Second Chance in Dry Creek

“We found a black ski mask on her,” Calen finally said, his voice flat as he looked up and faced the sheriff resolutely.

The lawman grunted in surprise. “I got a message that they’d arrested one of the thieves tonight. The other one got away. The fools tried to rob that gas station between Havre and Malta. The owner is ex-military and he had a gun behind the counter. Used it, too.”

“I thought they were looking for two men,” Gracie reminded everyone. “A gunshot wound doesn’t mean a crime has been committed.”

She knew all about the mistakes that could be made in the legal system, and she didn’t want this young woman to suffer through an arrest if she was innocent.

The sheriff shrugged. “Maybe the other one did all the talking. With a ski mask, the second one could have been a woman, if she was slight. Besides, what other reason does she have for being in this area?”

“She’s my daughter,” Calen said. “She was coming to see me.”

Gracie noticed that stopped the sheriff for a moment. “Not little Renee? I remember her riding that horse you had. She wasn’t more than twelve or so.”

The sheriff looked down at the young woman as though trying to see traces of the child she had been. Gracie wished she’d taken a minute to wash the grime off the woman’s face. She looked like a pixie who had fallen out of a tree, all bruises and smudges and torn clothes.

“She was fourteen when she was here last,” Calen continued after a moment, his voice strained. “Sixteen when she ran away from her mother’s home. That’d make her nineteen now, almost twenty. She’s always been small for her age. Any trouble she’s in is my fault. I should have made her mother send her to me. Those weeks she spent with me on the Elkton Ranch were all I had. She’s a good kid. Maybe a little wild, but she needed her father and I wasn’t there for her."

Gracie watched Calen stumble to a halt. She had always assumed he had no deep sorrows in life. She knew tonight that she’d been wrong.

“You can’t argue with the courts in those custody battles,” the sheriff said as he stood up. “Back then they almost always gave it to the mother. There wasn’t much you could have done.”

Gracie saw another flash of headlights coming down the road to her house. “That must be the ambulance now.”

They were all silent as the ambulance came close to the house and parked with the other vehicles. Two male paramedics jumped out almost before the driver had stopped. Renee made a soft sound, and Gracie figured the pounding of their footsteps had reached her unconscious.

Tyler and the sheriff stepped aside as the paramedics both knelt down, one reaching out to take her pulse and the other feeling for broken bones.

“She’s got a gunshot wound in the side,” Tyler said from the corner where he stood.

The paramedic taking the pulse looked up at the sheriff.

The lawman shrugged. “Medical problems take precedent. We don’t know for sure how she got shot.” He looked at Gracie as he talked to the young men. “A gunshot wound does not prove a crime has actually taken place.”

The other paramedic was removing Renee’s shoes when she winced and seemed to wake up a bit more.

“Looks like a sprain, too,” he said.

“I’ll get the stretcher,” the other paramedic said.

Gracie took a step closer to Renee and knelt down again, reaching over to brush the brown hair back from her face. Her eyes fluttered open and, again, the night deepened their searching violet color.

“These men are going to help you,” Gracie said, trying to gauge whether her words were penetrating. “The ambulance will take you to a clinic where they can get you all fixed up.”

“No,” the young woman gasped, as she looked around frantically and tried to sit up. “I can’t—”

Calen knelt on the other side of her, and it did not take long for Renee to see him. Her eyes focused on him and she quieted down. “Daddy?”

She lay back down.

“I’m here,” Calen said as he touched her shoulder.

“Please,” Renee said, and then gulped. “Please—Tessie—”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help you,” Calen pledged, his voice filled with emotion. “I don’t know about your partner, but—”

By that time, the paramedics were back. “Excuse us.”

Gracie and Calen both stood and moved so the men would have room to load Renee onto the stretcher. Just the lifting seemed too much and she passed out again. The driver of the ambulance had backed the vehicle as close to the steps as possible.

“If I get my hands on that Tessie of hers, I’ll give him a piece of my mind,” Calen muttered, his voice so low only Gracie would hear him. “What kind of a grown man goes by Tessie anyway?”

