A Promise Kept (26 page)

“Can you believe Dad’s doing this?” Meredith asked as she and Allison stared toward the far end of the arena.

Tony was there with two other men on the ground. Chet was on horseback. Someone had given Tony a bright red shirt to wear. The rest of the team wore the same color. Tony was the only team member without a cowboy hat and western boots, and it made him stand out from the others.

“No, I can’t believe it.”

The Tony she’d known in college, the Tony she’d fallen in love with, would have done this kind of thing in a heartbeat. He’d been competitive by nature. Not so much the Tony of recent memories.

Out of the bucking chute came a solid black range cow. The animal’s eyes were wide and frightened. Snot flew from its nostrils when it shook its head.

“Look at those horns,” Meredith said.

Allison was looking. The cow looked as if it could do real damage with them. Her gaze darted to the end of the arena again in time to see Chet spur his horse into action, galloping toward the cow, rope swinging over his head.

Meredith shot to her feet as the rope sailed forward and over the cow’s neck. “He’s got her!”

The three muggers on the ground raced to the cow. One grabbed it by the horns, twisting its head. Another got it by the tail. Somehow Tony had ended up with the bottle. Had the men
thought the rookie would have an easier time milking the cow than holding it still?

“Come on, Dad!”

“You can do it, Tony!”

As if he’d heard them, he glanced in their direction. Not more than a second or two—the event was timed and the clock was ticking—but long enough for Allison to see his grin. He was enjoying this. A lot.

The cow bellowed and fought. The muggers in front and behind were pulled this way and that. Chet tried to help by keeping the rope taut. Tony went for an udder. The cow twisted toward him, knocking him off his feet.

Allison and Meredith continued to scream words of encouragement, but their voices became part of the cacophony of the crowd. Everyone was shouting now. All the spectators were on their feet.

Tony was up again, attempting to grab an udder for the second time. The cow twisted and kicked and bucked and hopped. With his hatless head close to the cow’s left back leg, his hands under her belly, Tony somehow stayed with the cow for a few seconds. Then he was knocked onto his backside a second time. But he held the bottle above him, as if protecting something of great worth.

The shouts of the crowd grew louder as he scrambled to his feet and raced toward the judge.

“He did it, Mom! He did it! Yea, Dad!”

Tony didn’t lose any teeth in the wild cow milking, but he did return to the house wearing what looked like half the dirt from the arena, along with a small trophy for being on the winning team. Allison’s stomach hurt from laughing so much and her throat was raw from the yelling she’d done from the stands.

“Ladies,” Tony said as they entered the house, “I’m headed for the shower. If I’m not out of the bathroom in an hour, come rescue me. It means all this dirt I’m toting turned to mud and I’m stuck in it.”

Feeling gritty herself, Allison went to her own bathroom to wash it away. By the time she finished showering and returned to the living room, Tony was downstairs and Meredith was taking her turn in the upstairs bathroom.

“Are you hungry?” Allison flopped onto the sofa.

“Too tired to be hungry,” he answered from a nearby chair.

“Me too.”

“I’ve got to admit. That’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Crazy, but still fun.”

Allison smiled. “You looked good out there.” She closed her eyes, wondering if she might fall asleep mid-sentence.

“Allie?”

“Hmm.”

“You saved my life.”

She opened her eyes again.

“I know you think your tough love failed to do what it was supposed to, since I kept on drinking and we ended up divorced. But it didn’t fail. If you hadn’t stuck to your guns, if I hadn’t been forced out on my own, I don’t think I would have made it to this year.”

“Tony,” she said softly.

“So thanks. That’s all. Just thanks.”

She felt dangerously close to tears.

“Hey, Mom.”

Allison straightened and looked toward the top of the stairs where Meredith stood, wrapped in a bathrobe, a towel on her head. “What, honey?”

“My blow dryer stopped working. Got one I can borrow?”

“Sure.” Allison rose from the sofa, glad for a reason to leave the room so she could get her emotions in check. “I’ll bring it right up.”

“Thanks.”

Allison hurried from the living room, through her bedroom, and into the master bathroom. She paused and leaned the heels of her hands on the counter while staring at her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed. From a day spent in the sun at the rodeo grounds or from something else? She didn’t know. She felt off balance. Tony’s words of thanks shouldn’t have affected her so profoundly, but they did. She didn’t care to look closer to discover the reason why.

Allison

September in Idaho was a glorious time of year, and no place was more so, in Allison’s opinion, than the Stanley Basin.

They set up two tents—one for Allison, Meredith, and Gizmo; one for Tony—in a small campground overlooking Redfish Lake at the base of the Sawtooth Mountain Range. At sixty-five hundred feet above sea level, the nights were cold so they’d brought plenty of warm clothes. But it was pleasant enough in the daytime to need nothing more than a light sweater or a flannel shirt.

As soon as their camp was ready, they got on their bikes, Gizmo riding in the basket behind Allison’s seat, and set off on a gently rolling trail that, the ranger told them, was six miles long, round trip, and had no more than a few hundred feet of change in elevation. It sounded like the perfect kind of ride for their first afternoon. And it was. They all had cameras, and no one seemed to mind when one of them wanted to stop to snap a photograph of a uniquely shaped tree or the sunshine shimmering on the surface of the lake or the rugged mountain peaks rising above them or a chipmunk scolding from a tree branch or a deer crossing the path ahead of them. But all those stops meant it took them better than an hour to complete the six-mile trail.

Once back at their campsite, Tony built a fire in the pit and Allison and Meredith got a start on dinner—grilled hamburgers on buns with all the fixings and homemade potato salad.

The threesome sat in low chairs around the campfire while
they ate. Gizmo tucked himself under Allison’s chair and slept. No one talked much, except to say how good the food was. What was it about camping that made everything taste better than at home?

