by Liz Adair
“Not really!”
He grinned. “Well, it didn’t run over me personally, but it ran over my pickup. It went up over the fender and hood and continued on down the road. I went sliding along after it on three wheels and a hub.”
She smiled back. “I’m glad to know it’s happened to someone else.”
Grange didn’t reply. He looked at his feet for a moment and cleared his throat, and when Mandy stepped away, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and said, “I’ve got to run downriver to buy some groceries. Do you have any shopping to do? Would you like to come with me?”
She considered. “Why, yes. As a matter of fact, the cupboard is bare. I was just wondering what we were going to have for dinner, since Leesie opened the last can of soup last night.”
He held out his hand in an after-you gesture. As she started walking toward his truck, he walked beside her. “A can of soup? I heard you make a great pot of chili.”
She laughed. “I know who told you that. But I would say that a hungry man is no fair judge.” She climbed in the cab as Grange held the door for her, and then she watched as he walked around to the driver’s door. His mouth was set in happy lines, and his blue eyes had a merry look about them as he got in.
He started the truck. “It will be nice to have company on the way down.”
Mandy replied suitably, and they continued on in silence for a while. Grange was the one who spoke first. “I noticed you were marching to Nettie’s tune all afternoon.”
“I’m glad to do it. She seems to know what she’s doing.”
He agreed and went on to talk about other levy elections Nettie had presided over. Mandy asked questions, trying to understand the process, and before they knew it, they were at the market in Stallo. They shopped separately and met again after checking out. Grange had large plastic bins with locking tops in the back of the pickup that they stowed their groceries in, and as they drove home, he told the story of how he lost a pickup load of food to a flock of crows one summer when he was a teenager and working at a logging camp upriver. “I had come to town to do the shopping for all the workers,” he explained. “There was a pretty girl that worked at a drive-in, so I stopped for lunch and stayed too long. By the time I got out, there wasn’t much left of the meat or cheese or eggs. They didn’t care much for the salad.”
“So what did you do?”
“I went shopping again, but I paid for it myself. It cost me almost a month’s wages.”
Mandy countered with a story about how she had gone out with her grandfather on fall roundup as camp cook, and how a grizzled old cowboy taught her to make biscuits in a Dutch oven after her first attempt turned out to be hockey pucks.
They shared other stories of monstrous failures. Mandy told about her first paying gig, playing the organ for a wedding at a huge cathedral, and how she lost the key to the organ just before the service. Grange told about trying to set the brake on a flatcar full of logs but turning it the wrong way so that it rolled down the hill and coasted a mile before he got it stopped. “It was a spur line,” he said, “so there was no danger of a collision. But my boss was really torqued because he had to send someone out to haul it back up the hill.”
Night came on as they drove. Mandy asked about working in the woods and watched Grange in the dim light cast by dashboard dials as he talked. He had a nice profile with a straight nose and high brow. A week’s worth of beard fringed his strong chin, and his dark hair fell over his forehead. Every now and then, he’d turn to her as he talked, and, though she knew his eyes were blue, in the dim light they looked dark. She could see the curve of his mouth and thought how much better he looked when he was laughing.
He smiled a lot when he talked about logging, even when he said his mother made him promise he’d get an education and find another way to earn a living. “It’s one of the most dangerous jobs there is. My grandfather, my father, and my uncle Jacob were all killed in logging accidents. I know that, and yet there’s nothing like being out there in the woods, working with an experienced crew, making it happen. I got my degree, like my mother asked, but I still work in the woods during the summers. Or I did, anyway.”
“That’s past tense?”
Grange turned off the highway onto Shingle Mill Road. “Yeah.” He didn’t offer any more, so Mandy didn’t pry, and they rode in silence to the district office.
He pulled up beside the Miata and got her groceries out of the back while she popped the trunk. “This will hold a couple loaves of bread,” he said. “Where do I put the rest?”
