A Conard County Homecoming
She hunted around to find what was available. Kitchen utensils had been left there since his parents’ time, and he was reasonably certain that Carol had included them in her cleaning.
Out came a wood cutting board, a chef’s knife, some small bowls, a measuring cup and a microwave dish.
“I am so grateful for microwaves,” she said as she bustled about. “I’d starve to death if I couldn’t thaw and cook in one. That’ll do for the broccoli. But first the yellow rice.” She lifted a yellow bag. “Personal recipe.”
He had to chuckle a little in spite of himself. “I think I’ve had that recipe before.”
“Probably. Someone stole it from me and put it on supermarket shelves everywhere.”
She dumped the contents into the round rice cooker, then began to dice a thick slab of ham. “Meals in minutes, that’s me,” she remarked.
Soon she swept the ham into the cooker with the edge of the knife, added the water, plugged it in and pushed a button. “Maybe twenty minutes on that,” she announced.
Then she headed for his refrigerator. “I hope you have butter.”
“I do.”
“Good, I like it on my broccoli.”
After putting the frozen broccoli in the microwave dish and dotting it with butter, she pulled a spice container out of her brown bag and sprinkled it on the veggies.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Mustard powder. It makes the taste milder, and anyway, it’s good.”
He backed away until he was beside the table, watching her whirl around his kitchen with practiced ease. It had been a long while since he’d enjoyed the sight of a woman cooking, and she seemed to like it. She shortly proved him right.
“It’s always better to cook for someone else,” she said. “Cooking for one is so boring. I make a lasagna, put most of it in my freezer in meal-size containers and then eat it forever. I also do that with other foods that freeze as well to try to give myself some variety. But... I slipped up the last few weeks, so tonight I cook. Nothing fancy, but if I’m going to do it, it’s nicer to share.”
He was sitting there like a lump, he realized. At least he could try to make conversation. “So you don’t like to cook?”
“Not for just me. Sometimes I cook for my friends, which is fun. A bunch of us gals get together regularly and take turns. Not doing that this weekend, though. I guess we’re meeting for coffee.”
It almost sounded like an alien world to him. Meeting friends for coffee. How many times had making coffee meant freeze-dried crystals and water warmed over canned heat? When he had the crystals and dared to make even a small flame.
Finally she brought two mugs of coffee to the table. “Black?” she asked.
“Nothing else.” After all these years, he wouldn’t know what to make of any other kind.
She handed him a mug then took the seat across from him. “I’ll clean up after.”
“I can do that,” he said quickly.
“Sure, if you want. It means I get to hang around longer waiting for my rice cooker.”
His eyes popped to her face, and he realized she was teasing him. Teasing him. The fact that he hadn’t recognized it immediately, the fact that it had been so long since anyone had teased him when it had been a routine part of his life in uniform...well, he really had put himself in a long, dark tunnel. And maybe not all of it was necessary.
But until he could trust his reactions, be sure some little thing wouldn’t just cause him to blow, he felt it was safest to protect others.
But who was he protecting, really?
Shaking his head a little, he remained silent while Ashley served dinner, giving him a plate heaped with yellow rice and a good-size portion of broccoli.
“Thank you,” he managed to say. Did one ever get tired of always having to thank others? He sure did. He was used to taking care of everything himself, and his new status in life often irritated him.
Yet, he reminded himself, this woman was guilty of nothing except kindness. He could have turned down her offer of dinner. He could have kept his fortress walls in place. But he hadn’t, so the least he owed her this evening was courtesy.
The problem was finding something to talk about. God, he’d been so self-absorbed for so long he had only one subject—his own problems. Disgraceful.
“How was your day?” he asked. That seemed ordinary and safe.
“Pretty good,” she answered. “I used apples to teach fractions, which are always a pain to kids, but hey, they got to eat the results of the work.”
He drew up one corner of his mouth. “How many kids in your class?”
“I’m lucky. Nineteen. A pretty good size at that age. Not so many that we can’t do class projects. And Mikey seemed to be in a great mood today.”
He nodded, eating some more rice. “This is great.”
“I love it, too,” she agreed.
“So, Mikey. How does that work when he’s quadriplegic?”
