Only Heaven Knows (Hell Yeah!)

by Sable Hunter

  The Sister looked a bit guilty. “Healthy, thank you.”

  Bryn felt immensely uncomfortable. “How did you find me?”

  “It wasn’t hard. We knew you inherited Sister Mary Estelle’s family home when she passed. I came to town and asked the first person I saw if they knew of a newcomer named Bryn Harmon. The woman told me you worked here. Simple. No magic involved.”

  Bryn sighed. “Okay. Good to know. What can I do for you, Sister Carmen?

  She sniffed, adjusted her habit and took out her phone. “Mother Superior wants your address and phone number.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I just follow orders.”

  “Okay. Fine. What’s she going to do, sue me for being an imposter? Or for committing acts of kindness without a license?” Bryn scribbled the information on a slip of paper and handed it to the nun.

  “Like I said, I have no idea.” She gave a short bow and turned to leave. “Have a good day, Brianna.”

  Once she was gone, Bryn sagged on the counter. “I need a drink or piece of pecan pie or something,” she muttered to herself as the florist phone rang. Making a grab for it, she answered it just about the time her feet slipped in the water she’d spilled earlier. “For the Love of Pete! May I help you?”

  “Excuse me, I must have the wrong number. I was trying to reach Tricia Yeager at Tricia’s Treasures.”

  “Oh, you got it, I’m sorry.” Bryn tore off some paper towels and bent to clean up the mess she’d made. “She’s not here right now, could I help you?”

  “Would you tell Tricia her grandmother called?”

  “Does she have your number?”

  The elderly lady confirmed that Tricia did indeed have her number, then hung up. Bryn finished Mr. Weewilly’s funeral spray and tried not to think about Sister Carmen’s visit. Or her unfortunate date. To drown out her unwanted thoughts, she turned the radio on and listened to music, smiling at the song dedication portion. No matter how many times she heard one, they always seemed to be the epitome of romance for her. Just imagine, knowing someone liked you enough to announce it to the world.

  After making two more funeral arrangements, she began filling Mylar balloons for a GET WELL SOON basket. Bryn was on the third one when the back door opened, and Tricia came in. “Your grandmother called, I told her you’d call back.”

  “Oh, okay, thanks. Anyone else?”

  “No. If you’d take your cell phone with you, you wouldn’t miss anything.”

  “Sorry, my mind has been elsewhere. I’ll phone her later.”

  “Going by the smile on your face, I think I can guess where your mind has been.” Bryn attached a ribbon to the balloon and tied it off. “How are things with Lance?”

  “Good.”

  “Really?”

  “Yea, too good.”

  “Too good to be true?” Bryn asked with wide eyes and a pursed mouth.

  “No, I wouldn’t say that.” Tricia shook her head. “Lance is doing everything he can to be…what I need.”

  With a tinge of guilt filtering through her mind, she realized how quickly she’d jumped to the conclusion that her boss’s romance wasn’t going well. “I believe I’m becoming a cynic,” she mused.

  Ting!

  Bryn continued assembling the bouquet as Tricia moved to help another customer. Once she was through, she affixed the balloons to a pink metal bucket full of lotions and candles. As she started out the back, she called to Tricia. “I’m running down the street to the nursing home to deliver these to Mrs. Astor.”

  After hearing a muffled agreement, Bryn wrestled the balloon bouquet out the rear door and into the backseat of her car. Just seeing the vehicle made her feel conflicted. What was she going to do? She never should’ve accepted such a generous gift from Denver. They were never truly an item and if they had been, it still wasn’t entirely appropriate. Oh, she didn’t doubt Denver’s motives at all, he’d been crystal clear that the car came with no strings. Still, she felt bad about what he spent on her, especially after she’d disappointed him the way she had a few nights ago.. “Gosh, this relationship stuff is complicated.” There really was nothing to think about, just as soon as she could, she’d pay him back the money he’d spent on her – every penny.

