Always Dakota (13 page)

His question was followed by another heavy sigh. “In the time you’ve had Axel, his father’s landed in prison on a drug charge.”

This was good news as far as Bob could see. After the way the bastard had abused his own child, prison was exactly where he belonged.

“He has a twenty-year sentence, but he’s already been in trouble—fighting with other inmates. It doesn’t look like he’s going to be paroled any year soon.”

“Good.”

Merrily watched him the way an animal does its prey, pacing back and forth, from the far edge of hope to the brink of despair, frantic to know what was being said, yet afraid to listen herself.

“About Axel’s mother—”

“Don’t know her, but Merrily does.”

“Did,” the attorney corrected. “She died of an overdose.”

Bob suffered no regret on her account, either. The woman wasn’t fit to be called a mother. From what Merrily had told him, she’d willingly agreed to sell Axel and she’d made no effort to end the abuse.

“This has to be good news, right?” Bob asked. “For us, I mean. Axel has bonded with Merrily and me. We’re the only family he knows.”

“It
would
be good news if Merrily hadn’t stolen the boy.”

“She was protecting him,” Bob cried. Anyone with half a brain would see that she’d taken the only possible course of action. The child was being physically and psychologically abused. Merrily had contacted the authorities and—because of circumstances, perhaps because of her own lack of credibility—that hadn’t resulted in a damn thing. But if she hadn’t taken Axel when she did, there was no telling what would’ve happened to the boy.

“Now listen,” Doug said, “I know this is going to be difficult, but I want you to trust me.”

Bob could feel it coming. He sensed it the same way he did an approaching storm.

Doug Alder waited as if giving Bob time to adjust to what he was about to say. “The state has asked me to hand Axel over to them.”

“No!” Bob’s response was loud and instantaneous. “No.”

“Bob, listen, if you and Merrily are going to have a chance at adopting Axel yourselves, you have to do this.”

“No.”

Merrily’s eyes had gone wild. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but his reaction told her they were in danger of losing their son.

“The state will send a social worker to collect Axel. The courts have appointed what’s called a guardian ad litem. That’s generally another attorney whose job is to look after the child’s best interests. Basically, you have a strong case. Axel loves you and Merrily, and if he’s bonded to you, the courts should be willing to consider you as adoptive parents.”

Buffalo Bob sat down, his knees too weak to hold him upright. “How…long?”

“How long would Axel be away from you?”

“Yes.” His voice shook with the depth of his emotion. This shouldn’t be happening. He’d hoped it could all be resolved without Axel’s being taken from them. More than hoped, he’d counted on it.

“I can’t answer that,” Doug told him quietly. “It could be a matter of weeks, but it might take several months.”

“Tell me!” Merrily demanded, grabbing Bob’s arm. “They want to take him away, don’t they?”

He nodded, then gestured for silence.

“It’s up to you,” Doug told him. “I haven’t given the authorities any information that would lead them to you, but I don’t think continued secrecy is what you want. You wouldn’t have called me if you didn’t want to clean up this mess with Axel, and make everything legal and above-board. You said it yourself. You’re tired of constantly worrying about being found out.”

“Either we face it now or we face it later.” Bob repeated his own words, although the conviction had gone flat.

“Exactly.”

Doug made it sound easy. Made disclosure sound like the only choice they had. If that was the case, then why did his heart feel as though it was being ripped from his chest? If that was the case, why was his wife sobbing at his side?

“The decision is yours.”

Bob put down the phone. He looked to Merrily and held open his arms and she came to him. As he held her tight, she stared up at him expectantly, silently begging him not to let them take her baby.

“We have to hand him over until the adoption can be completed,” he told her.

Merrily bit down on her lip so hard, blood oozed from between her teeth. “He doesn’t know any mother but me.”

“He isn’t going to forget us.”

“But…”

“We have to do this.”

Merrily closed her eyes and slowly nodded, sobs shaking her shoulders almost uncontrollably.

“Tell them where we are,” Bob whispered into the phone. His resolve was stronger now than ever. It wouldn’t be long before they had their son back, before he and Merrily were Axel’s legal parents. The interim, the weeks or months without him, would be hard on them both, but that couldn’t be avoided.

The state of California scheduled a social worker to pick up Axel two days before Christmas. Doug had tried to talk the authorities into waiting until after the holidays, but his request was denied. Buffalo Bob and Merrily had no choice but to relinquish their son.

Merrily had barely spoken to Bob in days. On the morning of December twenty-third, she silently, dutifully, packed Axel’s clothes and toys.

Bob got up early that day, unable to sleep. He found it impossible to stay in one place for long. The flight was supposed to land in Grand Forks at noon, which meant that Beth Graham would arrive between one and two. Maddy McKenna, Hassie and Pastor Dawson arrived at 12:30, hoping to provide comfort and support, but no one seemed to have much to say.