He turned then and Gracie put her hand on his arm. “Renee is probably in shock. She might not even know what she is saying. Tessie could be anyone.”

The two paramedics carried the stretcher down the steps toward the open door of the vehicle.

Calen followed them off the porch and to the rear of the ambulance as they were loading his daughter. “I’m going to follow along behind you.”

“I’ll be there, too,” the sheriff said as he stood at the base of the steps. “Keep a good eye on her.”

“Give us a few minutes first,” one of the paramedics said before he climbed into the ambulance behind his partner. The driver put the vehicle in gear. “It’ll take some time to get her unloaded and triaged. No point in you getting there before that.”

The paramedic closed the door. Calen walked back to the porch and stood by Gracie.

Together they watched the vehicle turn around and start down the lane, carrying his daughter. Gracie knew he was distressed, but she couldn’t think of any words to ease his troubles.

“They’ll take good care of her in Miles City,” she finally said.

She knew what it was like to see a child suffer and not be able to do anything about it. She glanced sideways and saw the shadows on Calen’s face. “I’m sorry.”

Her words made him flinch and Gracie knew she’d made a mistake. She wasn’t offering pity, but it likely sounded that way. Another apology wouldn’t help anything though, so she turned to go back into the house. She had forgotten that darkness made strangers into friends too quickly. Calen probably already regretted sharing his troubles with her, and she didn’t intend to force him.

Tyler stepped closer to the steps, and Rusty ran back to sniff his boots. Gracie had not yet reached the door to the house when she heard the dog and turned around.

“Rusty is sure wound up,” Tyler said as he crouched to greet the canine, then glanced up at Gracie before looking down again. “Are you still keeping him inside at night? Remember, he’s a barn dog. Always has been. He needs to be where he can get out and run if he wants.”

Tyler paused a moment as though suddenly unsure of himself. The light from the house shone softly on his face as he looked at his mother. “It’s not like you to need him inside. Do you? You sure you’re all right?” He hesitated. “You could come spend your nights at our place if you’d sleep better. Angelina would love to have you with us. And you know we’ve got plenty of room.”

“You also have that security system that rivals Fort Knox—” Gracie said. “I’m afraid I’d make the alarm go off if I got up in the middle of the night to get a drink of water.”

“That was Angelina’s father’s idea,” Tyler protested. “You know he’s used to living in a big city where that kind of thing is common. We don’t even turn the alarm on half the time.”

“Well, I sleep just fine where I am,” Gracie said before she realized it wasn’t true. “Well, usually.”

She stepped over and knelt down to give her dog another rub on its back. He was better than any expensive security system. And it was nobody’s business if she wanted him inside at night. She didn’t want to intrude on her sons’ lives. She loved her daughters-in-law, each one of them, but she felt a new bride needed time to set up her home without a mother-in-law sleeping over every night. It was enough that they all got together on Sundays after church for dinner. That was her time.

“That’s quite the guard dog you have there,” the sheriff said as he came back to the porch and bent down to pet Rusty, too. The canine responded by increasing his barking.

Gracie thought Rusty was showing off, begging for more attention, and she was happy for him to get it. He was a good dog.

“He wants to show us something,” Calen finally said as he studied the animal. “He likely won’t stop until we see what it is, even if it’s just an old bone he found.”

“Rusty?” Gracie asked from where she was kneeling on the cold boards of the porch, resting her hand on the dog’s back. She had meant it as a question, but Rusty took it as approval and ran over to Renee’s car again. This time his barking sounded urgent to Gracie, too.

“What in the world?” Tyler said as he stood up and started following the sheriff toward the car.

Gracie started to stand up, but her knee was suddenly locked. She had a touch of arthritis in her joints that had started giving her trouble this past summer, but usually it was nothing like this. It was the price of getting older, she told herself as she waited for the stiffness to pass. It also came from her winters spent in a cold cell, but she didn’t like to remember that.

Unfortunately, Calen had stayed back while the other two men followed the dog.

She had bitten back the initial groan, but she must have signaled something was wrong with an indrawn breath, because he studied her.