  The drive to the nursing home didn’t take ten minutes, the sprawling four-winged complex stood just on the edge of town and took up a full city block. Pulling up in the front, Bryn jumped out and opened the back door, tugging the mess of balloons out into the open. As she made her way to the front door, she noticed several elderly ladies pointing at the gaily colored balloons. Bryn wished she’d brought some extra with her to share. “Oh, what the heck.” After glancing around, she reached up to the dozen balloons and pulled one free, handing it to a smiling gray-haired lady. Moving to the next woman, she repeated the same – reaching up to the dozen balloons and pulling one free. And again. And again.

  “Thank you, Miss.”

  “Thank you kindly.”

  “You’re an angel, little lady.”

  Bryn smiled at the genteel quartet. “Hardly, but I’m glad you all like them.” Feeling happy, she carried her dozen balloons on into the facility to deliver to Mrs. Astor. Hopefully, no one noticed how her Mylar balloons had multiplied like the loaves and fishes.

  “Mrs. Astor’s room, please?”

  An attendant directed her to Room 132 and when she neared the door, she heard heartbroken sobs coming from within.

  “Oh, no! My granddaughter made that for me! She painted it herself, just for me. Now, it’s broken!”

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Astor. It just slipped out of my hand.”

  Bryn stood in the door and watched the nurse’s aide try to placate the heartbroken silver haired lady who was crying her eyes out over a broken picture frame.

  “Oh, look, Mrs. Astor. This pretty lady has brought you some balloons!”

  “I don’t want any balloons, I want my picture frame. My granddaughter made it for me for my birthday!”

  Bryn could see how hurt the old lady was at her loss. “Mrs. Astor, these balloons are from your granddaughter, Mellie. She hopes you get to feeling better.” She moved into the room to place them at the foot of the hospital bed.

  “Oh, how will I tell her?” Mrs. Astor couldn’t enjoy the balloons for worrying about the frame.

  “Please calm down.” The young aide begged. “I’ll buy you another frame.”

  “It wouldn’t be the same!” Mrs. Astor cried.

  “If you don’t stop crying, I’m going to have to call the doctor. Your blood pressure is going to go through the roof.”

  Bryn couldn’t stand it. “Why don’t you go get Mrs. Astor some juice or something? I have Superglue in my purse, I bet I can fix the frame good as new.”

  “Really?” Mrs. Astor looked at Bryn with hope in her eyes.

  “I don’t know.” The aide held out the fragments of the frame. “I think it’s totaled.”

  “Let me try.” Bryn took the small and large shards of the ceramic frame. The aide was right, there would be no repairing the broken piece. The paint was flaking off and some of the ceramic had smashed into dust. Cradling the pieces to her, Bryn pulled a chair near the bed. Mrs. Astor was watching her so closely that Bryn didn’t know how she would manage. “Close your eyes, ma’am. Let me do my thing and when you open them, it will be as good as new.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a vial of Superglue that hadn’t been there a few moments before.

  “Okay, I will. I trust you,” Mrs. Astor told Bryn, her voice still shaky with tears.

  As soon as her eyes were shut, Bryn placed the shards of ceramic as near into place as she could, then she melded them together with the warmth of her love. “There!” When Mrs. Astor looked again, the frame was healed. “Just the way your granddaughter made it.”

  “Oh, thank you!!” She held out her hands and Bryn gently handed her the frame.

  “You’d better ask her for a pretty picture to go inside.�
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  “I will.” She beamed at Bryn. “And thank you for bringing the balloons. I feel better all ready.”

  “You’re welcome.” She showed Mrs. Astor the bucket full of bath and lotion items that came with it. “I think you’re all fixed up.”

  “Bless you! Bless you!”

  Bryn kissed the elderly lady on her cheek, then made her escape before the aide returned and started to ask questions.

  During the return trip to the florist, she passed Hardbodies and saw a Help Wanted sign. Hmmm… “A second job would help me save the money faster to pay Denver what I owe him.” If she hadn’t been on the clock, Bryn would’ve stopped to fill out an application. “Later, I’ll come back later.”

  Upon returning to the shop, she found Tricia in a tizzy.

  “Bryn, could you measure Cecil for a tux? He’s to be the ring bearer in the Worthy wedding,” she explained.

