The Single Dad's Guarded Heart

A little girl with a mop of brown curls and weepy hazel eyes held a soft-bodied doll in one arm as if her life depended on it. She scrubbed her cheeks with her free hand but didn’t venture out of the SUV.

Marlee turned to the men. In an undertone she said, “Maybe if you went back inside to wait… I explained about her crying jags and temper tantrums, didn’t I? They started after Cole died and escalated through my tug-of-war with Rose. I’m hoping…” Marlee raked a hand through her tawny gold hair as her eyes begged her brother’s understanding.

“No problem, sis. We’ll take your luggage. Mrs. Gibson swabbed out the largest of the cabins for you. Or if you’d rather sleep in the main house until your furniture arrives, your old room’s made up. It has twin beds if you want Jo Beth to share.”

Marlee waved a hand toward the Ford. “What you see is our life in a nutshell.”

Pappy peered in the windows of the SUV. “That old broad stole your house, furniture and everything?”

She corrected his misimpression. “Cole and I rented a furnished condo because we were rarely home. As soon as I got pregnant, we decided to buy a house.” Marlee looked pained. “Pappy, it was during house hunting that I noticed Cole seemed tired. Finally, after weeks of tests, he was diagnosed.”

She would have let it go, but her grandfather said, “So, where did Cole’s mother get off trying to take your kid away from you?”

“Didn’t Mick tell you?” Her glance darted to her brother, then back to Pappy Jack. “Right after Jo Beth was born and I went off desk duty, I got orders to ship out. That’s when we let the apartment go and moved in with Rose. At the time we didn’t know how else to manage, what with a new baby and Cole undergoing treatments. We…just, uh, counted on the treatments working.” She sighed and fiddled with Jo Beth’s cap of curls.

“Don’t sweat it,” Mick said, ruffling his shorter, sun-lightened hair. “The cabin has the basics. We can add stuff as you figure out what’s missing. If you open up the back, Pappy and I can haul in your suitcases.”

Nodding, Marlee retrieved her keys. “Maybe we’ll sleep in the house until Jo Beth gets more comfortable. Set the two small bags in my old room, okay? Everything else can go to the cabin.” She couldn’t help but notice Mick’s prominent limp even before he picked up the suitcases. That gave Marlee pause. He’d told her he was fine now.

It took the better part of forty minutes to convince Jo Beth that she needed to go inside.

“Sis, I have freight to pick up in Kalispell for an early-morning delivery,” Mick announced. “And I’ve got an appointment, so I’ll be gone a couple of hours. Settle in, and if you feel up to it after dinner, I’ll show you around the office. You can take over where I left off billing. I’m warning you, I haven’t done any paperwork in months.”

“Filing’s time-consuming nonsense,” Pappy snorted. “All you need to keep the IRS guys happy is a record of income versus outgo. Most years, the latter tops the former,” he said, sounding more savvy than her brother let Marlee believe.

“Frankly, Mick, I’m anxious to start. I want to earn my keep. I hope you don’t object to Jo Beth playing with her toys in the office while I work.”

“Why would I? Mom raised us out there until we were old enough to tag after Dad and Pappy.”

A smile blossomed, the first genuine smile she’d felt in weeks. But then she watched Mick walk toward the Piper Arrow. She wasn’t mistaken; he favored his left leg. Maybe his old injury was affected by weather. The ground here looked as if it’d rained not long ago.

She took Jo Beth by the hand. “Pappy, while Mick’s gone, I’ll unpack a few boxes and suitcases and find storage space in the cabin. I want to dig out Jo Beth’s toys so she’ll feel at home. Care to tag along?”

“Nope. I let myself get involved in one of those silly afternoon soaps. You and the little squeak just come on back to the house whenever the spirit moves you.”

Marlee laughed. Pappy used to call her little squeak, too. Being home felt good. Natural, as though she hadn’t grown up and been left to deal with grown-up matters. If anybody deserved to kick back in the afternoon with TV it was Pappy. He’d worked from dawn to dusk for most of his life.

Already in a better frame of mind, Marlee struck out for the cabin. She’d forgotten the rustic charm of the knotty pine walls and cedar plank floors. Mick hadn’t been kidding. The cabin was basic, all right, boasting only the bare essentials. But Marlee didn’t want a lot of memories hanging around. It was better to leave them with Rose, who’d made one room of her home into a shrine for her husband, and a second for Cole.

Time passed as she unpacked. Before she knew it, two hours had disappeared. Now the cabin had a few personal touches, making it hers and Jo Beth’s. Collecting toys for her daughter, Marlee put them in a tote. Together she and Jo Beth wandered back to the main house.

Pappy appeared to be engrossed in another program, so Marlee set Jo Beth up near the couch, and emptied the tote onto a worn braided rug.

“Do they have a dining room, Mama? I’m hungry,” Jo Beth said suddenly.

“Me, too,” growled Pappy Jack. “I hope you can cook, girl.” Shutting off the TV, he leveled a hopeful glance at Marlee.

