re having a little turbulence.” The pilot’s voice came across the loudspeaker, deep and reassuring. “We’ll be out of the storm in a few minutes.”
Another bolt of lightning flashed, this time closer.
Rebekah wadded the tissue in her hand.
Pepper was in the middle of a storm, but she didn’t act like it. She never seemed to worry about when she would have the transplant—or if. She accepted that she would. Why didn’t she worry?
Because she trusts. That quiet voice.
Rebekah sank against the chair and gripped the armrest.
Trust me.
God, I do trust. I’m just trying to do everything I can to figure this out. No, she didn’t trust—not as she used to, not as she had when Pepper was a baby and when Pepper was ill four years ago. What had changed?
Rebekah, give up control.
She leaned against the headrest as the plane flew out of the storm, escaping the ominous clouds. Lightning flashed miles away. Rebekah closed her eyes. Maybe she didn’t know how to trust anymore; she was so used to making things happen, to taking charge.
How could she change?
Elise wiped peanut-butter cookie batter off Rebekah’s kitchen counter. The entire kitchen sparkled, and soon it would smell of freshly baked cookies. She had also caught up the laundry, vacuumed, and changed the sheets on all the beds. She couldn’t donate a kidney, but she could at least make things a little easier for Rebekah. She thought about riding the mare during the afternoon, maybe even Sky, but the rain never let up, and she knew the trail would be slick.
She stirred a pot of stew. The bus would drop off the kids in just a few minutes. Her purse, slung over the back of a dining room chair, began to ring. Elise grabbed her phone. It was Ted. She wandered into the living room as they talked. “Rebekah should be home in a few hours, then the boys and I will go home.” Ted brought up blood types. Elise stood at the bottom of the stairs. At least she didn’t have to worry about any of the kids hearing her talk.
“You should get tested, Elise.”
“Ted, that would be ludicrous.”
“Why?”
“I’m a single mom, remember?” She walked to the front window. The school bus stopped down the road.
“Everyone would help you.”
“Who would help me?”
“Dad, the women from the shop …” Ted hesitated. “People from church.”
“Rebekah asked Pepper’s birth family if one of them could donate a kidney.”
“And?”
Elise watched Pepper swing her backpack at Mark. Reid ran ahead. Michael walked b
ackward. Was he yelling something at Mark?
“I’ll let you know what Rebekah found out.” Elise headed back into the kitchen. “She was pretty sure they would agree to be tested.”
They talked about Ted’s weekend trip to the castles. “Don’t tell Michael,” Ted joked.
The kids clambered up the back steps and through the door. “Dibs on the computer,” Pepper yelled.
Reid pushed ahead and tore through the kitchen with Mark and Michael behind him.
“The kids are home.” Elise held the phone tightly against her ear. “Call back soon, okay?”
Mark sat down at Rebekah’s desk and turned on her computer.
“Help me with the horses, Mark.” Elise slipped a tray of biscuits into the oven and set the timer.
Pepper jumped down from her stool at the breakfast bar and grabbed her raincoat off the hook. “Mom’s computer is really slow, but Dad took his laptop, so this is your only choice since Reid won’t let you use his. His is slow too; he wants a new one for Christmas.”
“Come on. We need to get the horses fed.” Elise pulled the hood of her parka onto her head.
“Why can’t Reid and Michael do it?”
“Because I asked you, Mark.” She slipped on work gloves. “You had an hour after school to relax. Now it’s time to work.”
“Mom, that’s not fair.” Mark turned toward her.
“Come on, Mark. I need your help.” Elise opened the back door. A gust of wind yanked it from her hand. She knew once Mark got to the barn, he would be happy to help.
Pepper zipped her jacket, and Mark followed her out the door. “Get a coat,” Elise commanded.
“I’m fine.”
Bear poked his head out of his doghouse, which John had hauled out to the farm, and then followed the trio to the barn, sniffing their hands as they walked. Elise struggled against the wind and pushed open the barn door. “Okay, Pepper, tell us what we need to do.”
“Feed and water the horses, put out more hay, and scoop the poop.”
“Mark, you water. Pepper, you feed them. I’ll start scooping. Whoever is done first can put down the cedar shavings.”
Elise put her hand out to Sky. Why was she always surprised when a horse responded so positively? He brushed his head up against Elise’s face and then nuzzled her neck. “Are you happy to see me?” Elise rubbed his forehead.
“Do you think the cougar is out tonight?” Mark asked Pepper.
“Not in the rain.” Pepper poured oats into the bucket.
“What do you think, Sky? Is the cougar going to come out of the forest?” Mark stood on the railing of Sky’s stall.
“Don’t scare the horses, Mark,” Pepper commanded
“He doesn’t know what I’m saying.”
“Sure he does.” Pepper spread oats in the palomino’s feeding trough.
“You’re full of it.”
“Mark.” Elise headed to the back door with the shovel. “Stop it.” She didn’t need sibling squabbling between children who weren’t even siblings. “Mark, help me with the door. Please.”
He swung it open, and she backed out into the storm, flinging the poop from the shovel onto the pile, the wind whipping off her hood.
“Use the wheelbarrow.” Pepper nodded toward the green wheelbarrow in an unused stall.
“Good idea.” Elise placed the shovel in it.
“Yeah, good idea, Mom.” Mark grinned and rubbed his arms with his hands.
Elise struggled to get the wheelbarrow inside the stall.
“We leave it outside the stall,” Pepper said. “It makes it easier.”
“I see.” Elise shoved the wheelbarrow; the gate swung against it. She lost her balance, and the wheelbarrow shot through the gate and toppled over.
Mark began to laugh.
