In the days that followed her granddaughter’s revelation about her former relationship with Nick Chastain, Ruth spent a great deal of her time pondering ways that she might be of help to Samantha. She prayed and she plotted. What else was there to do when she was confined most of the time to her bedroom or the living room?
First thing she wished to know was more about Nick. Was he a man worthy of her granddaughter’s affections? Some investigation seemed to be in order. Careful investigation, of course. She wouldn’t want Samantha to feel she was prying.
Which, of course, she was.
Her granddaughter hadn’t said she had once loved Nick. But she’d burst into tears at the question, which Ruth thought was a good indication of her answer. Ruth also suspected the past two years hadn’t erased Samantha’s old feelings. If Nick was a man worthy of Samantha’s devotion, a man who could be trusted with her granddaughter’s future, then Ruth wanted to do her utmost to see if he, perhaps, might feel the same way.
Seated in the recliner, she glared at the ugly cast encasing her broken ankle. If not for that blasted thing, she could be up and about and seeing to what needed seeing to. Of course, without it, Samantha wouldn’t be in Thunder Creek. But that was neither here nor there. Samantha was here, and she needed her grandmother’s help.
“I’ll have to recruit some assistants,” she said to herself. And Camila would be the place to start. Perhaps she should—
“What?” Samantha stepped from the hallway, her hands behind her head as she caught her gorgeous red hair in a ponytail. “Did you say something, Gran?”
“Nothing, dear. You caught me talking to myself.” She tapped her temple with an index finger. “A sure sign of old age.”
“I hope not. I talk to myself all the time.” Samantha stopped a short distance away. “Are you ready to go?”
Ruth lowered the foot rest. “I can’t wait.”
“You like your doctor that much?” Her granddaughter grinned.
“I do like him, but that isn’t why I can’t wait. I’m dying to get out of the house again. I’m missing far too much of spring. Summer will be here before we know it.”
Ruth’s eagerness had her on the scooter and out the door in no time. She felt the warmth of the May sun on her head and shoulders as she rolled toward Samantha’s car. She delighted in the brightly colored flowers now in bloom around the borders of her house and stopped long enough to admire them.
“Not a weed anywhere.” She looked over her shoulder at Samantha. “You’ve been busy.”
“Camila and Sandra have both helped.”
“God bless you all.”
Getting settled into the car took some maneuvering, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the day Ruth had come home from the hospital, still weak and somewhat woozy.
“You doing all right, Gran?” Samantha asked as she lifted the scooter with both hands.
“I’m good.”
Her granddaughter carried the scooter and put it into the back of the vehicle, then came around to get behind the wheel.
“I should have broken my left ankle,” Ruth said. “Maybe then I could have driven myself to my doctor appointments.”
Samantha shot her a questioning look.
Ruth patted the center console that went from car seat to dashboard. “Nowhere to put my right leg. Even if I was coordinated enough to drive with my left foot, my right leg would be in the way. But I think I could have managed if it was my left leg in a cast.”
“Gran, you’re too independent for your own good.”
She chuckled. “You may be right about that, Sam.”
It hadn’t always been that way. Ruth had been a woman of her generation, the babies born during WWII. She married Walter when she was eighteen and set up her first home before the sweeping cultural changes of the 1960s. She had allowed her husband to manage their lives without ever asking a question. Not that she’d minded. Walter had been a generous, kind, and godly man. So she hadn’t had any reason to chafe beneath his control.
She smiled as she remembered those early years of their marriage, Walter busy with his medical clinic and her busy with the children that had come along. Life had changed both Walter and Ruth, but Ruth most of all. Somewhere along the way she’d come into her own, and her loving husband had supported her as her interests had grown and changed.
“Gran?” Samantha’s voice snapped her out of her memories.
“I’m sorry, dear. I was daydreaming. What did you say?”
“I asked if you’ve been to this doctor’s office before.”
“No. He was the surgeon on call the day of my accident.”
Samantha reached into the console and then handed a piece of paper to Ruth. “I googled the address. Can you read me the directions? I don’t know my way around Caldwell without a map, and sometimes the GPS on my phone doesn’t give me the next turn soon enough for me to change lanes if I need to.”
“Of course. Between the pair of us, we’ll do fine.”
Nick knocked on the back door of the Johnson home, but he wasn’t surprised when no one answered. He’d noticed Derek’s truck was missing from the driveway. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, scrolled to Johnson, and tapped the number on the screen.
“This is Derek.”
“Hey, Derek. It’s Nick. Sorry to bother you.”
“No trouble. What do you need? I’m in Caldwell right now but should be back in an hour or so.”
“No need to rush. Just wanted you to know that the crew and I have called it a day. We’re waiting for some supplies to be delivered on Monday. But it looks like we’ll have the job finished by the middle or end of next week.”
“That’s great, Nick. You’ve all done a great job. I couldn’t be more pleased with how it’s turned out.”
Nick grinned. It felt good to have his work praised. There’d been a period of time when he’d wondered if he’d be able to work at anything again. In any field. He was thankful to God for the progress that had been made, physically, mentally, and spiritually.
Derek said, “I’ll see you at church.”
“I’ll be there.”
He tapped the screen to end the call, then slipped the phone into his pocket. As he turned, Miss Trouble appeared through the doggy door. She barked at Boomer, who waited obediently near the trunk of a tall tree. Boomer shivered with excitement, his tail sweeping the ground, but he didn’t move until Nick said, “Free.” Then Boomer darted across the barnyard to the white picket fence, and the two dogs pressed their noses together through the slats. Like old friends, the two of them.
