Leave It to Chance (19 page)

He gave a self-conscious chuckle, then rubbed his thumb along the edge of the paper sticking out. “Just something I’m thinking about. I don’t want Ross knowing about it jist yet.”

She zipped her fingers along her lips.

He let out a chuckle and dug the real estate flyer out from behind his leg. “I have this yearnin’ to be close to my roots again. Then my niece, Leorna, keeps asking me to move back home.” His chin dropped toward his chest. “So, I’ve been thinking about it, but didn’t figure it’d happen for a few years yet. And now with this bum leg, there’s nothing to keep me here.”

She sat in the chair across from the couch. “Except Ross.”

He nodded once, a sad smile playing beneath his white whiskers.

“So what now?” Sierra asked.

“Leorna’s been keeping her eye out for a place for me.” His eyes pierced hers from under heavy white brows. “Just looking, mind you.” He chuckled. “Though Leorna calls every couple days to see if I’ve packed yet.”

“Sounds like you’re more than halfway there.”

He looked out the window. “I miss being home. Miss seeing all the nieces and nephews growing up.”

“Why don’t you want Ross to know?”

Sid sighed. “He’s got a lot going on with that Cranwell job. He don’t need more distractions.”

Her horse was one of those distractions. An arrow of guilt hit.

He poked a finger at a picture on the real estate page. “I was thinking about callin’ this fellow, Dick Reynolds, and seein’ what he thinks I can get for the place.”

“Might be interesting to find out.”

“Get me the phone, will ya?”

Two hours later with Ross’s bills spread across the table and Sid napping on the couch, the phone rang. “Sid Barrows’ residence, Sierra Montgomery speaking.” She tucked the phone to her shoulder and matched a mud-encrusted packing list to a statement.

“Oh, Sierra! This is Leorna. Sid’s told me all about you. I think it’s just wonderful how you’re taking such good care of him for us.”

“He is a delight.”

“How is he healing up? We are just tickled that he’s planning on coming home. I’ve been on him for
years
to move back.”

“He told me about the plans you two are cooking up.”

Leorna lowered her voice. “I know. Isn’t it just tremendous? He doesn’t have any grandchildren, you know, so I think it’s on his mind to get to know his great-nieces and nephews. And my, if there aren’t a slew of them.”

“It sounds like a perfect opportunity for him.”

“That it is. Is he available, by chance?”

“I’m afraid he’s napping at the moment.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Is it anything I could help you with?”

“Well, Ned, that’s my husband, just spotted the snuggest little place for sale just a few blocks from us. I have the realtor’s number if Sid wants to call on it.”

“Why don’t I get the number from you and give it to Sid when he wakes up?”

When Leorna had given her the number and finished chatting about her grandkids, Sierra hung up the phone and wandered back to the living room.

Sid was awake and watching a documentary on the Cold War.

“Leorna called.” She handed him the information and sat down. “I really think you need to talk to Ross about this.”

He fingered the paper but didn’t look up. “I will when the timing’s right.”

“The longer you put it off, the harder it will be on both of you.”

Ross closed the front door and plopped into a chair as Sid adjusted himself on the couch. “Well, lookee what the cat drug in.” Sid glanced at the clock above the TV. “Dinnertime, isn’t it? Thought you might show yerself around this hour. How’s the job going?”

Ross yawned. “Tiring. I’ve got extra crews working the swing shift. Did I wake you up when I left this morning?”

“Nope. Didn’t hear you come in last night, neither.” A blaring commercial for detergent came on and he muted the TV. “Will you finish on schedule?”

“I don’t know. It’s going to be tight.”

“Must be tough with the new deadline.”

“Yeah.” Ross nodded with a chuckle, his gaze drifting toward the kitchen where a pair of long feminine legs captured his attention.

Sierra came to the doorway and caught his eye with a smile. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Now don’t that smell good?” Sid exclaimed as Ross wheeled him to the table, then sat down. “Ross, will you say the grace?”

Ross looked at Sierra, but she’d closed her eyes. “Dear Lord, thank You for this meal and Sierra’s skill in making it. Continue to heal Sid’s body and let his recovery be fast. Bless and protect Sierra and her family. Watch over her kids and guide them as they grow. Amen.”