“I’m going to pull the biscuits out of the oven.” Elise headed to the barn door. She had forgotten to ask Michael to listen for the timer.
Bear barked furiously and paced along the pasture. Elise turned toward the forest as Bear vaulted over the fence, his massive body lunging into the night. “Bear!” she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth, trying to shout above the wind that howled through the spruce trees near the house. He tore through the field. Along the edge of the willows near the creek was another animal. Was it a deer? No. It was too low to the ground.
A horrible scream brought Pepper dashing out of the barn. “Where’s the cougar?”
Another wail filled the air—worse than a woman’s screech, worse than a baby in the night or a fight between two tomcats.
“Bear is chasing it into the forest.” Elise pressed her body against the fence.
“I can’t see either one of them.” Pepper jumped on the railing.
“It’s getting too dark. They’re too far.” Elise pushed her hood from her head, but she couldn’t hear the cougar or Bear. The rain beat against her face.
“Bear!” Pepper shouted. “Come back!”
Elise sat at the head of the oak table. Pepper sat sideways in her chair, her feet pointed toward the kitchen.
“What are these?” Michael asked.
“Hockey pucks.” Mark slid a biscuit across the table.
“The stew is very good.” Reid slurped a spoonful as he talked.
“Thank you.” Elise put her spoon next to her plate. “Pepper, you should eat.”
Pepper drummed her fingers along the oak table. “When is Bear going to come home?”
“I didn’t think you liked that dog.” Reid sawed away at a biscuit.
“I never said that.” Pepper went to the back door and opened it, called Bear’s name, and then closed the door. “How far would he go?”
“Maybe he went home to Grandpa.” Mark pushed his plate toward the middle of the table.
Elise shook her head at him.
“Was that a bark?” Pepper opened the door again.
“You’re imagining things,” Mark yelled after her.
“He’s back!” Pepper rushed outside in her socks.
Elise hurried after her, into the night. Bear crawled under the fence, his coat soaked and matted. Pepper knelt beside him and rubbed him with her hands. The storm had calmed.
“You’re going to get wet.” Mark stood on the deck.
Pepper took Bear’s head in her hands. “He has a scratch on his nose.” She turned to Elise. “Do you think the cougar did it?”
“He wouldn’t have a face left if the cougar did it.” Mark turned and went back in the house.
“It was probably blackberry bushes.” Elise knelt down by the dog. The scratch started near his eye and ended on his nose. Should she call John?
“Mom, phone.” Michael ran down the steps.
Elise took it, expecting Rebekah.
“Hi.”
It wasn’t Rebekah; it was Patrick.
“Reid said Rebekah is in Phoenix.” Patrick’s voice was agitated.
“Uh-huh.” Elise ducked into the kitchen, hoping Pepper would stay outside with Bear.
“I called her parents. Her mom tried to cover, but I know Rebekah isn’t there. Where is she?”
“I think she’s on her way home.”
“Elise,” Patrick’s voice cracked, “where did she go?”
Elise swung open the kitchen door. The boys apparently had gone upstairs.
“Elise?”
“Nevada.”
Patrick was quiet for a long moment. “Thanks. I’ll keep trying to reach her on her cell.”
Thanks, Sandi.” Rebekah grabbed her overnight bag from the back of Sandi’s Jeep. Bear ran to meet her, his tail wagging. “Thanks for watching the shop too.”
“My pleasure.”
“Do you want to come in?”
Sandi shook her head. “I’m going to stop by John’s. He has dinner ready.”
Rebekah leaned against the seat. “You just said there’s nothing going on with you two.”
Sandi shrugged. “There isn’t.”
Rebekah shook her head and
smiled. “Right. Well, hopefully, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She slammed the door and turned toward the house. Bear stayed between her and the fence. “What is it, boy?”
The back door flew open. “Mom, we saw the cougar!” Pepper ran out on the deck in her socks. “Bear chased it for a really long time.”
Rebekah cringed. “I didn’t think it would come back.”
Elise stood at the door. “How was your trip?”
“Fine.” Rebekah followed Pepper through the door, dropped her bag, and then whispered to Elise, “I’ll tell you later.”
“What did Grandma and Grandpa send me?”
“Send you?”
“Me and Reid. They always send us stuff.”
“Not this time, sweet pea.” Rebekah hadn’t thought to buy them gifts at the airport.
Pepper’s face fell.
“Pepper, please take off your socks.” Elise stood at the sink and scrubbed a pot. “You’re tracking all over the floor.”
“Oops,” she said, peeling her socks from her feet. “It’s the second pair I’ve gotten wet tonight.”
Rebekah patted Pepper on the head. “The kitchen looks great.”
“Elise did a ton of work.” Pepper wadded her socks in her hand.
“You shouldn’t have.” Rebekah hung her coat on the rack.
“I didn’t do that much.”
“How close was the cougar?” Rebekah put her purse on her desk.
“In the field. Bear chased it back into the forest,” Elise answered.
Reid sauntered into the kitchen. “Hi, Mom.”
Rebekah hugged him, pulled him close. “Take my bag upstairs, would you?”
“Pepper, please go tell Mark and Michael to come down.” Elise dried the pot. “Patrick called,” she said to Rebekah.
“Figures.” Rebekah slipped out of her blazer.
“Reid told him you were at your parents’.” Elise dried her hands. “Patrick said he had tried your cell.”
“He did. About a million times.”
“He also tried your parents. I ended up telling him you were in Nevada; I couldn’t lie.” Elise hung the towel on the refrigerator handle.
Rebekah pulled a chair out and sat down at the kitchen table. “I’ve made a mess of things.”