“Can I help you?” He finally stepped close and offered Gracie a hand. She looked up. He was in the shadows, but she could see the concern on his face.

She wanted to refuse. She could take care of herself. But it seemed churlish to protest, so she nodded and accepted the calloused hand he offered.

“Thank you,” she said as she stood. The sash was loose on her robe and she knotted it securely. Even with the T-shirt and sweatpants she wore, she felt self-conscious. When she’d first stepped out on the porch, she had been warm enough, but she was shivering now.

“You don’t have any shoes on,” Calen said as though he’d suddenly noticed. “Can I go inside and get some shoes—or at least some slippers—for you?”

The thought of Calen finding her pink slippers next to her bed made her blush as much as her Cherokee coloring would allow. “I walk barefoot sometimes. It’s okay. I’m fine.”

Her great-grandfather had been a chief. She was not a delicate flower.

Calen frowned. “Your teeth are chattering—”

“Hey, come over here.” Tyler interrupted them from where he stood beside Renee’s car. The sheriff was looking in the window to the backseat.

Gracie heard a soft keening then, almost like a sound Rusty would make. But the dog was standing quietly by the car. Gracie had a bad feeling about that sound. Some animal was terrified.

Without thinking, Gracie started down the steps. And then drew in her breath sharply when her feet met the hard ground. Calen had been right. This ground would be covered with frost by morning. Winter would be here in a few days—before the church’s harvest dinner could mark the change of season. And her feet were not up to this.

She almost turned back, but she heard the keening again.

“Allow me,” Calen said as he stepped closer. He hesitated for a moment, standing next to her in the darkness. Then he reached down and scooped her up as easily as he’d lift a bale of hay.

Gracie gasped. She certainly hadn’t expected that.

Before she knew it, Calen was carrying her over to the car as though she was weightless. Her stomach felt light enough for it to be true. She wasn’t used to being this close to a man. And he smelled like soap and forest pine. In the places where her cheek touched his shoulder, she could feel his muscles moving. Her bare feet dangled as he walked. She glanced up to ask him to set her down because she felt disoriented, but she stopped when she saw the set lines of his face.

He seemed so focused on getting to the car that she figured he was carrying her as an efficiency—which made her hesitate. She didn’t want to protest as though she thought it was some grand, romantic gesture when it was only a practical matter. She glanced up at him again and noticed his lips were pressed even tighter together. No, she told herself, it definitely wasn’t a romantic gesture.

* * *

Calen barely kept from grinding his teeth. He used to dream of picking Gracie up like this and, now that he had done it, he wondered where his good sense had gone. He wasn’t gaining any points with her—that much was clear. He could feel the protest almost bursting out of her, so he walked a little faster. Besides, he didn’t have time for old high school dreams. He needed to concentrate on the present right now so he could help his daughter.

“Don’t tell me she left the money from the robberies in the car?” Calen said to no one in particular as he got closer to where the sheriff stood. Of course, having the money might be a good thing, he reminded himself. At least Renee could give it back. That might gain her some leniency with the judge when she went to trial. He had heard the news reports about the robberies up north, but it never crossed his mind that Renee might be involved.

Calen set Gracie on the trunk of the car. She didn’t even meet his eyes, and he figured that couldn’t be good. So he looked away and saw Tyler.

“It’s not the money,” Tyler said once he had Calen’s attention.

If Calen hadn’t been in such a hurry, he might have wondered why Tyler’s voice had become softer as he stood there, the door to the backseat open.

Calen moved closer. The overhead light in the car gave off a dim glow, but he had no trouble seeing the beige cloth upholstery. A brown paper bag sat in the far corner with a plastic bread wrapper sticking up. A child’s car seat sat next to a red vinyl suitcase. If he wasn’t mistaken, he smelled fried chicken, likely the kind found at truck stops. He had to lean into the car before he could see the bundle of blankets on the floorboards and, even then, he took another moment to realize what it was.

“A little girl?” Calen whispered, fearful that Renee might have kidnapped a child somewhere in her flight. He wasn’t even sure if it was a girl. All he saw was a swatch of curly blond hair peeking out from the top of the blankets.

