Noah And The Stork

“You being our newly elected mayor and all,” Earl said, “maybe you could make a law against ex-boyfriends who show up every decade or so and cause trouble. I’m sure Clary would be happy to enforce it.”

Janey didn’t quibble with Mr. Tilford’s assumption that Noah was there to cause trouble. Intentional or not, trouble was what he brought. As for the rest of it, “I think I can handle Noah without throwing around my political weight,” she said, tongue firmly tucked in cheek, “or calling in local law enforcement.”

“Well, at the very least, a girl could use a cookie when she’s facing an ordeal like this.” Earl came out from behind the counter and offered her one of the huge cookies—loaded with nuts and chocolate chips—that he was famous for.

“Just the air in here is enough to put ten pounds on me,” Janey protested, but she took the cookie, broke off a piece and slipped it into her mouth. She closed her eyes and let it melt on her tongue, sighing her approval. “Then again, this is worth a couple hundred extra sit-ups.”

“Here’s one for Jessie,” he said, handing her a bakery bag and waving off her thanks. “Knowing you appreciate it is reward enough for getting up at 3:00 a.m. If I was twenty years younger—”

“You’d still marry Meggie and break my heart.”

“You’re right. And my girls would still grow up and leave town.” Earl sighed, but the smile was back on his face by the time he ducked under the pass-through and straightened to look over the counter. “Dee’s stationed in Germany these days, and Andie’s a fancy pastry chef in one of them New York hotels. Meggie’s working on her, but the harder she pushes Andie to come home for a visit, the more stubborn the girl gets. I think Meggie’d be smarter to back off, use that reverse psychology I always hear about, but—” he shrugged “—they’re peas in a pod, one of them just as pigheaded as the other.”

“My money’s on Meg,” Janey said with a smile. Literally. There was a pool down at the Ersk Inn, and Janey had put down her five dollars like everyone else in town. “If Meg can get Andie to visit by the Fourth of July, I’ll have more to thank you for than your cookies.”

She left Earl laughing, stepping out into streaming sunshine and nearly colliding with Sam Tucker. Besides owning one of the biggest ranches around, Sam was also the town veterinarian. As if that wasn’t enough, he was tall and handsome, with a body that belonged on a billboard—the kind that advertised boxers. Or briefs. When Sam was in town, girls sighed and went dreamy, mothers got that wedding glint in their eyes, and fathers made sure their shotguns were loaded with rock salt. Better to chase him off in the first place than deal with the broken heart he always left behind. Sam wasn’t known for monogamy.

Janey had gone out with him once or twice, but she’d been in no danger. Her heart had already been broken before Sam came into the picture.

Sam dropped a kiss on her cheek and plucked the rest of the cookie out of her hand in one smooth motion. “You going to marry me, Janey?”

“Not today,” she teased back, watching the rest of her cookie disappear in two huge bites. “Y’know, Earl sells those right in there.”

Sam craned his head to peer in the open door of the bakery, then gave her the kind of grin he used to charm women out of more than baked goods. “I’ve got a perfectly fine kitchen of my own out at the ranch.”

“Then maybe you should stop flirting with every girl in the state and marry one who can put that kitchen to use.”

“I keep asking you, but you keep turning me down.”

“You keep asking me because you know I’ll turn you down,” Janey said, setting off down the raised wooden walk-way that was a holdover from pioneer days, when the streets were dirt, or mud, and concrete wasn’t a fact of life yet.

Sam laughed, slinging an arm over her shoulder and falling into step with her. “It’s just wrong for a woman to keep this kind of anatomy to herself.” He made a big show of peering over his shoulder.

Janey elbowed him in the side. “Forget my anatomy.”

“Your anatomy is unforgettable. Nobody fills out a pair of jeans the way you do.” Sam faced forward again. “But I should’ve known it was hopeless when I heard Noah Bryant was back in town.”

“When did you hear that?” she asked, knowing she hadn’t managed to sound casual when Sam tightened his grip, turning it into a comforting one-armed hug.

