At Home in Dry Creek

Barbara realized she might never have a real home with the people of Dry Creek, but she had no question that she had a family with Judd. When she had tracked Judd down, she was desperate for help. She didn’t even know Judd back then, but she had no other family and she’d never lived anywhere long enough to make real friends.

The separation from Neal hadn’t been going well. After she’d finally found the courage to leave him, she suspected he would try to find her, and hurt her and she didn’t want the children to be with her if that happened. Barbara needed someone to care for the children while she made the trip to find them a shelter.

Barbara knew it was not love that had made Neal angry when she’d told him she was going to divorce him. No, he might not want her to divorce him, but he didn’t love her. Neal hadn’t just cheated on her once or twice. He’d made it a habit. Barbara hadn’t known about the robberies he’d been involved in until later, but she had faced the fact that something in Neal had changed dramatically over the years.

Barbara was only twenty-nine years old, but the day she’d left Neal she’d felt like an old woman. It was as if she’d lived an eternity, and nothing had turned out the way she had hoped it would.

It was odd that it wasn’t until she finally found the courage to leave Neal that she found the closest thing to a family that she’d ever had. Judd had invited Barbara and her children to stay with him indefinitely.

Barbara figured it was his new-found religion that made Judd so eager to help them, but she didn’t think it was a good thing for him to do. Family did have limits. And life wasn’t lived in a church. She hadn’t had much experience with God, but she had wondered sometimes if God even knew what went on in the world. He certainly had never paid any attention to what went on in her world.

No, Judd and his new wife wouldn’t find life as simple as they thought it would be. Marriage never was. Barbara knew all of the things that could go wrong with a marriage and she didn’t want to be responsible for any of them happening to Judd.

That’s why, now that he was getting married, Barbara had moved off Judd’s ranch and into the small town of Dry Creek. Lizette had offered the room at the back of her dance studio as a temporary home for Barbara and the children until they found something more permanent. There weren’t any houses for rent in Dry Creek right now, so Barbara knew she’d have to wait. Not that there would be any houses for rent soon.

The only house that wasn’t occupied was the old Gossett house, and Mr. Gossett was in prison. Mrs. Hargrove wrote to him regularly, and in her last letter she’d asked him if he’d be willing to rent the house. He wrote back saying he was thinking of giving the house to his nephew, but he’d find out if his nephew was interested in renting it out to her.

Even if the Gossett house did become available, it would take a lot of repairs before anyone could live in it.

In the meantime, the room in the back of Lizette’s dance studio had become the resting place for Barbara and her children. The room wasn’t large, but it was bigger than most of the hotel rooms where they’d lived for periods of time over the past few years. Lizette had lived in the back room of her studio before she got married, and there was a kitchen and a bathroom attached to it. It would be fine.

There wasn’t much furniture in the studio’s back room and Barbara had vowed that, now that she and the children weren’t moving so much, she would replace that old folding table with a solid kitchen table, the kind of table children needed for family meals and homework.

They might not have a home yet, but they’d have a table. It was a start.

And, for now, the back room was convenient for Barbara since she was temporarily working in the fledgling bakery that Lizette had started in the front part of the building. Barbara knew she’d eventually need to get a job that was more solid, but she was grateful for the bakery job. It was helping her gain some job experience and it was early-morning work so she was done by the time the school bus came through Dry Creek to drop the children off after school.

Barbara ordinarily kept a close eye on her children, but she was checking them even more frequently of late. She’d had these funny feelings the past few days that someone was watching her and the children through the storefront windows. Whenever she looked up, however, she didn’t see anyone on the street outside the window, so she was probably being foolish.

Besides, even if someone was looking in the window, it didn’t mean anything was wrong. People looked in storefront windows all the time, she reminded herself.

Maybe it was just hard for her to get used to their new home, Barbara told herself. It had bigger windows than most places she had stayed. She wasn’t used to so much openness.

At least Lizette had hung good, thick curtains on the windows in the back room. There was no chance anyone could look through those windows when Barbara and the children were sleeping.

Barbara shook herself. Now, why was she worrying about this when she was here to celebrate a wedding? Dry Creek wasn’t the kind of place where people went around looking into the private windows of other people. They might be very interested in her and the children, but no one would actually spy on them.

There must just be a draft in that old bakery building and a tingle of cold air must blow through now and again and hit her on the back of the neck, she decided. That must be what that tingling sensation was all about.

Or, she thought to herself, maybe the tingling had just been her nerves reminding her of the upcoming wedding. She’d certainly had reason enough to dread the event.

But now that the wedding was over, the nervousness would stop and that would be it. She could get on with earning the acceptance of the people of Dry Creek.

It was too bad that she couldn’t begin with the sheriff. Of all of the people there, he suddenly looked like he would be the hardest to win over.

Chapter Four

The wedding reception was still going strong. Laughter and chatter filled the old barn. Barbara watched the sheriff while she sat in a folding chair beside where the children were playing.