“In the front seat. Just stack it in.” She opened the passenger-side door.
When all the groceries were stowed, she closed the door and extended her hand. “Thanks a lot, Grange,” she said. “I enjoyed the ride.”
“You’re welcome, Dr. Steenburg.” He clasped her hand briefly and then walked around to open her door.
She followed him, and just before she got in, she said, “Call me Mandy.”
There was the briefest of pauses before he said, “All right, Mandy.”
She looked at him narrowly, but his face was in shadow, and she couldn’t see his expression. She found the key on the floor under the seat, and as she started the car, Grange closed the door and stepped away. She waved at him, backed out of the parking space, and headed for home. Looking in the rearview mirror as she turned onto Shingle Mill Road, she saw he was standing where she left him, watching her drive away.
Even though Doc McDonald said not to, Mandy had intended to worry about her car all the way home. She intended to drive slowly in case another wheel should fall off. But she forgot about that, and instead played back in her mind her conversation with Grange. The corners of her mouth lifted as she remembered him telling about riding on the front of the railroad car, holding on to the brake, too scared to turn it. She smiled, too, at the story about Grange slicing his leg open when he worked out in the woods and how the cook had sewn him up with quilting thread. It wasn’t a funny story, but the way he told it had made her laugh out loud. She didn’t know what made him extend the invitation to go downriver, but she definitely preferred Grange Friend to Grange Foe.
She reached the turnoff from Timberlain Road before she remembered to worry about the car. Shaking her head at her fears, she shifted down, made the turn, and accelerated around the curve.
Mandy saw that Leesie was home, and someone else was there, too. It wasn’t Jake. They had decided Leesie wouldn’t have friends over when Mandy wasn’t home, and besides, this was a sedan that Mandy had never seen before. She parked, got the grocery bags out of the front seat, and climbed the stairs, looking at the car as she passed for some clue as to who it could be.
Leesie met her at the door. She took the bags from her sister and said, “I’ll take care of the groceries. Christmas has come, so you must greet your company.”
Mandy’s brow creased as she relinquished her burden. “What are you talking about, Leesie?”
“A fellow named Guy Noel. Says he knows you?”
“Guy? Is he here?” Mandy grabbed for the doorframe as she stepped in.
At her appearance, a man rose from the couch. Of medium height, he had broad shoulders, a lean face with a well-tended Van Dyke, brown eyes, and brown hair cut short.
“Hello, cherie,” he said.
MANDY WAITED FOR the earth to tip back to a horizontal plane before she spoke. “Hello, Guy.” It came out sounding a little breathless. “What on earth are you doing clear up here?” She didn’t offer to shake hands.
“I’m going to an international conference in Vancouver. Canada is right next door, almost, so I took an extra day and thought I’d drop by and see you.”
Mandy sat in the chair opposite the couch. “Oh? Is the district sending you?”
Guy cleared his throat. “No. There wasn’t any money in the budget, but it was something I wanted to attend.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re French-Canadian, aren’t you? Old stomping grounds?”
Guy brushed the suggestion aside with a wave of his hand. “No, I’m from Quebec. I’m here to do research on an article I want to write.”
Mandy took a deep breath and exhaled. She smiled for the first time since greeting her guest. “Well, it’s nice to see you. We can offer you supper. Would you prefer chicken noodle or vegetable soup?”
“I picked up some chicken noodle at the Qwik-E Market,” Leesie announced. “It’s in the pot. Not that I’m listening to your conversation or anything.”
“That’s all right, Leesie,” Mandy said, standing. “We won’t exclude you. Come into the kitchen, Guy, and talk to me while I set the table. Then we’ll eat, and afterward, Leesie will play for you.”
“Um, I was going to go study with Jake,” Leesie said.
“Not tonight. We have a guest.” Mandy gave her sister a meaningful look before turning to Guy. “Where are you staying?”
“I hadn’t made any plans. I suppose there’s someplace in town, unless you’ll let me stay on your couch.”
