Letting Go (9 page)

Needed her. That was a laugh

 
“You mean you saw me standing next to an obviously wealthy man, crying, and you thought there’s a score.”

“That’s no way to talk to your mother.”

Red, hot anger rushed through her, and Clarissa said the words she should’ve spoken years before.

“You quit being my mother the day you dropped me at Gran’s instead of kicking your boyfriend out of your life for good.”

Her mother looked away then. “You’re still holding that against me?”

“I was thirteen. If you hadn’t walked in when you did...”

“It’s been fifteen years, Clarissa, and Gary’s long gone. I was wrong. I know that. I know I hurt you. You’ve got to believe me. Let me try to make things right between us. Please.”

Tammy’s tears coupled with empty words did nothing to change Clarissa’s mind or her heart. Her mother had pulled a million con jobs over the years, used her until she refused to be part of it. No way was she falling for the woman’s words.

“You’re stuck here tonight, but tomorrow, you’re leaving. Got it?”

For the longest time her mother didn’t answer. Finally, she said something that resembled truth.
 

“I’ve got no place else to go.”

“You were living at Gran’s last I heard.”

Her mother shrugged. “Fell on hard times.”

Nothing new there.
 

“So I was right. You’re here because you need money.” Funny how the truth hurt so much when she’d known it all along.

Again her mother paused before answering, and Clarissa fought the urge to tell her to stop playing games. Instead she waited. It didn’t take long for her mother to confess.

“Just enough to get me on my feet again.”

The pain shouldn’t be so all consuming this time. But it was. “You came to the wrong place, then,” Clarissa said. “I’ve got nothing.”

That night Clarissa waited until her mother was asleep then stepped out into the cool night air. The bunkhouse yard butted up against a pasture, and Clarissa walked over the the fence, looked up at the stars and took her first deep breath in hours.

Out here things were different. The waning moon shown so bright it was almost like daylight out. This place was pure and elemental and nothing she’d ever imagined being around. She’d lived in her fair share of small towns, but the Triple Eight was something more. Something special.

Hopefully, Tammy Jo didn’t ruin that.

She shivered and wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to forget her mother’s betrayal and her own sins before, during and since that time. It shouldn’t still hurt that her mother had chosen a man who’d been so horrible instead of her daughter. Shoot, she should be thankful that her mother took her to Gran’s and abandoned her there. She pulled her gran’s photo out of her pocket and rubbed her hand across the bent edges. Too bad she hadn’t realized how much she needed Gran until after the woman had passed away.

“You going to be okay?” Jed. Of course.
 

Clarissa was surprised by how relieved she was by his presence.

She put the photo back in her pocket as he moved to the fence. “Sure. I always am.”

“Wanna talk?”

She shook her head, not trusting her voice.

He surprised her by standing beside her in the quiet, no words, just the sounds of the night mixing with the musky dampness of the earth and the beauty of the sky. Locusts buzzed, and she remembered something about them being an every seven year phenomena. Kind of like her mother.

“She thought I could give her money because she saw us together on the news today.”

“Hmmmm.”
 

“She’s down on her luck right now. I grew up calling it that. Homeless and hungry. Not a fun place to be.”

“Not hungry tonight after that dinner Momma packed for y’all.”

Clarissa smiled and inhaled the simplicity of the spring night.

“I told her I’d get her back to town tomorrow. Then she’s on her own.” Her voice caught, and she stopped talking, determined not to cry over the can’ts and couldn’ts and nevers.

Jed surprised her then, pulling her to him for a gentle hug. No pressure. Nothing more. A hug. Almost like Gran had sent him to her since she couldn’t be there. Clarissa leaned into him, inhaling his freshness and letting herself take from his strength. Even though it was wrong to do so.

They stood like that until an owl hooted in the distance. She broke the contact first, suddenly cold as she stepped away from his heat.
 

“You’re a good man, Jed Dillon,” she said, and then she walked back into the bunkhouse before she said something she’d regret.

