Man From Montana

by Brenda Mott

  A short time later, Kara sat in the church pew next to Liz and did her best to focus on the sermon, but her thoughts were a confused whirlwind. She was glad when she and Liz were finally seated at a table at the diner. This time, she’d chosen to wait in the crowded line. No way could she bring herself to eat at the Spur.

  They ordered, and Kara struck up idle conversation with Liz. “I noticed you were pretty friendly with Myrna and Violet today.”

  Liz squirmed. “Well, it’s not for me to judge them.”

  Kara nearly choked on her ice water.

  “I know,” Liz said with a small laugh. “That’s what I was doing before. But Myrna actually phoned me after seeing me at the Silver Spur.”

  “Really? You didn’t mention it.”

  “That’s because at first I was embarrassed, since I’d been catty about her and Violet. Anyway, Myrna invited me to go antiquing with her. She found this amazing shop over in Clear Water, and we had a ball together. Turns out we have a lot more in common than I thought.”

  “That’s great.” Kara couldn’t remember hearing Liz sound this happy in a long while.

  “So, did you go anywhere last night?” Liz asked.

  Kara felt her entire body flush. She’d gone somewhere all right.

  “Kara?”

  “What? Oh—yes, I did. I, um, went to the Silver Spur.”

  “With your girlfriends?”

  She sighed. “No. I went with Derrick and his son, which was a huge mistake.”

  “Why? What happened?” Liz asked casually, and Kara stared at her mother-in-law, taken aback by her lack of disapproval.

  “You’re right. I should’ve listened to my instincts. It’s too soon for me to move on with another man when I still love Evan.”

  Liz reached out and took Kara’s hand. “Kara. I didn’t invite you out today just to have lunch and share church services.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I thought we could talk. Maybe go for a drive?”

  “Sure.” Kara frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yes and no. I’m fine, if that’s what you mean.” She turned her attention to the bowl of soup their waitress had placed in front of her. “I have something I want to speak to you about, that’s all.”

  “Now you’ve got me curious.”

  “Well, it’ll have to wait.” Liz dipped her spoon into the broth. “There are too many ears in here.” With a jerk of her head, she indicated the crowded room.

  Kara could barely contain her curiosity, and was glad when the check came and they could leave.

  Liz drove toward the cemetery, and Kara assumed they were going to visit Evan’s grave, as they often did after Sunday services. But instead, Liz pulled in to a section of the cemetery where she and Bill owned joint plots. They’d been so sure they would pass on before their son, that they’d never thought to buy a family plot. Evan rested in an area several sections away.

  Normally, she and Liz visited Evan’s grave first, then Bill’s. Kara really didn’t think much about the reverse order. Maybe Liz needed to pay her respects to her husband right away this afternoon. Kara stood with her mother-in-law beside the black marble headstone that closely matched Evan’s. It bore a picture of Bill, wearing a hat decorated with fishing lures, smiling as he held up a huge trout he’d caught at his favorite fishing hole. It was the way Kara remembered him best.

  Liz had brought folding lawn chairs, and Kara helped her set them up near the gravestone. They sipped Cokes, and Liz put a white rose at the foot of the stone. “I brought you here for a reason,” Liz said, sitting back down in her chair.

  “Oh?”

  “I had a dream last night. About me and Bill.” Her eyes misted over. “It seemed so real, I woke up really devastated to find out it wasn’t.”

  “I know what you mean,” Kara said softly. “I dream about Evan all the time.”

  “This dream was different, somehow,” Liz said. “It was like Bill was right there with me. And it made me remember all the more how happy I’d been with him.”

  Kara smiled. “He was a good man. I really miss him.”

  “You and me both.” Liz pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop crying for him. But Myrna said something to me the other day, when we were out, that got me thinking. She made the comment that she’d never expected to see me at the Silver Spur. You can imagine I was a bit startled by the irony of that.”