After swallowing her last bite of potato salad, Meredith said, “I’ve missed this.”

“Me too,” her dad answered.

Allison looked at Tony. Firelight flickered on his face as dusk settled around them. His voice echoed in her mind:
“I know you think your tough love failed to do what it was supposed to, since I kept on drinking and we ended up divorced. But it didn’t fail.”
A year ago she’d been angry at God for not saving her marriage. She’d been angry at Tony for not pulling himself up by his bootstraps and putting things right, angry because her dreams hadn’t all come true. But it appeared God had been focused on saving Tony’s life first. Saving it and then changing it.

Thank You, God. I’m glad Tony didn’t die. I’m glad You saved him, both body and soul, even if it took ending our marriage to do it. I have a new life too, but I’m thankful he and I can be friends. You did that, Lord. You made it possible. Thank You for drawing Meredith and her dad close again. I’m glad she can be with and love her father. He’s different now, yet he’s still Tony. That’s got to be Your doing, Lord
.

The man of her prayers turned his head to look in her direction. “It’s cooling off fast. Want your coat?”

Allison nodded.

“Me too, Dad.”

He stood. “Be right back.”

Meredith yawned. “I’ll be turning in early. This alpine air is making me sleepy.”

“How about s’mores before you go to bed?”

“You bet.” Meredith sat up straight, looking alert again. “I’m always up for s’mores.”

Allison laughed, pleasant memories washing over her of camping trips when their daughter was little. Of course, some of those trips had been spoiled by Tony’s drinking, but the unpleasantness of
those
memories seemed to have faded.

“Here you go.” Tony stood between Allison and Meredith, holding a coat in each hand.

Allison took hers and slipped her arms into the sleeves, thankful for the added layer as the evening temperature dipped. Then she pushed up from her chair. “We’re going to make s’mores.”

From the wooden box where they kept the food that didn’t need a cooler—a sturdy container even small forest creatures couldn’t gnaw through—she withdrew a box of graham crackers, a package of marshmallows, and a Giant Hershey’s Milk Chocolate bar. Three wire hangers had been straightened into roasting utensils. She grabbed them too, along with paper plates.

Soon each of them was warming a marshmallow over the fire. Per tradition, everyone’s goal was to get their marshmallow a golden brown on all sides. Conversation ceased as they concentrated on creating a
perfect
roasted marshmallow.

“Look out, Dad. Yours is about to drop.”

Tony didn’t heed the warning in time. As he tried to bring the wire upright, his marshmallow fell into the fire.

Meredith held her right hand to her forehead, making an L with her thumb and index finger, and her dad gave her arm a good-natured push. Then he took another marshmallow from the bag and started the roasting all over again.

Allison smiled to herself, treasuring the moment in her heart.

Emma

1932

The cat and her four kittens were in a blanket-lined crate in the back of the general store.

“What do you think, Miss Carter?” the proprietor asked. “Can we talk you into taking one of them home?”

Emma picked up the orange-colored tabby and brought it close to her cheek. “Aren’t you precious?”

“Make a good mouser. Always good to have a cat to keep down the rodent population around a place. ’Specially the barn.”

Emma glanced over her shoulder at Mr. Johnson. “Are they old enough to leave their mother?”

“Yep. They’re eatin’ and drinkin’ on their own.”

Emma reached down and grabbed the gray tabby with her other hand. “Then I’ll take these two.”

“Two of ’em, eh?” The store owner grinned. “The missus will be right pleased when I tell her they’ve gone to stay with you, Miss Carter.”

It hadn’t been difficult for him to convince her. After three months in her new home, Emma was ready for company, to hear some sounds she didn’t make herself. She wasn’t lonely. Not really. She had found her solitary existence to be good for her relationship with the Lord. She talked aloud to Him often. She wrote prayers in her journal. She’d learned to be still and
know that He was God. But a couple of kittens would enliven her household and that appealed to her.

Mr. Johnson put the two kittens in an empty hatbox for the ride home. “Don’t want ’em falling out of the buggy. Now, do we?”

Emma smiled at him as she took hold of the precious cargo.

With her grocery purchases in the back of the vehicle and the hatbox on the seat beside her, the kittens meowing noisily, Emma turned Copper toward home. October had painted the forest with rich golds and fiery reds, mixed in among the different shades of green. It wouldn’t be long, she was certain, before the first snows fell. Her trips to town would be limited once winter set in. It could be six months or more before she was able to attend church services again. She would miss that more than anything.

She glanced down at the hatbox, then held the reins in her left hand and lifted the lid with the other. The two kittens looked at her with their round kitten eyes, still voicing their complaints.

“What shall I name you?”

“Meow. Meow.”

“I know.” She touched the head of the gray tabby. “You’re Isaiah.” She touched the gold-colored kitten. “And you’re Jeremiah.” She laughed as her gaze swept the surrounding forest and mountains. “Voices, crying in the wilderness.” She slapped the reins against the horse’s backside. “Giddy up there, Copper. Time we were home.”

Copper’s stride lengthened into a ground-eating trot and the buggy flew along the dirt road, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. The kittens continued to yowl as Emma made a list in her head of things she needed to accomplish before nightfall. So intent were her thoughts she almost failed to slow the horse in time to turn into her driveway. And when she did, she was
surprised to see her brother-in-law’s automobile parked close to the house. She hadn’t expected callers today.

Liza rose from a bench on the deck.

“Hello,” Emma called to her, waving.

Liza waved back, bracing Harry, already six months old, on her left hip. “I was afraid I would have to leave before you returned.”

Emma reined in. When the buggy stopped, she got down and tied the horse to a post, then grabbed the hatbox and hurried up the stairs. “How are you?” She kissed her sister’s cheek.