Leave It to Chance (5 page)

“I don’t have a few more days, Mom. I’m being evicted.”

“I’ll pay for Chance’s expenses. I know the perfect—”

“I already sold him, and I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Her mom just never stopped.

Her mom served the cobbler in silence, her back stiff. Braden slunk downstairs and ate his piece, then returned to his room.

After the dishes had been washed and the counter wiped—soap, then bleach—her mom kissed the kids, gave her a brief smile, and left.

Sierra helped the kids get ready for bed earlier than normal. The Adamses would be there any minute, probably with their beaming daughter.

Covers to his chin, Trevor reached up for a hug. “Can you read me a story?”

She kissed him. “Not tonight, sweetie.”

“Pray!” Trevor said.

Sierra stifled a sigh. Her prayers had dried up to nearly nonexistent since the divorce, but she’d kept the routine for the older kids, and Trevor had adopted it too. “Keep Trevor safe, and help him to sleep well. Amen.”

His eyes remained pinched shut. “And help us keep Chance. Amen.”

Her heart broke at the innocent faith that, little by little, would be eroded by unanswered prayers until it would seem pointless to even ask.

Braden stalled in Trevor’s doorway, both hands pressed against the frame. “Why do we have to go to bed now? It’s only seven forty-five.”

Sierra flipped the light off. “We have a big day tomorrow.”
Delivering a check to Mr. Flannery.

Emory stood in her pajamas behind Braden. “Excuse me.”

Braden didn’t move so Emory tried to squeeze past.

He pressed his hip against the door to keep her from entering.

Emory pushed harder, her face turning red.

“Braden, let her in!” Sierra said.

He moved, and Em shot into the room. She glared at her brother, then hopped onto the bunk bed above Trevor.

Sierra held Braden’s angry gaze and felt her shoulders drop. “Go get ready for bed, honey.”

He made a disgusted sound but turned and walked into the bathroom. A drawer rolled open. A mere twenty seconds later the toothbrush thunked against the bottom of the drawer, then the drawer banged shut. Sierra sighed.
Pick your battles.
At least his dad could take care of the cavities.

The house finally quiet, Sierra jogged down the stairs. She breathed deep and felt some of the tension release. Disappointed kids were going to bicker, right? Some back talk had to be normal. But it was the growing disrespect that bothered her. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, her hand on the banister, her thoughts flipping back to when Braden had been happier, more like himself. Before school started, before summer began. A glimmering memory flickered—of Braden throwing her a wide smile, backpack on his shoulder, ready to go to his dad’s. But he didn’t go. His dad and some buddies had flown to California to go rappelling instead. It had been spring.

It had been the start of broken promises and her children’s broken hearts. She moved to the kitchen and slowly pulled down a mug for cocoa. Maybe Michael needed the stress relief of kid-free weekends. But raising children wasn’t a task that you could get to at your convenience. The kids needed him.

The phone rang as she stirred chocolate powder into the steaming milk, putting a halt to her thoughts.

“Sierra?” a male voice came over the line. “This is Greg Adams. Turns out my wife wasn’t as keen on getting a horse as I thought. We’re going to hold off for a little while.” Sierra felt hope being sucked from the room.

“Oh. Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” Then she hung up.

Sierra thought about her mother’s offer to pay for the horse. The kids would be thrilled if they could keep the animal. A chill ran down her spine at the thought. What if something happened to them? Could she live with that possibility? Sure, not every horse was dangerous, and her kids could probably ride Chance for years and survive unscathed.

But Mr. Flannery was expecting his check in the morning—she needed a miracle. Yet she knew God—He was out of miracles when it came to her.

Sierra woke up and stared at the ceiling, a sense of foreboding pressing down on her. October thirteenth. Mr. Flannery expected to hear from her today—or better yet, hear the sound of a moving truck filled with her belongings.

She pulled on her robe and went to wake the kids.

Emory, her night owl, staggered toward the bathroom, her eyes tiny slits of sleepiness.

“Em, meet us in the kitchen in a few minutes.”

Trevor bounded down the stairs. “I’m hungry.” A moment later she heard a cupboard door bang and then the ping of Fruit Loops hitting the bottom of a cereal bowl.

“Come on, Braden.” She peered into his room for the second time. “Time to get up, lazybones.”

“I don’t want to go to school.”

“Sorry, not an option. And I need you in the kitchen for a family meeting in a few minutes.”

He scowled but got out of bed.

A few minutes later, Sierra pulled out a chair to face them as they hunkered over their cereal bowls. “Guys, we’re going to have to move.”

