by Sherri Sand
“So you and Kyle are cousins? I don’t recall ever seeing you with Kyle at church.” Her smile was gracious, but a determined question was in her eyes.
He decided to appease her curiosity. “My folks and I attended across town when I was growing up. I visited a few times when I stayed the night with Kyle. I belong to Faith Community now.”
“Ah.” The answer seemed to satisfy, and her smile warmed. “I always hoped Kyle and my daughter—” She laughed self-consciously and glanced down at Trevor. “Well, you know how mothers can be. And now Kyle is married and Sierra is single again.”
Ross slapped his gloves lightly against his leg, and he looked down at Trevor, but the boy wasn’t listening. His attention had been caught by a fuzzy caterpillar that was slowly crawling over the rocks. Ross looked at Abbey. “So, do you want to see the barn? Kyle mentioned you have a horse that needed stabling.”
Abbey laughed and started walking with him toward the barn. “Now there’s a story. My daughter Sierra inherited it, if you can believe that. Miss Libby had no idea when she wrote her will how terrified of horses Sierra is. My daughter is really quite a level-headed person, but she went through a traumatic experience when she was young.” She glanced quickly at Trevor, then gave Ross a negative shake of her head. “I can explain later.”
Throughout the tour of the small barn, the woman gave him more details than he needed to know about her daughter’s life. When Trevor found a black beetle climbing over some rags in the corner of the tack room, Abbey was too busy explaining about Sierra’s divorce to even notice. It felt like gossip and Ross didn’t like it.
He interrupted with a polite smile and brought the conversation back to the barn. “Do you think this would work?”
Abbey laughed again. “Oh, listen to me, I do go on sometimes. I just thought it’d be helpful if you understood what the poor girl has been through.”
He rested his hand on top of a stall door. “That’s thoughtful of you, but I prefer to let people tell their own stories.”
“Oh.” For the first time Abbey had nothing to say.
He hid a grin and let his hand slide off the stall. “Well, if you’ve seen—”
“But there are extenuating circumstances.” A finger waved in protest. “Sierra would never say anything about what’s happened to her. She has a hard time accepting help. And if I can’t find someone who will board her horse, those children will have one more disappointment to deal with.”
A chuckle escaped his lips. “Does she know you’re here?’
She tilted her head. “When a person is under stress, do you think she always knows what’s best for her?”
Ho boy. “And you do, I presume?”
“Of course, I’m her mother.” She clapped her hands together. “Now, let’s talk payment. I’m on a fixed income but I have a little spending money.”
What kind of trouble had Kyle gotten him into?
Sierra dished macaroni and cheese with sliced hot dogs onto Trevor’s plate.
“Macaroni and cheese again?” Braden stared at his plate and made no move for his fork.
“It has hot dogs.” Emory scooted her chair closer to the table.
The phone rang, and Braden jumped up. “I’ll get it.” He reached for the phone, and Sierra’s hand gripped the serving spoon that hovered over her plate. A few cheesy elbow noodles dripped onto the dish.
“Hello?” There was a pause and then his chin pulled in and his brow furrowed. “You want to buy Chance?” Clarity swept across his features, and furious brown eyes shot darts at her.
Sierra took the phone he shoved at her before he pounded up the stairs. “Hello?”
Pure delight lit Greg Adams’ voice. “We love him! Can I drop the payment by in an hour or so?”
If Emory and Trevor weren’t looking at her like she’d just slaughtered their best friend, she would be doing cartwheels. “Certainly. That would be fine.”
A few minutes later, Sierra heard a key in the front door and her mom breezed into the house with a singsong voice. “Who wants blackberry cob-bler?”
Emory pushed back from the table and ran to her grandmother. “Someone bought Chance!”
Shock and dismay rushed over Abbey’s features as she clutched the dessert dish. Then she marched toward the kitchen counter shaking her head with Em trailing behind.
Sierra sighed. “Mom, just say it.”
“I just don’t know how you can do this to them, after all they’ve been through.”