The next morning when Paul Dillon delivered a basket of muffins and a container of milk, he showed her where the coffee pot was stored. Clarissa tried not to be disappointed that Jed wasn’t the one making the delivery, but Paul said his son was busy clearing some tree damage with José.

Her mother was still sleeping. At least, she hadn’t yet made an appearance. Probably waiting until the last possible minute in hopes that Clarissa would change her mind and ask the Dillons for money to help. She looked up the stairs and was surprised when Jed’s father spoke.

“You’re not going to like what I have to say.”

Always nice when a conversation starts like that.

“I guess that’s not going to stop you, hmm?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, then...”

“You need to let your mother stay awhile.”

This man had no idea what he was talking about.
 

“I don’t think...”

He held up a hand. “Hear me out. I saw you with her yesterday, and I know three things. She can’t hurt my family, she’s wasted away to nothing, and she’s hurt you horribly in the past. You need to let her stay for you.”

“For me?” That was funny.

“I saw that hurt in your eyes yesterday. It’s going to keep on haunting you until you find a way to let it go. That can’t happen if you send your mother on her way.”

He didn’t understand.

“My mother’s only here because she saw your son standing next to me on a news clip and thought she’d be able to waltz in here and make a score.”

“Like I said, this isn’t about her. It’s about you. Her intentions have nothing to do with it. You’re the one carrying the weight of the past around letting it eat away at you. You’ve got a chance to make things different. But it’s got to be your choice.”

Her choice. That was a first where Tammy Jo was concerned.

“So you want to let her stay in your bunkhouse?” she asked.

“For a while,” Paul said.

“Rent free.” Tammy Jo would love that.

“We’ll trade in work. Been doing that for years, don’t see a reason to change now.”

That made her laugh. “My mother won’t know anything about working on a ranch.” She didn’t say her mother knew everything about staying places free.

“Doesn’t take anything more than muscle and will to do the jobs I’m talking about. José will have plenty of cleanups to do out in the arbors. And if not, I know we can use help in the stalls.”

It would almost be worth it to see her mother doing manual labor.
 

“I don’t want her around Mackenzie. And I’ll go back to town as soon as I can, so she’ll be your problem then. If she even agrees to this, which is a very big if.”

Colossal if. Tammy Jo never took the way that ended in hard work.
 

“Lesson one. You control yourself and no one else. All I want is for you to give her a chance. And the only reason I want that is because your soul needs that peace.”

“She’s not...” Clarissa stopped. How could she warn this man of her mother’s past when she had so many sins of her own?
 

“You don’t have to apologize for your mother, and I’m not here for a confession, Clarissa. But Susie and I worried about you all night, and we prayed about it, and this is what we feel is right.”

His words shocked her. “You worried about me?”

“Mack thinks the world of you, and Jed invited you to stay here as long as you need. That means something to us.”

Warmth and wariness suffused her at his words. Warmth at the fact that they cared for her. Wariness because once upon a time taking advantage of people like the Dillons was her stock in trade, passed down from a mother who was supreme queen of the art of a con. But Paul Dillon was right. Her mother didn’t look like she was faking down on her luck this time. And if something happened to Tammy after she sent her away, Clarissa knew she would carry the guilt.

“I’ll talk to her as soon as she gets up, and I’ll let you know her answer.”

He set the basket and carafe on the table. “Good.”
 

Clarissa thought he was leaving then, but he stopped at the door and turned back to her. “People can change, Clarissa. It takes a miracle, but I’m proof God’s in the miracle business.”

She’d believed in miracles once. After years of watching others get theirs while hers passed on by, she wasn’t sure anymore.

“Thank you, Mr. Dillon,” she said, and he closed the door letting his words settle behind him.
 

Later that day Clarissa couldn’t help but think the Dillons were in the miracle business, too, when her mother said yes to working on the ranch in exchange for room and board. Even when Clarissa explained that she would be spending her days in town working with kids at the shelter until the diner opened.

