“But you think it looks promising?”
“The worst-case scenario is ninety days. You’re about two-thirds done with it. It could take a couple of weeks to get a hearing. So, we’re not asking for much—we’re only asking to shorten this temporary-custody ruling by a little bit. Hope for the best. From my point of view, you’re making a very reasonable request. You’ve carried out the judge’s wishes to the letter. Nothing says proper job like a pastor’s assistant.”
“Or pastor’s lover?” she asked, looking down.
“Well, I’m not going to bring that up. It’s not relevant. Okay? Now, is there anything else you should tell me?”
Ellie shrugged and said, “No matter what names he calls them, the one that hurts the most is bastards. I don’t want them called that. That’s my fault, not theirs.”
“Ellie, you have to be stronger than name-calling. You gave them life. You can rise above a dirty word.”
“I know,” she said. “I manage to rise above a lot of things. That one’s extra hard. I’m so happy I have them. So sorry there’s anything missing from their lives.”
From Brie’s office, Ellie headed over to Vanni’s to play Mommy’s helper. Her new friend looked much better than she had when Ellie began this special assistance. Vanni appeared rested and the house was holding up. In what seemed no time at all, it was a whole new scene. Rather than Mommy’s helper, she was Mommy’s friend. They worked together to tidy the house, caught up on the laundry and got an early start on dinner.
While they each sat at a separate end of the sofa with a load of clean baby clothes to fold between them, they talked. “I haven’t held Hannah enough since she first arrived here. I avoided holding her and, when I did, I don’t think my heart was in it. Do you think that’s going to be a lasting harm to her?”
“I don’t really know much about that sort of thing, but my gramma used to always say, ‘Children will tell you what they need if you just pay attention.’ Hannah isn’t even cranky. The only time she cries, she’s tired or dirty or hungry or…reaching for you. If you’re a little better about things now, you can cuddle more, catch her up. I mean, think about it, Vanni—sometimes mommies are too tired, don’t feel good, even get sick and go to the hospital. Sometimes they have to work more than one job.”
“I’m afraid she’ll never forget, on some subconscious level, that I was cold to her. I’m still not sure I’m committed…”
“I know what you mean. I always worried about that, too.”
“About what? Being cold toward your kids?” Vanni asked.
“I wasn’t cold, but I was never able to give them enough. I was wrung out. I mean, I had my gramma to watch the kids and I knew she was giving them tons of love. But they need their mother, right? And I worked day and night. By the time I could be with my kids, I was worn out and I just didn’t have anything left. I’ve always wondered if they suffered because of that. But if you knew them…” She smiled wistfully. “They’re so amazing. I probably owe it all to my gramma.”
Vanni shook out a onesie and folded it. “You’re pretty amazing,” Vanni said. “And I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”
“I’m just having one of those emotional days,” she said. “I don’t have them too often, thank God.” But she’d been threatened by her husband, loved by her man, encouraged by her lawyer, depended on by a good friend. And it wasn’t even noon.
By September in the mountains, the weather was beginning to cool. Fishing was good, hunting was around the corner and the bar was pretty full at dinnertime. Jack greeted a man he’d never seen before. He gave the bar a wipe and said, “Welcome. How you doing?”
“Great, thanks. Nice place you got here.”
“We’re proud of it,” Jack said. “Passing through?”
“More or less. How about a cola? That too much trouble?”
“Not at all, my friend. I’m Jack.”
“And I’m Arnold. Pleased to meet you.”
While Jack served up a cola, he noticed that Arnold took a slow look around the bar, taking it in. There were a few couples in the place, three senior ladies occupied one spot near the window, and a couple of tables were pushed together to accommodate Mel, Brie, Paige and the small children, with Mike Valenzuela, Brie’s husband the town cop, sitting at the end. Some fishermen played cribbage and shared a pitcher at one end of the bar and at the other end, a solitary man nursed a drink. Arnold was almost turned around on his stool when Walt Booth and Muriel St. Claire came in. Walt, a powerful-looking man with silver hair and black eyebrows, came up to the bar next to Arnold while Muriel wandered over to the table of women. Patrons greeted them both. “Hey, Walt! Hi, Muriel!”
