Authors: Kate Vale
The dog whined and offered a paw. She opened the door for
Sam
to go out.
Suzanna was still struggling with her thoughts when the phone rang its tinny uncertain ring.
“Hello, Mom?”
“Kevin.”
“I have news.” His voice vibrated with excitement.
“What?”
“I proposed to Ronnie.” He laughed out loud. “And she said ‘yes.’ When are you coming home? She wants to meet you—to help with the wedding.”
“Oh! That’s wonderful. Yes, I want to meet her. I can hardly wait to see you all.” She laughed.
“When are you coming home?” he asked again.
“Soon. In fact, I was getting ready to leave. When I’m on the road and I can get cell phone reception, I’ll call you.”
“Sounds good. I can’t wait for you to meet Ronnie.”
“I want that, too. I’ve always wanted a second daughter.”
Would Ronnie be a kinder, gentler version, a bit less brusque, than Penny?
“Okay. I’ll wait for your call. Love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, Kevin. This is such great news.”
Her son had proposed, and he wanted her to come home to meet Veronica, to meet her family, to help plan the wedding. She sat down at the little kitchen table and gripped a mug of hot tea. “That settles it, Sam. We’re going home.” She would pack and leave.
If
she
still f
elt as she did
now,
she’d
come back after the wedding.
She pushed her chair back, relieved that Kevin’s news had helped her decide.
When she rose the next morning, she placed the last of her belongings in the Jeep. She was about ready to pull out when she remembered her grandmother’s quilt,
her one link to her old life,
still on the bed. She ran back to get it and glanced one final time
at the mountain
view she loved. The peaks
were
becoming obscured by clouds that likely held rain or snow. Most of the trees were turning yellow and gold, adding brilliant color to the nearby hills.
She debated about going to the main house to tell Nate she was leaving, but he would ask questions. She couldn’t face him.
She called Emma. “My son is getting married and I have to go home to help with that.”
“Oh. A Christmas wedding?”
“He didn’t say exactly, but there are so many things to do.”
Can she tell I just can’t say goodbye in person?
“Well, I hope you have a good trip. I’ll see you when you come back.”
“Thanks, Emma. I’ll write you.”
She sat down and wrote a
quick note
after disconnecting the phone she had used so infrequently.
Dear Jonathan—I know I’m a coward for not waiting until you get back, but the weather tells me I need to leave—before snow makes driving difficult. Thank you for letting me rent the cabin this past summer. It was just the soothing balm I needed. Kevin is getting married and I have to take care of things at home.
I shall never forget my time here, or the ranch, or the wonderful people I met. Especially you.
Love, Suzanna
PS I’m thinking of coming back next summer. Could you reserve the cabin for me?
After propping the note on the dresser in the bedroom, she straightened the mirror that always
slid crookedly to one side
. She called to Sam, put him in the back seat, and drove away,
determined
not to look back. Less than a mile up the road, she stopped the Jeep and burst into tea
rs.
I think I’m making a big mistake.
S
he sobbed when
she hugged the dog.
When she pulled back onto the road, she turned north
, away from Willow Grove
.
She
reached the outskirts of Bozeman
and
stopped to fill up with gas before heading east. If the weather turned nasty, she could always turn south when she got to Billings. Maybe this winter wouldn’t be as long and cold as last year’s. She was headed home, toward what she used to think of as home, but her heart rebelled, no matter the reasons she kept repeating to herself.
A
m I doing the right thing? I should have stayed to say good-bye—but if
I had
, could I have left?
She stopped for the night in a tiny town in Wyoming, too tired to
drive
any further.
Where was Jonathan—still in New York?
Suzanna
found her cell phone and plugged it in just long enough to send two quick messages to Kevin and Penny. She turned off the phone then tucked the plug and the phone back into her suitcase so she wouldn’t forget it.
The next day, she drove until she was exhausted from fighting the fierce side winds that buffeted the vehicle. The next day more than six inches of ice-encrusted snow greeted her. She stayed where she was for another day, hoping for sun and warming temps.
The second morning in the motel, the sun came out and she left after taking Sam for an extra-long walk. She managed to reach Des Moines that evening and looked for a motel with a hot tub, eager to soak her aching muscles.
Sam was whining at her when she woke the next morning.
“I must have slept in. Sorry, Sam. Just give me a minute.” She dressed quickly, took him out for a quick constitutional and returned to the room to pack her bags.
“You’re not going to like this,”
Nate
declar
ed
when Jonathan returned later that week.
“Why is that? Did one of the beef orders
get screwed up
?” He
pulled
his clothes out of his suitcase, tossing
his
shirts
in a basket
.
“
Curly took care of everything, like usual
.”