He peeked to his right. Sierra opened her eyes slowly and picked up her fork. Then set it down. She picked up the lettuce bowl and passed it to the right. “Salad?”

Sid took it from her and placed a mound of it on his plate.

Ross spoke the words before he had a chance to think them through. “Do you believe in God, Sierra?” And when he saw the look on her face, he wished he hadn’t.

She held the tray with the sliced french bread suspended above her plate, her eyes wide on his. She turned and passed the bread to Sid, then adjusted her napkin in her lap. “Even the demons believe, isn’t that what the Bible says?”

Sid piped up. “Yessir, it does.”

Ross caught her gaze again. “I shouldn’t have asked something so personal.”

“No, it’s fine.” She reached for the salt and pepper, held them a moment, then set them beside her plate. Her next words seemed carefully measured. “I believe in God.”

Sid tipped his head. “Now there’s a difference between believing and
believing.
”

She didn’t look at either of them, just made tiny divots in her pasta with the fork tines. “I would be the first one.”

Sid patted her arm. “Nothin’ wrong with that, Sierra. Nothin’ wrong at all.”

She gave Sid a tiny smile, though Ross thought her eyes glistened.

Chapter 19

Sierra closed her mom’s front door and heard feet pounding down the stairs.

Braden flew toward her, his mop of brown hair bouncing. “Mom, you should have come to 4-H tonight! We learned the different parts of a horse, and Mrs. Vaughn said she’d teach me pole bending with Chance!”

Emory ran from the kitchen. “I want to do barrel racing, but Grandma thinks Braden should train with Chance, and she and I can save for my own horse.”

Sierra kept her expression bland. “Really?”

Braden rested a hand on her arm, his smile growing wider by the minute. “There’s a 4-H clinic in four weeks. Mrs. Vaughn said I could enter some of the games.”

Her chest tightened. “Games?” She regretted not taking the kids to the meeting herself.
One
meeting was all she’d promised.

Braden beamed. “Yeah! With Chance! Mrs. Vaughn said she has room in her horse trailer for him.”

Abbey followed from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel and wearing a proud smile.

Sierra tried to smile back but felt it list toward dread. “Wow. You’ve been busy.”

Her mom patted Emory and Braden on their backs. “You would have been proud of them, Sierra. They were so well mannered and listened attentively when Mrs. Vaughn was talking.”

Of course, her mother would focus on the behavior. Did she
know
about the 4-H clinic and the games? Sierra said, “In four weeks, they’re, um—?”

“Mrs. Vaughn is the sweetest thing. Offered to trailer Chance to the clinic with her horse.”

“Mom—”

Her mom gave her a squeeze. “The kids are going to be just fine.”

“Games on horseback, Elise. With Chance.” Sierra sat on her bedroom floor, arms draped over her knees, and stared at the mahogany bureau.

“Take a deep breath, hon, and blow it out.” Elise exhaled. “There. Now
remember how scared you were of childbirth when you were pregnant with Braden? You got through it and nothing could wipe the smile off your face.”

“You’re comparing childbirth to
this?”

“Picture it this way. It’s like you’re pregnant with the kids’ expectations, and the fear that’s freaking you out is just the labor. You need to breathe through it and keep pushing.”

Sierra rolled her eyes and leaned back against the bed. “Elise, that’s gross!”

“Hon, you gotta do this for them.” She switched tactics. “What’d the kids think of 4-H?”

Sierra picked at the blue carpet. “They’re on top of the world.”

“When’s the last time you saw them this excited, not counting when you got Chance?”

“I don’t know. Before the divorce maybe.”

“Mmmhmm. You gotta keep pushing, baby.”

Sierra chuckled. “Do you keep a scorecard for every time you’re right?”

“Top drawer of my desk! Bye, hon.”

