Tiny blessings, p.14
Tiny Blessings, page 14
“Minutes, not hours,” Sophia said.
“I’m already writing things down mentally,” Clara said as she started up the stairs. “You’ve got the hotel to yourselves. Be sure to lock the lobby doors if you don’t want to stand watch behind the check-in desk all night.”
“That sounded just like Mama Lizzy,” Sophia said, “but thanks for the reminder. I bet this place has never been locked up before in all the years it’s been here.”
Clara waved from the top of the steps. “Except for the past few days, when even the night clerk has been given a paid vacation.”
Sophia turned and wrapped her arms around Hunter’s neck. “Darlin’, we’ve got the next couple of days alone. As of right now, I’m going to pretend this is a fancy hotel, that we’re already married, and you’ve rented the whole hotel so that we won’t be disturbed. Neither of us will even have to get dressed.”
“I love you so much.” Hunter tipped up her chin with his fist and kissed her—long, lingering, and passionately.
“Hey, you two,” Clara teased as she carried a small tote bag and her purse down to the lobby, “get a room.”
“We’ve got one,” Hunter said. “Would you please lock the door on your way out?”
“Of course,” Clara said.
When she was gone, Hunter scooped Sophia up like a bride and carried her up the stairs and into their room.
“You don’t even have to close the door,” she whispered.
“What if Clara comes back?” he asked as he laid her on the bed.
“There’s only one key and it’s behind the desk. This is our honeymoon hotel and no one can come inside unless we let them,” she whispered and pulled him down beside her.
Chapter Seven
Clara had no doubt that Trevor would tell her he would support any choice she made where her career was concerned, but it would be nice to talk the whole decision over with him. Trevor loved Mama Lizzy, and he always liked going to the hotel for dinner when they could carve out a few hours every month or two. The two of them would go over all the pros and cons—after they spent some time in bed together, she thought and smiled. The faint scent of Youth Dew perfume lingered with her, like an omen, as she drove from the hotel out to the ranch. She inhaled deeply and thought about how she could personalize that little office. Maybe put up some old pictures of her great-grandparents, who’d built the place, then add some of Mama Lizzy’s folks, and even her favorite one of Sophia that her grandmother had taken last year at Christmas. The legacy would be on the walls to remind her that she was carrying on by doing her part.
So, you’ve basically made your decision? the voice in her head asked.
“I guess I have,” she whispered with a smile as she turned into the lane that led up to the small trailer where Trevor would live until their wedding night. Cowboys were hurrying from one place to another, but she didn’t see Trevor among them. He was probably out plowing a field or doing something with cattle that she could never quite understand.
She parked in front of the trailer, got out of her vehicle, and went inside. Trevor’s dress boots were sitting beside his recliner and his breakfast dishes were in the kitchen sink. She carried her tote bag to the bedroom and dropped it beside the unmade bed. Clara had always been a neat freak, but then, she’d been raised that way. She could hear Mama Lizzy’s voice in her head. Make your bed when you get out of it. Do the dishes as you dirty them. Keep your bathroom spotless. And that was when she was barely four years old.
She straightened the bed, moved on to the bathroom, picked up towels from the floor and took them to the kitchen, tossed them in the washing machine—after moving a load over to the dryer. Then she went to the kitchen and washed up the dishes. When she finished that she sat down in the living area and picked up a ranching magazine from the end table. Not one thing in it interested her, so she turned on the television and surfed through channels until she found one of her favorite old movies just starting, Steel Magnolias. The women in the movie were strong, and even if they were married, they made their own decisions and held on to their independence—just as her grandmother Lizzy had done.
Tears were streaming down her face at the end of the movie. When Trevor poked his head in the door she was sobbing. He hurried to her side, dropped down on his knees, and wrapped her up in a hug. “What’s the matter? Is it your grandmother?”
She pointed at the television. “No, I always cry at the . . .” she hiccupped, “the . . .” she stammered as she tried to get control, “the end of that movie.”