Nate
paused then asked,
“Did you happen to stop by the post office on your way home
from the airport
?”
“Why would I do that?
I f
igured Caleb would get the mail, like he usually does,
unless Abby gave it to Suzanna to bring home.” He looked up at
Nate
. “Something’s
on your mind
. Spit it out
.” H
e sat down to pull off his dress shoes in favor of
his well-worn
boots.
“Suzanna’s gone.”
Nate
grabbed the basket of dirty clothes and
headed for the door.
“What do you mean
,
gone?” Jonathan
sat, one shoe on, one shoe off, and stared at Nate’s back
.
“She left. The Jeep’s not there anymore
. H
er garden’s all covered over with leaves, and there’s no sign of the dog.”
Jonathan
pulled on his second boot
. “She said she
might go
home for
a while
. Did she say when she’s coming back?” He grabbed his
fur-lined jack
et.
“No note, no phone call. Caleb poked his head in the front door and
he said the
furniture was all covered up. And she disconnected the phone.”
Why didn’t she say good-bye?
“
Did someone say something to her?”
Maris, maybe?
“Not that I know of.”
Jonathan went out to the barn, saddled up the Appaloosa, and headed for the cabin.
He knew without opening the door that
she was gone
. The
place
looked forlorn. One
kitchen
curtain
drooped wetly
out
of
the half-open window, caught on the edge of the rough-hewn cedar shakes. He pulled it in
side
and shut the window.
H
e wandered into the bedroom. On the floor next to the little table near the bed was one of her Chinese hair sticks. He put it in his pocket and spied
a
note, propped
on the dresser
. After reading it, he crumpled up the paper and threw it into the fireplace, swearing under his breath.
“Take a couple of the boys and bring back all the furniture that’s down there
,” he growled at Nate when he returned to the main house
.
“
Then call the phone company and
have them
take down that extra line.” He offered no other explanation for what he had found
before he went into his office, closed the door and punched the phone.
“Is this Kevin Wallace?”
“Yes.
Who’
s this?”
“Jonathan Kingsley.”
“Oh, hi, Mr. Kingsley.”
He opened and closed a fist.
Stay calm.
“
I was wondering if
your mother told you when to expect her home.
I’ve been out of town, and
I wanted to talk with her
.”
“Uh, no. I haven’t heard from her
since I called. With the news.”
“News?” Something bad?
“I’m getting married.” Kevin’s voice carried a smile.
Jonathan relaxed.
Oh. Right. She mentioned that.
“Congratulations. When’s the wedding?”
“This summer. Mom said she was coming home, but I don’t know when she left. Want me to have her call you when she gets here?”
“Yes. I’d like that.”
“Is something w
rong, Jonathan? You don’t sound…
your voice
,
it sounds different.”
“
I’m fine, just a little cough—from the dry air in the plane.”
Not fine at all with your mother gone.
How
could he
reassure Kevin
? Touching the hair stick,
he added,
“Your mother forgot something here and I’d like to check with her about it.”
Like why she didn’t say good-bye.
“
You
could
e
mail
her
.”
“Good idea.
What’s
her
address?”
Kevin gave
it to him, along with Suzanna’s home
phone number.
“I don’t know if she still has that old cell phone.”
“I got the impression she didn’t like using it.”
Kevin chuckled. “Do you have that number?”
“No. Please give it to me.” Jonathan wrote it down.
“
By the way, is there any news about that internship we talked about?”
“Nothing yet, but Jam
ie
said he was working on it when I saw him last week.
These things take time. I’ll let you know as soon as he gets back to me—or he may contact you directly.
It was great talking with you, Kevin.” Jonathan hung up and immediately
dialed Suzanna’s cell phone
.
It didn’t even give him an opportunity to leave a message.
Had she thrown it away?
Twenty-four hours later, Jonathan
tried
her home number.
He listened to a man’s voice on
the answering machine
.
Must be her husband. I wonder where she is.
“Suzanna, it’s Jonathan. Could you call me when you get this message?” Before he hung up, he added, “It’s important.”
That evening,
Jonathan paced
in his office
.
I might as well bite the bullet and try Penelope
.
Maybe she’ll take pity on me if I ask nicely.
He dialed
the
number
Kevin had given him
.
“Leave a message.” Her answering message was as curt as she was.
He chose not to. The next day, he dialed it again with the same result. The third time
he tried
, she answered.
“Hello?”
“Is that you,
Penelope
?”
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“Jonathan Kingsley.” He held his breath.
She was silent a long minute.
Ice dripping from every word, she asked,
“What do you want?”
Be polite,
remain
calm.
“I was hoping you would know
how
I might reach your mot
her
.”