The sheriff seemed to be intercepting anyone who was walking toward Barbara. One would think she had a big C for “criminal” branded on her forehead. The sheriff took one man by the arm and pointed him in a different direction. He whispered something in the ear of another. She couldn’t imagine why he cared if the ranch hands talked to her. They certainly didn’t have anything she could steal.

Well, no matter what his reasons were for keeping people away from her, today was supposed to be a happy day and Barbara was determined to keep looking happy even if she had to change her view to do so.

Since no one was going to talk to her inside the building with the sheriff blocking the way, Barbara decided to go outside. Barbara looked down at the bridal bouquet she still held. Was it just her, or did the flowers look a little wilted?

Sheriff Wall watched Barbara walk back over to Mrs. Hargrove and say something before heading toward the barn door and going outside. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t need to follow Barbara everywhere, but if anyone was going to make contact with her, they would do it at some event like this. Strangers stood out in Dry Creek on an ordinary day, but tonight a dozen strangers could wander around and no one would pay much attention to them as long as they held a plastic cup filled with Mrs. Hargrove’s special raspberry punch.

Of course, he wasn’t worried about Barbara seeking to contact her ex-husband’s criminal partners. The sheriff had talked with her enough in the hospital and then later in Dry Creek to know she wasn’t likely to turn to crime. She’d seen first-hand what crime did to a person, and she knew it wasn’t good.

But that didn’t mean Barbara might not unwittingly receive a message from her ex-husband and not realize what it meant. She’d said she hadn’t heard from him, but she might be hoping for some message anyway. After all, the two of them had been married for a long time and had children together. They probably still had business to settle between them.

Yeah, the sheriff told himself, he’d better go outside and stand in the dark with her just to be on hand if anyone came up to her with a message. It could be something as simple as “look in the tool chest for the key to the safety deposit box” or “dig up grandma’s favorite rosebush and see what you find.”

The sheriff wished again that he had some of Pete’s charm with women. At least Pete could go out and stand there without looking like a fool with nothing to say.

Barbara took a deep breath the minute she stepped outside. She looked around and was relieved no one else was close by. It did look as though someone was sitting in one of the pickups parked by the barn, but that was the only sign of life. Most of the cars were over by the church. The moon was out, but it was still dark enough that she couldn’t see much beyond the vehicles.

Whoever was in the pickup seemed to be taking a nap, so Barbara felt alone enough to relax.

After living through a cold winter here, she knew she’d never get tired of Montana spring nights. They were such a relief after the snow. It was a warm March, and the sounds from inside the barn were muted enough that she could almost hear the sounds of the outside. Now that spring was here, there was no snow to muffle the night sounds. She heard the sound of a coyote off in the distance. And a dog barking closer to town.

Someone had lined up some folding chairs along the side of the barn, and Barbara stepped over to them and sat down. She set the bouquet down on the chair next to her and slid her shoes halfway off her feet. She wasn’t used to wearing high heels any more and they pinched. Barbara leaned back in the chair. Now she almost felt good enough to smile for real.

She heard the sound of a pickup door being opened. Apparently, the man was finished with his nap.

Right then, the door to the barn opened and light spilled out into the darkness.

“Trouble?” Barbara asked when she looked up and saw the sheriff. She’d given it some thought and had almost decided that the reason the sheriff had been frowning so much was because he had official business somewhere. Maybe his mood had nothing to do with her. Maybe she’d just grown so distrustful of men that she saw betrayal and censure everywhere she looked.

Yes, that must be it, Barbara told herself in relief. Someone must be in trouble and the sheriff was passing the word along to others who could help. The sheriff seemed always to be working. Even though he was wearing a regular black suit and not his uniform tonight, he was probably still on duty. She supposed a lot of his social evenings were interrupted like this.

“Trouble? No,” the sheriff said as he let the door close behind him. He stood still for a moment. “Unless you’ve seen something?”

Barbara refused to be disappointed that the sheriff wasn’t worried about someone else. “Me? What would I see?”

“Oh, you never know when someone sees something out of the ordinary.” The sheriff walked over to the folding chairs where Barbara sat and stretched out on the chair closest to the barn door. It was six chairs away from Barbara.

“No, nothing out of the ordinary here.”

Maybe the sheriff was just worried from habit, Barbara decided. She was glad she had nothing to worry him further. She had noticed that whoever was getting out of the pickup had changed his mind and settled back into the seat. But there was nothing unusual about one of the men around here deciding to take a bit longer with his nap. A lot of them worked hard and were tired. The only thing that was unusual lately was that strange tingling sensation she’d had at the back of her neck. “Has anybody thought of getting a big streetlight around here?”

“A streetlight? We only have the one street.”

“I know, but it’s a very dark street—especially at night.”

“People like it that way. If they get a streetlight, they worry they won’t be able to see the stars.”

“It could be a small light.”