Charlotte Carter - Big Sky Family

“We could ask the man in the wheelchair to come take care of my horse. He was very nice.”

Ellie swallowed hard. Not a good plan, sweetie.

“Little Miss Chatterbox,” Barbara said, “why don’t you go wash up? It’s almost supper time, and I want to talk with your mother.”

Torie’s slender shoulders slumped. “I know. You want to talk about grown-up things.”

“Go on, Torie,” Ellie said, although she wasn’t eager to pursue the topic her mother no doubt had in mind. “Wash your hands and face, and don’t forget to use soap.”

Skipping and hopping, Torie did as she’d been told.

“I’d better go clean up, too,” Ellie said, eager to avoid any discussion about Arnie.

“I do hope you won’t be taking up with that young man again.”

Ellie bristled. “No worries on that score, Mother. I doubt that he’d be interested.” Her actions eight years ago had shut that door permanently. Actions her mother had advised and encouraged.

“Just as well,” Barbara sniffed.

After Arnie’s accident, Ellie’s mother had encouraged Ellie to move away from Arnie. Barbara’s brother, Bob, had been born with cerebral palsy and was severely handicapped. Watching a loved one suffer pain and humiliation haunted Barbara. She didn’t want her daughter to endure the same difficult experience.

To her shame and regret, her mother’s constant concern about Arnie’s future had added to Ellie’s ultimate decision to leave Potter Creek and move to Spokane.

The first of a long litany of mistakes she’d made that had changed her life.

With the Lord’s help, she’d turned her life around. But that didn’t mean that a proud man like Arnie would ever be able to forgive her for turning her back on him.

Early Saturday morning, a gang of volunteer construction workers showed up at the O’Brien ranch. Most of the guys were from Potter Creek Community Church. As the half-dozen pickups pulled to a stop, Arnie rolled out to meet them.

“I’ve got a big pot of coffee ready,” he announced. “And Daniel went into town early for fresh doughnuts. Help yourselves.”

Like a pack of ravenous chowhounds, the men gathered around the coffeepot on what would someday be Arnie’s back porch. Their wives and girlfriends would show up around noontime with picnic baskets full of lunch makings. Building his new house was like an old-fashioned barn raising, and he was grateful for every bit of help he got.

Since Daniel had announced he was going to marry Mindy, Arnie had planned to move out of the old ranch house and into his own home. Now that Mindy was expecting, providing his brother and his wife some extra space was even more important.

Given the cost of construction, bringing the plan to fruition would have been impossible without the help of his friends. In fact, half the community had lent a hand in one way or another.

Coffee and doughnut in hand, Tim Johnson, a licensed contractor and good friend, sauntered over to Arnie. “We’re gonna start putting up the exterior plywood sheathing today. If that goes well, next week we could be adding the siding.”

“That’s terrific, Tim. You know how much I appreciate your help. All the guys’ help.”

“No problem. If the situation was reversed, you’d be there for us.”

“I’d sure try to be.” But Arnie knew he’d never have a chance to return the favor, at least not in the same way.

“I got my chimney guy to say he’d come next week so we can get the flashings in before the siding goes up. He’s giving you a good price.”

“Thanks, Tim. I appreciate it.” One of the lessons he’d learned after the accident was that he’d never be as independent as he had been before. For some things, he’d have to rely on others. That had been a hard truth to swallow, and it still didn’t go down real smoothly.

Daniel came striding across the distance from the barn, a tool belt around his waist. Apparently he had finished mucking out the horse stalls and was ready to go to work on the house.

“Hey, you guys,” Daniel said to the men still hanging around the coffeepot. “You can’t stand around drinking coffee and eatin’ doughnuts all day. We gotta get this house sealed up tight before the first snow flies.”

“Yeah, yeah. We know, Danny boy.”

“Hey, who made you the boss?”

Amid a lot of friendly joshing and gently barbed comments, the men set to work. Guys grunted as they lifted heavy loads of plywood. Hammers banged nails home. Orders were shouted out. Power saws whined.

The heat of the day rose. Sweat darkened the back of the men’s shirts and dripped from their chins.

Arnie wheeled his chair up the temporary ramp into his living room and looked around. His pride, his gratitude, were tempered by the knowledge that he’d never share this house with someone who could be his partner in making it a home.

A sense of betrayal rose bitter in his throat.

Ellie!

Even knowing she’d done the right thing to leave him, he couldn’t quite accept that the woman who had cried at his bedside and held his hand for five solid days after the accident had actually walked out of his life. She hadn’t stayed to fight for their love.

Now she was back.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

The white steeple soared above Potter Creek Community Church, glistening in the morning sunlight, a beacon of hope and a promise of the Lord’s love.

Holding her daughter’s hand, Ellie followed the path to the building that housed Sunday school classrooms. She’d grown up attending this church, and now her daughter would enjoy the same experience.

Somewhere between her sixteenth birthday, when she decided her friends were far more fun to be with than attending church, and her surprise pregnancy at age twenty-one, Ellie had lost her faith. Or, more accurately, she had simply ignored the teachings of the Lord.

Nothing like realizing you were going to be a single parent to drag a woman back into the folds of the church. That and praying for forgiveness of her sins.

“Will I know anybody in my Sunday school class?” Wearing a summery dress and her shiny Mary Jane shoes, Torie stretched her little legs in order to step over the cracks in the sidewalk. “We’ll have to see, honey.”

Ellie introduced herself and Torie to the teacher. In less than two minutes, Torie was playing with the other children in the class.

Kissing her daughter goodbye, she went in search of her mother, who was saving her a seat.

Off to the side of the main entrance a group of churchgoers had gathered around a table. The banner on the wall behind the table read Support Paralympics.

Ellie’s steps slowed. Her mouth dried. As though she had no control over her own feet, they angled her directly toward the table and the person she instinctively knew would be sitting there.

As she drew closer, the two men who had been blocking her view stepped aside. Arnie spotted her the moment the men moved away. His dark eyes flared momentarily before he could shutter them and coax his expression into one of disinterest. His short-sleeved sport shirt revealed the deeply tanned column of his neck and his muscular arms.

“Looks like you’re all dressed up for church,” he said.

Ellie’s tongue swept across her dry lips. “Yes. I just left Torie in the child-care room.”

“I didn’t know you ever went to church.”

“I don’t remember you as a regular churchgoer, either.”

“Good point. Having a near-death experience forces a guy to take a look at his life, make some changes.”

“Having a baby out of wedlock does the same thing.” She cringed, wondering what Arnie would think of her. Wondering if he would condemn her for sleeping with a man outside the sanctity of marriage.