Once in a Blue Moon (27 page)

Melissa nodded at the
unwelcome information. Unfortunately she could, but didn’t want to
dwell on it. Perhaps she needed to keep Jeremy away from the
cowhands. “What about skunks?”

“Yeah, there’s skunks
around,” Jeremy said matter-of-factly.

Melissa laughed. “You
couldn’t have lied?” She shook her head. “Just make sure you keep
them away from me.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes
and walked ahead. “They’re mostly nocturnal, Mom.”

Something glinted in
the sunlight, and Melissa leaned down and picked up a piece of
metal, partially buried in the dirt. “Look at this.”

Jeremy came back to
study her find. “Huh. An old horseshoe.”

Jessica crowded in to
examine the rusty, wrinkled, U-shaped piece of iron. “Maybe it’s
lucky.”

“I
doubt that. It’s too ugly.” Melissa went to toss it, but realized
Richard might like to have it. Perhaps she should start collecting
old junk for him and see if she could find a way to get it back to
the 21
^st
century. He’d love that.

They started walking
again.

“You got your hand
dirty, Mom,” Jessica teased. “I thought you hated to get
messy.”

Melissa looked down at
the streaks of orange grime from the horseshoe and had to chuckle.
“Well maybe you don’t know everything about me that you think you
know.” A memory surfaced and she smiled. “Watch this.”

The kids stopped and
watched her expectantly.

She straightened,
cleared her throat, used her clean hand to pushed her hair behind
her ears, and concentrated for a moment.

She wiggled her
ears.

The kids laughed like
it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen.

Melissa grinned, glad
she could still do the trick.

“I didn’t know you
could do that!” said Jeremy.

Melissa looked down her
nose at him. “There’s a lot that you don’t know about me, mister.”
As she said the words, she realized how true they were. She didn’t
share a lot of herself with her family. They knew next to nothing
about her childhood. She’d always focused on the future and never
looked back. For some reason, the thought suddenly made her
sad.

Jeremy started walking
again, then broke into a run. “Here it is!”

They led her down a
not-very-well defined path, through the grass, to the stream
below.

Jessica flipped her
blonde hair over her shoulder and grinned. “You gotta see
this!”

On the side of the
stream, out of the current, a small school of fish swam about.

Jeremy grinned. “Cool,
huh?”

Melissa smiled and
touched first his hair, then Jessica’s shoulder, warmth filling her
chest. “Yes. It is cool.”

Jeremy stood up. “But
wait ‘til you see this over here.” He tramped down the grass,
walking down the side of the stream, stopping beside a slower,
muckier section in the water.

Melissa followed behind
Jessica. There were tadpoles swimming frantically in the
shallows.

Jessica pointed. “Do
you see them? The tadpoles?”

Melissa nodded, then
from their grinning faces, realized that this was the amazing thing
they wanted to show her. “Wow! How truly amazing!”

They glowed.

Jeremy took a smashed
piece of bread out of his pocket and dropped tiny pieces in the
water.

Jessica took a piece
from him and did the same.

Melissa made a mental
note to turn his pockets inside out on laundry day.

The tadpoles went
crazy, flipping over each other, fighting for the food, and the
children giggled.

Melissa sat down on the
side of the hill, set the horseshoe aside, wiped her hand on the
long grass, then wrapped her arms around her knees.

Jeremy stepped in the
mud and splashed muck on his jeans.

“Hey, watch the sludge
there, buddy.” Melissa scolded. “Laundry’s not for three more days.
Thank goodness.”

Her
children were both smiling and she realized they seemed happier
than she’d ever seen them, which was wonderful, but strange. Here
they were in the past, they had so little in the way of
possessions--no toys, no Play Station, no clothing to speak of.
They were worked hard for a good portion of each day, yet seemed so
happy.
They
were
wonderful.

She took a deep breath
of the late summer air and a fierce, consuming love for her
children filled her. “Jeremy, Jessica, you know I love you, don’t
you?”

They turned, Jessica
eyes widening, and Jeremy’s grin fading.