The only thing her mother requested was that Clarissa room in the bunkhouse with her. The answer should have been easy. Getting out of the main house would make leaving all that much easier when the time came. It would keep her from getting too close to Mackenzie. It would keep her out of the Dillon family’s hair. But staying in the bunkhouse meant spending time with her mother, and, frankly, that scared her. The potential for pain was too great.

In the end, she agreed to her mother’s request because opening herself up to pain was far better than risking her heart with the Dillons. Though, truth be told, Clarissa thought maybe it was a little too late to worry about her heart.

Chapter Seven

The next afternoon Clarissa wondered if spending time in Stearns was even going to be an option.

“It could have happened to anyone,” one of the volunteer firefighters said as his partner finished bandaging up Trevor Rains’ forehead.
 

Clarissa wondered how she’d ever let herself think this was a good idea.
 

“Head wounds bleed a lot,” he said sensing her distress. “It looks worse than it is.”

Mackenzie took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, then she turned to Trevor.
 

“This ain’t nothing compared to when Jimmy Don barreled into the door handle, remember Trevor?”

The little boy sniffled as he nodded in agreement. “He had to get stitches and everything.”

Just then Trevor’s mother burst in through the church activity center doors, panic clearly written on her face. “Oh my, oh Trevor, honey,” she said running to his side and pulling him into her arms.

Trevor’s family had lost everything in the storm, and now they had this to deal with.

Trevor hugged his mother tight then pushed back ready to go play more.

One of the firefighters asked if he wanted to check out the truck, and soon all the kids were in the parking lot asking the rescue workers to turn on the sirens.

Clarissa urged the other two shelter volunteers on duty to go outside with the children while she stayed back to talk to Trevor’s mother.

“What on earth happened?”
 

Clarissa wasn’t exactly sure, which made this even worse.
 

“He was playing and he fell. It happened so fast...”

“These are children, you’ve got to...” Trevor’s mother trailed off shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. When Joan called, I was so worried.”

Joan Anderson. Clarissa’s heart hurt while she waited for what would come next. The judgment, the ugliness. She didn’t belong in Stearns.

“When he was three, Trevor fell off his training wheels and broke his arm. He had the worst black eye after falling out of bed. He slipped on a slick spot in the grocery store parking lot and had to get stitches in his knee. I guess I should be thanking my lucky stars this wasn’t worse.” She wiped a hand over her brow and pushed the pink bandana she was wearing over her deep red hair back then held out her hand.

“Tess Rains. Trevor’s Mom, obviously,” she laughed.

Shock warred with relief as Clarissa introduced herself.
 

“Clarissa Dye, and I am so sorry about this.” She started to explain more, but Tess brushed away the words with a wave of her hand.
 

“Not your fault. I’ve been there often enough to know. I’m just so thankful you’re working with the kids. Trev’s a handful. I’m not sure we’d be able to get anything done without the church’s help. I can’t begin to thank you enough.”

Clarissa didn’t know what to say.
 

“You’re welcome, I guess,” she said, and Tess laughed again, the sound full and real and judgment free.

“So I hear you’re staying out at the Triple Eight with Jed Dillon and his family.”

This was so not the conversation she’d expected. The subject change had her head spinning.

“Well, yes, for now. I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying out there.”

Tess laughed, sizing her up in a way that left Clarissa uncomfortable.
 

“You’ve got Jed Dillon in your court, honey, you’d be silly to leave before the fight really got started.”

Okay. Boundaries much.
 

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Joan Anderson called me. And she didn’t just tell me about Trevor gettin’ hurt. She’s looking to stir up a hornet’s nest where you’re concerned. But I like the looks of you, and you’re great with these kids. I figure you need a heads up. The town’s recovering from the tornado right now, but that won’t last forever.”

Clarissa didn’t know if she should say thank you, or if she should leave now before things got ugly.

Somehow Tess Rains saw that indecision.
 

“I’m figuring you know something about fighting, Clarissa Dye. And if what Joan’s saying is true, it doesn’t matter where you go, you will always be that girl until you write the next chapter of your story. Stearns is your chance.”