Arnold turned his attention back to the front of the bar and Jack saw him smile. Arnold picked up his cola.
Jack looked at Walt. “Beer, General?”
“Thanks. And a Chardonnay for Muriel. And a takeout from the kitchen, but no hurry on that. When you have a minute.”
“You got it,” Jack said. And then he was busy at the other end of the bar, producing another pitcher.
Jack noticed Hope McCrea as she came into the bar wearing her standard uniform of big clown glasses, muddy rubber boots and what looked like a trench coat that had seen better days. She sat beside Walt and tapped the counter for her whiskey. Right behind her, Dan Brady arrived wearing his Shady Brady.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, Brady,” Hope said.
“I’ve been working on that old house night and day, trying to get it right so it can be sold.”
“Oh, yeah? And then what?”
“I’ll find another place,” he said with a shrug. “General,” Dan greeted, leaning around Hope. “How’re things?”
“Never better, son. Thanks for asking.”
Jack made a quick trip to the kitchen to put in the general’s order and was back at the bar quickly. “How you doing, Hope?” he said as he served up the old woman’s whiskey. And, “Brady? You avoiding me?”
The man said, “A little bit of you goes a long way.” Jack laughed at him.
Then Jack asked Arnold, “Can I interest you in some dinner? Some outstanding corned beef and cabbage tonight with boiled potatoes and apple pie. The apple crop has been great this year.”
“That might be nice, thanks. I’ll think about it a minute. And what do you know about the church next door?”
“Been boarded up for years,” Jack told him. “But we got us a new pastor and he’s fixing up the church. Presbyterian. Should be open for business in another month or so. It’s been a long time since we’ve had church in this town. Way before my time, that’s for sure.”
“Ah. Pastor’s name?” Arnold asked.
“Noah Kincaid. You from around here?”
“Not so far away. Thing is, I’m sure that’s the church where my wife took a job.”
Everyone at the bar seemed to go silent at once. Then finally Jack asked, “Wife?”
“Ellie. Have you seen her around?”
Jack knew only two things about Ellie. She seemed like a nice, genuine girl. And he knew she had difficult custody issues that concerned Noah, but Jack didn’t know the particulars. And there was one more thing—for no particular reason, he didn’t like this man who said he was her husband. Jack said, “Nice young woman, Ellie. I was under the impression she was unmarried.”
Arnold laughed. “Yeah, I suppose that would be her story, that she’s not married. She has a long history of that kind of thing, good at stories, my Ellie. She’s married and a mother, and the judge gave me the kids. What does that tell you?”
“That someone’s not telling the whole truth,” Jack said, and his jaw twitched. He was a bartender. He didn’t very often read people wrong.
“Well, there you go. I wondered if maybe someone should warn the minister about her. You know, before he gets in too deep. Gets in trouble with the town or his higher-ups because of her.”
The silence was deafening. Everyone was listening except the fishermen at the end of the bar, and they were concentrating on their cribbage game.
Jack probably knew Ellie the best of everyone present, but others apparently had their own strong opinions about her. Ellie had been helping Walt’s daughter, Vanni, with the babies, and Walt appreciated that. Hope and Dan had met Ellie several times, and Ellie made them laugh. Mel turned in her seat to stare at the man; Jack knew Mel got a kick out of Ellie and liked her, too. By now Brie actually stood up to listen to the exchange. Jack thought Ellie and Brie had met at least once in the bar; possibly Ellie had taken her issues to Brie for legal advice. The look on his little sister’s face was venomous. The three little old ladies by the fire? They were all ears, and their legs almost twitched with the desire to bolt to their phones. And then Mike slowly got up from his table and went behind the bar to stand beside Jack.
“And why would Noah have problems?” Jack asked evenly.
Arnold laughed lightly and shook his head. “She’s using him and the job to get out of trouble. Penance. Ellie worked in a strip joint. She was hooking. She’s a whore. Selling her body and who knows what else. I kicked her out when I figured out what she was doing.” He sipped his cola. “I’m divorcing her, of course, but for now I just have to keep the kids away from her. Who knows what all she’s into.”