Bob saw the rental car the minute it pulled into town. “She’s here,” he told Merrily. A few moments later, an older woman walked into the restaurant. She stood at the entrance in her inadequate trench coat, her shoes wet with snow. Despite her obvious discomfort, she had a kind face and her expression was sympathetic.

At the sight of her, Merrily’s eyes welled with fresh tears. Bob reached for Axel. “How’s my man?” he asked in a choked voice. He held out his palm and Axel slapped his small hand against Bob’s. He laughed and hugged Bob tight around the neck.

Bob kissed him, then handed him back to Merrily.

She clung to the boy, sobbing uncontrollably. Axel squirmed in her embrace, not understanding.

The social worker advanced into the room. “I’m Beth Graham from California C.P.S.,” she said softly. “I’m here for Axel.”

Bob merely nodded.

“No…no! God, please don’t take my baby from me! Please!” Merrily screamed as the woman approached.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Carr.”

“Somebody, please…Bob, don’t let them do this.” Merrily was crying so hard it was difficult to make out her words.

“We have to give him up for now,” Bob said as gently as he could. “It’ll only be for a little while.”

“You promised me it’d never come to this. You promised….”

“I’m sorry.” Surely she could see this was just as hard for him.

In the end, Bob was forced to pry Axel away from Merrily’s grasp. Thankfully, the social worker left almost immediately. Merrily ran out of the room, and Bob collapsed in a chair, burying his face in his hands. He felt Pastor Dawson at his side, Maddy and Hassie, too. Through blurry eyes, he squinted at the Christmas decorations in the bar, so at odds with the way he felt.

Somehow they made it through the evening, and that first night. Bob didn’t sleep and he knew Merrily was awake, too, but they didn’t speak. Their emotions remained raw, confused.

Come morning, Christmas Eve, the sun woke Bob. He was surprised to discover he’d drifted off, but he didn’t feel he’d gotten any real rest. His heart ached for Axel and for Merrily, who’d placed her trust in him. Difficult as it was, he’d done what he believed to be right.

Rolling onto his side, he reached for his wife and discovered her side of the bed empty. Thinking she’d decided to sleep in Axel’s bedroom, he went to look for her. Merrily wasn’t there, either.

Nor was she downstairs.

A sick sensation came over him. Hurrying up the stairs, he ran back to their bedroom. The closet door was half open and he could see at a glance that Merrily’s clothes were gone.

His wife had done what she always did. She’d run away.

Rage filled him, and with a wild shout Bob plowed his hand into the wall. His fist slammed into the plaster and as luck would have it, he hit a stud. The last thing he heard before he crumpled to the floor in pain was the sound of cracking bones.

W
hen Calla arrived in Buffalo Valley on Christmas Eve, she was shocked by how different the town looked after six months away. Christmas lights were strung across Main Street and although it was still daylight, they glowed a festive red and green. The pharmacy windows were painted with a cheery winter scene, and at Maddy’s Grocery the entire parking lot was decorated with strings of glittering rope and blinking lights. Even the new beauty shop and the catalogue store had an inviting display of Christmas joy.

Never in her life had Calla seen the town look prettier. She was excited to be back but wasn’t admitting it, at least not out loud. In fact, she’d decided to stay cool and impassive and not let anyone know how she felt about being home.

“What do you think?” Jessica asked as they pulled onto Main Street. She’d ridden along with Calla’s grandfather to collect her from the Grand Forks airport. Although Calla was curious as to why her mother or Dennis hadn’t come, she wasn’t about to complain. Actually she was so glad to see her friend that nothing could ruin her good mood.

“The town looks all right,” Calla said noncommittally. In reality she thought it was delightful—like driving through a Christmas card. A fresh snowfall had dusted the road and frosted the buildings, and the nostalgic beauty of the scene brought her close to tears.

“You aren’t going to get this kind of cozy feel in Minneapolis,” Jessica murmured, wrapping her arm around Calla’s.

Calla nodded, blinking rapidly.

Jessica couldn’t possibly have any idea how glad Calla was to be away from the big city. Phoning her mother had been the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she couldn’t tolerate living with her father any longer. She hadn’t asked about moving back home yet, but that was what she hoped would happen. If anything, these months away from Buffalo Valley had taught her the importance of checking out a situation before plunging into it. Had she known what her father was really like, she would never have gone to him, would never have made the mistakes she had.

The week before she called her mother, Calla had narrowly escaped being arrested. Her father had held another of his infamous parties. Luckily, she’d been on her way to work when the place was raided. Ten minutes earlier and Calla would have been there when the narcotics officers arrived. The worst of it was that her father had taken the money she’d saved from her job to help bail himself out. Every cent was gone. That money had been her freedom fund, her chance to escape.

