A Place for Family Read online

  As he strolled up the lane toward the house, Tucker loped out to meet him. A brand-new stars-and-stripes bandanna had replaced the ratty old one, and the Lab strutted proudly alongside John as they went up the back steps. Even before he opened the door, he heard trouble. Woman trouble.

  “I am not using that thing,” Marianne was seething. “I’m pregnant, not paralyzed.”

  Fighting off a grin, John swung open the door. “Good morning to you, too.”

  Sitting on her usual throne, she turned to him with a peeved expression. “John, explain to this man—” she waved absently in Ridge’s direction “—that I do not need a wheelchair.”

  Glancing into the corner, John saw what looked to him like a nice, modern wheelchair. “Whose is that?”

  “I borrowed it from Priscilla Fairman.” Ridge aimed an amused look at his very stubborn wife. “Who also insisted she didn’t need it.”

  “That’s different,” Marianne huffed. “Priscilla broke her ankle.”

  “If I hadn’t caught you on the steps at church yesterday,” John pointed out, “you’d have broken your ankle, too.”

  “Ridiculous.”

  “Hey, it’s totally understandable.” John plunked himself down on the bench and started digging for the sports section. “If I couldn’t see my own feet, I’d be tripping, too.”

  He didn’t look up, but he could feel his big sister trying to laser a hole in his skull. Fury poured off her in waves, and he knew her arms were folded over top of the twins. Sawyer girls were like that, he knew from vast personal experience. His sisters, and all his female relatives were spitfires, every one of them. Amanda fit the mold perfectly.

  Where had that come from? After a brief jolt of panic, he decided it was just early and he wasn’t completely awake yet.

  Taking the seat beside John, Ridge got uncharacteristically serious with Marianne. Which told John just how much worry his brother-in-law was carting around these days. “You’re not walking anywhere outside this house anymore. End of discussion.”

  “I don’t want everyone seeing me in that.”

  “The football team’s heading up the parade this year, Mom,” Kyle reminded her through a mouthful of cereal.

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she snapped.

  Obediently, he swallowed. “You’re the team mom. Don’t you want to see all us Wildcats in our gear, walking down Main Street with our trophy?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Nancy’s bringing her new ducklings, Mommy,” Emily chimed in. “There’s a lot of them, and she needs me to help pull her wagon.”

  “Ridge, you can take the kids,” Amanda offered while she flipped pancakes on the griddle. “I’ll stay here with Marianne.”

  “Not a chance,” John protested. Amanda had always been a social butterfly, and her reluctance to leave the farm baffled—and worried—him. “You haven’t been into town once since you got back. Folks are gonna start to wonder if you’ve grown an extra head or something.”

  She opened her mouth, probably to fire off some of that sharp wit she loved to fling around. Apparently, she thought better of it and just stuck her tongue out at him. Not exactly polite, but he was making progress with her. She’d gotten to be less careful around him, which was a huge improvement over where they’d stood just last week.

  Leaning back, Ridge stared silently at his wife. Even though he didn’t speak, his demeanor clearly said he wasn’t budging.

  Outmaneuvered, Marianne finally relented with a warm smile for Kyle. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “We’d better get a move on, then,” Amanda said. “The kids have to be there early to get lined up.”

  She set a platter of steaming pancakes in the middle of the table and sat down with a bowl of plain oatmeal. No brown sugar, no syrup. Just oatmeal. Weird.

  “I’ve never marched before, Amanda,” Emily confided with a slight frown. “Have you?”

  Amanda gave her a bright smile. “All the time. Your uncle John and I marched with the football team and cheerleaders every year in high school.”

  “With the trophy,” he added proudly. “They’re still in the case at Harland High.”

  “Those were the days, huh?” Ridge teased.

  “Fun times,” he agreed, grinning across the table at Amanda. “Amanda was cheer captain all four years.”

  Emily’s eyes widened in awe. “You must’ve been really good.”

  “Mostly, I was the only one brave enough to get tossed in the air and be on top of our formations.”

  “Don’t let her fool you, sweetness,” John said. “She was awesome.”

  Grinning, Amanda dug into her bland breakfast. He couldn’t fathom why she’d want to eat that when there were plenty of buttermilk pancakes and bacon to go around. That was probably how she’d gotten to be the size of a fence rail. He’d work on her today, though. The town picnic would be full of irresistible, fattening things to eat. If he really put his mind to it, he had no doubt he could get her to loosen up and indulge a little.

  John rarely got a day off this time of year, and knowing he’d be spending this one with Amanda made it feel extraspecial. He hadn’t looked forward to a parade this much in a long time.

  * * *

  Amanda couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually celebrated Memorial Day. Taking advantage of the holiday, she’d go into the office and get more accomplished than she usually did in a week. With no interruptions or distractions, no ringing phones, texts or email alerts, it was one of the most productive days she had all year long.

  This one would be productive, too, she supposed. Just in a different way. While she packed fried chicken and various salads into Marianne’s picnic hamper, she found herself smiling. The thing was enormous, and she hated to imagine the size of the meal that would actually fill it.