Braden perked up. “Where?”

“Grandma’s.”

“Aww. I thought we’d have an apartment with a pool.”

Sierra tried to smile. “No. But we shouldn’t be at Grandma’s more than a month or so.”

Emory’s head leaned against her hand, still not fully awake. “I don’t want to move.”

Trevor piped up. “We can make cookies every day.” He grinned at his mom, and she tousled his blond hair. Just what her hips needed.

Forty-five minutes later the bus pulled away and she walked back into the house and strode straight for the kitchen, thoughts pelting her brain. Should she call Greg Adams back and offer to lower Chance’s price? Talk to Greg’s wife about … what? How great horses were and how badly her daughter needed one? Disgust rolled over her. How selfish to want to protect her own children but endanger another.

Braden’s cereal bowl still sat on the table, messy droplets of milk surrounding it. Armed with the dishcloth, she cleared the table and swiped over the milk. On her way back to the sink, the answering machine’s flashing red light caught her eyes.

The cereal bowl quickly clunked down on the counter, she reached to press the button.

“Hi, this is Melissa from Garland Treasures. I just wanted to let you know that we have filled the position.”

Sierra leaned against the counter and stared into the kitchen that by tomorrow would be filled with Ronnie Flannery’s Top Ramen noodles and whatever else college students ate these days. She stared down at the dusting of white crumbs and smear of peanut butter where the kids had made their lunches.

But the job was supposed to be mine.

The phone rested near her elbow, and she slowly picked it up. Her mom was going to be thrilled.

Chapter 6

A bare half ring and her mom picked up.

“Sierra!” Her mom sounded jubilant. She’d probably guessed what was coming.

Sierra took a breath. “Is your offer still open for—?”

“The spare bedrooms are aired and ready. Wal-Mart had their summer sheets on clearance, so I picked some up. I didn’t figure the kids would mind the colors. Fridge and cupboards are stocked, and I was just putting together a casserole for the crew tonight.”

Why am I even surprised?
“The crew?”

Her mom sounded like a proud hen with all her chicks gathered under her wing. “Remember I told you about Paul Willans? He and Sylvia are just waiting for the call to come by. He kindly offered to get some boys from his youth group to help load the big items after school. You will need to put those in storage. I’m sure Jim’s Lock & Key has some units available. I knew you’d want to call on that yourself, but I have a little money set aside to pay for it.” Her mom paused. “Let’s see. I think that’s about it. Oh, did you get any boxes?”

The walls were already closing in. “I didn’t know I’d be moving.”

Her mom brushed the comment aside. “I’m sure Paul has plenty. I’ll ask him to bring some when he comes. So, does nine o’clock sound about right?”

Sierra wanted to grab onto something. She felt like she’d mistakenly floated into the rapids and was heading straight for a drop-off. “Sure, Mom. That sounds fine.”

Her mom’s voice grew soft. “I’m so glad you’re coming home, honey.”

Sierra watched the school bus stop, red lights flashing. The doors opened, and Braden came charging out, but stopped halfway down the big steps to stare at their yard.

Two big pickups loaded with boxes dominated the driveway, and another had backed across the yard up to the porch where two football players wrestled her washer into position next to the dryer.

Braden continued down the steps and dropped his backpack onto the sidewalk. “We’re moving today?”

“I hadn’t planned on it being quite so soon, honey.” Sierra waited for a reaction, but he was still digesting the news. She hated putting them through this. If only Mr. Adams had taken the horse or Michael’s check had cleared. A slight smile lifted the corner of Braden’s mouth and she shook off the frustration. Maybe his sense of adventure was kicking in. She took a step to give him a hug, but her mom was already there and got the hug and grin that Sierra longed to feel.

“Today’s a perfect day to move to your grandma’s!” Abbey said.

Braden turned an eager face to her. “Seriously, Mom?”

She touched his shoulder. “Yep.”

“Cool!” He brushed past them to where the guys worked to strap down the appliances.

“Hey, Em,” Sierra said.

Her daughter, who didn’t like change, sidled next to her and tucked under the arm she held out. “Why do we have to move?”

Sierra darted a look at her mom. “Well, Grandma and I thought it would be easier while I’m looking for a job.”

“What about our room?”

“Come here, sweetie.” Sierra’s mom held her arms out, and Emory flew into them. “How would you like your very own room at Grandma’s? I brought some wallpaper books home for you to look at. You can paint and decorate it however you’d like.”

A feeling of panic set in. “Oh, I don’t know if we should do that, Mom. We’re not going to be there that long.”

