by Mia Ross
“Right.” Ridge dragged the word out in a sarcastic tone.
This man was really starting to irritate her. One minute he was a total charmer, and the next he was a cynic. “What are you saying?”
“I think Matt’s trying to set us up.”
“That’s crazy,” she protested. “Why would he do that?”
“You know how it is when a friend gets married. They want everybody to be as happy as they are.”
“Matt wouldn’t do that.”
Ridge cocked one disbelieving brow and, far-fetched as the idea seemed, she had to admit he could be right. Matt had changed a lot since Caty came into his life. It was possible he wanted to introduce his old friend to his little sister and had used the wedding as an excuse to get them together. But why Ridge Collins? she moaned silently. She was rooted in Harland with her children, and this free-spirited pilot flew wherever the wind took him, doing whatever he pleased. They had absolutely nothing in common.
Hoping to change the subject, she sipped her coffee. “Why didn’t you come in for supper last night?”
“I didn’t wanna impose on you and the kids.”
She sighed. Apparently, she hadn’t been as gracious yesterday as she’d intended. Setting her coffee down, she swallowed her pride. “I’m sorry about coming down on you about your divorce. I had no right to judge you that way.”
“Don’t worry about it. You didn’t say anything I haven’t thought a million times in the last two years.”
He was being so nice about it, she felt even worse. But he seemed content with putting it behind them, so she decided to follow his lead. “We’ve got eggs and sausage for breakfast. Would you like some?”
“Thanks, but no. I’ve got work to do, and I’d best get started.”
“We all go to church on Sunday mornings,” she commented lightly. “You could come along if you want.”
“I appreciate the invite, but it’s not really my thing.” Draining his mug, he stood and smiled down at her. “You make fantastic coffee.”
Marianne tried very hard not to criticize people, but his lack of interest in attending Sunday service annoyed her. As their guest, it would only be polite for him to accompany them to church. But if she’d learned anything about Ridge in the short time she’d known him, it was that he did exactly what suited him, no matter what other people might think. In her mind, it wasn’t one of his better qualities.
As he headed for the door, she asked, “When will you be back?”
“Later.”
“For lunch?”
A heavy cloud seemed to descend over his usually lighthearted demeanor, and he frowned. “I’ll be back when I’m done.”
“I’m not trying to rope you into anything. I just want to know how many people I have to feed.”
“That’s nice of you, but I take care of myself.”
With that, he all but fled the kitchen and pounded down the back steps. Completely exasperated, Marianne grabbed his empty cup and rinsed it before putting it in the dishwasher. Still fuming, she started pulling dishes from the cupboard.
“I take care of myself,” she mimicked as John came through the back door. She didn’t know how he did it, but he always managed to show up just when the food was ready.
“Lemme guess.” He grinned at her. “Ridge.”
“I was trying to be considerate, and he brushed me off.”
“He’s not used to having folks waiting on him for meals and stuff.” Very predictably, John defended him. “He kind of does his own thing.”
“That’s obvious,” she retorted as Lisa came through the door.
“What’s obvious?” Lisa asked, picking up the plates from the counter to set around the table.
“Ridge does his own thing,” John explained with a grin. “It drives the queen crazy.”
“I noticed that yesterday,” Lisa commented with a grin of her own. “Quite a few sparks there.”
“No.” Marianne pointed a stern finger at her starry-eyed little sister. “No sparks. Irritation and aggravation, but no sparks.”
“Still irritated and aggravated.” John dragged the sports section loose, which fanned the rest of the neatly folded paper across the table.
“I’ll say,” Lisa agreed. “She couldn’t care less about any of the guys around here. What’s so special about Ridge?”
“Not a thing,” Marianne shot back.
“Sure,” Lisa scoffed, adding a laugh that grated on Marianne’s nerves.
Fortunately, the kids came trotting down the stairs, and Marianne announced, “I think I’ll make waffles to go with that casserole. Who wants some?”
“Me.” Without looking up, John raised his hand while he and Kyle scanned last night’s baseball scores.
“I’ll help you, Mommy,” Emily offered eagerly, skipping into the pantry to get her ruffly white apron from its hook.
The familiar routine helped soothe her frayed nerves, and Marianne settled in to enjoy breakfast with her family.
* * *
“Such a beautiful wedding,” the Sunday school teacher complimented Marianne when she dropped Kyle and Emily off for their class. “It couldn’t have been more perfect, could it?”
Marianne agreed with her, as she had with everyone who’d said the exact same thing to her this morning. “Everything worked out just the way we wanted.”
After saying goodbye to the kids, Marianne went upstairs to join John and Lisa. While she was near the back of the church, Pastor Charles hurried over and intercepted her.
“Marianne, I want to thank you again for including Penny and me in your celebration yesterday. We really enjoyed ourselves.”
“Oh, I’m glad,” she replied with a genuine smile. The jovial man in the gray suit and paisley bow tie had married her parents and baptized them all. He held a special place in the Sawyers’ hearts. “That was the plan.”