  She carefully laid the pies on top—cherry, blueberry and apple—and wasn’t surprised when the lid closed with room to spare. When she tried to lift it, she got a rude shock. It weighed about half a ton, and she wasn’t sure she could move it gracefully enough to keep everything inside from toppling over.

  “Don’t worry.” Coming up behind her, John stepped in without being asked. “I got it.”

  She elbowed him out of the way and grasped the handles firmly. “I can do it.”

  Without blinking, he moved back, hands raised in surrender. He didn’t say anything, just leaned down to lift the full ice chest from the floor.

  She appreciated his letting her manage on her own. Because of her small stature, most guys assumed she was helpless. “Thank you.”

  “For letting you be stubborn or for helping with the cooler?” he asked with a knowing grin.

  “Both.”

  Once she got the basket balanced, she led the way to the back door. She pushed it open and held it for John, then followed him out to the Collinses’ van.

  After they got everything loaded, John turned to her with another grin. “I’m glad you’re coming with us. It’ll be fun.”

  Amanda wished she could share his confidence. “I hope so.”

  His grin mellowed into something softer, and his gaze warmed as he brushed a stray curl out of her eyes. “It will, Panda. You’ll see.”

  “I haven’t seen these people in forever. Most of them probably won’t even remember me.”

  “Are you kidding? Local girl in the Hollywood spotlight? Folks still ask me how you’re doing out there, when you’re coming back. Now you can tell ’em yourself.”

  Something in his tone told her those conversations weren’t always pleasant for him. She could only guess how difficult it was to continue fielding questions about an old friend who’d basically turned her back on him years ago. But he’d told her very plainly to quit apologizing for that, so she settled for what she ho
ped was a bright smile. “Sounds good.”

  Ridge appeared behind them and slid the offending wheelchair into an open spot. “We’d better get going before Marianne changes her mind again.”

  John chuckled in sympathy. “Pregnancy sure does a number on a woman’s personality, doesn’t it?”

  “Tell me about it.” Rubbing his neck with his hand, Ridge gave John a hopeful look. “It’ll get better, right?”

  “Sure, in a couple months. Once the twins are here, you’ll be so tired you won’t notice Marianne’s mood swings anymore.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  Once everyone was settled in the three rows of the van, they headed for town. Fortunately, the marchers had to be there early, because half an hour later there wasn’t a parking spot to be had anywhere within a mile of the parade route.

  Amanda suspected Ridge had spread the word about Marianne’s condition, because not one single person mentioned the wheelchair. The fact that they’d all go along with his request was so touching, it made Amanda a little misty. She’d spent so many years away, she’d forgotten how caring the people of Harland were.

  She felt awkward at first, wondering how folks would react when they saw her again after all these years. Before long, she discovered that John was right. Every one of them remembered her, stopping to ask how she liked being home again. After she’d spent thirteen years away, they still considered Harland her home. To her surprise, Amanda realized that she did, too.

  That must be why, of all the places she’d passed during her long trip across the country, she’d never questioned where she was heading. Maybe, somewhere deep in her heart, she knew this tiny Carolina town was where she needed to be.

  All along Main Street, flags waved from every house, building and lamppost. Bunting swagged along the railings, and “Thank you, veterans” signs were posted wherever there was space. It was like watching an old movie, set in a time when traditional values still meant something.

  Why had she ever wanted to forget this? Amanda searched her memory but couldn’t come up with the answer. When she was younger, Harland had felt so small, its laid-back pace much too slow for her. Now, rather than a place trapped in the past, it seemed like a beacon of hope and solidity in a world that spun way too fast for her to keep up.

  The mushy perspective caught her by surprise, because she wasn’t one to think about things that way. The sentimental theme of the day must be getting to her.

  At the end of the route, a small military band appeared, and its conductor raised his pristine white gloves. The drummer started the familiar rim beats to keep them in step as they began marching. Walking backwards, the director led them down the street and stopped next to the square. As if on cue, everyone in the crowd stood and removed their caps for the opening chords of “The Star Spangled Banner.” With hands over their hearts, they sang along in a variety of voices that amused Amanda even as she sang with them.

  This was home, she thought with a smile. This was why she’d come back.

  After the somber opening, the parade swung into celebration mode. The champion Wildcats and their enthusiastic cheer squad led the way, and Amanda cheered when she saw Kyle right up front with the other team captains. Local volunteer firefighters and EMTs drove their gleaming trucks through town, blaring their horns and sirens while their kids threw candy out to the crowd.

  Emily and her friend were laughing while they pulled a wagon filled with ducklings up the parade route. Other kids had their 4-H project goats and chickens, and several pretty horses high-stepped along with the music from the band. Amanda was busily snapping pictures with her phone when she noticed something that made her blink and look again.

  A boy who looked about ten was guiding a huge hog with a fluffy pink ribbon along the street. Grinning ear to ear, he waved to Amanda as she snapped his picture. That was something you just didn’t see every day.