  “Is that what made you realize you’d misjudged her?” Kara asked.

  “Partly. She told me it wasn’t so much seeing me in a bar as it was seeing me out having a good time.” Liz raised her face to the sun. “I didn’t even realize how much fun I’d actually had with you and your friends until I went home that night.”

  “You mean the rowdy, heathen crowd wasn’t too much for you?”

  “Okay, maybe I’m not one to drink. But the music was good, even if it was too loud. Kara, the bottom line is, I’ve been in denial. I didn’t want to admit that I’d had fun because it made me feel guilty.”

  Kara stared at her, sure her ears were playing tricks on her. “I can relate.”

  “I’m sure you can. Myrna got me started thinking about things, and then when I dreamed about Bill last night, I finally realized something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I was so happy with him, that all I’ve noticed since he’s been gone is how sad I am without him. I’ve let the years pass without truly enjoying them, especially after I lost Evan, too.”

  “I know,” Kara said, laying her hand on Liz’s arm. “It’s okay if you want to cry.”

  “No, sweetie, you don’t understand.” Liz crumpled the tissue in both hands. “I’m through with crying, and I’m through with being sad all the time. I’ll never forget the years I had with Bill, or any of the memories we shared. But I’ve been so busy mourning, I forgot to live. And Bill wouldn’t have wanted that.”

  Kara smiled sadly. “No, he wouldn’t.”

  “And Evan wouldn’t want that for you, either.” She looked at her hands, clasped in her lap. “I’m so ashamed of myself, Kara. I’ve been too busy focusing on how I felt, on how much I needed you, to see that you might need someone to lean on, too. How selfish can a person be?”

  “Don’t say that,” Kara said. “You’re not selfish.”

  “I’m not? Do you realize that I sometimes leave the sprinkler on longer than necessary, hoping the grass will grow faster so you’ll have to come over and mow it.”

  Kara laughed. “You do not.”

  “Oh, yes. And even though at first I really did need you to drive me around, and make sure I remembered to take my medication, et cetera, et cetera, I think I was actually scared. You’re like a daughter to me, Kara, and I guess I was afraid of losing you, too.”

  “Oh, Liz. Why did you think that?”

  Liz leveled her chin. “I figured if you met another man and fell in love, you’d marry him and move on with a new life…a new family. And I’d die alone and lonely. A dried up old hag, living with my ten cats.”

  Kara laughed. “You only have three cats. And I would never, ever forget about you.” She leaned close, looking directly into Liz’s eyes. “You’re family, Liz. Now and forever. Nothing will ever change that.”

  “Oh, Kara.” Liz leaned over, hugging her. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, trying to hold you back from finding happiness again.”

  “You weren’t,” Kara said. “I—I didn’t think I was ready to move on, either.”

  “Until you met Derrick,” Liz finished. “Am I right?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Honey, I saw the way you looked at him that day we ate lunch at the Silver Spur. And more importantly, I saw the way he looked at you.”

  Kara’s mood plummeted. “Maybe before. But after last night…”

  “What happened last night?” Liz asked, then hastily added, “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”
>
  “No. It’s okay,” Kara said. “As I said, I went out with Derrick and his son last night, to the Silver Spur.” She explained about the incident with Kerri and her brat pack. Leaving out the intimate details, she simply ended with telling Liz how Derrick had come in when he dropped her off. “We were talking, and the phone rang. I let the machine get it, and…”

  “Oh, God.” Liz closed her eyes. “He heard Evan’s voice.”

  Kara nodded. “It upset him pretty badly.”

  “I can imagine.” Liz pursed her lips together in a hesitant gesture.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t want to say anything,” Liz said. “But, Kara, the message on the machine bothers me, too.”

  “What?” She would never have expected her mother-in-law to say such a thing.

  “You know I love watching home videos of Evan, all the way from his first steps to your wedding day. And I’ll always keep pictures of him out where I can see them every day. But, honey, when I call your house and get the machine…well, it makes me cry every time.”

