“Apple, tree. Short drop.”
“I know it. I don’t know Alice,” Chase said abruptly. “I don’t have feelings about her, for her. Except feeling sick and sorry finding out she’s been through the worst kind of hell, and likely years of it. But I don’t know her, I don’t have that kind of connection with her. I’ve got to think about the women I do know, I do have that tie with.”
Running out of words for a moment, Chase rubbed his hands over his face. “Grammy’s damn near ninety. How am I supposed to stop her from spending hours in a hospital waiting room?”
“Give her a distraction. Give her a task.”
Chase threw up his hands, a dead giveaway of frustration in a man of economic words and gestures. “Like what?”
“Well, Jesus, I don’t know. A grandmother thing. She’s Alice’s grandmother, so she’s got that tie you don’t—and you sure as hell shouldn’t be feeling guilty over that, son.”
“She’s my mother’s sister.”
“So the fuck what, Chase? You never met her in your life. Clothes.” It struck Callen as inspired.
“What about clothes?”
“Bodine said Alice only had the clothes on her back—and they took those, sent them off to be analyzed. She’s going to need clothes, isn’t she?”
“I expect, but—”
“Think about it. You go back in there and over breakfast you mention how Alice doesn’t have anything but those hospital gowns, I’ll bet you a week’s pay your ma and Miss Fancy jump all over that like they’ve got springs in their feet.”
“I … They would, too. I never thought of it.”
“Likely they haven’t yet, either.” Callen pitched more soiled hay into the barrow. “They’re reeling from all this, but it won’t be long before they think of the practical. You think of it first, get them going on it.”
“That’s a damn good idea.”
“I solve world issues while shoveling horse shit.”
Chase’s smile came fast, but faded just as quickly. “Cal, there’s a man somewhere, somewhere too damn close, who’d do what was done to Alice. Any way to solve that one?”
“I’ll work on it, as there’s plenty of horse shit. Take care of your family, and remember I can warm a seat in a waiting room. I’m going to be in Missoula this afternoon, so I can head to the hospital after I’m done there.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
Callen nodded. “Then I will,” he said, and went back to his mucking out.
*
That afternoon, after readjusting the schedule, tapping Maddie to come in for a last-minute lesson, and putting Ben in charge, Callen knocked on the bright blue door of his sister’s pretty house. The windows flanking the door held chili-pepper-red window boxes he knew his brother-in-law had built. Pansies, with the purple and yellow faces he always thought a little too human, spilled out of them.
His sister would have planted them.
He knew a greenhouse stood in the backyard that—along with a clever swing set that mimicked a spaceship—they’d built together.
Just as they’d built a life together, a family, their clever arts and crafts shop. The backyard also held a kiln house, so some of the pottery on the store’s shelves carried his sister’s mark.
She’d always been clever, he thought now. Able to make something interesting out of something most would take as cast-off trash.
They’d fought as siblings do, and he’d preferred Chase’s company and the ranch to hers and home. But he’d always had an admiration for Savannah’s creativity. Even her near-to-unflappable calm—though when his own blood boiled inside him, her cool attitude frustrated the shit out of him.
But when Savannah opened the door, her brown hair in braids, her face as pretty as a frosted cupcake, and her belly outright huge under a checkered shirt, he felt only a warm shot of love.
“How do you get out of bed hauling that around?” He gave the belly a gentle poke.
“Justin rigged up a pulley system.”
“I wouldn’t put it past him. Where’s the big guy?”
“Nap time—though that precious hour is nearly up. Come in quick, while there’s some actual quiet.”
She pulled him inside, bumping her belly—just a little weird—against him in a hug. “He’s got the puppy in bed with him, too. He thinks he’s pulling one over on me.”
She walked into the living room—a big, deep cushioned sofa with happy red poppies on a blue background, wing chairs in red with blue stripes—all of which they’d found at flea markets and reupholstered. Like the tables they’d refinished, the lamps Savannah had saved from some junk pile, painted up and made new again.
All the pieces all around, he thought, bits and pieces, nothing perfect, nothing exact. And everything that made a home.
She plopped down in a chair, rubbed her belly.
“Ma’s getting dressed. You’re early. You want coffee? I’ve already had my one allowed cup for the day—I just can’t quit it—but I can make you some.”
“Just sit.”
“How about some sassafras tea, cowboy?”
He grinned. “Not in this life, you weird-ass hippie. Why aren’t you at the shop?”
“I needed a day off. I had some things to finish up in the workshop, and Justin starts getting overprotective about this stage of the bake-off.” She patted her belly again. “I could’ve taken Ma today, Cal. I know how you feel about it.”
“It’s no problem.”
“I can get a sitter easy, if you want me along.”
“Don’t worry about it, Vanna.”
“She’s really looking forward to it—mostly it’s spending time with you.” She looked up at the ceiling as she heard a thump, a series of yips, and boy-size gut laughter. “Time’s up.”
“I’ll go get him.”
Savannah waved Callen back down. “No need for that. Believe me, he knows the way. And I made the mistake of telling him you were coming by. So brace yourself.”
“I like him. He’s got your what-can-I-do-with-this way and Justin’s look-at-the-funny-side attitude. You made an entertaining kid.”
“Working on another. Want to know which kind?”
“Which kind of what? Oh, boy or girl? I thought you weren’t finding out.”
“We weren’t—we didn’t with Brody, and he was the best surprise ever. So we weren’t, and we didn’t, then we were talking one night about how the nursery, which was gender neutral, evolved into boy. Did we leave it, do it neutral again, or what now that we’ve got Brody in his big guy room, and are about to fill the crib again. So we decided, just find out. And we did.”
“Okay, what flavor’s in there?”
“Strawberry ice cream.”
“Pink? A girl.” He stretched out his foot to give hers a nudge. “You’ll have one of each. Nice work.” He watched her belly ripple. “Talk about weird.”
“She knows we’re talking about her. Aubra or Lilah. We’ve got it down to those two. Whoever wins gets first name, the other middle. Which one do you like?”