Her mom frowned. “Sierra, it’s not good for the kids to be moved back and forth, and there’s no guarantee the next job will work out better than this last one."

Three years wasn’t stable?

Her mom continued, “I think you need at least a year to build a good cushion of savings.”

Sierra glanced at the pickup where the sofa leaned upright against the blanket-draped washer and dryer. What her mom said made sense, but it didn’t make the jittery feeling subside. Smothered by love. It was happening already. She could take the advice over the phone and in person for short intervals. But twenty-four hours a day … she was going to be helpfully henpecked into a nervous wreck. Maybe a miracle would fall into her lap and she’d land an amazing job this week. But she had to believe in miracles for them to happen, didn’t she?

Chapter 7

Blindfolded, Braden’s mom laughed from the front seat. “Where are we going?”

Grandma turned and winked at him in the rear seat. “Remember the rule, no questions allowed.”

It was one of his grandma’s favorite games to blindfold somebody and take them out for a treat. But he
knew
where they were going. He was sure of it, because Grandma had turned right out of the driveway instead of left toward town. If they were going shopping or for ice cream they would have turned left. Instead of houses and buildings he saw fields of grass out his window. The click-clack of the blinker made him sit straighter, trying to see out the windshield around his mom’s seat. Grandma slowed the car and turned.

Yes!
There was a barn! He knew it!

Grandma smiled back at him and gave him another wink. She wasn’t afraid of horses. Boy, was his mom going to be surprised. He hoped she didn’t cry. Sometimes he heard her crying at night when she thought he was asleep, and it scared him.

His grandma stopped the car next to the barn. Braden unlatched his seat belt and shoved past Emory to grab out the van’s side door handle.

The barn door opened, and a tall man carrying a tray of tools came out. Cool! Braden jumped out of the van and hurried over to the man. Braden stuck his hands in his pockets and slowed when he got closer. “Can I help?”

The man had on dark jeans like him, but he had an awesome silver belt buckle. Braden wanted one like that. Maybe he could use his dad’s computer and find one on eBay.

The man smiled. “I got it covered, but thanks.”

Braden dropped his eyes to stare at the ground. He shouldn’t have asked. And it didn’t seem like his dad wanted him to come over to the house anymore anyway. It was a stupid belt buckle.

The man shifted his feet and spoke again, “But I bet I can find another hammer.”

Braden hesitated. “That’s okay. We’re probably not staying long once my mom knows where we are.”

The man tilted his head. “Your mom doesn’t know you’re here?”

Braden sighed. Grown-ups didn’t listen very well. “She knows I’m here. She just doesn’t know she’s here.”

The man kind of chuckled and glanced over at the car where his grandma was hurrying around to the passenger door to help his mom out. “I think I’m missing something. Your mom doesn’t know she’s here?”

“Grandma blindfolded her.” He shrugged. “Kind of to make it a surprise, I guess. But I don’t think she’s going to like it.” But he hoped she did.

Years ago, Ross had been a kid who’d wanted to do man things too. That was why he finally let the boy carry the tool tray as they walked over to the green Honda. Mrs. Lassiter helped a grinning blindfolded woman out of the passenger seat.

The cute dark-haired woman in jeans and a sweatshirt raised her hands to the white strip of cloth tied around her head with a laugh. “Can I take it off now?”

Ross pulled his eyes from the excited woman and glanced at his barn, trying to figure out what the big surprise was. Abbey gave him a secretive smile, then said, “Okay, now.”

The woman ripped the blindfold off, anticipation alight in the laughing brown eyes that darted as she turned in a circle to find her surprise. After a few moments, her mouth started to close, the expectancy waning. Her gaze held his for a moment, then passed on. Soon those eyes found his again and settled there, her puzzlement growing. “Mom?”

Abbey chuckled and leaned to squeeze his arm. “No, it’s not
him
, Sierra.”

Sierra looked away, wariness and uncertainty in her brown eyes. “What’s the surprise?”

“Should be just a few more minutes, honey. In the meantime, this is Ross Morgan.” Abbey nodded toward him. “Ross, these are my grandkids, Braden and Emory. Trevor you’ve met.” She beamed with grandma pride.

Ross returned the shy smiles they gave him.

“And this is my daughter, Sierra. The one I told you about.”

Sierra shot her mom an uneasy look. She turned a questioning gaze toward him and a wisp of a smile crossed her face. “Hello. I’m sure—”

“Ross recently bought this place from his parents, Sierra, and he’s done all this landscaping himself. Isn’t it lovely?”