Melissa swallowed, her
throat closing. “I do.” Her voice broke and she sucked in a quick
breath. “I love you both so much,” her throat tight, she barely got
the words out.

Jeremy rushed forward,
knelt in the grass beside her and hugged her, his face pressing
into her neck.

She clung to him.

Jessica wavered beside
the stream, her eyes filling with tears.

Melissa’s own eyes
filled with moisture. She held an arm out to Jessica.

Jessica charged
forward, and threw herself at Melissa, almost knocking her and
Jeremy backward.

Melissa held them both
tightly. Kissed them both on the head as they clung to her. She was
so glad she’d come today.

* * *

While Jeremy and
Jessica started pancakes for dinner, Melissa headed over to her
assigned section of the garden to weed. She hadn’t done the chore
for at least a week, and wanted to get the work over as soon as
possible, have dinner with her family and perhaps get a chance to
sketch again before bedtime. Settling on her knees in the dirt, she
got started. The weeds had flourished since the last time she’d
done the chore, and soon her hands, arms, and back ached from the
repetitive grasping and pulling motion. The work was hard, but she
had to admit there was something soothing about gardening.

Granted, the labor also
made her realize she needed a bath, and there were nasty bugs
crawling in the dirt and the smell of dinner coming from the
bunkhouse had her stomach clenching in hunger. But overall, she was
actually having a good time.

Footsteps approached,
making a slapping noise on the hard-packed dirt of the path leading
to the ranch house. Melissa glanced up to see the widow MacPherson
closing in.

Melissa bit back a
groan. Great. The last person she wanted to see when she was in a
good mood was the widow. Too late, she considered she might have
started weeding in a less visible section of the huge garden.

The widow stopped a few
feet away. “I need to discuss something with you.”

Oh goodie. Melissa kept
pulling weeds. “All right. Discuss away.”

The widow hesitated,
shifted her weight from one leg to the other, took a breath, let it
out, and took another. “How are you managing? Is everything going
well for you?”

Melissa raised a brow,
and sat back on her heels. From their previous encounters, and the
widow’s cross-armed stance, Melissa sincerely doubted the widow
wanted to inquire after her well being. “Everything is fine.”

The widow nodded.
“Good, good.”

She obviously had
something on her mind. The fact that she seemed hesitant to address
the subject made Melissa nervous. Did she want to fire Richard? She
quickly discarded the notion as doubtful. Everyone liked him and he
was a hard worker. And while the widow might not like Melissa
personally, Melissa doubted she’d fire Richard to get rid of her,
or approach Melissa about it.

And if she dared
complain that Melissa wasn’t working hard enough, she’d get an
earful. Melissa went back to pulling weeds. Some were tough to pull
out, and her hands were sore. They were also orange from carrying
the horseshoe and now a bit green and brown besides. The nice layer
of dirt under her nails didn’t help their appearance.

One word. Just one word
of criticism and Melissa would let her have it.

The widow leaned down
and pulled a few weeds. “Your children seem to have settled in
well.”

“Yes. They have.”
Melissa watched her pull a well entrenched weed. Was she trying to
make Melissa feel inadequate? Melissa quickly stifled a laugh at
her own paranoia. Since when did she feel possessive over weeds?
Let the old bat pull as many as she liked. The woman just had a way
of making her feel ill-at-ease.

The widow seemed just
as uncomfortable which was making Melissa even more nervous as the
minutes went by. What could she want? Perhaps a favor? A new dress
or something? A lightbulb went off in Melissa’s head. Of course! No
doubt she’d seen Jessica’s nice dress and wanted one too, but since
they’d had such harsh encounters between them, was probably
embarrassed to ask.

Melissa considered it.
Yes, she’d be willing to make her an outfit. Suddenly she felt
quite benevolent. Perhaps she could use one of the new designs she
was working on.

“Was there something in
particular you needed?” Melissa tried to sound as pleasant as
possible. She wouldn’t make Mrs. MacPherson grovel.

It would be fun to
design some new clothes. Perhaps something in a lighter color to
get her away from the navy and brown she favored. With her white
hair and olive skin she’d look stunning in a jade or ruby
color.

