Big Sky Family

Coming back to Potter Creek meant she’d have more time and have the chance to renew old friendships. Perhaps that was what coming home was all about.

“Do you run the shop all by yourself?” Ellie asked.

“Mostly. Sometimes Aunt Martha fills in for an afternoon or two to give me a break, and I have Ivy from the diner stand in for me occasionally.”

Ellie frowned. “How are you going to handle things after the baby arrives?”

She smiled brightly. “Oh, I may close down for a few weeks. Then I’ll bring him or her along with me. That should work for the first year or so.”

“Watch out for those toddler years,” Ellie warned, thinking her friend might not fully realize what an energy drain a child could be. “There’s no keeping them corralled in a playpen then.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Mindy conceded.

While Ellie and Mindy caught up with their respective lives Torie searched through the assortment of craft possibilities.

“So, um, where’s Torie’s father?” Mindy asked.

“I haven’t a clue. Apparently, being a father wasn’t on his to -do list.” Jake Radigan hadn’t been a college student, but he’d hung out with some of the guys, showing off his motorcycle, revving the engine. Apparently he was a good mechanic, because he kept his friends’ junker cars running, working out of a garage behind his rental house.

His “wild side” had attracted Ellie, she supposed. His lack of roots.

That same lack of roots meant that he rode off into the sunset on his bike virtually the moment he learned Ellie was pregnant.

In retrospect, that was probably for the best.

Torie returned from her search in the back of the shop with an “Old Woman in a Shoe” craft that she could lace with red yarn and hang on her bedroom wall.

“I found some yarn that would make a pretty sweater for me,” Torie announced.

“Well, then, let’s take a look.” Ellie followed her daughter to a wall filled with bins of yarn. Mindy joined them.

Torie held up a skein of emerald-green sport-weight yarn. “The green goes with my eyes.”

“Yes, it does, sweetie,” Mindy announced.

Ellie thought so, too. The pale green eyes were the only trace of Torie’s father she saw in her daughter.

“All right, honey. We’ll have to pick out a pattern you like.” During the evenings, sitting with her mother, watching TV, would be a good time to knit.

After pouring over pattern books and making a selection, Ellie was paying for their purchases when Mindy said, “You’ll both have to come out to the ranch for supper one day soon.”

Credit card in hand, Ellie stiffened. “Oh, I don’t know.”

“You must. My favorite brother-in-law is the best cook in the world. He and Daniel remodeled the kitchen years ago, so it’s totally accessible for him. You should taste his chili.” She brought her fingertips to her lips and kissed them. “Absolutely delicious … if you don’t mind burning your tonsils out, as Daniel would say.”

A nervous titter escaped Ellie’s lips, but eating dinner with Arnie—at the ranch or anywhere else—wasn’t on her to -do list. Or, more importantly, on Arnie’s list, despite what he’d said about Ellie’s intelligence and looks. Those words had been for Vanna’s benefit, hadn’t they?

“It’s sweet of you to ask. But you know, I’m still settling in.” She gave Mindy another quick hug. “We’ll get together soon, I promise.” Sometime when Arnie is far, far away.

“But you and Arnie used to have a thing going. I thought you’d want to—”

“That thing was a long time ago, Mindy.” Ellie didn’t imagine for a moment that Arnie would want a repeat of their past. “Sometimes you just can’t go back.”

Waving goodbye to Mindy, Ellie ushered her daughter outside.

A few minutes later, as she pulled into the driveway of her mother’s house, she thought about how the tension between her and Arnie—the undercurrent of anger he exuded—was her fault.

In a small town such as this, she would be seeing him often. She needed to clear the air. Apologize. Whether he acknowledged or accepted her apology was up to him.

She needed to make the effort.

Chapter Five

Wiping her sweaty palm unobtrusively on her skirt, Ellie braced herself Thursday evening for whatever might happen at the school board meeting. She kept a smile on her face, desperately trying not to let her nerves show. Whatever happened tonight was important to the future of Ability Counts.

Standing at the back door of the Potter Creek Elementary School multipurpose room, she greeted parents and supporters of Ability Counts as they arrived. She gave each person one of the campaign-style buttons she’d ordered in Manhattan so they could demonstrate the community’s support to the school trustees.

They were, after all, elected officials.

“Hello, Mrs. Axelrod,” she said, handing Nancy’s mother a button. “Thank you for coming tonight.”

Mrs. Axelrod pinned the red, white and blue button on the lapel of her lightweight jacket.

Smiling, Ellie turned to greet the next parent coming in the door.

Instead of a parent, however, it was Arnie who wheeled into the multipurpose room, Sheila trotting proudly along beside him. Dressed in a long-sleeved Western-cut shirt with a turquoise bolo tie, Arnie looked every bit the contemporary Indian chief come to take charge. His white shirt set off his sun-burnished complexion, and the squint lines formed a fan at the corners of his eyes.

“Looks like you’re the flower girl passing out roses at a wedding,” he said.

Her eyes flared at his mentioning a wedding, and she struggled to dismiss the comment as meaningless. “As you know, we’re hoping for a sea of red, white and blue to influence the board members.”

“Hope it works.” He patted his chest right over his heart. “Pin away.”

She hesitated. Everyone else had pinned on their own button.

Trying for casual, she handed Arnie the box of pins, took one and bent down to pin it on his shirt. Her face close to his, she caught the hint of mint on his breath and the faint aroma of a woodsy aftershave on his smooth cheeks.

Her fingers trembled as she slid the pin through the fabric of his shirt.

“Careful. I bleed easy.”

She lifted her gaze from the pin to his eyes. Dark. Deep as a mountain pool. Captivating. They immobilized her with their intensity.

She pricked herself. “Ouch!” Stepping back, she sucked on the tip of her finger, tasting blood.

His lips curved up ever so slightly. “Maybe I ought to pin it on myself.”

“Good idea.” A tremor shook her voice, and she licked her lips. She handed him the pin, which he attached to his shirt with ease.