She sighed, and her face shadowed. “His mom has to come with him every day. Bless her, she never seems to mind. But someone has to be able to turn pages for him and write his answers on worksheets. There are a whole lot of people working on a fund-raiser to get him a motorized chair he can control with puffs of air, and someone’s looking into mounting an ebook reader on one for him. I mean...well, you’d know. Independence isn’t easy to find. This world is not designed for the disabled.”
“No, it’s not,” he agreed. Although he was pretty sure it was getting easier in some ways. But still. He thought of a fourth grader consigned to a future of quadriplegia and it pained him. Talk about the unfairness of life. At least what had happened to him had been a known risk of his job. All that kid had been doing was going for a fun horseback ride.
“Anyway,” Ashley continued, “he’s adapting remarkably well. Very resilient. He impresses me.”
Unlike him, Zane thought sourly. Although paraplegia wasn’t his biggest problem; his mind was. If he ever managed to whip that into shape, life would probably be better.
However, a sudden change in perspective gave him a view of himself as others might see him, and he didn’t like it. Oh, well. He knew the rages that could bubble up unexpectedly inside him. He never wanted anyone else to suffer from that. Who cared what anyone on the outside thought? All they’d ever see was the guy in a wheelchair.
“Do you know anyone around here?” Ashley asked.
“After all these years? I doubt it. Doesn’t matter, anyway.”
“No, I guess not.”
Well, he had told her he wanted to be left alone. Then the first asinine thing he did was let her bring him dinner. “I told you I’m antisocial.”
She nodded, then studied him with those startling blue eyes. “It can’t have always been that way. In the military you were part of a team, right?”
“I’m not in the military anymore.”
“No kidding,” she said a bit tartly. “However, we have a few guys in this county who might get where you’re coming from. They’ve walked in your shoes, and some of them have had to struggle with being home.”
“So?”
He guessed that was it for her. She rose, leaving the remains of her dinner on the table. She grabbed her jacket and slipped it on, then picked up the rice cooker and the bottle of mustard powder. “You said you could clean up. Have at it.”
Then, without another word, she walked out. He heard the front door close behind her.
A whimper drew his attention to Nell, who was sitting beside him.
“Damn it, dog, I don’t need your opinion, too.”
She gave a little moan then settled beside him with her head on the floor between her paws.
Yeah, he was a jackass. He knew it. He nurtured it. Better to be alone with his demons than inflicting them on innocent people. That had become his mantra.
At that moment he wondered if it wasn’t also his excuse.
* * *
Ashley sighed as she stood in her kitchen cleaning the rice cooker at her sink and wondering where that burst of temper had come from. That man seemed to bring out the worst in her. Yesterday she’d gotten acidic with him, and today she’d walked out on him—rather rudely, if she were to be honest about it.
And why the heck had he accepted her offer of dinner? He’d obviously been uncomfortable, and finally he’d felt it necessary to make it clear yet again that he wanted to be left alone. He didn’t even want to talk with other vets.
When she summed up the total of conversation that had passed between them, she figured it wouldn’t fill one typed page.
God, she didn’t want to be a snippy, sarcastic person. A good reason to grant his wish for solitude. It would be easy enough to pretend he wasn’t even there.
Her life was full enough anyway, what with school and helping with the project to get Mikey a better wheelchair. In fact, there was the fund-raiser at the church on Saturday evening that she still needed to do a few things for.
But she couldn’t help feeling bad for a man so alone, even if it was by choice. She spent a lot of time as a teacher making sure that no child was left out or ostracized, because a sense of belonging was so important to human beings.
Well, Zane was a grown man. None of her business, no matter how she felt about it. Plus, he’d kind of warned her that he was still a bit unstable mentally. PTSD. Awful. Certainly not something she could help him with.
She dried her hands, then pulled out her folio to start correcting papers. Except for taking dinner over to Zane, she’d have started a while ago. Time to catch up. Immediate feedback was important to learning. Nothing the kids had done today would matter to them in a week.
The phone rang just as she was spreading her work on the table. She picked up the cordless handset to hear her friend Julie on the line.