“George Donaldson ran into him in Plains City around lunch today. Said Noah told him he’d be in town on business for a little while.”

“C’mon, Sam, can you believe anything George says?”

“Why would he make it up?”

“Well, it’s George,” was the nicest explanation she could come up with.

“It’s no secret George gets a kick out of winding other people up and then watching them walk into walls, but I don’t think he’s stupid enough to make up something like this,” Sam said. “If Max didn’t kick George’s ass, then Noah would. The two of them never got along. I remember one time…”

Janey tuned him out. She didn’t need Sam’s version of history; she’d lived it. “Do you know if he’s in town yet?”

That question earned her another hug. “I don’t know. But here’s Clary. I’ll bet he knows.”

“Knows what?”

Janey looked up just as Clarence Beeber stepped onto the boardwalk, Jessie at his side. His gaze dropped to Sam’s arm, still draped over Janey’s shoulder. Clary didn’t say a word, but Sam took his arm back and put some distance between them.

Janey smiled and shook her head. Even if Sam’s flirting had been more than big talk, he would never have moved in on a woman Clary was interested in. The two had been best friends practically from the womb.

“What am I supposed to know?” Clary asked again.

“Just the latest gossip,” Sam said, glancing at Jessie, all big ears and wide eyes, hanging on every word—spoken and unspoken.

Clary’s face hardened, and Janey knew he’d heard about Noah’s return already. Even if his expression hadn’t given it away, there was no need to guess how he was taking it. Everything about Clary was starched, from his uniform to his personality, and once he made up his mind, there was no changing it. He had very definite ideas of right and wrong, the kind of ideas that could best be described as black and white. As far as he was concerned, Noah had screwed up, and no shades of gray, like youth or ignorance, could mitigate his crime. But Clary would never say as much in front of Jessie. He might apply the law as if it were set in stone, but he did it with compassion—when he felt compassion was warranted.

“I don’t suppose there’s any way you’d leave it alone altogether, Clary,” Janey said.

Sam snorted. “You’d have more luck asking old man Winston’s prize bull why he keeps charging with the barbed-wire fence.”

“If you’re done insulting me, Sam, you ought to go on out there and stitch him up again.”

“That’s where I was headed, before I decided to propose to Janey.” Sam winked at her. “She turned me down, Clary. Maybe you should give it a try.”

Clary went red from his collar to his hairline. Sam clapped him on the shoulder and sauntered off in the direction of the vet clinic, laughing the whole way.

“Sam’s just giving you a hard time,” Janey said, turning toward home because the longer she looked at Clary, the more embarrassed he seemed to get, and she didn’t want to be responsible for his head bursting into flame.

He started walking with her, but he kept Jessie between them, the poor kid’s head swiveling back and forth like a tennis court official’s, even though no one was talking. Or maybe because no one was talking. They continued in silence for another block or so before Clary spoke. Janey didn’t miss the fact that Jessie got him going with a nudge.

“Can I, uh, give you and Jessie a ride to the graduation party tomorrow?” he asked.

Since everyone in Erskine and Plains City knew everyone else, they’d decided years ago to have one party each year for the eighth graders graduating from Erskine Elementary and the seniors who’d survived Plains City High School. Sara and Max Devlin didn’t have any actual graduates, but they had a nice, big ranch not too far from either town, and they’d offered to host.

“Jessie and I are going out to Sara’s early to help them set up,” Janey said.

“I think it would be a good idea if I drove the two of you.” Clary looked over at her. “You know,” he said, his eyes dropping to nine-year-old level, then back up. “Just in case.”

“In case of what?” Jessie piped up.

“Just in case,” Janey said to her daughter. “Do me a favor and go on home. I’ll catch up with you in a few minutes.”

“You’re going to talk about me, aren’t you?”

“I think we’re going to talk about Noah,” Janey said, giving in to the inevitable.

“That’s still about me. I have a right—”

“You’re nine years old. You don’t have any rights.”

“Janey!”

“Mom…” Jessie said at the same time, making that one word about three syllables long, and loading it with indignation.