“You wouldn’t get a wink of sleep on that couch.” Mandy picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Elizabeth? This is Dr. Steenburg. Does your grandmother have a room for tonight? Good. How late do you work? Okay. I’ll make sure he’s there before then so you can show him where to go. Call your grandmother and reserve the room for him, okay? Thanks.”
Mandy hung up and began to set place mats, silverware, and glasses on the table. “You’re in luck. There are two beds for hire in this town, and one of them is available. You’ll have to be at the Qwik-E Market by eight thirty, though, to find your way.”
Guy looked at his watch. “That’s in less than an hour.”
Mandy grinned. “We’ll have to eat fast, and then Leesie can play. You can come and see the district offices tomorrow before you head out to Vancouver.”
Leesie dished up the soup, and as they ate, Mandy and Guy talked about what was going on in the Albuquerque schools. After dinner, they worked together to get the kitchen clean. Then Mandy asked Guy to sit on the couch again, and she commanded Leesie to get her instrument.
They played the Schubert number and were halfway through the other when Leesie mentioned that Guy needed to get on his way if he was going to meet Elizabeth before she went off shift.
“Oh, my goodness, yes,” Mandy said. “I was so into the music that I forgot the time. Here.” She grabbed a napkin from the table and drew a map to the Qwik-E Market and another from there to the district office.
“Come in the morning about nine.” Mandy smiled as she gave the napkin to Guy. “I’ve got an hour free then, and I can tell you all about the challenges of a small district.”
“Yeah. Sure.” Guy took the napkin and stuck it in his shirt pocket. “Walk me to the car, cherie?”
Mandy laughed as she opened the door. “You’re in Washington, Guy. Walking is not a social exercise up here— at least not for people bred in the desert. It’s raining.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Come see me tomorrow.”
He patted his breast pocket. “I have the map. I’ll be there.”
“Good.” She waved to him as he descended the porch steps, and then she closed the door and leaned against it.
“I’m getting the feeling,” Leesie said as she put her cello in the case, “that I’m not the only one who left Albuquerque because of a man.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Oh, puh-leeze! Do you think I didn’t see how you kept either the width of the room or the kitchen table between you?”
“I kissed him on the cheek.”
“Yeah, with me standing right beside you. I notice you wouldn’t go out in the dark with him.”
“Not on your life.”
Leesie set her case in the corner. She didn’t turn around as she said, “I also noticed there was a wedding ring on his left hand.”
“There always has been.” Mandy walked over and hugged her sister. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“So am I, Sweetiebug. But who’s going to chaperone you tomorrow?”
“I’ll get Mo, or Mrs. Berman.” Mandy grinned. “Or better still, I’ll get Grange.”
Then, without sparing another thought for the man who was driving through the rain and the dark, following a sketchy map drawn on a napkin, Mandy picked up a book she had begun and settled down to read.
THE NEXT MORNING at work, the first thing Mandy did as soon as she checked her calendar was sort through the papers Edith had put in her inbox. When she spied the familiar round penmanship on wide-ruled notebook paper that heralded another list of commandments from Nettie, Mandy stood and saluted.
“What was that about?”
She looked up to see Grange in the doorway. “Oh, hi.” Her eyes twinkled as she sat down. “I just got another set of marching orders from Nettie.”
He smiled and entered. “You catch on fast.” He held out a red and white can. “I found this in my truck this morning. Your groceries must have been fraternizing with mine on the way home last night.”
Mandy took the can and read the label. “You’re sure it’s not yours?”
He shook his head as he sank into the side chair and stretched out his long legs. “I haven’t eaten tomato soup since I got out of grade school. We used to have it every Friday. Tomato soup and toasted cheese sandwiches.”
“Oh, me too.” Mandy held the can to her breast. “Didn’t you just love it?”
Grange rubbed his bearded chin as he considered. “No.”