“Hey, word has it you were seen visiting Zane McLaren. How is he?”
“Very much antisocial and very much wanting to be left alone. Straight from his lips.”
“Oh.” Julie sighed. “That’s sad. Any number of people have mentioned him to me, wondering how he’s doing.”
“And he said he’d very much appreciate not having a parade of well-wishers at his door, so pass it along.”
“Well, dang. I thought we’d have something new to talk about.”
Ashley laughed. “Hurry up and have your baby. Then you’ll be too busy for gossip.”
Julie’s answering laugh poured through the phone. “I’m sure Trace would agree with you. I can’t figure out if he shares my impatience or if he just wishes I’d settle down.”
“Maybe a bit of both. Listen, I’ve got a bunch of papers to correct. Saturday, right?”
“Oh, that’s why I called. The weather’s going to be beautiful Saturday. A couple of the girls suggested we meet at your place and have our coffee on the porch. You have a big enough porch and enough chairs.”
And she lived next door to the mystery man, Ashley thought wryly. “Sure, that’s fine. Who’s bringing the coffee cake?”
“Marisa said she would. She’s looking forward to turning the youngster over to Ryker for a few hours.”
“I can imagine. Okay, Saturday. Here.”
“Done.”
Ashley hung up, shaking her head. She wondered if she ought to give Zane a warning, then decided she was being ridiculous. He didn’t have to poke his head outside. He could just tough it out indoors.
Chapter Three
Saturday afternoon turned into the last taste of summer. Autumn leaves still blew gently around on the breeze, but the weather was warm enough that light clothing allowed the women to sit outside on Ashley’s porch.
Julie Archer had been Ashley’s friend forever, and now that they taught at the same school, the friendship had only deepened. They could discuss various student problems with a deep understanding. Julie’s auburn hair and green eyes had always made her a striking woman. She also rarely withheld her thoughts.
Connie Parish was older than the rest by a little over a decade, but she had fit seamlessly with them. The mother of three as well as a sheriff’s deputy, she had her hands full and she swore the Saturday get-togethers were a lifeline.
Marisa Tremaine had been widowed a few years ago, and now was married to her late husband’s best friend, who also happened to be a good friend of Julie’s husband.
Ashley sat as the lone spinster among them and she was quite happy with her lot, thank you very much. She honestly couldn’t imagine how she would handle the addition of a family to her already busy life.
“So Nora and Hope couldn’t make it?” Ashley asked about two of their other kaffeeklatsch regulars.
“Getting ready for the fund-raiser tonight. Hope must be out of her mind. She promised ten dozen cookies. And Nora is bringing five pies.”
“Wow.” Ashley blinked. She felt like a skinflint with her offering of a few dozen rum balls.
“We’re getting there,” Julie said. “With the bake sale tonight and the donations, I bet we come close to our mark for that wheelchair.”
“I hope so,” Connie remarked. “I was blown away by the price of those things. It’s not like you’re buying some toy for your amusement. It’s essential.”
Ashley answered, “And it has to be able to do more, like change his position so he doesn’t get sores and lift him so his mother can help him get into bed. It’s not your basic model.”
The women sat silent for a moment, and Ashley guessed those with children were imagining themselves in the shoes of Mikey’s mom.
Then Julie visibly shook herself. “We’re close. And Trace’s friend Ken is working on a tablet to attach so Mikey can do a lot of things simply by using his chin on a push plate. I have half a mind to wrap that chair in aluminum foil and put NASA stickers down its side. It’s going to be halfway to a spaceship.”
That leavened the moment. Soon laughter returned and stories about everyone’s kids began to be shared. Ashley never ceased to be amazed by the inventive hijinks kids could get up to. She didn’t see a lot of that in the classroom, where they were usually on their best behavior...or what passed for it.
She went inside to get a fresh pot of coffee and warm up her friends’ mugs. When she stepped outside, Nell was standing there, wearing her saddlebag.
“So you have a secret admirer,” Julie joked. “Whose dog?”
“Zane’s. I guess he sent something over. Nell is a service dog.”
“Oh, wow, wouldn’t Mikey like that,” said Connie.
