Letting Go (7 page)

She prayed he didn’t see the truth buried there.

A few seconds later a plate full of food sat in front of her, and her stomach grumbled taking her mind off Jed’s father completely.
 

“I hope you slept all right,” Susie said. “Jed wanted us to let you know crews are working on the area around Pete’s. He’ll be back from taking care of some chores around the ranch in an hour, and he’ll drive you into town then.”

Susie said the words as if they were talking about who won the State Fair’s pie contest or how to make peach jelly. Part of Clarissa wanted to be put off by that. Instead, she took comfort in the knowledge that this woman who seemed so strong believed everything would be okay.

“Thank you so much for everything,” Clarissa said, and then she took a bite of a mouthwatering homemade biscuit and wondered why she’d been so determined to try to do life on her own. She’d made a mess of things over the years. It was nice to let someone else take care of her.

As she swallowed the bite, she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder, something else she’d gone a long time without.

“I haven’t been where you are right now, Clarissa,” Susie said, “but I know it will work out. Things always do.”

Clarissa nodded because she couldn’t speak without falling into a squalling fit.
 

“Hey, Gramps, Moo’s in the front yard again, and this time it’s not my fault.”

Mackenzie’s words pulled the focus off her and on to what Clarissa figured must be a cow. Jed’s father jumped up and started limping toward the door at the same time Susie called out “use your cane!” and Mackenzie pulled back the curtain, waving her over. Sure enough, a black and white spotted cow was in the front yard eating orange and yellow marigolds.

“I swear that animal thinks she’s a pet,” Susie said and Mackenzie giggled then said “that’s ‘cuz she is,” before running outside to help her grandpa try to shoo the cow to the other side of the fence.

“She’s our light, you know,” Susie said nodding toward her granddaughter, and Clarissa heard an underlying current she wasn’t quite certain how to decipher.

“She’s really amazing.” Somehow Clarissa said the words over the sudden lump in her throat.

“It’s good you see that, sometimes people don’t.”
 

The phone rang and Susie Dillon left Clarissa alone in a sunshine bright kitchen at a wooden table where love and family were the expected instead of the fairy tale.

For a moment, Clarissa let herself wonder how different her life would’ve been if… but then she heard Susie’s conversation.

“Yes, Joan, we are so blessed that Jed and Mack are safe when the tornado came so close to the diner. The whole town is blessed.”

Joan. Anderson.

Somehow Clarissa knew where this conversation was going, so she grabbed her juice and stepped outside.

Warm summer air and bright blue cloudless skies reminded her that life did go on.
 

“Can I help,” she called, eyeing the cow suspiciously. It looked bigger now that she was so close, and it’s mouth looked giant.

“If you can get the gate, Mack and I can lead her back to her side of the fence,” Jed’s father said.

“And then I can take you out to meet Flower,” Mackenzie added.

Clarissa scrambled by Moo to open the gate the rest of the way.

The cow wasn’t all that interested in leaving her greener pasture, but they did finally get her out of the yard.

“Moo thinks she’s a pet ‘cuz Daddy fed her with a bottle and kept her alive when she was a calf. She’s spoiled. Daddy’s good at feeding babies with bottles because of all the practice he got with me. Hey, Gramps, can we take Clarissa out to see Flower and Blue now?”

Jed’s father sent Clarissa a long look when she didn’t respond right away, almost like he was sizing her up again, like maybe she wouldn’t meet his expectations. But after a few seconds, he seemed to see something in her she didn’t know for sure existed.
 

“Sure can, Little Bit,” he said opening the gate and starting to walk through.

But Susie must’ve been watching from inside because no sooner had he made his way to the other side of the fence than she was running outside.

“Don’t you even think about trekking across to the barn without your cane, you stubborn old grumpy gus.”

Clarissa held her breath, not really sure why Susie Dillon’s opinion mattered so much. But either Mrs. Anderson hadn’t convinced her that Clarissa was a criminal or worse or Jed’s mother was a mighty fine actress. Clarissa wasn’t sure which was the case, and she decided she didn’t care. She was going to take today off. Enjoy everything about it. Try to find a place inside her she hadn’t realized existed. Ignore the reality that she was a criminal.