“Jessie, you know there are occasions when you get sent out of the room—or sent home, in this instance—so I can talk without having to worry about what I say. Sometimes that conversation will be about you, and sometimes it won’t, but it’s always going to be something I don’t think you’re ready to hear, and stamping your foot and scowling at me won’t change that fact.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, sweetie,” Jane said, brushing a hand over her daughter’s hair. “It’s not fair, but it’s how things work, and I think you’d rather I was honest about that much, at least.”

Jessie glanced over at Clary, and when she saw he wasn’t going to intervene, she did as Janey asked, making it absolutely clear she was going under protest.

“Do you think that was the best way to handle her?”

“She’s not stupid, Clary. And if you weren’t so determined to talk about this, I wouldn’t have to handle her at all.”

“You’re right.” Clary pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should’ve waited until you had a chance to tell her that her father’s back in town.”

“She met him two weeks ago,” Janey said without thinking, then caught the look on his face. “Jessie didn’t tell you.”

“Neither did you.”

“I’m sorry, Clary. It’s difficult enough without the whole town asking questions—not that Jessie or I thought you’d spread it around. I guess neither of us really wanted to talk about it. But I should have told you.”

“I’m sure you had a lot on your mind, Janey. Don’t worry about it,” Clary said. But his expression told a different story. He was hurt; maybe he hadn’t officially asked her out, but everyone in town knew how he felt, and it was not only understandable for a man who’d buried his wife at his young age to take his time jumping into another relationship, it was expected in a town like Erskine.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he wanted an explanation, and after what she’d held back already, she felt she owed it to him. Not that there was all that much to tell. “He showed up two weeks ago, out of the blue, and before I could get rid of him, Jessie came out of the house. Noah took one look at her and just seemed to…know.”

“It’s the eyes,” Clary said grudgingly.

“Yeah,” Janey agreed. It was more than that, but the rest of the similarities were subtler, deeper, and she was the only person in town who knew Noah well enough to pick up on them. “Anyway, he said he was here on business, and that he’d be back this way when he was done.”

“And you haven’t seen him.”

“He’s back now.”

“So I hear, but you haven’t seen him.”

“It can’t be easy for him, either, Clary, discovering he has a nine-year-old daughter.”

“It didn’t have to be a surprise, Janey.”

“I know.”

“And yet here you are, defending him.”

“Yeah,” she said with a humorless smile. “But here’s the thing. Being angry with him won’t make this easier on any of us, especially Jessie.”

“You’re right.” Clary flipped off his Stetson and rotated it in his hands as he always did when he was agitated. “It’s just…With his track record, I’d hate to see her get her hopes up.”

“Trust me, she’s not going into this with false hopes.” Janey smiled for real this time, remembering the way Jessie had seen Noah off that morning two weeks ago. “And she’s not going to make it easy on him, either.”

“She’s your daughter,” Clary said, his face folded into its usual sober lines. “Don’t think you have to go through this alone, Janey. If you need anything…”

“You’ll be the first one I call, but Clary—” she put her hand on his arm and he stopped, turning to look at her “—I know how you feel.”

“I know.” His face went red again, and there was so much hope shining in his eyes it was almost painful to see.

“Just for the next little while, I have to concentrate on Jessie.”

“Sure. I understand.”

“Thanks,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze.

Clary opened his mouth to speak, but something over her shoulder caught his attention. “Does Bryant drive a red Porsche?” he asked.

Janey turned around and squinted in the same direction, barely making out a bit of red behind the rusted-out hulk of Arliss Cunningham’s truck parked a ways down on the opposite side of the street. “You can tell from here that’s a Porsche? Must be a guy thing.”

He gave her a sheepish smile that hardly registered, since Janey was busy looking up and down the street. Sure enough, she saw a tall suit-clad form coming out of Keller’s Market. Unfortunately, so did Clary. He took one step in that direction before Janey blocked him.

“Where are you going?”

“I just want to have a little talk with him.”

“Is he doing something wrong? Something illegal,” she qualified.

His expression was stony as he watched Noah change directions and come straight toward them. “I’m sure I can come up with something.”

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