“I’m trying to persuade Zane to work with Cadell on the kinds of things Mikey might need. Or at least I mentioned it.”
Curious, she passed the coffeepot to Marisa and let her pour for everyone. Opening the saddlebag was easy enough; it wasn’t snapped closed. Inside she found an envelope addressed to her.
A message from Zane? Surprised, she dropped onto her chair and opened the flap of the envelope. Inside a brief note was wrapped around a check: “For the wheelchair.”
Not even signed, but when she looked at the check, she gasped and her heart slammed. “Good heavens!”
“What?” the other women demanded.
She looked up. “Zane just sent a check for five hundred dollars for Mikey’s chair.”
A chorus of exclamations greeted that news. In a moment everyone was talking at once. This brought them a long way toward their goal and doubled what they had expected to make from the bake sale at the church.
The check was made out to Ashley, probably because Zane didn’t know the name for the fund-raising group, but as she held it, her resistance to Zane and his attitude melted away. It was a generous act, very generous, and a trusting one. He clearly had no doubt she would put the money where it was intended to go.
Wow.
But Nell still sat in front of her, looking up as if her mission wasn’t complete. Ashley jumped up, saying, “Stay, Nell,” and went inside. She tucked the check in her wallet, then pulled open the drawer where she kept writing materials for rare occasions when a handwritten note was needed.
On a notecard that said Thank You on the front, she wrote, “We are all so very grateful for your generosity, Zane. This will go a huge way to getting Mikey his chair. We can’t thank you enough.”
She signed her name and the name of the group, then stuffed it in an envelope with his name on the front.
Outside, Nell still waited patiently. Ashley lifted the flap of the saddlebag and tucked the note into it. She gave Nell a scratch behind her ears, then said, “Take it to Zane, Nell.”
Tail wagging, the dog was off like a flash.
All heads turned to follow the dog as she dashed across the yard, leaped onto the ramp and disappeared inside.
“Wow,” said Julie.
“Wow,” agreed Connie.
“We’ve got to get Mikey a dog like that,” Marisa said.
“Next step,” said Connie. “I think trained service dogs are nearly as expensive as the wheelchair.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ashley said. “I was talking to Dory and Cadell last week. He’s working on training a dog already, and Dory said she’d meet any expenses on that.”
Marisa nodded. “And she made a large contribution to the wheelchair fund. She’s serious about helping.”
Marisa stood up. “This has been fun, gals, but Ryker is probably desperate for some relief. Jonni’s going through a difficult stage. I think no is the only word she doesn’t understand.”
“And I need to get my daily walk in,” said Julie.
Soon everyone had said their goodbyes and left, and the porch was empty of everyone except Ashley. The afternoon was beginning to cool a bit, and she thought idly about getting her jacket or just going inside. She had time before the bake sale tonight.
She closed her eyes, enjoying the fresh air, full now of the scents of autumn. Then something bumped her knee.
Her eyes flew open, and she saw Nell sitting in front of her. No saddlebag this time.
“What are you doing here?” she asked the dog.
Her answer was a doggie grin and a tail wag.
Then she heard Zane call, “Dang it, Nell, what are you doing?”
She looked over to the house next door and saw Zane sitting on his porch. “You didn’t send her?”
“I absolutely did not, and she’s never supposed to leave me unless I tell her to go. Now look at her.”
“Are you blaming me?” Because that’s what it sounded like.
“Hell, no. But that dog thinks for herself, and I can’t imagine what she’s thinking now. Nell, come.”
Nell started to rise then sat down again.
“Nell,” Ashley tried, “you need to go to Zane.”
Nell looked over at Zane.
“Go on,” Ashley urged.
“Nell, come,” Zane repeated.
With something that sounded very much like a sigh, Nell rose and trotted back over to Zane.
“That was weird,” he said. “She’s never done that before.”
“Well, I swear I’m not encouraging it. I didn’t even give her a treat of any kind.”
“I’m sure you did nothing wrong,” he answered. “She just took a notion. If this happens again, she may need a training refresher.”
“Maybe curiosity overcame her. Or maybe since you sent her once, she thought it would be okay to come again.”