“Oh.” She set the can down on her desk. “I thought you were at the high school all morning.”
“I am. We’re a little more than a week away from Opening Festival, and it’s getting to be crunch time. I just came back to give you your soup.”
She grinned. “You lie through your teeth. You didn’t drive over here just to give me a can of soup.”
“Well, I needed to get a stack of posters. Oscar is taking a crew and going downriver to plaster the area.”
“What can I do to help?”
Grange stood. “You’re doing it. You’ve got Nettie minding the levy, Mo minding the budget, Midge writing a grant, and Harvey Berman’s office getting organized.”
Mandy cocked her head. “I can’t tell if you’re serious or sarcastic.”
“I’m serious. Though Harvey is the only one who doesn’t seem to be getting with the program.”
She laughed. “He will. I’m going to have Mo sit down with him and teach him about budgeting, and I’m going to send him to a couple of other districts to observe their methods. Before we’re through, we’ll make a manager out of him.”
“If I were a betting man… ” Grange’s voice trailed off as something outside caught his eye. “Now, who would that be?”
She stood and walked to the window. “Oh, that’s a friend of mine from Albuquerque,” she said. “His name is Guy Noel.”
Grange lifted an eyebrow. “He’s a little far afield, isn’t he?”
“Not too far. He’s on his way to a seminar in Vancouver.” As Mandy waved at Guy, she said, “Stay for a moment, and I’ll introduce you.”
“He looks very natty,” Grange commented.
Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “Natty? Where did you get that expression?”
“From Granny Timberlain. Gramps would say he looks fine as frog’s hair.”
Mandy wrinkled her nose at Grange as she walked past him and out to the mezzanine.
“Uncle Buck would say he’s done up like a dog’s dinner,” he called out to her.
She shook her head. “I don’t understand that at all.” She leaned over the railing and called, “Hello, Guy! Come on up.” She watched him mount the steps and smiled as she waited for him to walk around to her office. “I see you found the place all right.”
He patted his breast pocket and smiled down at Mandy. “I have your map.”
“Let me introduce you to the assistant superintendent, Grange Timberlain.” Mandy held out her hand in Grange’s direct
ion.
Guy’s eyes flicked away from her face momentarily, but he barely acknowledged the other man’s presence.
“Well, then, I’ll be off,” Grange said. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr.… uh… ”
“Noel,” Mandy supplied.
Guy nodded absently in Grange’s direction and turned to face Mandy. “Is an hour all you can give me?” he said in an undervoice.
Mandy looked up at Grange as he passed in front of her and out the door. The corners of his mouth lifted as he sketched a wave, and she felt her cheeks get warm. She turned to Guy. “I’ve never known you to be rude before.”
“What? Oh, you wanted me to make nice to that hayseed?” He closed the door. “I didn’t come here to make small talk with rustics. I came to see you, Mandy.” He took her by the hand and led her to the far corner of the room, out of the line of sight of anyone on the mezzanine.
Mandy didn’t say anything. Guy’s nearness, the smell of his aftershave, the crispness of his pale green shirt, the way his hair falling artfully over his forehead accentuated his eyes— all flooded her with memories of a different time, a warmer place, almost a different Mandy Steenburg.
“Listen, cherie,” he said with quiet urgency. “I’ve come with Dr. Brenner’s blessing. He wants you to come back. He hasn’t filled your position. We all want you back.”
Mandy tore her eyes away from his face. Looking at the floor, she shook her head. “I can’t,” she whispered.
“I want you back. Do you understand, cherie? I want you back, and I’ll make it happen. I’ll leave Mary. I— I’ve left her, actually. I don’t love her anymore. I love you.”
Mandy felt as if she were caught in one of the eddies in the Hiesel River, being whirled around and sucked under. She closed her eyes to block out the feeling of the room turning. As she did so, Guy lifted her right hand and pressed his lips against her fingers. She could almost hear the water pulsing and surging in her ears as the whirlpool dragged her down.