“I’m being responsible. Ensuring they have some stability in their lives. Keeping them safe.”
Abbey set the cobbler down and reached into the cupboard for plates. “It just keeps coming back to that Molly girl, doesn’t it? I should have gotten you into counseling.”
Sierra started clearing the half-eaten macaroni from the table. “That has nothing to do with me selling Chance.” She pulled some storage containers from a drawer. “If I sell him, there’s no moving in with you and no uprooting the kids again.” She just wanted the day over. Mr. Flannery could get his money tomorrow and tell his poor grandson Ronnie that he’d have to live in the dorm, and she could keep looking for a job.
Her mom jerked the silverware drawer open, grabbed a knife and started cutting into the golden biscuits covering the cobbler. “Keep the horse, Sierra. Just give it a few more days.”
“I don’t have a few more days, Mom. I’m being evicted.”
“I’ll pay for Chance’s expenses. I know the perfect—”
“I already sold him, and I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Her mom just never stopped.
Her mom served the cobbler in silence, her back stiff. Braden slunk downstairs and ate his piece, then returned to his room.
After the dishes had been washed and the counter wiped—soap, then bleach—her mom kissed the kids, gave her a brief smile, and left.
Sierra helped the kids get ready for bed earlier than normal. The Adamses would be there any minute, probably with their beaming daughter.
Covers to his chin, Trevor reached up for a hug. “Can you read me a story?”
She kissed him. “Not tonight, sweetie.”
“Pray!” Trevor said.
Sierra stifled a sigh. Her prayers had dried up to nearly nonexistent since the divorce, but she’d kept the routine for the older kids, and Trevor had adopted it too. “Keep Trevor safe, and help him to sleep well. Amen.”
His eyes remained pinched shut. “And help us keep Chance. Amen.”
Her heart broke at the innocent faith that, little by little, would be eroded by unanswered prayers until it would seem pointless to even ask.
Braden stalled in Trevor’s doorway, both hands pressed against the frame. “Why do we have to go to bed now? It’s only seven forty-five.”
Sierra flipped the light off. “We have a big day tomorrow.” Delivering a check to Mr. Flannery.
Emory stood in her pajamas behind Braden. “Excuse me.”
Braden didn’t move so Emory tried to squeeze past.
He pressed his hip against the door to keep her from entering.
Emory pushed harder, her face turning red.
“Braden, let her in!” Sierra said.
He moved, and Em shot into the room. She glared at her brother, then hopped onto the bunk bed above Trevor.
Sierra held Braden’s angry gaze and felt her shoulders drop. “Go get ready for bed, honey.”
He made a disgusted sound but turned and walked into the bathroom. A drawer rolled open. A mere twenty seconds later the toothbrush thunked against the bottom of the drawer, then the drawer banged shut. Sierra sighed. Pick your battles. At least his dad could take care of the cavities.
The house finally quiet, Sierra jogged down the stairs. She breathed deep and felt some of the tension release. Disappointed kids were going to bicker, right? Some back talk had to be normal. But it was the growing disrespect that bothered her. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, her hand on the banister, her thoughts flipping back to when
Braden had been happier, more like himself. Before school started, before summer began. A glimmering memory flickered—of Braden throwing her a wide smile, backpack on his shoulder, ready to go to his dad’s. But he didn’t go. His dad and some buddies had flown to California to go rappelling instead. It had been spring.
It had been the start of broken promises and her children’s broken hearts. She moved to the kitchen and slowly pulled down a mug for cocoa. Maybe Michael needed the stress relief of kid-free weekends. But raising children wasn’t a task that you could get to at your convenience. The kids needed him.
The phone rang as she stirred chocolate powder into the steaming milk, putting a halt to her thoughts.
“Sierra?” a male voice came over the line. “This is Greg Adams. Turns out my wife wasn’t as keen on getting a horse as I thought. We’re going to hold off for a little while.” Sierra felt hope being sucked from the room.
“Oh. Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” Then she hung up.