“I wonder.” Then he astonished her with a laugh. “She’s far from an automaton. That’s why I said she thinks for herself. And she’s bright. Maybe she’s getting bored over here. As soon as I get my trike together, I’ll get her some more exercise.”
“Trike?”
“An extra wheel attached so the front of my wheelchair so if I hit an obstacle while moving fast my chair can’t tip and throw me into a face-plant.”
She nodded, picturing it. “Need any help putting it together?”
A long silence greeted her offer. She had just about decided to go inside when he answered. “If you can spare an hour or so sometime, it would be helpful.”
Ah, a crack in the armor. Well, every step was a good one. And after that donation he’d made, she’d have gladly done a whole lot to help him out. “Tomorrow afternoon?” she asked. “About two, maybe?”
“That would be great.” Then he turned and disappeared inside with his dog.
Well, well, well, she thought, deciding to head indoors as the chill began to get to her. Time to get ready for the bake sale tonight, anyway. She had a shift from seven to nine. Anything left over would be sold tomorrow after services, but she hadn’t signed up for that. There were plenty of willing hands when it came to Mikey.
And very few when it came to Zane, but he wanted that way. At least he could accept help when it was offered. She supposed that was a big step for a professed hermit.
* * *
The next day when she came home from church, Ashley was practically walking on air. Not only had the bake sale gone well, but upon seeing how close they were getting to the goal for the wheelchair, quite a few checkbooks had come out to add larger amounts.
Then, this morning, the pastor had announced that they’d received the grant they’d applied for. They could now order Mikey’s wheelchair, “with racing stripes if he wants them,” the pastor had joked, causing the entire congregation to rise and applaud.
The standard coffee and doughnuts afterward had been a happier-than-usual affair, with a lot of smiles and laughter. Everyone was feeling pretty good, and the pastor was going to make the trip out to the Landau ranch to tell Mikey and his parents the good news.
For her part, Ashley was looking forward to sharing the news with Zane. His check had been a huge help in putting them over the top, as had the grant. Now they had a little elbow room to get the child exactly what he needed.
She was still surprised that Zane had sent so much money, though. After announcing he was a practicing curmudgeon, apparently Mikey’s plight had touched him.
She knew so little about being paralyzed. She supposed she ought to frankly ask Zane what other things they might be able to help Mikey with. So much that the family had had come from disability aid, the bare minimum, and she couldn’t even begin to imagine the lacks the family might still be experiencing. Right now either parent could lift Mikey into bed or onto a couch to sit, but what would happen as he grew? How many other needs must be met?
Zane would probably have a good idea, if he was willing to share.
* * *
Zane cussed himself for being a stubborn mule. At some point, he was going to have to admit that he couldn’t always be completely independent, and he was looking at a case of it right now.
The toolbox had a handle. He’d been able to lean over the side of his chair, heft it and carry it into the kitchen. The box of parts for his extra wheel was a different matter. It sat on the floor in the small extra downstairs room defying him, and he had no way to reach it or move it.
Nell watched him, tilting her head quizzically from side to side, unable to do a damn thing about it. He was glad he’d swallowed his pride enough to ask for Ashley’s help, even though it galled him, because otherwise...well, he’d have had to hire someone, he guessed. Not impossible, but he didn’t know where to begin in this town, and anyway, he didn’t feel comfortable about it. Maybe it was some leftover machismo, but for some reason he didn’t want to hire someone to put his wheel on. He wanted to do as much of it himself as he could.
Stubborn cuss, that was him. Unfortunately, stubbornness could lead to stupidity, and he was coming dangerously close. Instead of just hiring help, now he was imposing on a neighbor. Didn’t that make a lot of sense, he asked himself with a snort of disgust.
Nell apparently heard Ashley’s arrival before he did. She dashed away to the front door and waited for the knock or the bell. Trusting Nell’s instincts, Zane wasn’t far behind.
He opened the door to see that beautiful strawberry blonde dressed for work in jeans and a flannel shirt. She’d even caught her hair into a ponytail, which was cute. And she was smiling.
“Ready to start?” she asked.
He hesitated even as he began to roll back from the door to give her entry. “I should have just hired someone. I can’t keep imposing on you.”