  “Of course, come with me.” She held out her hand to lead a small boy and his mother to the dressing room.

  The little guy rolled his eyes and muttered. “Don’t wanna be no ring bear, Mama.”

  Bryn knew this would take a little work. “Cecil, did you know Batman sometimes wears a tux when he’s isn’t in his bat suit?”

  “Do you mean when he’s Bruce Wayne?” Now his tone was almost as bright as his eyes.

  “Oh, yes. Bruce wears a tux very often,” she informed him with a smile.

  “Can I wear a batman shirt underneath it?” He looked at his mother expectantly.

  Bryn tried to hide a smile. “Well, that’s up to your mother…”

  * * *

  Two days later, Denver tied his horse to a fence post and went in the barn to find his boss. He was doing his best to stay busy, trying not to think of Bryn. Like an effing coward, he hadn’t called her. Of course, she hadn’t called him either. He couldn’t blame her, he’d gone too far. Let his baser instincts take over. She didn’t want to see him again, he didn’t have to talk to her to know that. “Damn it all to hell,” he muttered when he remembered how she’d scrambled away from him after he’d cum in her hand like a rutting bull. Yes, she’d said she wanted to touch him, but he should’ve known she wasn’t ready. He’d pushed her from point A to point Z without making any stops in between. He didn’t even bring her pleasure. “God, what she must think of me.”

  “Are you talking to yourself again?” Lance stepped around a corner leading his horse.

  “Just thinking out loud.” Denver leaned against a stall door to take a drink from his canteen. “I came in to tell you I think something’s happened to that spotted cow’s calf. She just stands down by the windmill and bawls and bawls. I’ve looked, but I can’t find the little bull.”

  “Come on, I’ll look with you. Did you happen to see any buzzards or any tracks? Coyotes could have taken it.”

  They walked out of the barn together in the bright sunlight. “No, I looked all around. I didn’t see any sign of a predator or any blood or anything.”

  Pulling himself into the saddle, Lance headed out of the paddock. Denver mounted his horse and followed closely behind. The ride from the outbuildings to the windmill was about half a mile, giving him even more unwanted time to think. Should he call and apologize? He started to ask his boss’s opinion, but he was ashamed to mention how he’d messed up with the beautiful woman. Glancing over at Lance, he noticed how tired he looked. “Do you feel bad, Boss?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Okay, he didn’t want to talk. He probably had problems of his own. Women problems, more than likely. Turning his attention to the matter at hand, Denver scanned the surroundings. A sound to the right drew his attention. “There she is, Lance. See? She’s just standing there lowing like mad.”

  “I see her. You’re right. She’s trying to call up that little bull. Let’s split up.” He pointed to the right. “You head around those scrub oaks and I’ll circle by the windmill. Maybe he’s fallen down in a ravine or something.”

  “Will do.” Denver started off, shading his eyes with his hand, surveying the surrounding rocky terrain. He knew to keep his eyes open for rattlesnakes, he’d already seen two big ones this year. A good size snake could kill a calf with one strike. “Where are you, you little rascal?” he muttered.

  As he rode, he kept seeing Bryn’s pretty face in his mind’s eyes. “Maybe, I should call her. Just to apologize.” Leaving things the way they stood didn’t seem right.

  Suddenly a sound caused him to pull up on the reins. He could hear a faint bleating noise. “Where in the world?” Denver dismounted and began walking slowly, cocking his head to one side to see if he could hear the noise again.

  Sure enough, he heard it – below him. Moving forward beneath a spreading oak, he found a depression in the ground, an old well. “Hey, boss! Lance! I think I found him!” Denver waved his arm to Lance, who was about two hundred yards away. The cow came hurrying forward as if she was relieved the men had found what she’d been trying to tell them all the time.

  Lance came galloping forward, jumping from the saddle and dropping the reins to ground tie his mount. “What’s the situation?”

  “I think we’ve got an old well here.” Denver pointed toward an overgrown spot where some broken timbers were visible if you leaned far enough over the hole.

  “What the hell? I never knew this was here.”

  Denver glanced around at the trees and bushes. “I think this was an old home place.”