“Come on, Clarissa!” Mackenzie called.

Clarissa laughed then, really laughed, for the first time in years, and followed the little girl who’d stolen her heart.

Clarissa told herself she wouldn’t let her fear of big animals show as they approached the horse corrals. But then she saw Blue, the supposedly tame horse, and all her good intentions were gone.

“She’s big, but she’s the gentlest horse I’ve ever owned,” Paul Dillon said.

“I learned how to ride on Blue, and Daddy said any horse that could take me could handle anything,” Mackenzie said with pride.

Jed’s daughter pulled her hand over to a nearby corral where Flower stood whinnying as they neared.
 

Once they reached the pen, Mackenzie was lost, totally and completely focused on the horse. And watching them together, Clarissa saw the horse felt the same about the little girl.

When they entered an arena with a dirt floor, Mackenzie took the horse out and started leading her through her paces. She was as at ease on the horse as she was on her own feet.

The smell of dirt and animals and sweat blended together with a light breeze blowing because of the open garage type doors on both sides of the arena. This place was as foreign to her as the sunlit kitchen had been. She didn’t belong here with these people, this family. They were going to make her soft if she wasn’t careful.

“Mack sure has connected with you.” Paul Dillon’s voice startled her.

“She’s an amazing kid,” Clarissa said, repeating the words she’d said so many times over.

“Glad you see it,” he said. “Sometimes people don’t.”

Clarissa bit her lip because she didn’t want to talk about Mackenzie. About how much she liked the little girl. About how much she respected Jed for raising her on his own.
 

“Her momma left less than a year after she was born. We haven’t heard from her since.”

Clarissa’s heart hurt, but she didn’t want to encourage the conversation. It was Jed’s to tell if he wanted. If she stayed long enough to hear. Paul Dillon somehow understood.

“I’m telling you now because the girl’s got a tender heart, and I’ve seen eyes like yours before. If you’re going to leave, it might be best to do it sooner rather than later.”

Anger sparked through Clarissa, even though he was simply giving voice to what she’d been thinking.

She felt the red splotches on her cheeks and wished she could tamp down anger as well as she could other emotions.

But then Paul shocked her.
 

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying you should leave. Those eyes I’ve seen before were mine. If you want to talk about it one day, let me know. I will say there’s nothing God can’t forgive.”

Clarissa’s anger turned to an ache for the impossible. She didn’t look at Paul, didn’t say a word. Curiosity warred with the knowledge that Paul Dillon was way too astute and the need to push him away because of that fact. She didn't say what she was really thinking, that maybe God could forgive, but she wasn't sure she could ever forgive herself.

In the end, Clarissa was saved by a loud whistle as Jed strolled into the barn looking more relaxed than she'd ever seen him after a morning of working chores and checking fence line for damage from the storm.

Mackenzie didn't stop the horse, but she did smile and wave as she called out, "Daddy!"

"Looking good there, Mack."

Clarissa's heart did a little flip flop as Jed moved closer to her side to watch his daughter. Goodness, the man looked like he'd stepped off the pages of a Stetson cologne magazine ad. The way he smiled at her left her breathless.

"I'm surprised she didn't get you on Blue."

"She tried. I resisted," Clarissa said, and then she focused her eyes on Mack and her pony, told herself not to look at him because what she was feeling was too confusing.

It ended up not mattering too much since Jed turned to his dad to talk about the minimal problems they'd found. Fortunately, they'd moved the trees out before the tornado. Insurance would hopefully take care of any losses.

His words made the gulf between their worlds that much more obvious. The Dillons were wealthy, they were a family that took care of one another, they were people who worked the land. Clarissa didn’t know anything about that kind of life.

"You going to be ready to head back to town soon?" Jed’s question interrupted her thoughts.

Clarissa wasn't sure she was ready to face the loss, to see how bad things were. Seeing it might make the decision she teetered back and forth on very real.

"I guess I don't have a lot of options."

"You're welcome to stay here with us as long as you need to," Jed's father said, and Clarissa smiled at his kindness, surprised by the sincerity of his words.

"Can I go, Daddy? Pretty please. My hair bow's still in, and I'm not too dirty." Mackenzie pulled the horse to a stop in front of them.