“If you don’t mind...” Leaning in, he whispered, “My wife wants the recipe for your double-berry pie. I promised her I’d ask.”
Marianne laughed. “It’s one of our favorites, too. I’ll email it to her later today.”
“Bless you.” Beaming, he patted his ample stomach. “Not that I need any more of it, mind you, but I sure do enjoy it.”
After thanking her again, he turned and headed for the pulpit. The white church wasn’t large, and this morning it was standing-room only. Fortunately, John and Lisa had saved Marianne a seat. Looking around, she greeted everyone nearby with a smile. After starting her morning wrangling with Ridge, seeing all these familiar faces gave her a calm, contented feeling.
As she sat down, Lisa grinned. “We’re the talk of the town.”
“Better watch it, Mare,” John teased. “You’ll end up as the Harland wedding planner.”
“Not a chance. One was more than enough.”
“What about us?” Lisa asked, puffing out her lower lip in a slightly more grown-up version of Emily’s famous pout. “We’re gonna need your help, too.”
If her flirtatious baby sister ever settled on one man, Marianne would be amazed. If John someday found the girl who could lasso his roving heart, she’d be stunned. Then again, she’d never imagined Matt settling down, either. God had stepped in on that one, for sure, so it was entirely possible He’d do it again.
Buoyed by the thought, she smiled. “Okay. Two more, but that’s it.”
“Till Kyle and Emily,” Lisa said.
“Please.” Marianne groaned, only half joking. “Don’t marry my babies off just yet. I’m not ready.”
Laughing, Lisa put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “Deal.”
The affectionate gesture felt especially good this morning. Marianne was still unsettled, and she wasn’t sure why. She kept telling herself it was the prospect of
adjusting to life at the farm without Matt, but she knew that wasn’t quite right. Accustomed to reasoning things through, she wasn’t adept at listening to her instincts. But she was smart enough to know they were trying to tell her something.
She just couldn’t figure out what it was.
The organist began with the opening chords of “How Great Thou Art,” and they all stood to sing. It was one of her favorite hymns, the first she’d learned after “Jesus Loves Me.” The comforting verses always made her think of her parents. Despite her mother’s tragic illness, her parents’ unshakable faith in God and each other had shown her what true love was all about.
Now that they were both gone, she found herself turning to God even more often, relying on His strength in addition to her own. She had to be strong, to make sure Kyle and Emily wouldn’t miss the father who’d abandoned them and never looked back.
As she had since she was a little girl, she stared at the stained-glass window over the altar, admiring the vibrant colors of Jesus and the animals surrounding Him. To her, that picture represented His infinite wisdom and endless compassion for every creature on earth. The hymn came to an end, and she felt her tangled thoughts starting to unravel.
Despite her still-baffling mood and the uncertainty about her job, a genuine peace settled over Marianne’s heart, and tears of gratitude stung her eyes. She knew God saw every struggling sparrow, but it was nice to be reminded that He saw her, too.
* * *
They were all sitting down to lunch when the distant buzz of Ridge’s plane interrupted their conversation.
“Can we go out and watch him land?” Kyle asked, already halfway out of his chair.
A hundred percent male, he loved anything that went fast: Matt’s Harley, John’s Triumph convertible, now Ridge’s plane. She had to accept it, Marianne reminded herself. Her little boy was growing up, and she loved him too much to hold him back.
Hoping her sudden funk didn’t show, she smiled. “Let’s all go.”
With an excited whoop, he took off like a shot with Emily on his heels and the rest of them trailing behind. The kids ran down the lane until Marianne warned them to stop so they wouldn’t be too close to Betsy’s landing strip.
Goodness, she berated herself. Now she was calling the plane by name. Clearly, Ridge’s nuttiness was contagious.
After a minute or two, she noticed that Ridge wasn’t coming in to land. He was skimming low over their planted cornfields, spraying dust that would keep bugs and rot from destroying the crops as they grew. At the end of each long row, the plane looked like it couldn’t possibly pull up soon enough to avoid crashing into the woods. Yet somehow, Betsy made it every time.
“That’s so awesome!” Kyle exclaimed, pointing into the distance so Emily could follow the runs. “Ridge must be the best pilot in the world.”
Marianne didn’t know much about flying, but she admired his skill. He made the little plane dive like a hawk, then rise gracefully back into the air to circle around for another pass. Even though she had no desire to take a ride, she couldn’t help wondering what the sprawling Sawyer Farm looked like from the air.
Ridge must have spotted them all standing there, because the plane banked and came toward the house. Waving from the open cockpit, he rocked the wings back and forth. Screaming and waving back, the kids jumped up and down with delight. She saw him grin before whipping into a full barrel roll that took him over their heads and perilously close to the tops of the trees.
“He’s going to crash in the woodlot,” she predicted in a tight voice.
“Nah,” John assured her with a grin. “Ridge knows what he’s doing.”
Marianne wasn’t convinced of that. But she was certain that he’d once again turned her very carefully planned schedule upside down. “He was supposed to dust here tomorrow.”
“Does it really matter?” John asked.
“I close the windows when they dust,” she explained, “and make sure the kids aren’t here while all that pesticide is floating around.”
