Chapter Ten
Walking into the empty bunkhouse was one of the hardest things Clarissa had ever done. Strange how much of an impact Tammy Jo had had when she’d been here such a short time.
The muffins Susie sent down that morning were still in the basket by the sink where she’d left them for Momma. Wild daisies Momma had clipped graced the table in a mason jar turned vase. A dirty cup with a photo of Prince William and Princess Kate kissing after their wedding sat on the cabinet top near the coffee pot. Momma’s morning coffee. So much better a habit than the morning shot of whiskey had been.
Clarissa stifled a sob and trudged up the stairs to the room her mother had slept in. No sense putting this off. It sure wasn’t going to get easier.
Taking a deep breath she pushed the door open. She’d thought she’d find some essence of her mother, some bit of spirit here in the room she’d lived in for such a short time, but the room wasn’t any different than it had been before.
Except that wasn’t quite right.
A mason jar of flowers sat on the window sill and a moleskin notebook sat beside the bed, a pen beside it, a bible there also.
Clarissa sat on the bed and opened the bible. Underlined verses showed someone used the bible regularly. Surely not Tammy Jo. The ranch hands might have spoken of her mother as someone completely different than the Tammy she knew, but no way had she gone christian. Not without a master plot in mind.
Clarissa wiped away the tears falling freely now and opened the journal.
Forgiveness. The word repeated again and again on three full pages of the journal.
I’ve got to forgive myself. I’ve got to quit limiting the grace of God. I’ve got to pray and ask for God’s help in this. I’ve got to forgive myself and accept that God already has. I’ve got to trust that God will heal my relationship with Clarissa. That He has the answers I can’t begin to understand.
Oh, Momma.
Clarissa cried even more as she read on. Her mother’s tortured soul so transparent on the pages of the journal. Her fight to change. Her dedication to a different kind of life. And all of the pages dotted with bible verses.
Luke 7:47-48 were favorites.
Clarissa picked up the bible, turned to the passage.
“Therefore, I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven–for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little.” And he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”
The passage was underlined in red, blue and black ink. In the margins, Clarissa ran her hands over her mother’s words. I’m forgiven.
She knew then, understood, her mother had truly changed. And now it was too late to show her she knew.
Clarissa wiped away more tears, picked up her mother’s pillow and inhaled the scent. That alone should’ve proven the change. No tobacco and heavy perfume. Only the soft earthy smell of someone who spent all her time outdoors.
Clarissa turned back to the journal and continued reading until she made it to the last page her mother had written in.
The entry was about her. About their past, about how Clarissa couldn’t see the change yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time.
Clarissa closed the journal and cried out to the God her mother believed in.
How could you take her away before I knew? How could you?
Silence served as the only answer…like always.
The next morning, Clarissa woke to puffy, sore eyes. It reminded her of how she’d cried herself to sleep so often as a child when she and Tammy Jo would skip out of town in the middle of the night and she’d lose her friends and all sense of normalcy.
Tammy Jo had been a lousy mother. And God forgave her.
Clarissa wasn’t sure what she thought about that.
Starting a pot of coffee, she looked out the window at the green fields that seemed to go on forever. The Dillon’s house sparkled in the morning sunlight. The dogs ran along the gravel road from there to the bunkhouse. Chasing…she shielded her eyes to see better…Mackenzie.
Clarissa’s heart warmed, and she opened the door to wait.
When Mackenzie got to the house, she held out the basket she was carrying. A tiny orange and white kitten lay curled up on the bottom. Sleeping despite the trip.
“I asked and Gramps said I can give her to you. You don’t have to keep her forever.”
Clarissa took the basket, and Mackenzie flew to her side to hug her tight. “I’m sorry ‘bout your Momma,” she said, and Clarissa swallowed a lump of sorrow.
“It’s okay. She was real sick.”
“Now you’ll feel better,” Mackenzie said as she picked up the cat and handed the ball of fur to her. “I liked your momma. She smelled like gum. I bet that’ll make the angels happy.”
Clarissa cradled the cat in her arm. The tiny thing mewled and opened its eyes grumpily. She scratched its head and it settled against her chest mumbling and went back to sleep.
“Daddy said I couldn’t bother you today, but Gramps said if I saw you I could. I told him you’re my best friend. There’s flowers for you up at the house. You going to come get them or do you want me to tell daddy to bring them down?”
Embarrassment at the way she’d treated Jed last night coursed through her. She’d have to face him sooner or later. Plus she needed to return his phone. “I’ll come up there after a little while.”
Mackenzie smiled like she’d won the best friend lottery and hugged her again, her tiny arms circling Clarissa’s waist and serving as a balm for her hurting heart.
“The kitty food’s up at the house, too. And Gran says kitty likes Malt-o-Meal too, but she didn’t figure you’d have any of that. And Gramps said that was okay ‘cause you’d leave soon maybe. I don’t want you to leave, Clarissa.”
Clarissa looked out over the fields again. Paul probably hadn’t meant for Mackenzie to hear those words. He was right, though. She needed to move on before it hurt even more to do so.
She wasn’t going to lie to Mackenzie, though. So she just hugged the little girl back and prayed she could figure out a way to leave without hurting the girl who’d been abandoned and still believed in love.
