Tessa laughed and stood up, lifting Becca down off the wall. “It’s the twenty-ninth. How late are you?”
Joann swallowed hard. “Not much, not really… Oh, hell…”
“Looks like we need to add an EPT kit to the shopping list.”
“It’s not funny,” Joann wailed. “I don’t even keep track anymore. What’s Gus going to say?” She blew her bangs back off her forehead. “I’m thirty three years old. I’m too old for another baby. Maybe it’s early menopause?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tessa scolded. “You’re way too young to be starting menopause. I think you’re pregnant. It’s something I can sense. You know, like calling to like.” She pointed down at her bulging stomach. “And if you are pregnant, you’ll be thrilled as soon as you get used to the idea. You know Gus has always wanted a little girl.”
Becca had been taking it all in. Standing on tiptoe she reached up and patted Tessa’s stomach. “I want a little girl, too.”
“Our baby’s a boy,” Tessa explained patiently for what Nate guessed must be the hundredth time, while Joann fumbled through her coat pocket for a tissue.
“Jack will trade me for it,” she pronounced, nodding so hard her pigtails bounced up and down. “You’ll trade us babies won’t you A’nt Joann.”
“I’m not having a—” Joann stopped in midsentence. Looking past Nate’s left shoulder she said, “Hello, Sarah.”
“Hi, Joann. Tessa, hello.” Sarah was making her way carefully toward them. She wasn’t wearing the neck brace anymore, although Nate wished she would when she walked on the uneven ground around the barn, but didn’t say so. Sarah had made it clear enough over the last week that she wasn’t going to play the invalid any longer than necessary.
“Hi, Sarah.”
“Hi,” Becca piped up. “Matty’s in the barn.”
“Is he? I’ll have to go get him. I’ve been missing him.” She slid her hands into the pockets of her lightweight cotton jacket and smiled tentatively at Joann and Tessa. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
“No, of course not. We were just checking to see if Nate needed anything from Wal-Mart. We’re on our way there for a last minute trick-or-treat run.”
“Do you have enough candy, Nate?” Sarah asked him. “I’d be happy to contribute some if Tessa and Joann could pick it up for me.”
“I’ve got plenty. We’re too far off the beaten track up here to get more than a few trick-or-treaters.”
“Just turn off your porch light if you run out,” Tessa suggested. “That’s pretty much the universal signal for ‘no candy.’”
“Got that, Sarah? Blackout conditions are to be put into effect when you run out of ammunition,” Nate said with a grin. “I’m taking Matty out in his Shrek costume and Sarah’s staying here to hold down the fort.”
“I’m perfectly capable of taking Matty trick-or-treating.”
“You might miss your footing in the dark,” Tessa said. “You wouldn’t want to take a tumble.”
“That’s why she’s staying here and passing out candy.” Nate heard his old sergeant’s voice coming out of his mouth but he didn’t care.
Sarah didn’t challenge him as he half expected her to. Instead she changed the subject. “I want to thank you both for watching over Matty these last two weeks. I appreciate it very much.”
“We’re glad to help out,” Joann said. “I’ll go get the boys. We should be on our way.” She hurried toward the workshop door without a backward glance.
“We really do need to be heading out,” Tessa said to explain her sister’s abrupt departure. “I want to stop and ask Grandpa if he needs anything on the way, and Ty has a spelling test to study for.”
“Of course,” Sarah said with another smile, but Nate could see Joann’s coolness bothered her.
Thirty seconds later the boys came charging out of the barn followed by Matty and Nate’s sister. “See, I told you she was right here,” Joann said, giving him a little push forward.
“Mama.” He wrapped both arms around Sarah’s leg and held her tight. “I’m home.”
“I see that. I missed you.” She hugged him back.
“I got a new hat,” he said, leaning back so that she could admire the ball cap. “Jack gave it to me.”
“I like it.”
“We’ll see you Saturday,” Tessa called over her shoulder. “We’ll be over early to sweep the barn and set up the tables.”
“Gus and his students will be here around three to unload the trebuchet,” Joann reminded him. “I hope the rain holds off until after dark.”
“It will,” Nate said under his breath so that only Sarah could hear. “There isn’t a rain cloud in this state that would dare unload on one of my sisters’ parties.”
“I’ve never heard of a trebuchet,” Sarah said as they watched Tessa back the van around and head back down the hill to Harm’s place. “What is it and what does it have to do with Halloween?”
“Absolutely nothing to do with Halloween. It’s a medieval war machine. Kind of a cross between a catapult and a sling shot.” Nate held open the door of the low-ceilinged workshop for her and Matty.
“Is that what they’re called? They used them in the battle of Helm’s Deep in The Two Towers,” Sarah said, with a grin. “I watched it the other day.” She rested her left elbow on her right hand and made a flinging motion. “The bad guys were lobbing severed heads over the wall.”
“The severed head lobbing was in The Return of the King. The bad guys were using catapults. The good guys were flinging back huge pieces of stone. And they were using trebuchets.”
“I’ll have to watch the whole thing again to get it straight in my head. Did your sisters get the idea for the pumpkin smashing party from the movies?”
“I don’t think so. It’s been going on since Gus’s science club built the darn thing and they needed ammunition that was cheap and that wouldn’t cause fatal injuries. Joann suggested jack-o’-lanterns after she read about some place back east that does it every year with intact pumpkins, and the rest is Riley’s Cove history.”
“Sounds like fun. Your sisters are good at things like that. I remember the Fourth of July celebration when you were home on leave the summer after we were married. Toasted marshmallows, hot dogs and potato salad, homemade ice cream—the whole nine yards. And the fireworks were great. I’d never been to a party like that before.” There wasn’t a trace of self-pity in her voice, no bitterness for her hand-to-mouth childhood.
“I imagine this one will measure up.”
“This is your first?” she asked, as she made her way to the half-finished cycle. She moved carefully, he noticed, her right leg dragging slightly, an indication of how tired she still must be even after her nap.
“Yep.” He picked up a shop rag and squatted down to clean up an oil spill from the concrete floor. He didn’t want her or Matty to take a tumble here, or anyplace else. “Last year I was in the hospital having the pins taken out of my ankle and before that, I was in Iraq. I got some of the artillery guys in the unit to e-mail Gus pointers on range and elevation, though, and they got a kick out of the pictures Joann sent back. Evidently a well-built trebuchet can get a lot of splat out of a past-its-prime jack-o’-lantern.” He stood up and grabbed a handful of wrenches and screwdrivers he’d left lying on the tool bench.
“Would you prefer Matty and I not come down here for the party?” she asked quietly.
He dropped the tools in a drawer and shut it before turning around. Sarah had her back to him, looking down at the Indian, her fingers tracing the elegant curve of the chrome handlebars.
“Why would you think that?”
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