Read Leave It to Chance Online

Authors: Sherri Sand

Leave It to Chance (7 page)

He gave a short laugh. “Great. Just great, Sierra. Thanks.”

“It’s up to you, Michael. Not me.” She dropped her hand and stood, taking a step back. The car raced backward to the end of the driveway, then stopped, tiny motes of dust floated around the still tires. The car surged back up next to her.

Michael leaned out the window, the words blasting, “Did you buy a horse?”

She shook her head, rooted to the gravel, every muscle wanting to retreat. “No, I did not buy a horse,” she said simply.

Relief drained the anger. He whipped his head toward the back seat, the car easing slowly backward again. His voice floated out the window. “Braden, you better—”

Sierra rushed up to his open window. “But I have one.”

The car stopped, and Michael leaned his arm on top of the steering wheel. “What do you mean, you have one?”

“I inherited him.”

He shook his head and stared out the front windshield. “I can’t believe you’d let them have a horse. How can you even afford it? You’re living with your mother!”

“That’s not my doing, now is it?” Sierra said. “Besides, that horse is the best thing in their world right now.” And in that moment, seeing their three anxious faces in the backseat, she knew it was.

Chapter 8

Sierra walked back into the house with thoughtful steps. Dishes clinked, then a cupboard closed in the kitchen. The pain of childbirth was nothing like the ripping of her soul at seeing her kids anxious and hurt, pulled between two parents. Chance would be the oasis in their lives. If she could let him.

A chair scooted in the kitchen, then another. The table would be pristine once again. White doily in the middle anchored by two yellow candles and a white ceramic sugar bowl.

She’d always lived beneath her mom’s need for orderliness, yet there was something comforting about it. Sierra stopped at the living room bookcase filled with knickknacks and pictures that backed up against the outside wall of the kitchen. She paused in front of one small photo. Familiar, yet often unnoticed in the years of living. A picture of her dad a few months before he died.

What made her mom’s faith so strong? God hadn’t protected them, hadn’t kept her dad from dying when she was young. Her mom thought Sierra’s faith issues hinged on a lack of belief. But they didn’t. The belief was there. It was her trust that had big chunks missing. Gaping holes from her dad’s death, the death of her marriage, Molly’s accident. And those were just the personal ones. When she looked beyond her small world, she saw famine, tsunamis, murder, rape…. The list was endless, and so was her lack of trust.

Sierra passed through the living room with its blue floral couch and comfortable recliners situated neatly around an oak coffee table, amid a scattering of wicker baskets. In the kitchen, yellow gloves to her elbows, her mom scrubbed the stainless-steel sink free of potentially dangerous bacteria. Dishes too large for the dishwasher rested on the drying rack next to the sink. Her mom’s back was stiff and her profile set as she scrubbed away.

Sierra reached for the towel hanging from the stove handle and picked up a wet skillet. “Michael’s angry about the horse.”

The scouring pad kept its brisk pace at the bottom of the sink. “I heard.”

Sierra noted the kitchen window was cracked open.

“Are you keeping Chance, then?” her mother asked as she slid the dry skillet into its drawer below the oven.

“Mom, it’s not about keeping the horse. It’s what you did. To me.”

Her mom puffed the weary exhale of someone who’d been misunderstood. “I knew you’d blame me.”

“I’m not blaming you, it’s just that—”

Her mom twisted slightly, forearms resting on the edge of the sink, gloves dripping gray suds from the wire scouring pad. “You don’t see what’s best for the kids. If you’d only open your eyes, see their joy with that horse.”

“I know, Mom. I saw.”

“Do you realize how this divorce has torn them apart? How seeing you and Michael at odds creates such anxiety in them?”

Guilt coated her with each picture of her failure. “Yes, Mom. I do know.”

With a shake of her head, her mom turned back to the sink. “I just don’t understand how you can even consider selling him.” In a neutral voice she asked, “What does Elise say?”

Sierra wiped every trace of water off the vegetable steamer. Whenever there was a point of contention, it was like her mom slowly, inch by inch, pulled the rug out from under her life until Sierra stumbled and doubted. Elise’s agreement would give her mom one more reason to keep pulling.

Sierra set the steamer in the cupboard. “She said to keep him.”

Her mom made a tsking sound. “Well that certainly surprises me. For once she shows good sense.”

“I’m not selling the horse.”

Her mom gave a satisfied nod and rinsed the sink. “I think that’s for the best.”

Sierra slipped the dishtowel back over the oven door handle to dry and spoke the words to herself. “And if it’s not, I’ll be crying at my children’s funerals.”

Saturday evening, Sierra and her mom sat alone at the kitchen table and ate broiled halibut steaks and creamed peas in near silence. It was odd how much the presence of the kids defined her relationship with her mom.

“The fish is tasty. I hadn’t tried this recipe before.” Her mom cut a sliver off the remaining steak and lifted it to her plate. She took a bite and looked up. “Are you going to church tomorrow?”

“I hadn’t planned on it.” Almost involuntarily her gaze lifted to the pink list still taped to the fridge. Would her mom add church attendance to the bottom of The Motivator?