Trevor stood up and handed her a tissue from the box on the end table.
“Can’t help it.” Another hiccup as she wiped her eyes.
“Let’s go up to the ranch house and have some lunch. My mother has made plenty, and good food and company will take your mind off the movie,” Trevor said.
“Let’s make a sandwich here and talk—just the two of us,” she said.
“All of us boys have lunch at the ranch house every day,” he reminded her. “The daughters-in-law join us when they can, but we brothers have always gone home for the noon meal. Then we all have supper in our own houses, except for me.” Trevor extended a hand and pulled her up from the chair. “I still eat with Mama and Daddy at the end of the workday. I’m looking forward to changing that.”
“What’s going on after lunch?” she asked.
“Work, and then supper with the folks,” he answered as he led her toward the door. “But pretty soon we’ll be in our own house, and . . .” he tipped up her chin and kissed her, “I found out what the surprise is. I overheard two of my brothers talking about it, but you have to act surprised.” He took a step toward the door.
“I’m not going with you to lunch,” she said. “I want to hear about the surprise, but I’m going to burst if I don’t tell you what’s happened.”
“Oh, yes, you are.” Trevor tugged on her hand. “Mama will think something is wrong if I don’t show up. This is the way things are done here on the ranch. I’ve told you before that I always eat with my folks.”
Clara pulled her hand free and took her phone from the hip pocket of her jeans, scrolled down, and called her future mother-in-law.
“Hello, Clara,” Donna said. “Trevor isn’t here yet, but I’m expecting him any minute. What can I help you with?”
“I’m at the trailer, and we’re having a sandwich here,” Clara said.
Trevor took the phone from her and said, “She’s jokin’, Mama. We’ll be down there in a few minutes. Don’t wait for me, though. My brothers will string me up if that happens.” He handed the phone back to her. “I do not appreciate that.”
Clara had never seen Trevor angry and she didn’t like it. She put aside her own feelings and said, “We are going to talk right now,” and she went on to tell him about Sophia and Hunter losing their jobs, and about Mama Lizzy’s offer. “We’re going to think about it for a couple of days, but I’m leaning toward saying yes so we can keep the hotel legacy going.”
Trevor let go of her hand and raked his fingers through his hair. “No.”
“No? What do you mean by such a cryptic answer?” Clara asked. “I didn’t ask you for permission. I just wanted us to talk about the pros and cons of me switching jobs. I’m pretty sure I’m going to do it if Sophia agrees.”
Trevor’s expression was set in stone and his mouth barely moved when he said, “Women on this ranch do not work outside. My sisters-in-law all take care of their homes, raise their children, and have things they do to help out here.”
“You’ve known from our first date that I’m not a ranching woman like your sisters-in-law. They all came from that kind of background, but I didn’t, and you know it. I want to be your wife, not a slave to this place.” Her tone sounded chilly in her own ears.
“They consider themselves lucky, not slaves,” he snapped. “Besides, you can’t get along with your sister. Never have been able to, and you’d be miserable working in that hotel with her every day.”
“My job would be five days a week and I would be working the same hours I’m working now, so what difference does it . . .” She clamped a hand over her mouth for a moment. “You are expecting me to quit my job when we have children, aren’t you? Well, honey, I was raised in that hotel and I turned out well enough for you to fall in love with me, so I expect that I can take our kids to work with me until they’re old enough to go to school.”
“No,” he said again. “The surprise is that my folks will up my salary, just like they did all my brothers’ wages, so that you don’t have to work at all. You’ll learn on Sunday that you can give your notice at the bank, and after the wedding you won’t be going to a job anywhere but on the ranch. Mama said she could use some help with the books for a couple of hours every day.”
Clara was stunned. Evidently, she had only thought she knew Trevor. “I have no intention of not working outside. I appreciate your folks’ generous offer, but you and I are partners in this marriage and . . .”