Again, answers to prayer proved elusive. So she pushed open her door and changed the subject.
“Let’s go see what we’ve got to make a toy for the cat.”
“Whatcha going to name her?” Mackenzie asked, and Clarissa breathed a sigh of relief. The subject change worked.
“I don’t know. Maybe you should name her?”
Mackenzie shook her head solemnly. “She’s yours for now. You do it.”
Clarissa could tell this was a huge gift. She could also tell Mackenzie was being very careful not to make the animal a forever kind of gift. Five and still smart as a whip.
The kitten opened its eyes and yawned then swatted at Mackenzie’s pig tail, and Mackenzie laughed. The sound a combination of joy and innocence and love.
“How about we just call her cat and give her a name later?”
Mackenzie frowned. “We already got Cat up at the barn.”
Hmmmm. Tough one. “Okay then,” Clarissa said, “we’ll call her Kitty for now. Sound good?”
Mackenzie nodded. “Yeah. But you gotta name her soon, ‘kay?”
“Sure thing, sport,” Clarissa said, and then they set out to find some string for the toy.
Jed sat at the table and frowned at his father. “You sent Mackenzie down there this morning?”
His daddy pushed Momma’s homemade strawberry jelly onto a biscuit and nodded. “Sent her with one of the new kittens. Clarissa’s hurting bad and Mackenzie will help some, the cat more.”
Jed didn’t like it. “She asked to be alone,” he said.
“She asked you to leave her alone last night. Not the same thing.”
His Momma handed him a plate of biscuits covered in the sticky wrap he hated even though she called it a miracle because it stuck to everything. “Speaking of which, you should take these down to her now.”
Incredulous, Jed shook his head. “I think I’ll leave her be for now.” He didn’t want to intrude on her grief. Didn’t want to push her away.
Momma pushed a new jar of jelly toward him. “You aren’t going to catch the girl sitting up here stratigizing how to keep her in Stearns. Go down there and be her friend. If she doesn’t want you there, she’ll tell you.”
Relationship advice from his mother. Terrific. “I don’t know, Momma.”
“Then pray about it, son,” she said.
“But pray about it while you’re delivering biscuits,” Daddy said.
Susie and Paul Dillon watched their son walk down the gravel road to the bunkhouse.
“Without a miracle, she’ll be gone within a month, and we’ll be nursing heartbreak again,” Paul Dillon said.
“Our God works miracles every day,” Susie Dillon said.
“Amen,” Paul said, but he couldn’t help being worried.
Jed stood on the bunkhouse porch and listened as Mackenzie laughed and Clarissa called out “kitty, kitty, kitty.”
The sound of them playing together gave him hope. But hope was dangerous. It led to heartache. And God knew, his heart was definitely involved. Somehow he’d let himself fall in love with Clarissa. He’d put down all his guards and he’d fallen hard. Chances were she was leaving, and nothing he could do would stop her.
God, why her? Undoubtedly, God had led Clarissa into their lives.
Fight for her. Whether it was God answering or his own subconscious didn’t really matter. The answer was the same.
He’d tried fighting before. It had ended in disaster.
Fight for her.
Jed didn’t know if he’d heed that advice or if he’d ignore it. For now, he decided, he’d do what his daddy suggested and be a friend.
Clarissa jumped at the knock on her door and then she laughed at her silliness.
When she opened it, Jed stood there looking rock steady, just like always. Her heart melted a little at his smile, at the dimple just above his left lip, and the hard edges of his face and the eyes that showed so much concern.
“Daddy,” Mackenzie flew into her father’s arm. He lifted her in a one armed hug while balancing a plate of something. So freaking perfect the move belonged in a Hallmark movie.
Clarissa grabbed the plate at the same time he said, “Momma made you some biscuits and sent you some jelly, too.”
“Thank her for me,” Clarissa’s stomach grumbled as she said the words.
Jed dropped Mackenzie to the floor and they stood there looking at each other in one of those horrible awkward pauses she hated.
Searching for anything she spied his phone, grabbed it, handed it to him. “Thanks for letting me use this last night. I…” she stopped not sure what to say.
He wrapped his hand around hers and held it. “You needed it. And you needed your time last night.”
She wanted him to hold her hand forever. To never let her go. To…
“Daddy, you should’ve brought Clarissa’s flowers,” Mackenzie said, and Clarissa pulled her hand from his.
Jed looked at her, and Clarissa could see the worry there in his eyes. “Pete sent you flowers. And he said take as long as you need. He tried calling you, but...”
“Oh my goodness, my phone.” Clarissa rushed to the table and took the phone out of her bag. Completely dead.
The thought brought tears to her eyes, which was totally stupid. Was the word dead going to cause problems forever? The two had nothing to do with each other.
She plugged it in and regrouped. Cleared her throat and tuned back to Jed and Mackenzie and now Kitty. Ties. Too many ties.
Mackenzie was explaining how kitty didn’t have a name yet and showing him how the cat liked to play with the twine they’d found in a cabinet. He’d squatted down to be closer to her, and the two looked like they belonged on the pages of a storybook.
“Come play, Clarissa. Kitty likes it better when you do it.”
Later. She’d think about leaving later.