  Lance went to his knees and sure enough, he could hear the weak bleating of a calf. “Get my flashlight out of my saddlebag.”

  Denver did as he was asked, and Lance laid flat on the ground and shone the light down in the hole. “Damn, he’s deep.” He moved the beam around and tried to see the condition of the shaft. “This looks iffy, Bolden.”

  “Do you want me to shoot him, Boss?” He didn’t want to, but Denver hated to think of anything suffering.

  “Hell, no. I’m going down after him. Tie a rope to my saddle horn.”

  “Let me go down, Lance.”

  “What? Do you think I’m too old or too fat?”

  Denver knew they were both nervous. “Neither.” He grinned. “Both.”

  “Just do as I say, I’m calling the shots here.”

  Denver readied the rope and brought it to Lance, who’d put on his gloves in preparation for repelling down the sides of the well. “I found a flashlight too. I don’t think you’ll be able to see very well past the first few feet.”

  “I think you’re right. I just hope the rocks are stable.”

  “Be careful, Boss, there’s no telling what condition this well shaft is in.”

  “Will do, just stand by.”

  Denver knelt next to the well shaft to steady the rope with one hand while he held the flashlight with the other. After a few tense moments, he heard Lance’s voice.

  “I have no idea how that calf fell so far; the opening is practically blocked down here. I’m going to have to climb around an outcropping of rock.”

  “Be careful!” He’d barely got the words out of his mouth when he heard rocks tumbling and Lance yell out once.

  Then there was silence.

  “Lance! Boss! Can you hear me!” Denver knew the situation had just gone to hell in a hand basket. “A cave-in,” he whispered. He jumped up and tied the rope to a tree. Bending over the hole, he shone the light down inside. “Lance!”

  No answer.

  “Oh, hell.” He jumped up and looked around. Grabbing his phone, he called the ranch office. “I need help.” Denver explained the situation to Jacob, who assured him help was on the way.

  …At the shop, Bryn was elbow deep in favors for a baby shower when she heard Tricia cry out. She dropped the box of plastic baby bottles filled with blue M&Ms and ran to the front to find Tricia on her knees crying. “Tricia, on my goodness! What’s wrong?” Bryn rushed to her and Nathan McCoy ran around the counter to help her up.

  “Lance is in trouble. I have to go to him.”r />
  “What happened?” Bryn asked, her heart in her throat.

  “He and Denver were searching for a lost calf,” Nathan explained. “They found where it had fallen in a well and Lance went down after it. There’s been a cave-in.”

  “I need to go to him. I need to go.” Tricia cried. “Is he hurt?”

  “I don’t know, ma’am,” Nathan answered. “My brothers are working frantically to get him out. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  “Oh, my God. Let’s hurry.”

  As Nathan helped Tricia to the door, Bryn walked ahead of them. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything here.” She watched out the window until they loaded up and drove off. Once she was alone, Bryn couldn’t seem to concentrate. Even though Nathan hadn’t mentioned Denver being in trouble, she couldn’t help but worry about him. What if something happened to him and she never got the chance to speak to him again?

  As the minutes ticked by, Bryn paced back and forth. She turned on the radio, hoping there might be news, but the accident wasn’t mentioned. When she heard a song dedicated to a man on his birthday by his wife of twenty years, she could feel tears slip down her cheeks as she prayed for the safety of the two men. They deserved years of happiness as well.

  With only two customers all afternoon, the hours seemed to go on forever. As soon as she could, Bryn closed the shop and headed for Tebow. There might not be anything she could do to help, and if there wasn’t she’d make sure to stay out of the way. She was worried about Lance, of course, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Denver. Bryn needed to see him with her own two eyes and know he was okay.

  When she pulled underneath the big arched sign at the gate of the ranch, Bryn followed the traffic. There were people coming and going with heavy equipment. The sight worried her. The accident must be much more serious than she’d realized.

  Not really knowing where she was going, Bryn parked by the barn. To her relief, she saw Nathan go by on a four-wheeler. She waved him down and he offered to take her to the site of the accident.

  “Have they made any progress getting to Lance?” she asked.