Sierra looked around. “It is.”

“There! Look, kids.” Abbey pointed up the road, shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun.

Ross didn’t need to turn to know what was coming up his driveway. Abbey had called and arranged the
surprise
yesterday. The kids were jumping and screaming, but he kept his eyes on Sierra.

Excitement brought her up on tiptoe to stare in the direction her mom pointed. Immediately the joy turned to puzzlement, and then hurt and shock drew deep lines in her forehead. She opened her mouth as if she wanted to speak but had no words. A whisper of anger swirled to the surface, and after a lingering glance at her mom she swiped a finger under her eyes, then brushed it against her shirt. Then did it again. She looked up the road, then at the children. Finally she noticed him watching.

The vulnerability and worry touched something deep inside him, and he knew in that moment that whatever her mother had done, he wouldn’t be a part of it.

Sierra turned away from the man’s intent stare. It was unnerving having a hunky stranger, who appeared to have stepped off an old Marlboro billboard, look at her so compassionately.

Her mom had an arm around both Emory and Braden. Trevor hopped from foot to foot beside them, each pair of eyes focused on the red pickup and horse trailer slowly making its way up the driveway, a small ribbon of dust rising behind.

Braden glanced back at her, a tuft of hair near his cowlick bobbing in his excitement. “It’s Chance.”

Sierra nodded and tried to smile at him, her feelings roiling in a tangled knot inside. Her mother had disregarded each of Sierra’s concerns. Steamrolled them, actually. Were her feelings really so invisible, so unnecessary in her mom’s world?

She sensed the man come up beside her. “You didn’t know, did you?” He had a kind voice. Deep with the warmth of caring.

She shook her head but kept her eyes on the red truck.

“I’m sorry.”

Those two words undid her. She felt her chin tremble and pressed her lips together.

The gravel crunched as he moved away.

What now? Tell them not to unload the horse? How could she let her children have one more letdown, and this one from her?

Kyle parked the pickup next to the barn and slammed his door shut with a wide smile. “Hey, Sierra! Ross.” He walked over and gave her mom a hug, “Sorry to keep you waiting. Chance here wasn’t too wild about climbing into the trailer.”

Sierra gripped the blindfold in her hand tighter. “Chance” and “wild” weren’t words she wanted paired in the same sentence.

Kyle bent down to greet the kids. “And you three must be the new owners of the horse tied up in that trailer.”

Sierra’s heart sank at the delighted way the kids nodded their heads.

Braden spread his legs and stuck his hands in his pockets. “We rode him already.”

“Well, you’re going to get a lot of riding out here,” Kyle said, straightening.

Braden grinned at Emory. It was as if the county fair had come to them with unlimited rides. Or rather one ride. Chance.

And she was the reluctant ticket holder. Could she leave her kids lives to chance? And hope that nothing like what happened to Molly would occur? How much hope did she have left? Surely not enough.

She moved quietly over to the group surrounding Kyle. Her eyes found Ross again, who was watching her with dark eyes set in a handsome face that hinted at thoughts stirring well below the surface. His gaze held hers for a spine-tingling moment before she looked away.

Kyle clapped his hands. “Okay, let’s get that horse unloaded.”

Sierra’s heart started pounding. Her mom followed Kyle and the kids toward the trailer. Sierra felt rooted to the spot, wanting to call them back.

Ross walked up to her, blocking her view of them. “Do you want me to ask Kyle to take the horse back?”

“Um. I don’t know.” He was offering her a way out! Her knight wore rugged man’s clothes. A dark wool jacket, black jeans, and work-worn boots. She shivered, but more from fear of Chance than having him near her, right? Elise would be grinning and elbowing her.

He glanced behind him. “You don’t have much time.” Over his shoulder, Kyle was unlatching the rear doors of the trailer.

Terror lurked behind those doors. “Yes! Please ask him.”

He nodded and started toward Kyle.

“Wait! No.” She reached for his arm.

He turned, a half-grin on his face. “Conflicted?”

“Very. Highly anxious, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

A teasing laugh flickered through his eyes. “A gentleman would say he hadn’t.”

She looked at the kids crowded behind Kyle. He said something to them, and they obediently backed up a few feet. “They’re so excited.”

“Abbey said it’s their first horse.” Questions rode the statement.

She gave him a polite smile. “Yes. I’m sure she did.”

Kyle hollered over. “Hey, Ross, you want to give me a hand?”

The man lowered his voice. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he took the horse away.”