Following his arrest, her father had turned ugly. It’d gotten so bad, Calla was ready to swallow her pride and move back to Buffalo Valley. Naturally, she wasn’t telling her mother or Dennis the real truth about Willie; if she did decide to stay, she wanted her mother to be grateful.

“Everyone’s dying to talk to you.”

That bolstered Calla’s ego. In six months she hadn’t managed to make one good friend in Minneapolis. Between school and her job at BurgerHaven, there hadn’t been much opportunity to cultivate friendships. All this time, she’d assumed that attending a big city high school would mean lots of advantages—interesting programs and people she’d never see in a hick town like Buffalo Valley.

True, she had access to programs far beyond the reach of anything offered at school here. Unfortunately, participation in many of those programs required money and time, neither of which was available to her. She could go to Europe with the German class, for instance, but she had to pay her own way. Like her father was ever going to fork over any money! That was a joke. Half the time
she
was the one who supported him.

Calla didn’t know why it’d taken her so long to figure it out. Her father was an irresponsible freeloader—and worse.

“Do you want to see your mom a little later?” her grandfather asked when he stopped at his house—the only home Calla had ever known.

“You mean she’s not here?” Calla had assumed her mother and probably Dennis would be at her grandfather’s waiting, with dinner all ready and a decorated Christmas tree with wrapped gifts beneath it. She felt more than a little hurt that they weren’t. She’d been hoping for a resumption of the family’s traditional Christmas festivities as part of her “welcome home.” She hadn’t realized until now how badly she’d wanted that.

“Your…mother hasn’t been feeling well lately.”

Both her grandfather and Jessica looked at Calla, waiting for a response.

“Is she all right?” Apparently, whatever was wrong seemed to be lingering, because her mother had been at home the day she’d phoned.

“She’s fine.”

“Actually, everyone’s heading over for Christmas Eve service at the church later. You’ll come, won’t you?” Jessica pleaded.

“Father McGrath is here for Christmas Eve?” Calla asked. The old priest only came into town occasionally, and never for Christmas Eve, not since the church had closed.

“We have a new minister,” Jessica told her eagerly. “He used to live here.”

“Larry Dawson,” her grandfather cut in. “He was a good friend of mine.”

Calla had never heard of him.

“He’s great, too,” Jessica continued. “There’s plans to start a teen group after the first of the year. Everyone’s excited about that.”

“The whole family’s going tonight,” Calla’s grandfather said. “You comin’?”

“I’ll go, I guess.”

“Sit by me, okay?” Jessica urged.

Another time, an earlier time, Calla would have found the request childish, but after the trouble she’d had making friends, it felt good to be wanted. “Sure.”

“Joe Lammermann will be there.”

Calla shrugged as though that was of little concern. Actually she was dying to see him. A year ago they’d gone to the Sweetheart Dance together, but soon afterward Joe had dumped her for some cheerleader over in Devils Lake.

“He’s asked about you a few times,” Jessica told her, as they walked into her grandfather’s house.

“He has?” Joe’s interest was the best news yet. She had to hear this, and she didn’t want her grandfather listening in. “I’ll put everything in my room,” she told him, then grabbed Jessica’s hand and led her back to her old bedroom.

Everything in her room was just as she’d left it. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that—other than grateful.

“What did Joe say?” she asked, hopping onto the bed and sitting there cross-legged.

“He said…” Jessica bit into her lower lip. “You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do.”

“All right. He said you were a fool to leave.”

Her old boyfriend’s remark wasn’t far from the truth, and Calla had no problem accepting it.

“But the only reason he said that was because he misses you,” Jessica added quickly.

“He’s not dating anyone…special, is he?”

“No.” Jessica glanced at her watch. “Listen, I’ve got to run or my mom will kill me. Meet me at the church at seven, okay?”

“Sure.” Calla walked her friend to the door and watched as Jessica raced toward the pharmacy where she’d parked. Calla realized she hadn’t asked her about Kevin, the one true love of her friend’s life. Jess hadn’t mentioned him, which suggested that things weren’t what they had been. Kevin Betts attended art school in Chicago, and it was difficult to maintain a long-distance relationship. Not long ago, Calla had envied him the opportunity to escape Buffalo Valley.

“Gramps,” Calla called, seeking him out. “Do you know if Kevin is still dating Jessica?”

“Don’t have a clue,” Joshua McKenna muttered.