Trevor opened the door. “I thought we were, and that you would be excited. You know my family and how we do things. I haven’t kept anything a secret from you. We want four kids and we want them to be raised on this ranch, not bottled up every day in a hotel.”
Clara propped her hands on her hips and walked outside ahead of him. “Then when they are old enough to walk and get around, you can take care of them while I work. I’m too angry right now to talk about this anymore. My mind is made up about the hotel and I’m not changing it. You go on up to the ranch house and have lunch with your family. I’m going home. Maybe we should have talked all this through before we planned a wedding.”
He followed her out and slammed the screen door. “I thought we had. Are you really going to break up with me over something this small?”
“This is not small, Trevor.” She opened the door to her car and slid in behind the wheel. “It’s huge. You are making decisions for me and trying to control me. I need some breathing space away from you right now.”
“Then, by all means, go get whatever you need,” he snapped, then stormed off the porch, got into his truck, and slung gravel all over the front of the trailer when he spun out.
Chapter Eight
Tears flowed down Clara’s cheeks and she pounded on the steering wheel a few times before she started the engine. She’d never seen anger in Trevor’s eyes, and even if he hadn’t physically abused her, she wasn’t going to live in his world and potentially lose herself. She looked down at her engagement ring and wondered if he would ever place the little band that matched it on her finger. Was this the end of their relationship? When they had both cooled down would he give her an ultimatum—his way or the highway?
She started the engine and drove back to the hotel. By the time she parked, the front of her T-shirt was spotted with teardrops, and they were still coming down like hard rain. She tried to will them to stop, but that didn’t work, so she got out of her car and made her way to the front door, only to find it locked.
Sophia’s car and Hunter’s truck were both parked in the hotel lot, but they wouldn’t hear the doorbell if they were in the courtyard. She wiped her eyes and then turned around and walked around the hotel to the alley in the back. The gate was locked, but she could look through the scroll-work and there was nobody to be seen anywhere.
There seemed to be nothing to do but climb over the fence, so she hooked the toe of her athletic shoe in a space and slowly made her way up. When she flipped over the ornamental top her T-shirt caught on a spike, and she hung there like a rag doll until the T-shirt finally ripped down the front and she fell flat on her back. With the wind knocked out of her, she lay there for several moments, gasping for air. Dust from the concrete flew up around her and then filtered back down to settle on her wet face.
Finally, she was able to sit up and then stand. She pulled up a side of her torn shirt and wiped her eyes, then headed for the dogwood tree that stood right under the balcony to her room. Years ago, when they were teenagers, Sophia had shown her how to climb up the limbs to the balcony, and she figured with the anger that was still boiling inside her, she could do it again. She reached up, grabbed the first limb and, using it like the rung in a jungle gym, swung her body up onto it. Her stomach grumbled, but she assured it that there was food inside the hotel.
The third limb she stepped up on gave way and she had to scramble to get a hold on the next one up. Then it was a matter of hanging there like a monkey at the zoo for several seconds before she could continue the climb.
“Good God!” she heard her sister’s voice above her. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to get inside,” Clara answered between pants. “Help me.”
“Go back down and I’ll open the kitchen door,” Sophia said. “What happened to you?”
“I’m not sure I can,” Clara said.
“Then hang on,” Sophia told her. “I’m coming right down. I’ll help you.”
Clara’s hands had started to sweat. She glanced down and determined that the distance to the ground wasn’t any farther than when she’d fallen off the gate. The main difference would be that she had kind of rolled off the fence; letting go of the limb would mean that she would most likely land on her feet. Which could mean she would break or sprain an ankle.
She tightened her grip until the bark on the tree bit into her palms. “I don’t want to wear a cast or a boot to my wedding.”
What wedding? the voice in her head asked.
That was all it took for her to decide to take her chances with a free fall, but then she heard a scraping sound and saw that Sophia was pushing one of the tables under the low limbs of the dogwood tree. “I’ll climb up and grab you around the waist. Don’t let go until I have a good hold or we’ll both fall.”