Sierra thought about her mother’s offer to pay for the horse. The kids would be thrilled if they could keep the animal. A chill ran down her spine at the thought. What if something happened to them? Could she live with that possibility? Sure, not every horse was dangerous, and her kids could probably ride Chance for years and survive unscathed.
But Mr. Flannery was expecting his check in the morning—she needed a miracle. Yet she knew God—He was out of miracles when it came to her.
Sierra woke up and stared at the ceiling, a sense of foreboding pressing down on her. October thirteenth. Mr. Flannery expected to hear from her today—or better yet, hear the sound of a moving truck filled with her belongings.
She pulled on her robe and went to wake the kids.
Emory, her night owl, staggered toward the bathroom, her eyes tiny slits of sleepiness.
“Em, meet us in the kitchen in a few minutes.”
Trevor bounded down the stairs. “I’m hungry.” A moment later she heard a cupboard door bang and then the ping of Fruit Loops hitting the bottom of a cereal bowl.
“Come on, Braden.” She peered into his room for the second time. “Time to get up, lazybones.”
“I don’t want to go to school.”
“Sorry, not an option. And I need you in the kitchen for a family meeting in a few minutes.”
He scowled but got out of bed.
A few minutes later, Sierra pulled out a chair to face them as they hunkered over their cereal bowls. “Guys, we’re going to have to move.”
Braden perked up. “Where?”
“Grandma’s.”
“Aww. I thought we’d have an apartment with a pool.”
Sierra tried to smile. “No. But we shouldn’t be at Grandma’s more than a month or so.”
Emory’s head leaned against her hand, still not fully awake. “I don’t want to move.”
Trevor piped up. “We can make cookies every day.” He grinned at his mom, and she tousled his blond hair. Just what her hips needed.
Forty-five minutes later the bus pulled away and she walked back into the house and strode straight for the kitchen, thoughts pelting her brain. Should she call Greg Adams back and offer to lower Chance’s price? Talk to Greg’s wife about … what? How great horses were and how badly her daughter needed one? Disgust rolled over her. How selfish to want to protect her own children but endanger another.
Braden’s cereal bowl still sat on the table, messy droplets of milk surrounding it. Armed with the dishcloth, she cleared the table and swiped over the milk. On her way back to the sink, the answering machine’s flashing red light caught her eyes.
The cereal bowl quickly clunked down on the counter, she reached to press the button.
“Hi, this is Melissa from Garland Treasures. I just wanted to let you know that we have filled the position.”
Sierra leaned against the counter and stared into the kitchen that by tomorrow would be filled with Ronnie Flannery’s Top Ramen noodles and whatever else college students ate these days. She stared down at the dusting of white crumbs and smear of peanut butter where the kids had made their lunches.
But the job was supposed to be mine.
The phone rested near her elbow, and she slowly picked it up. Her mom was going to be thrilled.
Chapter 6
A bare half ring and her mom picked up.
“Sierra!” Her mom sounded jubilant. She’d probably guessed what was coming.
Sierra took a breath. “Is your offer still open for—?”
“The spare bedrooms are aired and ready. Wal-Mart had their summer sheets on clearance, so I picked some up. I didn’t figure the kids would mind the colors. Fridge and cupboards are stocked, and I was just putting together a casserole for the crew tonight.”
Why am I even surprised? “The crew?”
Her mom sounded like a proud hen with all her chicks gathered under her wing. “Remember I told you about Paul Willans? He and Sylvia are just waiting for the call to come by. He kindly offered to get some boys from his youth group to help load the big items after school. You will need to put those in storage. I’m sure Jim’s Lock & Key has some units available. I knew you’d want to call on that yourself, but I have a little money set aside to pay for it.” Her mom paused. “Let’s see. I think that’s about it. Oh, did you get any boxes?”
The walls were already closing in. “I didn’t know I’d be moving.”
Her mom brushed the comment aside. “I’m sure Paul has plenty. I’ll ask him to bring some when he comes. So, does nine o’clock sound about right?”