For the first time Calla looked carefully around the house. Now that her mother was married and living with Dennis, the house wasn’t as homey as it used to be. Her grandfather had put up a Christmas tree, but it was a small aluminum one that sat on an end table. That was the extent of any holiday decorations. Her mother had always gone overboard with Christmas and Calla was surprised to realize how much she missed it. She missed silly things, like the two cotton-ball snowmen she’d made in sixth grade. She missed the crocheted and starched snowflakes that added a festive air to the house. Sarah had been ridiculous about the holidays—even placing lights in the windows, including an old gas lamp that had once belonged to Calla’s grandmother—and Calla knew now that she loved all the Christmas traditions as much as her mother did.

“I’ll bet Mrs. Sinclair could tell you about Jessica and Kevin,” her grandfather said. “You’ll probably see her at church tonight.”

But it would be awkward to ask her old teacher, especially there. Rather than wait, Calla reached for the portable phone and retreated to her bedroom.

Mrs. Sinclair sounded pleased to hear from her. “I didn’t mean to bother you,” Calla said, getting to her point immediately, “but I need to find out about Jessica and Kevin before I say something I shouldn’t.”

“Oh, Calla,” Lindsay Sinclair breathed, “we’ve all missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“Are you going to stay?”

“I—I…” Calla could see no reason to delay talking about her problems with school. “I’ve…my grades haven’t been the best. I don’t know if I can graduate this year and it’d be too embarrassing to come back and not graduate.”

“Yes, you can,” Mrs. Sinclair insisted. “I’ve been on maternity leave and Mrs. Folsom from Devils Lake filled in for me. But I’ll be returning after the first of the year. We’ll work together and you can get caught up, but it’ll take effort on both our parts.”

“You’d do that for me?” Calla felt like weeping. She hadn’t wanted to say anything, but not being able to graduate with her class was her biggest concern. Because she’d been tardy so often, she’d flunked two classes and her grades other than drama weren’t that good. Not the way they’d been here in Buffalo Valley.

“We’ll do whatever is necessary to get you back on course. Don’t you worry.”

“That’d be great.”

“Now, listen, about Jessica and Kevin, they broke up in September. Jessica’s been dating Bert Loomis.”

“Bert?” One of the Loomis twins. That didn’t seem possible.

“They’re quite an item.”

Calla was astonished and tried to hide it.

“You’re coming to the Christmas Eve service, aren’t you?”

“I thought I would,” she murmured, still adjusting to the thought of her friend dating Bert Loomis. Funny Jessica hadn’t said anything herself.

“I’ll see you later, then, and if you want, we can talk some more about school right after the holidays.”

“Sure,” Calla returned eagerly. They exchanged Christmas greetings, and Calla hung up, feeling a great sense of relief. Her homecoming was going so well, she could see no reason to delay visiting her mother. She wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but she
had
missed her. A thousand times she’d wanted to call and beg to come home, but had resisted because of Dennis.

“You ready to head on over to visit your mother?” her grandfather asked when she came out of her bedroom.

“I guess.” She shrugged, as if to say she’d eventually need to confront her mother and might as well get it over with now.

Calla donned her coat and stuffed a hat over her hair, pulling it down past her ears. They walked the few blocks over to the old Habberstad house. The place had been vacant for a couple of years and was one of the nicest in town. Calla had always liked the two-story Victorian structure, especially the wide veranda. It was the kind of house she’d always thought about living in one day, perhaps when she was married.

Dennis opened the door and shared an enigmatic look with Joshua before greeting Calla. “Merry Christmas.”

“You, too,” she said, stepping past him. She wasn’t actually rude, but she was well aware that her behavior bordered on it.

“Calla!” Her mother was sitting up with her feet on the sofa, her legs covered with an afghan. She held her arms open for her daughter.

Frowning, Calla hugged her, and briefly closed her eyes, wrapped in the warm embrace. Sarah seemed so pale and thin. “What’s wrong?” she asked as she straightened. “Did you break your leg?” Surely that was something her grandfather should have mentioned.

“You’d better tell her,” Joshua said, nodding at Sarah and Dennis.

“Tell me what?” She stared at her mother, who looked like she wanted to weep. Dennis came to stand by her and, placing his hand on Sarah’s shoulder, he gazed directly at Calla. “Your mother’s pregnant. There’s been some trouble with the pregnancy and the doctor’s ordered bed rest.”

Her mother had lied.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sarah said hastily, “but I didn’t know I was pregnant until the day before Thanksgiving—your father
couldn’t
have known. He lied to you.”

“Yeah, but you knew when I phoned,” she challenged.

“Yes, I did, but it didn’t seem the right time to tell you.”

Calla glared at her mother. She should have realized. Sarah wasn’t any better than Willie. “In other words, you
both
lied to me!”

“Do you have anything you want to say?” Gramps interrupted, coming to stand between Calla and her mother.

“Say?” Calla repeated with a short laugh.

“Like
congratulations, I’m pleased for you,
” Gramps suggested.