Sierra took a deep breath and attempted a smile. “Yes. Yes, it would.”

The man hesitated, a kind smile lingering, then he walked toward Kyle. She followed more slowly. Why couldn’t Miss Libby have been into golden retrievers?

Sierra stopped behind the kids. She felt her mom’s gaze, but couldn’t look at her.

Braden grabbed her hand and started swinging it. “Can you believe it, Mom? Grandma rescued Chance.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She knew her mom was listening intently.

Abbey wrapped an arm around Sierra’s waist. “It’s for the best, honey.”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Mom.”

Her mom gave her a slight squeeze and let her hand drop.

Centered in the middle of the opening above the twin doors was a large gray rump. Much larger than she’d anticipated.

The hinges groaned when Kyle pulled the rear doors wide. He marched to the front of the trailer and disappeared through a side door. His muffled, “All clear,” was a signal Ross apparently understood since the man immediately unclipped the chain that draped behind the horse.

Moments later the gray rump swayed as it backed up, then slowly settled one giant rear hoof, then the other, against the terra firma.

Sierra gritted her teeth to keep from ordering Kyle to push that dangerous hind end back into the trailer and haul it away. She didn’t care where. Canada might be far enough. Last week Braden had asked if he could buy a lizard. At the time she’d shuddered at the thought of a reptile in the house and had visions of the washing machine dragged from the wall as they hunted for the escaped creature. But an aquarium-f would be preferable to a thousand-pound beast of muscle and hooves.

A quick glance sideways sent that idea smoking into the discard pile. She couldn’t do it. Not with Braden, Emory, and Trevor bouncing up and down, throwing glowing looks her way every few seconds.

Then Braden ran up from behind Chance and petted him on the neck.

“Braden!” His name screamed its way straight from her solar plexus. She rushed over and grabbed his jacket, jerking him away.

Ross and Kyle stared at her. Kyle’s mouth sagged, while Ross seemed to assess her with a slow gaze.

Her eyes sought out the barn behind them, anything to avoid the censure that had to be staring at her from the man. Her heart pounded, she could feel the pulse of it in the palm that still gripped the back of Braden’s sweatshirt. Braden shot a look up at her, the whites of his eyes stark against his face.

Ross walked steadily toward her. “You okay?”

She nodded, unwilling to look directly at him. She really wasn’t a crazy woman. Maybe if she explained. “Braden ran right behind him.” Ross’s calm appraisal of her didn’t waver, so she knelt down to focus on her son. “You are
never
to go behind that horse.” Her voice carried the weight of maternal protectiveness. Only she knew how close she was to completely falling apart. “Do you understand? Chance could kick you, honey. He’s not like Sparky was.” Old faithful Sparky who’d barked and chased sticks and never minded Braden using her as a pillow or a wrestling partner.

Ross rested a hand on Braden’s head. He spoke to her son, but his eyes held hers with a quiet look. “Sometimes we’re afraid of what we don’t understand.” He glanced down at Braden. “How about we get to know your new horse?”

Ross sensed Braden’s embarrassment in the way the boy hung his head and dug his sneaker in the dirt once they stopped at the front of the trailer where Chance waited. Kyle looked like he wanted to walk the horse to the corral, but he kept staring at Sierra as if he wasn’t certain how she would react.

Keeping a steady arm around the boy’s shoulders, Ross bent so they were ear to ear, facing a large velvet Roman nose. Ross pointed with his left hand. “Chance deserves your respect and your full attention at all times.” He glanced sideways at the boy, whose eyes hadn’t lifted from the ground. “Like your mom said, you want to be cautious about running around behind him. He doesn’t have eyes back there, and if he gets startled he might kick.”

Ross sensed movement at his side.

Trevor and Emory had inched up next to him, and the little guy reached up to pet the gray nose. Better do some educating before any fingers got chomped.

The girl spoke first, disappointment in her voice. “He didn’t seem so old when we rode him the other day.”

Ross wiped a hand down the long nose that had dropped to sniff at the newcomers. “I hear he’s twenty-two years old, just getting into his golden years. But I don’t think he’s ready for a nursing home yet, do you?”

Emory didn’t look convinced. “Maybe.”

Ross caught Kyle’s eye and tried not to laugh. “He’s still got plenty of galloping left in him.” He’d stuck a baggie of apple slices in his pocket before leaving the house, and he pulled one out now and gave it to Chance. The thick lips with grandpa whiskers tickled his hand and grabbed the chunk of apple. Chance swung his head away and the deep, crunch, crunch of the strong molars seemed to intrigue the kids.