But then the keening sounded again and it was decidedly feminine.

“Are you okay?” Calen said then, bending down so he could see further into the car. For a moment, it didn’t matter who the girl was, she was terrified and he wanted to soothe her.

The blankets dipped slightly and he saw two tearful blue eyes peeking out. Calen knew the moment she saw him, as the sound she was making turned to a shriek and the blanket covered her eyes again.

Calen backed out of the car.

“I don’t want to scare her,” he said. Gracie had slid down from the trunk and was standing beside Tyler. Both of them had frowns on their faces. The sheriff had a flashlight and was shining the beam into the front seat of the car.

“I think I have something,” the lawman said as he opened that door.

The sheriff reached inside and pulled out a white envelope, squinting at it in the soft light of the car, and then looked at Calen. “It’s got your name on it.”

The man handed the letter to him. “I hope this gives us some answers. I haven’t received any alerts about missing children, but she might have been snatched tonight and not listed as missing yet.”

“Oh, I can’t believe Renee would kidnap some poor child,” Gracie burst out with a protest and gathered the collar of her robe more tightly around her. “She doesn’t look like she’s much more than a child herself.”

Calen glanced over and gave her a grateful smile before looking down. In her bathrobe, Gracie didn’t look that much older than Renee.

“Here,” he said with a gesture to the open door of the backseat. “You may as well sit inside the car. The child is going to need to talk to someone before long anyway.”

Calen bowed his head, holding the envelope. Father, give me wisdom for anything I read. Be with my daughter and the child in the car. Protect them both. Amen.

As he pulled the envelope flap back, Calen noticed how quiet it was. He glanced into the car again and saw that the girl had crawled up into Gracie’s lap. The little one still had tear streaks on her cheeks, but she looked calm for the first time. Maybe they’d be able to get some answers after all.

The envelope started to feel heavy in his hands. What had Renee wanted to say to him after all these years anyway?

Chapter Three

Gracie felt the girl snuggle as close as she could to her in the backseat of the car. Even then, the poor thing was shivering, and Gracie didn’t think it was from the cold alone because the girl had the blanket wrapped around her when she climbed over to Gracie.

“What’s your name?” Gracie whispered as she put her hand on the child’s head in much the same way as she soothed Rusty. She’d guess the child was two, maybe three years old.

The girl looked up at her, her eyes filling with tears.

Gracie felt her start to tremble more and she drew the little one closer to her. “That’s all right. You don’t need to talk right now. We’ll figure it out later.”

The words soothed the girl and she nestled back against Gracie, drawing the blanket over her head.

Gracie wished, and not for the first time since she had come back to Dry Creek, that she was more accepted in this community. She’d have more to offer this little one if she could call up a neighbor and ask how to help her talk. Her sons thought she needed a husband, but what she really needed was friends. The young mothers at church led their children away when she came near, and conversations stopped when she entered a room. She understood, of course. No one knew what to say to her now that she was an ex-con and, no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t seem to make it any better.

Mrs. Hargrove and her husband, Charley, accepted her, of course, but they were more like a kindly aunt and uncle than friends. For almost a year, Gracie had hid from what was happening, just as this little girl was doing now with her blanket. It was time to pull the covering away from her eyes and admit that she might never be accepted in this community. The people here acted like prison was a germ they could catch by being near her, and that was foolish. But they were right that she was different from them in ways they might find impossible to ever accept.

Looking down, she gently wiped the tears off the girl’s cheek. Gracie might not know as much about little girls as the women in the church did, but she knew how this poor child felt. Prison had taught her one thing. She recognized fear when she saw it.

After the child was breathing deeply in sleep, Gracie looked back at the men standing just outside the car. They had been watching her and the girl. Gracie shook her head slightly at them to show she knew nothing more than they did.

After a minute or so had passed in silence, Calen pulled the single sheet of paper out of the envelope and unfolded it.