The door to the bar opened with a ripple of friendly male laughter, and Noah and his friend George walked in. Without looking at his watch, Jack knew it was time for Lucy’s dinner and knew she was leashed out on the porch. Noah and George said a few hellos, and didn’t seem to notice that it was morgue quiet in the bar as they grabbed a couple of stools. Noah said, “Hi, Jack,” and George said, “My God, something from the kitchen smells incredible.”
Noah slowly became aware of the unusual silence that surrounded him and after looking around a little, he spotted Arnold. And, Jack noticed, Arnold smiled and narrowed his eyes.
“What a coincidence,” Jack said. “This man here was just explaining, in great detail, why he should warn you off that nice girl Ellie, who’s been painting the church and helping Vanni with the babies. Noah, this is—”
“I know who he is,” Noah said with deadly calm. “What are you doing here?”
“Checking out this town,” he said with an air of innocence. “Seeing where Ellie got her job.”
“And making sure everyone in the bar heard him accuse her of some very unsavory things,” a female voice said from behind them. It was Brie, and she looked furious. “Untrue things, by the way.”
“Is that so?” Arnold said with a laugh. “You married to her? You live with her? I’m telling you, the girl knows how to put on a real good show. You’ll believe what she wants you to believe. I have personal knowledge.”
“You’re not married to her, Mr. Gunterson,” Brie said easily. “You should probably go now, before you dig your hole any deeper.”
And with a voice as smooth as silk, a half smile on his lips, he faced Brie down and said, “And just who do you think you are, ordering me out?”
Jack’s hand came down on the bar hard, clamping over Arnold’s wrist, and he glared into the man’s eyes. Jack’s eyes glittered. Jack hated this kind of cheap, sissy maneuver—trashing the girl to the town behind her back. He might not know exactly what was going on, but he knew this guy was wrong and Ellie was an okay kid. All he was lacking were the facts. “That’s my little sister, asshole. And your fifteen minutes of fame are up. You’re leaving.”
Arnold started to laugh meanly. “Jesus, is she fucking all of you?”
Noah’s stool scraped back and fell, he stood so abruptly. As if choreographed, as slick as a football play, Dan stopped Noah from mixing it up with Arnold, Walt grabbed Arnold’s upper arm and held him firmly, while Jack and Mike came around the bar to escort him out.
Unfortunately, before they could remove him, the door opened and Ellie stood there. She saw Arnold and shock was etched on her features. “Arnie? What are you doing here? Where are the kids?”
“I just thought I should pay a visit, make sure your minister here, and your new friends, knew that they were cozying up to a prostitute. A stripper, a druggie, a whore.”
“What?” she said, stunned. “What on earth?”
Arnold just laughed. “Your stories are just getting worse and worse, Ellie. You shouldn’t have lied to all these good people.”
“But that’s not true, you know that’s not true. Arnie, who’s watching the kids?”
“I have them handled,” he said. “No thanks to you.”
“That’s all,” Jack said, gripping one arm while Mike grabbed the other. “You’re all done here.” They walked him out of the bar and down the porch steps. “Just in case you’re wondering, you shouldn’t show your face around here again,” Jack said. “It could be bad for you.”
“Are you threatening me?” Arnold asked.
“Nah,” Mike said. “Promising.”
In the bar, Ellie looked around and found all eyes on her. Panic immediately set in—would they believe what Arnie had told them? Brie said, “Ellie, come here. Right now.” Brie grabbed her hand, and with Ellie in tow, immediately bolted for the kitchen phone to call the police. “This is just a hunch, but from what you told me about Arnold’s isolationism, the kids might have been left alone, unsupervised. What’s the address?”
Ellie gasped. She put her hand over her open mouth.
“Ellie? The address?” Brie asked.
Ellie recited it and Brie reported the children as abandoned. She requested that the police check the house. “They’re four and eight,” Brie told the dispatcher. “I’m Brie Valenzuela, a friend of their mother’s.”