Sierra clicked off the phone, crawled into bed, and turned on her side to stare into the darkness. Her mind went back to the thoughts of Ross that had lingered all evening. He’d prayed for protection for her kids. She pulled the blankets up under her chin. The way he said it, as if releasing all fear and worry into God’s hands, bewildered her. No begging or pleading, but a simple trust, as if he knew God would do it. She flopped on her back. But that’s what it came down to. Trust. And she didn’t have much.

Ross tossed and turned in Sid’s upstairs guest room but couldn’t get a pair of big cinnamon eyes out of his head. She believed but didn’t
believe.
What did that mean? And what did it mean to him.
Lord?
The Bible was clear on many things, and this was one of them. He finally drifted off, seeing the shadow of shame in her eyes when he asked about her faith.

Five o’clock came early. Ross crept down the stairs and tiptoed past his snoring friend on the way to the kitchen. At the counter he grabbed the last apple from the basket of fruit Sierra usually kept stocked. Must be grocery-shopping day.

He headed toward the mudroom for his work boots but noticed Sid’s Bible on the table. Better set it by the couch so the older man didn’t have to wait for Sierra to arrive.

He picked it up, but the apple slipped and he lost his grip on the book, which slid back to the table. A paper poked out from under the cover. He started to push it back in but stopped. It looked like … he pulled the glossy real estate flyer from the book. He slowly raised it, his eyes drawn to the smiling circled face of a realtor named Dick Reynolds.

Ross’s truck rumbled down Alex’s driveway on his way to pick up more rock from the quarry. He glanced right, toward Sid’s. It hadn’t been the greatest afternoon with his thoughts ping-ponging between Sid and Sierra. Especially having seen that paper stuck in Sid’s Bible. At the end of the paved drive his foot held the brake while the blinker flashed left, as he considered. Maybe he should go visit his friend and have that conversation that had been playing through his mind all morning. He flipped the blinker right and drove the twenty yards to Sid’s driveway.

Sid was watching The Discovery Channel when Ross stepped through the front door
.
“You’re here early.”

Ross rubbed his hands to get some of the cold out of them. “Yeah, I need to talk to you.” He glanced around, not wanting an audience. “Where’s Sierra?”

“Grocery shopping.” Sid muted the television. “What’s on your mind, son?”

“What have you decided to do about your farm?”

Where Ross had expected Sid to sour up and complain about his leg keeping him from the ponies, a look settled into the crags of Sid’s wrinkled mug, causing Ross’s stomach to knot.

A look of peace.

“The Lord and I have been having some long chats about that.”

He waited, but Sid had apparently gone to the arena where those conversations took place, leaving Ross to sit and wonder in the stretching silence.

Just when Ross was going to ask what he and the Lord had decided, Sid spoke. “I have a niece who’s been wanting a visit.”

“Well, let her come, then Sierra wouldn’t need to stay here every day.”

Sid cleared his throat. “She’s actually been wanting me to visit since before the accident.”

“You’ve mentioned that. She’s in Kansas, isn’t she?

Sid nodded, but a nervous pinching of his lips signaled that Ross was missing something important.

“She wants me to move out there, actually.”

“Move.” The word echoed in his mind. Sid had that look on his face. Like he knew something about Ross that Ross didn’t even know. It unsettled him. He felt as if he were fourteen again and Sid was about to render a decision. Mucking stalls for two summers had made him the richest boy in Eugene, without being paid a dime—it had brought Sid into his world.

“Son, life isn’t about keeping things comfortable.”

“Sid—” He couldn’t be serious, could he?

“We’ve got to listen with our hearts. Let the Lord lead in all the pastures of our lives. I’ve been holding the reins too long as it is, or I’d have done this years ago.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Ross didn’t mean for the words to sound so harsh, but hurt and—if he were honest—a large portion of panic had set in.

Sid just looked at him, that knowing gleam in his eye.

“Don’t blame this on me, Sid. I didn’t keep you here.”

Sid sighed. “Ross, you’re like a son to me. I’ve done all I could to fill a father’s role in your life.” His head dropped a little lower, as though the weight of something heavy pulled it down. “I don’t know that I did right by doing that.”

“Of course you did. Dad was never there.”

Sid looked up, his blue eyes sure and steady. “But maybe he would have been if I hadn’t let you run to me with all your troubles.”