Gracie could see it was written in pencil, and Calen squinted, probably having a hard time making out the faint letters in the wan light coming from the interior of the car. Then the sheriff stepped over with his flashlight and shone the beam on the letter.

“Oh.” Calen pulled back at the sudden light. Then, he began to read.

“Dad.” He cleared his throat, his voice heavy with an emotion that made Gracie blink back tears. A good parent always wanted to protect their child. She looked down at the little girl she held, thinking of how forlorn her sons must have been when she was in prison. She had missed them. During those years, seeing women grieve for the lost time with their children forged her strongest bond with the others, especially when she realized that their grief, like hers, was filled with guilt as well.

“Dad,” Calen began to read the letter again. “I’m in trouble and I don’t have anyone to take care of Tessie, my daughter—”

Calen broke off reading and looked over to where Gracie held the girl.

“This must be Tessie,” he whispered in wonder.

Gracie nodded. She saw the hope in Calen’s face. His whole face changed when he realized the girl was his daughter’s child. His mouth relaxed, his eyes lifted in a smile.

“Well, what do you know?” the sheriff said then as he looked at Calen. “You’re a grandpa. What else does your daughter say?”

Calen looked back at the letter. He sounded eager now. “It says here that Tessie is a special child, and Renee doesn’t want her to go into the foster-care system if something happens.”

Calen paused at that and looked at the sheriff. “Is that what they’ll do? Send her away?”

The sheriff thought a minute. “I need to call family services in when I arrest someone and they have a child with them. Of course, until the arrest, I don’t have much need to. As long as I know the child’s safe.”

“You can’t let Tessie go into the foster-care system,” Gracie protested. “The poor thing is terrified already.”

She could feel how fragile the child was.

“Foster care is no place for a toddler,” Tyler added as he stepped around the sheriff and moved closer to the car. His voice challenged the lawman.

“I don’t know what the courts will do,” the sheriff said defensively. “But sometimes foster care is for the best.”

“No, it’s not,” Tyler said swiftly. “Not by a long shot.”

Gracie’s heart broke. Her two youngest sons had never complained to her about being sent to that state home when she went to prison, but she knew in that instant she could never do enough to make it up to them.

She looked up at Tyler. The light from the sheriff’s flashlight was directed at the letter in Calen’s hands, but it caught the expression on Tyler’s face as well. He was looking at the girl in her arms as if he dared anyone to take the child away.

Gracie forced herself to remain calm. Tessie was still asleep, her head lying on Gracie’s shoulder. She looked up then and saw the ranch foreman staring at them.

“I suppose you think I let my sons down, too,” Gracie said to Calen.

“I’m not one to judge,” he said.

* * *

Calen had too much pride to beg, either. He’d been bucked off a horse once, but he had walked back to camp without asking for help even though his leg bone was splintered. Seeing Gracie with his new granddaughter made him want to fall to his knees and plead with her to tell him what she had done to give peace to the girl.

“Tessie will live with me as long as she needs,” Calen said, the decision made in his heart before he spoke the words. “And no one is going to send Renee away for long. She’ll get well and be on her feet again in no time. She’d want Tessie to be with me.”

“I don’t know,” the sheriff cautioned him. “Renee could be looking at four counts of robbery. I wouldn’t go making any plans right now. Besides, the family-services folks are going to ask you how you’re going to take care of that little one if her mother doesn’t get out for a while.”

“She’ll live with me,” Calen repeated.

“I know that,” the sheriff answered with some irritation in his voice. “But they’re going to want to know if she has a bed to sleep in and a doll to play with—that kind of thing. They’re not going to be too impressed with her growing up in some bunkhouse filled with ranch hands and dirty socks.”

“The men at the Elkton Ranch keep the bunkhouse neat,” Calen said stiffly, as he realized he didn’t know the first thing about how to take care of a little girl. He could protect her, sure. Rattlesnakes or flash floods would be no problem. But he didn’t quite know what she would eat. Did she have teeth yet? He supposed she was past needing baby food.

The sheriff grunted. “Have you ever held a child in your arms?”

“I held Renee.”

The sheriff gave him a look. “Recently, I mean.”