"Not today, Champ. It's too dangerous in town.”

Mack scowled, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she turned to Clarissa and spoke with the innocence of a five-year-old. “I’m gonna pick you some flowers, Clarissa. You’re my bestest friend, and I love you.”

Clarissa didn’t say I love you back, even though she was tempted.
 

It was terrible. For some reason, Clarissa had thought having so little would make finding its utter destruction easier. She was wrong. Standing in the middle of torn lumber, she searched for small items. All she could find was her toothbrush, which was just so strange.

"It's all gone." Clarissa said the words while standing in a pile of rubble, torn clothes and the broken light that had graced her living room. Even her beat up alarm clock was gone. She'd lost everything.

"I'm real sorry, Miss Dye," the sheriff walked up and patted her lightly on the shoulder. "The FEMA people will be here to help out tomorrow. If you need a place to stay, the church has set up shelter, and the Angel Food Ministry is working with the food bank in Shawnee to help out."

She wanted to reply, to say it was going to be all right, but she couldn't seem to make her voice work. And then she found a torn corner of paper with Mack’s name on it. The Lemmalu picture.
 

She picked it up, inexplicably smoothing it like doing so would make everything better. And then she started crying big, silent tears of regret and loss and desperation.
 

"She's going to be staying out with us on the Triple Eight," Jed said, touching her shoulder to give her comfort. But she couldn’t accept that from him. She stepped away, thought about telling him he was wrong. Stearns, Oklahoma might've felt like a stopping place, but it wasn't. And this time, whatever fate controlled the universe had made sure she knew that truth.

Pete stepped up then, a little hitch in his walk. He'd been working for hours on the cleanup, and it was evident in the tired lines on his face. But there was something else. Something that didn't make a whole lot of sense.

Hope.

"Darkest nights bring brightest mornings," Pete said when he saw her tears. And all she could think in answer to that was she sure should be seeing some amazing mornings in the near future.

Around her people from all over town were helping the cleanup at Pete's. The man with the small children whose wife was in the Shawnee hospital saw her and walked to her side.

"I can't thank you enough for helping last night," he said.
 

He had a reason to cry. But he wasn’t. He was here, helping her and Pete and everyone else on the square. Clarissa brushed away her tears as she shrugged off his thanks, feeling embarrassed.
 
"It was nothing."

"Nothing?” Jed wouldn’t let her words stand. “I heard all about that nothing. You worked for hours at the church helping others even though you'd lost everything. That's sacrifice, and it's mighty amazing sacrifice at that."

The warmth of recognition, of being told she’d done a good thing, soothed her aching soul. Clarissa stood in the midst of life destruction on more than one level, and yet, these people saw her as someone worthy of praise. It had been a long time since she’d seen appreciation or approval. It had been a long time since she’d felt worthy.

A warm gust of wind blew, and Clarissa saw something fluttering where it was stuck under a piece of splintered wood.

She reached down, grabbed its edge and started to tug, surprised anything had made it through this mangled mess.

When she shifted the wood slightly, she gasped. The one thing she wanted, and it was in pristine condition. The only photo she had of her grandmother.

She picked it up and held it to her chest, and as she did she heard her Gran's soft, sure voice.
Fate's fickle, God's eternal. You'll be okay, baby girl. You'll be okay.

If only she could believe. One way or the other she was starting over. Maybe the tornado hadn’t been a sign to leave. Maybe it had simply wiped her slate clean.

Back at the Triple Eight, Susie Dillon took a tray of cookies out of the oven and acknowledged that her husband was right. Jed was more than a little interested in Clarissa Dye.

And Paul was right about something else. The wariness in Clarissa's eyes came about from something dark and troublesome.

"She' s hurting, she doesn't trust and she's not sure about sticking around here, you can tell that," she said.

"I imagine she's a lot like the barn kittens. Scared to death to get close to anyone," Paul agreed, his blue eyes sad and sure. Susie remembered those eyes back when they were bloodshot and unfocused morning after morning. When they were hiding truths. When they were bitter and angry, and she felt alone against the world with a gift of a baby boy and a ranch to take care of.