Sierra wanted to grab onto something. She felt like she’d mistakenly floated into the rapids and was heading straight for a drop-off. “Sure, Mom. That sounds fine.”
Her mom’s voice grew soft. “I’m so glad you’re coming home, honey.”
Sierra watched the school bus stop, red lights flashing. The doors opened, and Braden came charging out, but stopped halfway down the big steps to stare at their yard.
Two big pickups loaded with boxes dominated the driveway, and another had backed across the yard up to the porch where two football players wrestled her washer into position next to the dryer.
Braden continued down the steps and dropped his backpack onto the sidewalk. “We’re moving today?”
“I hadn’t planned on it being quite so soon, honey.” Sierra waited for a reaction, but he was still digesting the news. She hated putting them through this. If only Mr. Adams had taken the horse or Michael’s check had cleared. A slight smile lifted the corner of Braden’s mouth and she shook off the frustration. Maybe his sense of adventure was kicking in. She took a step to give him a hug, but her mom was already there and got the hug and grin that Sierra longed to feel.
“Today’s a perfect day to move to your grandma’s!” Abbey said.
Braden turned an eager face to her. “Seriously, Mom?”
She touched his shoulder. “Yep.”
“Cool!” He brushed past them to where the guys worked to strap down the appliances.
“Hey, Em,” Sierra said.
Her daughter, who didn’t like change, sidled next to her and tucked under the arm she held out. “Why do we have to move?”
Sierra darted a look at her mom. “Well, Grandma and I thought it would be easier while I’m looking for a job.”
“What about our room?”
“Come here, sweetie.” Sierra’s mom held her arms out, and Emory flew into them. “How would you like your very own room at Grandma’s? I brought some wallpaper books home for you to look at. You can paint and decorate it however you’d like.”
A feeling of panic set in. “Oh, I don’t know if we should do that, Mom. We’re not going to be there that long.”
Her mom frowned. “Sierra, it’s not good for the kids to be moved back and forth, and there’s no guarantee the next job will work out better than this last one."
Three years wasn’t stable?
Her mom continued, “I think you need at least a year to buil
d a good cushion of savings.”
Sierra glanced at the pickup where the sofa leaned upright against the blanket-draped washer and dryer. What her mom said made sense, but it didn’t make the jittery feeling subside. Smothered by love. It was happening already. She could take the advice over the phone and in person for short intervals. But twenty-four hours a day … she was going to be helpfully henpecked into a nervous wreck. Maybe a miracle would fall into her lap and she’d land an amazing job this week. But she had to believe in miracles for them to happen, didn’t she?
Chapter 7
Blindfolded, Braden’s mom laughed from the front seat. “Where are we going?”
Grandma turned and winked at him in the rear seat. “Remember the rule, no questions allowed.”
It was one of his grandma’s favorite games to blindfold somebody and take them out for a treat. But he knew where they were going. He was sure of it, because Grandma had turned right out of the driveway instead of left toward town. If they were going shopping or for ice cream they would have turned left. Instead of houses and buildings he saw fields of grass out his window. The click-clack of the blinker made him sit straighter, trying to see out the windshield around his mom’s seat. Grandma slowed the car and turned.
Yes! There was a barn! He knew it!
Grandma smiled back at him and gave him another wink. She wasn’t afraid of horses. Boy, was his mom going to be surprised. He hoped she didn’t cry. Sometimes he heard her crying at night when she thought he was asleep, and it scared him.
His grandma stopped the car next to the barn. Braden unlatched his seat belt and shoved past Emory to grab out the van’s side door handle.
The barn door opened, and a tall man carrying a tray of tools came out. Cool! Braden jumped out of the van and hurried over to the man. Braden stuck his hands in his pockets and slowed when he got closer. “Can I help?”
The man had on dark jeans like him, but he had an awesome silver belt buckle. Braden wanted one like that. Maybe he could use his dad’s computer and find one on eBay.
The man smiled. “I got it covered, but thanks.”