“Where’s Hunter?” Clara asked.
“Taking a shower,” Sophia said as she managed to get onto the table and reach up to Clara. “Why didn’t you just call me? I would have unlocked the door for you.”
“Crap!” Clara groaned and felt her sister’s arms lock around her waist.
“Literally? Or just a Sunday school swear word?” Sophia asked. “Let go and we’ll both ease down onto the tabletop until you can catch your breath.”
“Sunday cuss word.” Clara felt as if she was back at the Leadership Program she had taken the first year she worked at the bank. She had never quite mastered the art of trusting someone to catch her when she fell from a platform. “I can’t,” she said above a whisper. “What if we both fall off the table and break our necks?”
“Then I guess Mama Lizzy will push us up the aisle in wheelchairs. We had a double stroller when we were babies. Do you think they make double wheelchairs?” Sophia gave a tug.
Clara’s sweaty hands couldn’t hang on another second no matter how hard she gripped. One second she was swinging; the next, her feet were on the table. Sophia let go of her and she sank down into a sitting position and started to sob. Her sister eased down to sit right beside her and wrapped her arms around Clara’s shoulders.
“You are crying mud, girl,” she scolded. “Hush up and talk to me.”
“Trevor and I . . . we . . .” Clara stammered and mentally relived the argument. “We . . . I might not be . . . he can’t.”
“What’s going on down there?” Hunter asked from the balcony.
“I’m not sure, but I know Clara needs me,” Sophia called back up to him.
“Need my help?” Hunter asked.
Clara shook her head.
Hunter covered a yawn with his hand. “Then I’ll take a nap. Call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks anyway, darlin’.” Sophia smiled at him, but the grin faded when she looked at Clara. “Now, tell me what’s happened. Were you in a car accident? You look like you’ve taken a dirt bath.”
“I climbed over the fence and tore my shirt; then I fell and got the breath knocked out of my body. Someone has got to power wash this courtyard before the wedding. Trevor and I . . .” she wasn’t sure how to begin, “we had a fight.”
Sophia’s hands knotted into fists. “Did he hit you and tear your shirt?”
“No! We just argued,” Clara answered. “I told him about Mama Lizzy’s offer and he said I couldn’t do it. I’m supposed to stay on the ranch, not work outside, and raise kids. I love Trevor, but I’m not that kind of woman. I’m afraid we’ve broken up.”
“If he can’t compromise, you should break up with him, but honey, that man loves you enough that when he thinks about it, he’ll be coming back and wanting to work through the problem,” Sophia told her.
Clara shook her head. “I don’t know about that. He’s pretty upset with me. That surprise I was telling you about is that his folks want to raise his salary to the equivalent of what I make so I can stay home.”
“What on earth would you do all day?” Sophia asked.
A picture popped into her head—making the bed, doing dishes, picking up wet towels. “I guess I’d be waiting on Trevor and then doing some book work for the ranch two or three hours a day.”
“And you said, ‘No, thank you,’ right?” Sophia asked.
“I don’t think I added the thank you,” Clara whispered, and her stomach growled.
“I heard that, and I’m hungry, too,” Sophia said. “Let’s go inside. I’ll make some sandwiches while you take a shower and get cleaned up. Then we can talk some more. But I’m still puzzled about why you didn’t call me.”
“I was so mad, I didn’t even think about it, and my phone was in my hip pocket when I fell on my back, so it might be smashed all to pieces,” Clara replied as she eased off the table and started toward the kitchen door.
Sophia hopped down, beat her to the door, and opened it. “If your phone is ruined, it could be a sign that you don’t need to talk to Trevor for a while.”
Clara pulled the phone from her hip pocket to find the screen was cracked, but it appeared to be working just fine. There was a text from Mama Lizzy saying they’d stopped for lunch on the road and she would send another message when they reached the hotel.