Ross got up and paced to the window. “Is that why you’d move? So Dad and I can make up?”

“Ross, I don’t have any business telling you what to do. You’re a grown man, and a fine one at that.” That look of peace settled back over his face. “I miss my family. I got great-nieces and nephews that I’ve never seen. It’s time to go back. To be near Rose and Caroline.” His wife and daughter who had been killed so many years before. Then a new thought struck Ross. Did he—was Sid dying?

“Do you have cancer?”

Sid erupted with a laugh. “No, I’ll be around for a good while yet.”

“You don’t think it would be hard, being back where it happened?”

Sid’s smile grew soft. “I’m homesick for them. I want to be close to where they’re laid.” He chuckled. “It’ll save you the cost of shipping me back there after the Lord’s chariot swings through to capture my soul.”

“Sid—”

“Sierra thinks it’s a fine idea.” Sid leveled bright blue eyes at him, utter sincerity in the gaze.

Ross clenched his fists. “What does Sierra know? She’s hasn’t even worked here a week! I’ve never seen you to capitulate to a half-baked idea like this before.”

Sid mouthed the word as if tasting it. “Capitulate.” He dragged his pad from under the crossword puzzle and sounded the word again as he wrote.

“Come on, Sid.” He sat down in the easy chair across from him and leaned forward. “You’ve said yourself you’d never go back. Why now? Because
Sierra’s
convinced it’s the best thing for you? I can’t believe you’d let her and your niece pressure you into moving. Sierra doesn’t—”

That was when the back door slammed.

Ross and Sid jumped. Framed in the middle of the kitchen doorway stood Sierra, looking as if she’d been there long enough. A grocery sack sagged in each arm.

She set the grocery sacks on the table and gave Ross a fierce look through the living room archway. He braced himself as she marched into the room. Ignoring Sid, she made straight for his chair.

Her head jerked as she repeated the words, “Pressuring Sid into doing something he doesn’t want to do?”

Ross stood. “Sierra—”

She leaned forward. “Have you ever seen that man get pressured into
anything
? I couldn’t even get him to drink
prune
juice.”

Ross gently grasped her arm and turned her back toward the kitchen. “Let’s discuss this outside.”

She pulled her arm free and marched ahead of him to the back door. Sid’s chuckle resonated through the small living room, and Ross felt the tips of his ears burn as he shut the door behind him.

Sierra clomped down the cement steps and turned to face him, her stance rigid in the ankle-deep grass. He really needed to bring his mower over. He dragged his eyes from the unkempt yard back to her face, where her eyes were shooting sparks at him.

She crossed her arms in a protective manner. “I can’t believe you think I would try to persuade him to move.”

He sighed and looked toward the barn roof. “Sid’s vulnerable right now. He’s cooped up in this house, feeling hopeless about his ponies. I’m sure Kansas looks pretty tempting. So when you and Leorna jump in and fill his head with ideas about moving—”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean ‘fill his head’?” She drilled an outstretched arm toward the house. “That contrary old man is the one who’s been spouting all those ideas. Maybe if you weren’t so set on keeping him here, you’d pay better attention to what
his
needs are.”

That brought his hands to his hips. “Listen, I didn’t bring you out here to make judgments about me.”

“Of course, saying
I
pressured
Sid
isn’t making a judgment?”

He dropped his arms. “Sierra, I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t know you would be eavesdropping from the kitchen.”

She angled her head, her face tense. “Next time I’ll be sure to stomp my feet through the mudroom so you can stop slandering me before I get there.”

“Never mind.” He marched past her toward the barn.

The staccato crunch of gravel broke into his thoughts and Sierra caught up to him and grabbed his arm. She tugged as if to spin him around. He stopped but didn’t turn, so she stepped in front of him, toe to toe. Her finger was dangerously close to clearing his sinuses.

Sierra sucked in a breath, hurt driving each frustrated word. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you cannot just walk off like that.”

Ross didn’t say a word. Not a hint of what he was thinking showed in his face. He stared at her as if she were a weed in his flower bed.