“We really liked it, Mommy,” Emily added, looking up at her brother. “Didn’t we, Kyle?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, eyes fixed on the plane as it looped around and came to rest on its makeshift runway. “Ridge is so lucky, being able to do that.”
Even though she’d never admit it to anyone, Marianne couldn’t agree more. With her own confidence in tatters, she admired the courage Ridge showed in the air and on the ground. Fearless and confident, he seemed to assume that things would work out for the best. His fun-loving personality showed when he flipped the plane like it was a kite and began his descent.
She was grateful for the life she and her children enjoyed, settled in this safe, cozy place. But she couldn’t help wondering how it felt to have the wind rushing past you while you flew through the clouds, free as a bird.
* * *
To avoid damaging the field any more than he had to, Ridge brought Betsy to a gentle stop in the same marks he’d already made. As he shut the engine down, he looked out to see a line of people headed his way, the kids running in front. He was seldom in one place more than a few weeks, so people didn’t usually make such a fuss over him. Between the wedding and today, he’d gotten more attention than he had in the last six months. For a habitual wanderer like him, it was kind of fun.
“That was awesome!” Kyle said approvingly with a huge grin. “Did you see us waving?”
“Sure did.” Ridge smiled at him and then Emily. “I wasn’t putting on a show for the corn, y’know.”
While John complimented him, Ridge was only half listening. He was more curious about the expression on Marianne’s face. He was used to women being impressed with him, or at least with his flying. The problem was, she didn’t look impressed.
She looked annoyed.
For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine why. Then she filled in the blanks for him.
“I thought you were dusting tomorrow.”
Her clipped tone told him she was irritated with the change in plans, and he waited a beat to make sure he sounded professional. “The forecast is for rain tomorrow and Tuesday. I moved up my jobs to make sure they got done, so the spray wouldn’t get washed off before it had a chance to soak in and do its work.”
The glacial temperature of her eyes warmed a little, and she nodded. “Well, that makes sense.”
When the others headed back inside, she turned and followed them. As he fell in step beside her, Ridge took a shot at what might be bothering her.
“Don’t worry about paying me,” he said. “I’ll be around.”
“This farm is a business, and we pay people what we owe them when it’s due.”
She refused to look at him, and he sighed in resignation. “I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just that Matt and I are friends, and I don’t want to make things tough on you. Financially,” he added, to be sure they were clear on that point. In the short time he’d known her, Marianne had struck him as someone who liked to dot her i’s and cross her t’s.
She didn’t respond to that, and he figured it was best to keep quiet. Then she surprised him.
Glancing over at him, she said, “Thank you for doing those tricks for the kids. It was nice of you.”
I’m a nice guy was on the tip of his tongue, but he thought better of it. He hated to sound pathetic, like he was trying to convince her of what most people got right off the bat.
So he settled for, “I’m glad they liked it.”
He wondered if she’d enjoyed the show, too, but figured it would be lame to ask.
“I also want to thank you for helping John clean up the tables and chairs last night,” she added. “He said it took half as long as he thought it would.”
“No problem. Just pitching in where I could.”
She didn’t say anyth
ing else as Ridge followed her up the front porch steps and through the double doors. From the large entryway, one arch led into the living room and another to an office.
In direct contrast to the neat but lived-in look of the rest of the house, this room was ruthlessly tidy. Every surface was clear of papers, which he assumed were filed in the row of cabinets along the far wall. The walls were a fresh cream color, with family pictures from many generations scattered all around.
One on the desk caught his eye, and he picked it up for a closer look. Anybody with half a brain could tell it was the Sawyers. All of them. Ridge had never met Matt’s parents, but he smiled at the happy family sharing a picnic somewhere. The little girl hanging over their father’s shoulder looked a lot like Emily, and he pointed to the grinning face.
“Is this you?”
Marianne glanced over, and a sad smile dimmed her features. “Yes. That was taken just before Mom got sick.”
Her last good memory of her mother, Ridge realized with a frown. No wonder the little frame held the place of honor on her desk. Very carefully, he set it down and wandered over to the windows. One looked out over the front garden while the other framed the pond, making it seem like a landscape painting. Except for the sleek laptop and printer on the large desk, the scarred antique furniture appeared to have been here since the house was built.
“Great spot.” He strolled over to admire her view of the pond. “Must be nice working in here.”
“It is,” she replied as she sat down and opened a program on her computer. While her fingers clicked on the keys, she asked, “I know your name, but what’s your address?”
“My mom’s will work.” Still focused on the pond, he started reciting it.
“Wait a minute,” Marianne interrupted. “You don’t have an address?”
Facing her, he shrugged. “Not really. Most folks get me through my cell or email.”
“Where do you live when you’re not working?”
“I’m always working,” he said, then grinned. “Or never working, depending on how you look at it. Grandpa always says if you love what you do, you never work a day in your life. That kinda sums me up, so he got it engraved on a brass plate and mounted it on Betsy’s dash the day of our first flight. I don’t think he invented the saying, but— What?”