Since they’d come in, he’d been rocking contentedly in a scarred rocker Marlee knew had belonged to his dad. She remembered every square inch of this house, while Jo Beth had only ever lived in Rose Stein’s decorator-designed show home. What a contrast.

“Pappy, I wish I could say I was a great cook. I picked up some tips from my mother-in-law, but whenever I was at the house, it…just seemed easier to let her cook. It was, after all, her home.”

“Maybe you shoulda brought her. Mick says I put stuff on to cook, then go off and let it burn. Hell, he’s a fine one to talk. Half the time he gets to tinkering with engines and can’t remember it’s time to eat.”

Jo Beth looked up from arranging her Polly Pocket hairdresser and fashion model sets. “Mama, that man said a bad word.”

Marlee had Rose Stein to thank for Jo Beth’s prissy attitude, too. The woman had been married to an admiral, but even before his passing she’d insisted the profanity prevalent among military personnel not invade her home. Cole rarely slipped. Marlee often did and got taken to task by Rose. Jo Beth mimicked her grandmother.

Rather than take issue now, Marlee redirected the conversation to what she should fix for supper. Another difference for her daughter—in Rose’s home they dined.

But she needed to shut off her mind. Preparing a meal seemed a good outlet. She found steak thawing in the fridge, and fresh corn in the vegetable keeper. There were baking potatoes in a bin that had always been in the pantry. Just as she patted herself on the back for remembering, the wall phone rang.

“That’s the business line,” Pappy said, glancing up. “Mick says taking orders is gonna be your job. You might as well answer it and get your feet wet, twin.”

Marlee reached for the receiver and smiled. Another thing Pappy used to do—call one of them by their given name and the other twin. Sometimes he used boy or girl. “Hello,” she said, her voice reflecting the remnant of her smile. The caller mumbled that he must have dialed incorrectly.

“Wait—you’ve…reached Cloud Chasers.” She grabbed a pen and hunted for paper. “You’re Wylie Ames?” Marlee’s eyes sought Pappy’s, but he was watching TV again. “I’m sorry to have to ask if you’re an old account of Mick’s or a new customer. Mick? Oh, he’s gone to Kalispell. I expect him back anytime. Who am I? His sister.” She stopped short of adding isn’t any of your concern. Not a good idea to annoy a customer her first day on the job, the man was curt to the point of rudeness.

Her smile turned into a frown when it became apparent the guy didn’t trust her to deliver a message. Tersely, he said, “I have a generator on the fritz. The parts house in Kalispell promised to have my order ready for Mick by the middle of next week.” He sounded even more ill-tempered when Marlee asked if Mick knew where to deliver the goods, and snapped “Yes.” He clicked off without saying goodbye. Glaring at the receiver, Marlee banged it back into its cradle.

“Disagreeable jerk,” she muttered as her brother walked into the house, his limp more pronounced. There were fatigue lines around his mouth Marlee didn’t recall seeing earlier.

“Who’s disagreeable?” Mick shrugged out of a battered brown flyer’s jacket. Marlee remembered fondly when he’d saved up to buy it, or one just like it.

“A customer by the name of Wylie Ames.” She rattled off the reason for his call.

Mick took the message she’d scribbled on a corner of a brown grocery bag. “Wylie’s a good guy. He’s a forest ranger who lives year-round on a remote station on the Glacier Park perimeter. He’s the only official presence in thirty square miles.”

Marlene wrinkled her nose. “He could do with some manners.” Turning, she slid the potatoes in the oven and began to shuck corn.

Pappy had stirred when Mick entered. Stifling a yawn, he said, “You probably wanna steer clear of Ames, girl. Old-timers up-region say his wife disappeared in the dead of night. Just like that.” Pappy tried to snap his gnarled fingers.

Looking up from peeling corn silk, Marlee’s mouth sagged. “You mean people think he—” She broke off and cast a worried frown toward Jo Beth.

Mick hobbled to the couch, sat and picked up one of the child’s plastic dolls, turning it in his big hands. “Don’t pay Pappy any mind,” he said. “Those are crazy rumors, sis. You know how folks in the back country love to gossip. With each repeat, their bear stories get fiercer and fish tales bigger. Wylie’s a good man raising his son alone. Dean is a few years older than Jo Beth. So, you said Wylie expects his stuff when?”

Her mind shifted from Pappy’s warning. “Next Wednesday, he thinks, or Thursday. He said you could call Morrison’s parts house if you don’t hear by Thursday morning.” She found the griddle for cooking steaks and plugged it in.

Pappy Jack faced Mick. “What did the doc have to say about your hip?”

Marlee’s ears perked up.

“Same old, same old, Pappy. Hey, isn’t it good to see Marlee fixing us some decent food for a change?”

Pappy spiked a bushy brow. “Same old, how? You mean the bone doc still wants you in ASAP to replace that socket.”

“Mick? You need more surgery?” Alarmed, Marlee straightened and anxiously twisted the top button on her blouse.

Her brother pursed his lips. He took his time arranging Jo Beth’s doll in a tiny chair. He even clamped a bonnet hair dryer from the toy set over the doll’s head.