Man From Montana

Didn’t the boy have friends from school?

“Thanks,” Kara said, “but really, I don’t usually go to bars.” Not anymore.

“So you said.” He nodded. “But it’s not like it’s a rowdy honky-tonk—well, not from six to eight anyway.” He smiled. “I think the wildest person in the dinner crowd is usually Lily Tate. She loves the all-you-can-eat ribs, and if the cook runs out, she gets hostile.”

Kara laughed. Lily Tate was a regular customer at the bank, still feisty at seventy-eight. “Well, when you put it that way. I suppose I could come for a little while.”

“Great.”

Kara reached to set her lemonade glass on the table and, as she did, Derrick’s gaze fell on her wedding band.

He looked like someone had knocked the air out of him.

“That is,” he added, “if your husband won’t mind.”

CHAPTER THREE

KARA DIDN’T ANSWER for a long, drawn-out minute. Derrick waited. How could he have missed the ring on her left hand? Maybe because it was just a simple, white-gold band.

“My husband was killed eight months ago.”

Her quiet answer almost didn’t register. Shit. “Kara, I’m sorry.” Derrick wished he could wind the clock back five minutes and start over. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the look Connor gave him and felt even worse. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. It’s just that—”

She held up her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I can imagine you get all sorts of women falling all over you at the bar.”

That made him sound like a womanizer. “Well, not exactly, but I have had married women ask me out before.”

“I wasn’t the one doing the asking.”

She bit her lip, and he could see she was trying not to cry. He felt like the dirt under a worm’s belly.

“Kara—”

“Derrick, it’s okay.” She stood. “I’d better get back to my flower bed.”

“Then you’ll still come?”

She nodded. “Connor, it was real nice meeting you. I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Derrick watched her walk away, still feeling awful.

“Way to go, Dad.”

“Hey, how did I know?”

Connor merely shrugged.

Derrick strummed his guitar, playing but not singing. The image of Kara’s sad expression kept running through his mind. He’d be sure to do his best to make her smile tonight. Music was the best way he knew to ease sorrow.

“Connor, are you sure you don’t have any friends you want to invite to the Spur tonight?” It worried him that his son was a loner, the majority of his friends e-pals.

“I’m sure.”

“What about Kevin?” Connor’s classmate was the only kid he ever hung out with. Most of the others couldn’t see past Connor’s wheelchair.

“He’s got soccer practice today. His mom takes the team out for pizza afterward, and then he’ll probably spend the night at John Brody’s house.”

“Oh.” It hurt Derrick more than words could say that his son wasn’t able to take part in sports. It was yet another thing he’d taken from the boy.

“I’m gonna go check my e-mail,” Connor said.

“All right.” Derrick watched him wheel away, wishing there was something he could do for him. He’d give anything if Connor could join his school-mates on the soccer team, or the rodeo team next year, or whatever else he cared to do.

He just wanted his son to be happy.

The phone rang, and Derrick grabbed it off the hook. “Hello?”

There was no answer, and he nearly hung up, thinking it was a computerized telemarketer.

“Hello, son. How are you?”

“Mom?” His heart raced. His mother never called, even waited to talk to Connor when he was at Shelly’s. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I—” Her voice cracked and she began to cry.

“What is it? Did something happen to Dad?” He hadn’t spoken two words to his father since the accident, and not much more than that to his mom. Connor spent time with them, but Derrick had lost contact after they’d moved to Miles City—more than two hundred miles away.

“Mom?”

“No, it’s not your father. I, uh, just got out of the hospital a few days ago. I had to have some surgery.”

Fear gripped him. “For what?”

“The doctor found tumors on my ovaries. And boy, did that scare the hell out of me.” She sniffed. “You don’t know how many times I’ve started to pick up the phone to call you.”

“Why didn’t you?” But he knew why.

“Well, you know how your father is.”

“So, why are you calling now? You’re all right, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine. I had to have a hysterectomy, but there’s no sign of cancer, thank God.”

Derrick let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Anyway, all this got me thinking about how life really is too short. Son, I want to make things right between us. I’m so sorry for the way I’ve treated you. I—”