  “Oh, Liz.” Kara put a hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I never thought…”

  “Of course you didn’t.” Liz laid her hand on Kara’s knee. “I don’t ever want to forget what he sounded like…especially his laugh.” Her eyes welled again, and she blinked. “But when I hear him on the machine, it reminds me every single time that he’s not home. And he never will be.”

  Kara felt tears sliding down her own cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I never thought about it that way. I just couldn’t bring myself to change the message.”

  “I understand, Kara. Really, I do.”

  “I wish you’d said something.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt you, dear. You’ve been hurt enough already…. Kara, don’t let Derrick get away. He seems like a pretty good guy. Maybe you ought to give things a chance with him.”

  Kara twisted the plastic ring on her Coke bottle. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Of course you can,” Liz said. “I was wrong to tell you it’s too soon. That’s not for me to decide, and it’s certainly not anyone else’s business in this town. If you want to go out with Derrick, then do it.”

  “Thank you,” Kara said. “That means a lot to me. But I’m so confused right now. I care a lot about Derrick…I think I might even be falling in love with him.”

  “Then tell him.”

  Kara knew how hard those words had come. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

  “Well, your heart will tell you when you are.” Liz looked at Bill’s headstone. “I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love again after Bill died. And I’m still not so sure I will. But I’m finally open to the idea.” Her eyes sparkled. “And I really think you should keep going to the Silver Spur.”

  “It’s a nice bar,” Kara said, deadpan. “The music is good.”

  “And the guitar player is hot,” Liz said, elbowing her.

  Kara laughed. “Yeah. He is.”

  WHEN DERRICK and Connor pulled up in Shelly’s driveway, she was outside, trimming the flower bed. She wore jean shorts and a black tank top, and her dark hair was pulled up into some sort of clamp thingy on the back of her head. She looked up, then turned off the Weed Eater and propped it against the porch.

  “Hey, Connor,” she said, coming over to the truck. “How was your visit with your dad?”

  Derrick hated it that she always referred to Connor’s time with him as a “visit,” as though his son were a guest in his home.

  “Fine,” Connor said.

  Shelly immediately picked up on his tone. “What is it?” Her gaze darted to Derrick. “Something happened, didn’t it?”

  He’d gone to get Connor’s chair, and as his son settled into it, Derrick faced her. “Yes, Shelly, something happened.” He looked at Connor. “Do you want to tell her or should I?”

  Connor shrugged, not looking up. “I did something stupid.”

  Shelly folded her arms.

  “I busted out Kerri Hendricks’s truck window.”

  “You—Connor! Why on earth would you do something like that?” She glared at Derrick, as though blaming him. “Come inside and tell me what happened. You, too, Derrick.”

  He hated going into her house. But she was Connor’s mother after all, and this was Connor’s home…his second home as far as Derrick was concerned.

  “Is Carl in?” he asked, stepping into the living room. Her husband was a truck driver.

  “No. He’s in Boise.”

  Shelly closed the door, keeping the swamp-cooler-chilled air from drifting outside. The room was somewhat dark, the brown area rug and closed drapes creating a cave-like atmosphere that was comforting and stifling at the same time.

  “Have a seat,” Shelly said.

  He didn’t want to, but he sat and listened while Connor told her what he’d done. Derrick filled in details here and there.

  “I didn’t know you’d made a habit of taking him to the Silver Spur,” Shelly said.

  “It was family night,” Derrick explained. “There’s no alcohol served.”

  To his surprise, she only nodded. “So, what are you planning to do about this, Connor? You’re paying for the window, how?”

  “Extra chores from Dad…my allowance from you.” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I do,” she said. “You’re going to sell your laptop.”

  “What?” Connor’s gaze shot up to meet hers. “Mom—no! You can’t make me do that.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “But it’s the only thing I have to do around here!” He looked to Derrick for support. “Dad, tell her. If I can’t get online or play my video games, what am I supposed to do?”

