Читать книгу Big Sky Family - Charlotte Carter - Страница 8

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.

His brows lifted slowly but not in condemnation.

“No husband?”

She held herself very still. “Turned out he wasn’t interested in being a daddy.” Or a husband, for that matter. Foolishly, she’d given herself too easily to a man who couldn’t or wouldn’t cherish her.

A small V formed between his brows. “Torie’s a cute kid. He’s missing something special.”

She smiled, and some of the tension that had kept her nerves as taut as a piano wire eased. “I think so, too.”

“So do you want to be one of my sponsors?” He shoved a glossy brochure across the table to her. “I’m trying to raise a couple of thousand dollars for the Bozeman Paralympics organization. We’re hosting a marathon race in a couple of weeks, and I’ve entered the wheelchair division. I want them to start a Western riding event. You know, cow cutting and trail riding. Events like that. The money will help them do that.”

“Sure, I’ll sponsor you. Vanna said something about you working with the Paralympics group.”

“A couple of years ago some guys in the organization dragged me to Bridger Bowl outside of Bozeman and took me skiing.” He handed her a pledge form.

“Skiing? How could you—”

“I’m on a wheelchair basketball team, too. We won the regionals last year.” He lifted his chin, challenging her to question him.

“Congratulations.” Her admiration for all he had overcome kicked up a notch.

“Paralympics is like Ability Counts Preschool. It’s not your disabilities that matter, only your abilities.”

She heard chastisement in his voice and knew she deserved the rebuke. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he stopped her.

“The prelude’s started. We better get inside.” He put some paperweights on the stack of brochures and pledge forms. “You can bring that back to me after church, if you’re still interested.”

“Of course.”

He wheeled out from behind the table and gestured for her to precede him inside, a gentlemanly courtesy. She stepped in front of him, fully aware that he was right behind her. His eyes were on her, his unseen gaze raising her temperature, sending a rush of heat to her face and a wave of guilt to her conscience. Her hand shaking slightly, she took a program from the greeter at the door.

Why on earth had she walked right up to his table? She’d vowed to steer clear of the man. With a firm grip on the church program, she promised she wouldn’t forget again.

She spotted her mother in a pew halfway down the first aisle and slid in beside her.

“Did you have problems with Torie?” Barbara whispered.

“No, she’s fine.”

“What took you so long?”

“I, uh, stopped to talk with someone I knew,” Ellie hedged.

“Oh, that’s nice, dear.”

Pastor Redmond, who looked to be in his fifties, stepped out onto the stage and raised his arms, asking the congregation to rise for the first hymn.

Fumbling for the hymnal, Ellie dropped her program and the pledge form Arnie had given her. Barbara bent to pick them up.

The organist played the first few bars of “Just a Closer Walk with Thee;” then the congregation and choir joined in.

Barbara nudged Ellie with her elbow and handed her back the pledge form. “With a daughter to raise, I didn’t imagine you had extra money to give away. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to get involved with him again.”

Ellie’s face flamed hot. Her jaw clenched, and she put the pledge form on the pew beside her.

Other than being a paraplegic, there was nothing wrong with Arnie O’Brien. He was trying to support a worthwhile organization, a worthwhile cause.

In Ellie’s view, that made him more able-bodied and worthwhile than the good-time Charlie who had impregnated her and then deserted her, leaving her to raise their child alone. She should have steered clear of Jake Radigan.

Just as she should stay clear of Arnie now, but for a far different reason.

Before his accident, Arnie O’Brien would never have deserted a woman or his child. That nobility, that sense of responsibility, hadn’t changed simply because he was confined to a wheelchair.

She believed that with all of her heart.

In contrast, Ellie had walked away from the man she’d loved. Scarcely the action of a noble woman. Rather the foolish action of a nineteen-year-old girl.

Propelled by her anger at her mother, and maybe at her own mindless decisions, Ellie scribbled in a larger pledge amount for the Paralympics than she could strictly afford and wrote a check on the spot.

After the church service ended, she ducked out the side door while her mother waited to speak to the minister. She hurried to retrieve Torie from her classroom and returned to find Arnie back at his table, raking in more pledges from his friends.

“Look, Mommy. Arnie’s here!” Breaking away from Ellie, Torie beelined it across the patio to Arnie’s table. Instead of stopping in front of the table, she squeezed in behind it, next to Arnie.

Sheila stood, backing away from her spot next to Arnie to avoid being stepped on by Torie. Arnie leaned back in his chair, equally startled by child’s sudden arrival. “Hey, squirt. What’s up?”

“I want to ask you an im-por-tant question.”

He glanced toward Ellie, his lips twitching with the threat of a smile. “Sure, ask away.”

Torie’s face scrunched into its most serious expression. “If my mommy bought me a horse of my very, very own, would you come take care of it for me?”

Ellie choked. “Victoria James! You’re not supposed to—”

“I don’t know, squirt,” Arnie said with equal seriousness. “That would be a big job to take care of a horse.”

“I know, and I’m too little. I get a dollar a week allowance. I could pay you that much.”

By now those standing around Arnie’s table were fully engaged in the conversation, to Ellie’s mortification.

“High time you earned an honest dollar, Arnie,” a man said.

“Isn’t she cute?” a woman said. “I bet when she’s a teenager, her father will have to guard the door and lock the windows to keep the boys out.”

Ellie had heard enough. “Come on, Torie. We have to find Grandma.”

“But Arnie hasn’t said he’ll take care of my horse yet.”

“You don’t have a horse, so why don’t we worry about who’s going to take care of it if and when you have one?” With an apologetic smile, she handed the pledge form and check to Arnie.

He glanced at the form and the check, then looked up at Ellie. “Preschool teachers must earn more than I realized.”

“No such luck, but a guilty conscience can make a person feel generous.”

“No need for you to feel guilty.”

That was nice of him to say, but she knew it was a lie.

He held up the check. “Don’t you want to hold off on this in case I don’t actually finish the race?”

“You’ll finish. I don’t doubt that for a moment.” She took Torie’s hand. “Tell Arnie goodbye, honey. Grandma’s waiting for us.”

With her daughter in tow, Ellie hurried toward the parking lot. Having such an outgoing child had its disadvantages.

A muscle pulsed in Arnie’s jaw as he watched Ellie and her daughter scurry away. His hands grasped the armrests of his chair, turning his knuckles white.

He had to get a grip on his volatile emotions—a boiling mix of anger, longing and grief—whenever Ellie showed up.

In eight long years he still hadn’t figured out how to do that.