Brenda Mott - Ranch At River's End

“Hi, Aunt Stella. Where’s Chris?”

“Doing his homework in the den. How was your first day?” Then she noticed the butterfly clamps and frowned, taking hold of Darci and steering her toward the window, where she could see the wound better. “Lands sakes, what happened to you?”

Darci shrugged sheepishly. “I fainted. It’s no big deal. I’m fine.”

“Fainted? What happened? Here, sit down and put your feet up. Want something to drink?”

“Aunt Stella, I’m fine, really.” But Darci obliged her aunt, kicking off her heels and propping her feet on a kitchen chair. She twisted the cap off the Diet Coke Stella set in front of her and took a long swig.

Her aunt demanded all the details, and Darci was halfway through her story when Christopher came out of the den and headed for the fridge.

She turned to face her thirteen-year-old son, who was nearly as tall as she was. He needed a haircut. His shaggy brown mop, the ends dyed black, hung in his eyes. Green eyes like his father’s. The man who’d left them a year ago without looking back.

“Pull up your jeans,” Darci said. Normally, she would’ve let Chris’s sagging pants hang beneath his boxers without comment. Pick your battles, Darci. Their former counselor’s advice. But today she was in no mood to be conciliatory.

“They won’t stay anyway.”

“That’s what your belt is for.

He grinned. “You actually fainted at work? Bet that went over big—passing out in the E.R.”

“Hey, it’s not funny.” Then Darci softened. “Okay, maybe a little. I was pretty embarrassed.” Especially when she’d had to undergo Jordan’s ministrations.

“Don’t eat too much,” Stella scolded as Chris rummaged around for a snack. “I’ve got a pot of chili cooking.”

“You didn’t have to cook for us,” Darci said.

“No big deal, kid. I figured you’d be tuckered, and Leon went to a lodge meeting so it was just gonna be me and a TV dinner. Now I’m doubly glad I threw something together, seeing as how you’re the walking wounded.” She nudged her niece’s knee affectionately as she passed by the chair where Darci had propped her legs.

“I love your chili, so I’m not going to protest too much,” Darci said. Stella used three kinds of beans, plus lots of chopped celery, onions and garlic.

Chris turned from the fridge with an apple and a wedge of cheese. “Save some of that for the chili.” She indicated the cheddar. “You getting your homework done?”

He wrinkled his nose as he sliced off a chunk of cheese on the cutting board Stella had been using. “We have to write a report for environmental studies on how we can be green at school. I’m about three pages short of the required four.”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something,” Darci said, glad to see he was actually settling back into public school after homeschooling for the final semester of last year. “Do you like your teachers so far?”

He shrugged. “They’re okay. Oh, yeah, that reminds me.” Stuffing the cheese into his mouth, he dragged his backpack off a chair. “There’s a parent-teacher thing coming up.” He rummaged in his pack and handed her the flyer. “Do we have to go?”

“Well, if it’s parent-teacher, I don’t see why you should have to…oh, wait,” Darci said. “They’re having an open house. And the skate park behind the school will be open, too. Says there’ll be plenty of adult supervision. You should go, Chris. It’ll be fun.”

“Oh, Mom.” He slumped as if she’d shot him with a poison dart. “I don’t need to go to the skate park with a bunch of teacher’s aides watching my every move.”

“Come on, Christopher,” Stella said. “Listen to your mom. If you don’t want to take your skateboard, at least you can see what the school looks like at night…show your mom your locker, visit with your friends.”

“Trust me,” he said, “I don’t have any friends.”

“Well, then this will be a good way to make some.” Stella stirred the pot of chili. “I always thought it was fun to be at school at nighttime.”

“You’re going,” Darci said, remembering her earlier resolve to stop coddling him.

“Fine. I’ll be in the den doing my slave work if anyone needs me.”

Stella chuckled once he’d gone. “Kids. They make everything so dramatic.”

Then she sobered, as if remembering just how dramatic things had gotten back at North Star Middle School in Northglenn.

DARCI THANKED AUNT STELLA for the chili, and for watching Chris, then hurried out to the car after him. It had begun to rain harder now, quarter-sized drops pattering down in cold splashes against her skin as she rushed toward her red Chevy Cavalier.

Christopher sat in the front seat, listening to his iPod. It was one of the privileges he’d recently earned back for good behavior. Darci shoved the container of leftovers Aunt Stella had sent with them into his lap before sliding behind the wheel. The windshield wipers swished out a steady rhythm as she drove, making her way down the county road and on through town. She hadn’t gone more than the few blocks that made up the downtown area, when she spotted a familiar figure at the side of the road.

Jordan Drake stood next to a black Ford Explorer, examining a flat rear tire.

Oh, dear. Should she stop? Or did he have things under control?

Darci glanced in her rearview mirror and saw him kick the flat in frustration, then head back toward the driver’s door. No spare? She supposed he could walk to the gas station, but it wasn’t in her to ignore someone in need of help, and besides, who wanted to walk in the rain?

Beside her, Christopher paid no attention to the fact that Darci had slowed the car. His head nodded to the beat of what was likely Southern-country-rock—his favorite. She turned into the parking lot of a church, flipped a U-turn and headed back out onto Main Street.

Christopher frowned, pulling off one earbud. “Hey, where are you going, Mom?”

“To help someone,” she said.

“Huh?” He yanked out the other earbud. “But I want to get home and watch TV.” His favorite reality show was coming on, another privilege he’d regained.

“Chris, we can’t leave someone stranded at the side of the road.”

“But you’re always telling me it’s not smart to stop for strangers.”

“He’s not a stranger. I work with him—well, sort of.” She wrinkled her nose, remembering the way Jordan’s hands had felt as he’d tended to her head injury.

“Whatever.” Chris rolled his eyes and bounced back against the seat.

Suddenly, Darci remembered seeing a similar black SUV parked down the street from her and Chris’s place, in front of the blue split-level. The one with a neatly landscaped front yard she envied, and a couple of acres behind it. At least, it looked like the same SUV, with an Honor Student bumper sticker.

Darci pulled up beside the Ford and rolled down her window.

“Hi,” she said. “Need some help?”

Jordan looked sheepish. “Thanks, we’re fine.”

Darci noted he had a little girl—his daughter?—with him. The kid was cute, with long, light brown hair and big blue eyes.

“You don’t look fine,” Darci said.

He shrugged. “I picked up a nail—” he gestured toward the flat “—and, uh, apparently I didn’t maintain my spare tire very well. It’s low on air.” He glared at his cell phone. “And I’m not getting a signal in this spot for whatever reason.”

“Mountains,” Darci said, pointing to the surrounding peaks. “My service comes and goes in the oddest places.”

“Reception’s normally pretty good here.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s the weather.”