  Derrick opened his mouth, then clamped it shut. Shelly was right. Connor had been abusing his computer privileges lately anyway. He could always earn back the rights to another one down the line.

  “I’m sure you’ll find something,” Shelly said firmly. “Aren’t you taking riding lessons?”

  “Well, yeah, but only once a week! What am I supposed to do the rest of the time?”

  She shrugged. “Not my problem. I didn’t throw the rocks.”

  “Damn!”

  “That’s another added chore,” she said. “You know the rules.”

  “Mom!” Connor slumped in his chair as though his life were over. “This isn’t fair!”

  “Really?” Derrick gave him a stern look. “I’d say it wasn’t fair of you to break Kerri’s window, no matter what she did to you. We’ve already discussed this.”

  “Jeez.” Connor stared at his hands in his lap, flexing them in nervous anger.

  “It’s not like you can’t save up to buy another laptop,” Shelly said, echoing Derrick’s thoughts.

  “That’ll take forever.”

  “You can’t expect Kerri to wait forever while you earn the money to pay for her window.” Shelly smiled humorlessly. “I’ve seen her pickup. Etched glass doesn’t come cheap.”

  “Her dad’s loaded,” Connor said. “He can get her a new window, then I’ll pay him back.”

  “No,” Derrick said. “You heard your mother. Your actions—your consequences.”

  “Sh—shoot!” Connor slammed back against his chair. “This sucks.”

  “It’s settled,” Shelly said. “Now go unpack your things.”

  Still grumbling, Connor made his way to his bedroom, his duffel bag hooked over the back of his chair.

  Derrick waited until he was out of earshot. “Thanks,” he said.

  “For what?”

  “For backing me on this. For thinking of a better punishment than I could.” At least they were able to act as a team when it came to raising their son.

  “What did you have in mind for punishing him?” Shelly asked.

  He shrugged. “I’d only thought about the chore thing—and possibly grounding him from riding, but I didn’t want to do that.”

  “No, and I’m glad you didn’t.” Shell
y’s expression softened. “I appreciate what you’ve done for him with that.” She smiled. “He told me all about it on the phone. I’ve never seen him so excited.”

  “I know. I think it’ll definitely be a good thing.”

  “When does he start his lessons? I’d like to come see him ride.”

  “Anytime now. Melanie got the medical forms back from Dr. Sorenson the other day, so everything’s set.”

  “Well, if you want to start him riding while he’s here with me, that would be fine,” Shelly said. “I’ll drive him to God’s Little Acre, and you can come out, too.”

  “Sure.” Her generosity took him by surprise. Normally, she was a stickler on not giving him any extra time with Connor, other than for special occasions like Father’s Day or a birthday.

  “All right, then.” Shelly stood. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Fair enough.” Derrick turned to go out the door.

  “Derrick.”

  He turned. “Yeah?”

  She hesitated. “Maybe we could work something out for you to spend more time with Connor during the school year. Maybe even joint custody.”

  He stared at her. “You’re serious?”

  She nodded. “He’s told me he wants to be with you more, and he’s getting older now. He needs his father.”

  Derrick smiled, turning back to give her a brief hug. “Thank you, Shelly.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “And one more thing.”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Thanks for letting him buy that pawnshop guitar. He really surprised me.”

  She chuckled. “That’s exactly what he wanted to do. I’m proud of him.”

  “So am I.” He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “I guess if we didn’t do a lot of things right in the past, at least we got one thing right.”

  He opened the door. “See you later.”

  As he made his way to the truck, he began to think about Kara again, and the dark mood that had kept him company all week returned. What was he going to do about his feelings for her?

  He couldn’t very well just turn them off. Yet he couldn’t keep letting her hurt him, hanging on to Evan’s memory and everything she’d shared with the guy. Not that he’d ever expect her to forget her husband. He simply wanted her to let go.