If the widow paid her,
Melissa could get some material for herself and perhaps even pick
up a little more business from referrals. Melissa smiled.

The widow sighed and
stood up. “Your overtures toward Hannah are confusing to me. I’m
not sure what you want from her.”

Melissa blinked, the
comment so unexpected, it took a moment to understand the insult;
to understand that new clothes were no longer on the horizon. “Why
do I have to want something? Hannah’s my age. Why wouldn’t I
gravitate toward her?”

“But you’re nothing
alike, are you?” She sounded worried, and her eyes searched
Melissa’s face.

Melissa felt a sting of
anger. “What is it, exactly, that you’re concerned about?”

“I don’t want Hannah
upset. Someone like you can’t understand what it’s like to be hurt,
but Hannah has a good life here and I don’t want you disturbing
her. Leave her alone.”

Someone like her? Leave
her alone? She made it sound as if Melissa were an unfeeling,
diseased pest that might contaminate those around her? She
swallowed, her breath caught, and just that fast she felt ten years
old again.

She wasn’t good enough.
She was shut out. A destitute, skinny, unwanted kid, always on the
outside looking in. No friends, no parties, and no clothes. A
reject.

She didn’t cry. The
lesson she’d learned long ago had stuck. Even when they stab you in
the heart, never let them see you cry.

The widow watched her
with a slight look of concern.

Melissa’s spine
straightened, she sat back on her heels and smiled for all she was
worth. She saw no reason not to confirm the widow’s bad impression
of her. “So, you want me to stay away from Hannah. What’s it worth
to you?”

The widow’s expression
hardened. “What do you want? Money? Sorry, but I’m unwilling to be
coerced. If you like your new residence, I’d suggest you leave
Hannah alone.”

After one more
searching glance, Mrs. MacPherson turned and quickly left.

Dry-eyed, Melissa
viciously yanked at a weed. Threaten her, would she? Threaten to
turn Melissa’s family out, would she? Mrs. MacPherson had just
messed with the wrong woman. She’d get hers. Somehow. If it was the
last thing Melissa did, she’d make sure of it.

* * *

Later that night, alone
in the darkness, Melissa sat on the cabin steps, listening to the
crickets and studying the incandescent full moon.

She took a deep breath,
tilted her head back, and raised her arms up into the air. “Beam me
up, Scottie.”

Nothing happened.

She lowered her limbs
and studied the white orb. The moon, still and distant, seemed to
taunt her with its indifference.

She sighed. They’d been
here an entire month now, but it seemed like an eternity. Leaning
back, she braced her elbows on the rough wood of the step behind
her. Her nightgown snagged on a sliver, and freeing the sleeve, she
grimaced. The rough wood of the steps mirrored the roughness of
life here. She hated this place and didn’t belong.

An owl flew overhead,
and she shivered and followed the bird’s progress through the dark
night air as it flew past her and over the widow’s place.

She quickly looked
away, but it was too late. Her face crumpled. Tears that hadn’t
fallen earlier burned behind her nose and eyes, finally spilling
onto her cheeks. Melissa wiped at her face and bit back a sob.

Why was she crying? Why
was she feeling so fragile? What did she care what others thought?
She hadn’t cared for a long time.

She pressed her eyelids
into her nightgown. It was this place. This horrible place had
opened something; some part inside herself she didn’t want to look
at. And now that part lay open, vulnerable, like when she’d been a
child.

She quickly tried to
push the unwelcome thought away. Her childhood was a closed book
and that was how she wanted it. What good did it do to dwell on the
past?

She wanted to be back
in that place where nothing could hurt her anymore; where she
didn’t think of things that hurt. She’d worked hard to
become...well, if not happy, at least impervious and untouched by
pain. It was a much better place to be, and now she wanted to get
back to that place. She muffled her sobs the best she could.

She wanted to go
home.

Richard stood at the
end of the line of men, used to his position as ‘new guy’. With his
fingertips, he wiped sweat off his brow and brushed the moisture
onto his jeans. The day was shaping up to be another hot one.