  After the parade, everyone assembled in the square for a short ceremony. Shaded by huge trees and surrounded on four sides by churches, in the center stood a monument to all the Harland soldiers who had lost their lives in combat. Each of the clergymen made a brief statement, picking up where the one before had left off. When Pastor Charles stood to end the speeches, Amanda paid special attention. This was the man who’d graciously invited her to his church. Even though she’d declined the invitation, his kind gesture had touched her very much.

  “I don’t have much to add,” he began with a nod toward his fellow clergy. Turning back, he skimmed the crowd with keen eyes. When that fatherly gaze landed on her, Amanda realized he’d been looking for her, and she smiled.

  “But this I’m sure of,” he continued. “Once a Harlander, always a Harlander. Wherever one of us might go, those we left behind will keep us in their hearts. Always loved, and never forgotten.”

  Amanda applauded along with everyone else before following the Sawyers to the spot they’d claimed earlier by spreading three large patchwork quilts on the ground. While she knew perfectly well the pastor had been talking about soldiers who’d passed on, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d intended his message to hold a special meaning for her. Someone who’d left but, judging by her warm reception this morning, was still thought of fondly. It gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling.

  Amanda had spent most of the morning preparing and packing their lunch, but the Sawyer crew demolished it in about twenty minutes. Without a schedule to keep, they all pitched in to clean up and lazed around chatting for a while. When the three kids got fidgety, their parents took them over to the playground, and Seth and Lisa wandered over to join some friends nearby.

  That left Amanda alone with John, who seemed in no hurry to go. Now that their lively group was gone, she couldn’t think of anything to talk about. Staring up at the tree they were sitting under, she asked, “Is this new?”

  “Sure is.” Leaning back on his elbows, John glanced up at it, then over to the church. “The old one caved in the church roof last Thanksgiving. Seth headed up the repair crew, and before he left for home he planted this tree because Lisa liked the old one so much.”

  A detail in the sweet story confused her. “He left? Why?”

  John shrugged. “He thought it was time to go, I guess. Christmas Eve he figured out he was in love with Lisa, so he came back. On New Year’s Eve, he asked her to marry him.”

  “Very romantic.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  She couldn’t miss the lack of interest in John’s drawl. “Not your style, plowboy?”

  “Being married’s not my style,” he replied with a grimace.

  “Well, of course not,” she teased. “That would seriously cramp your dating life.”

  “Got that right.”

  The lively exchange was fun but over much too quickly. Since he seemed intent on hanging out with her, Amanda hunted for something else to talk about. Her gaze wandered to the little white church she’d attended while she was growing up. Every Sunday, dressed in her nicest clothes, she’d gone to Sunday school and later sung hymns and listened to sermons with the adults. She didn’t hate it, by any means, but it hadn’t left her with a burning desire to continue the practice.

  “It’s hard to believe how bad the damage was,” she said. “Can you show me how you guys fixed it up?”

  He gave her a puzzled look, then shrugged. “Sure.”

  Standing, he offered her a hand up. She landed much closer to him than she’d meant to and nearly lost her balance. Fortunately, he caught her before she could embarrass herself, and she murmured her thanks.

  “I’d never let you fall.” Framed by the sparse branches of the young tree, he stood in a spotlight of sunshine. As he grinned down at her, her heart melted just a little, and she barely stifled a sigh.

  This man was walking trouble, she reminded herself. He’d sailed through dozens of women, dropping
anchor briefly before moving on to the next. That was the last thing she needed right now. John was a stalwart friend, someone she could count on through thick and thin. That was exactly what she did need, and her foolish, fluttering heart was just going to have to deal with it.

  They went up the steps and paused in the double doorway. Like so many things here in Harland, the chapel looked pretty much the way it did in her memory. Something was different, though, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  “The roof was gone from here—” John pointed to the front corner “—most of the way back. Seth and the roofers decided to replace the whole thing. Then he and Lisa rebuilt the pews and the stage, refinishing them and the floor so everything matched up.”

  Impressive as all that was, Amanda’s mind had hitched onto something else entirely. “You expanded it, too.”

  “Pastor Charles wanted to, but we couldn’t afford that along with all the repairs. Maybe next year.”

  “That can’t be right.” Amanda studied the walls closely as she walked up the aisle. “It feels larger than I remember.”

  John chuckled. “That’s funny. Usually when you go back somewhere you spent time in as a kid, the place feels smaller ’cause you’re bigger.”

  He was right. It was a strange error to make, and she shook her head in confusion. Just then, a shaft of colored sunlight caught her eye, calling her attention to the beautiful stained-glass window just above the altar. During services, she’d often stared at the scene of Jesus surrounded by animals, admiring how the sun moved through the design to make gemlike prisms on the floorboards.

  Unable to stop herself, she moved toward the window, drawn by something she couldn’t begin to explain. Pausing in front of it, she examined it carefully, trying to figure out what had fascinated her all of a sudden. She’d seen that window a million times, and it hadn’t affected her this way.

  “You okay?” John asked from over her shoulder.

  Still staring, she nodded. Apparently, that wasn’t good enough, and he gently turned her to face him. “Are you sure? You look a little freaked out.”