Nick smiled again. That’s how he felt too. His time in the area had been brief, but he already felt at home in this small town. He’d made good friends—perhaps lifelong friends— Derek Johnson being one of them.
“Let’s go, Boomer.”
He walked toward his truck. The dog ran on ahead of him, sailing up onto the lowered tailgate and to his favorite spot near the cab. Once Nick was behind the wheel, he stopped to wonder what to do with the rest of his Friday afternoon. He wasn’t ready to head back to his rental house. There wasn’t anything awaiting him there. Not even breakfast dishes to wash. He was still trying to decide when his phone rang. When he looked at it, his mom smiled back at him from the screen.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, hon. Have I caught you at a bad time?”
“No. I’ve finished work early and was about to leave the jobsite.”
“That’s good. How are you feeling? You aren’t working too hard, are you?”
He smiled. “I’m fine, Mom. I’m feeling great and taking care of myself. I promise.” He paused before asking, “What’s on your mind?”
“It’s about Rudy.”
Rudy was Nick’s youngest brother. “What about him?”
“He’s getting married.”
“What?”
“Rudy’s getting married. In Boise.”
Nick felt rising confusion threatening to overwhelm him, and he gripped the steering wheel with his free hand. His mom’s words weren’t making sense. Rudy didn’t live in Idaho. He lived in Denver. Why would he get married in Boise? And to whom?
“Honey, it’s one of those whirlwind romances. We haven’t even met the girl yet.”
That made him feel a little less confused. No wonder it didn’t make sense to him.
“Rudy and Chelsea—that’s her name: Chelsea Lord—met in Las Vegas at a convention about a month ago. She lives in the Phoenix area, but her parents live in Boise, so that’s where they’re having the wedding.”
“When?” He asked the question with a niggle of fore-boding.
“Next Saturday. A week from tomorrow.”
“He’s only known her a month,” he said softly. “And they’re getting married next week?”
“I know, but he won’t listen to anything your father or I have to say. Anyway, he intends to ask you to be his best man since you’re there in Caldwell and can easily drive to Boise. I thought you should know so it wouldn’t come as a complete surprise when he calls you.”
Most of the time Nick didn’t like his mother to hover over him, even from a distance. In this case he was thankful for the heads-up. “I’m glad you told me, Mom. I take it you’re coming to the wedding.”
“Yes, if they go through with it, we’ll be there. We’re still hoping they’ll come to their senses and put it off for another six months at least. We have no reason to object to them getting married. Just to them doing it so soon.”
They chatted for a few more minutes before saying goodbye. After ending the call, Nick stared through the windshield, mulling over the news about his kid brother. Rudy . . . getting married. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. That would make Nick the only bachelor in the family.
And just like that, he thought of Samantha. Again. Over a week had passed since he’d seen her at Sips and Scentimentals. He’d looked for her at church a few days later—his second Sunday to attend Thunder Creek Community—but she hadn’t been there as she had been the week before. His disappointment had been keen. Unreasonable, even.
Unreasonable. That was a good word for him to remember. He gave his head a shake, then reached for the key in the ignition.
Samantha followed her grandmother through the open automatic doors of the medical building. Once outside, Gran stopped her scooter and looked up at the sky. “Thank You, Jesus,” she said with a grin.
Samantha didn’t have to ask what Gran meant. The cast had been removed by the surgeon, and Dr. Smith had opted not to put on a second cast as Gran had expected. Instead, her grandmother was in a large, black boot. One she would have to wear for another ten weeks at least. The ankle couldn’t bear weight, even with the boot, but at least Gran could scratch when something itched, as she’d said in the examination room.
“Why don’t you wait here and I’ll drive the car over,” Samantha suggested.
Before Gran could answer, the doors opened behind them. Samantha glanced over her shoulder, thinking they might be in the way. Her eyes widened when she saw who was exiting the building.
“Hey, there.” Derek sounded as surprised as Samantha felt. His arm, already around Brooklyn’s shoulders, tightened, slight but noticeable, as his gaze shifted to their grandmother. “Look who’s not wearing a cast.” He grinned. “How does it feel, Gran?”
“Heavenly. And what a nice surprise to run into you. Or were you looking for us?”
“No.” Derek glanced at Brooklyn, who nodded. “We were here to see a doctor ourselves.”
Gran’s smile faded. “Everything all right?”
“Everything’s perfect. And it’ll be even better in about six and a half months.” His eyes twinkled. “We’re about to make you a great-grandmother again, come December.”
Gran released a squeal of joy. Samantha gasped in surprise. Then everybody was laughing and hugging and talking over each other.
When things quieted down, Gran said, “Do you have to go home right away, or can we celebrate? There’s a restaurant down the street that has great pies. I’ll buy.”
“How can we pass that up?” Derek looked at Brooklyn for confirmation.
“I’d love to,” she said.
As Samantha followed Gran toward the car, she realized that her happiness for her cousin and his wife, although real, was mingled with envy. She was ashamed of the feeling. She didn’t begrudge her favorite cousin this additional joy in his life, but Derek and Brooklyn’s happiness left her feeling more alone and unloved than she cared to admit.
Of course, she was neither of those things, but the feeling persisted all the same.