Her mom chewed slowly, then swallowed. “When were you planning to get back into fellowship?”

“I’m not really sure.” Sierra dropped her eyes to the roll she was buttering, noting the line of dirt under her fingernails from helping her mom mulch the flower beds that afternoon.

The crow’s-feet appeared. “The kids need spiritual training, honey. Sunday school is vital at their age.”

Her mom was tugging at the rug again. How had spiritual training helped her and her brother, Win? She was divorced, and Win was a rootless wanderer with his own trust issues.

A frown darkened her mom’s face. “It’s not like they’re getting it over
there
.”

And what about
your
unforgiveness toward Michael?
she wanted to ask. Had her mom missed that lesson in spiritual training? But Sierra kept her eyes on her plate. They’d had too many conversations regarding her ex-husband. One more wouldn’t help.

“I’m sure you’re right, Mom.”

“I’m surprised Elise doesn’t ask you to go with her. I know she’s quite religious.”

The way her mom spoke of religion contrasted so starkly with what Sierra saw in Elise. Warmth without expectations. Joy. Respect for others to choose their path without judgment or censure. An easy acceptance of the differences between her and Sierra.

“She doesn’t push.” The thought floated out and Sierra cringed. She needed a lock over her mouth.

Her mom carefully set her fork down. “Because I care, now I’m pushy.” She aligned her knife next to the fork and gave Sierra a small smile. “I’ll back off, honey. I certainly don’t want to get in your way.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Her mom picked up her plate and carried it to the sink. “Sometimes we say exactly what we mean.”

Sierra put her elbow on the table and rubbed her forehead. And maybe she
had
said what she meant.

The covers rustled as Sierra rolled over and reached for her phone the next morning, speed-dialed the number, and settled back against her pillow.

A sleepy voice answered. “Hello?”

“Elise?”

Her friend yawned. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to catch you before you left for church.”

“Hon, I at least wait until the sun is up.”

“Funny. I think it’s just before eight.”

“Has He answered yet?”

“Who?”

“God.”

“Oh, that. It wasn’t really a
prayer
prayer.”

“Hon, He understands groans that words cannot express.”

Sierra smiled. Holy spirit Elise, in action. “Well, no one’s come knocking on the door offering me a job.”

Elise yawned again. “Not yet.”

“I need a favor.”

“And that would be?”

“Will you go with me to check on the horse after church today?”

Energy suffused her voice. “I’d
love
to! What are we checking?”

Sierra laughed. “I don’t know. But Aunty Elise, who thought it’d be so great for me to keep the horse, can check whatever it is that needs to be checked.”

“I didn’t say nuthin’ about helping. Moral support is my sole calling.”

“Well, you can ‘moral support’ your way through checking that horse.”

At twelve thirty, an ooga horn from the driveway announced that Elise had arrived.

Sierra grabbed her purse and locked the front door. Her mom was at an after-church women’s committee luncheon. She started down the front steps and laughed. Elise sat in the driver’s seat, top down on the Mazda, wrapped in a fur jacket with a rich maroon scarf covering her hair.

Elise peered over her black sunglasses. “What?”

“It’s October!”

“Hon, when the sun’s shining, you gotta live a little.”

Sierra climbed in. “Is the heater on?”

Elise started the car. “Full blast.” A few minutes later, they crept slowly up the gravel drive lined with oak trees. “Now wasn’t that lovely of God to stable your horse so close to home?” Elise saw God’s hand in everything. Sierra chose to love her in spite of the quirk.

“Um, that would be my mother who arranged that.”

Elise just smiled.

The Mazda passed the last fence post at the end of the drive, and Elise stopped the car. “Whoa! What a setting!”

Sierra took in the details of the scene she’d missed on her first shock-filled visit. The grounds surrounding the immaculate two-story farmhouse could have been lifted from a postcard. A pristine emerald lawn created the canvas for the stunning arrangement of decorative trees and shrubs artfully placed among the lattice arches, Grecian benches, and other garden décor. And not a stray weed edged the circular drive that passed in front of the house and around to the barn.

“Wow!” Elise turned a shining grin on her. “Whoever created that is an artist.”

“I think that would be Chance’s landlord.”

Elise’s eyes got big. “No!”

Sierra nodded once. “Yep. He’s a landscaper.”

“I’m getting chills.”

Sierra gave her a dry look. “That would be because the top is down.”

“Spoilsport.” Elise shifted back into first gear and motored toward the barn. She parked the car and shut it off. “So, what are we doing again?”

Sierra opened the door and climbed out. She kept pace with her friend, who walked gingerly, her maroon heels sinking into the damp earth as they made their way to the wire fence.

“Checking on Chance.” She hadn’t thought to ask what Ross meant until after his blue truck was rolling back down the driveway last Thursday afternoon.

“Define what we’re checking for. I can’t do any horse chasing in these shoes.”

“Lice? Ticks? To see that he doesn’t have four legs straight in the air? I don’t know.” Other than watching the horse graze in the field, she didn’t really see the point.

“Oh, there he is. What a sweetheart. Look at him, Sierra.” Elise glanced at her, sunshine in her smile. “Can we pet him?”

A hundred feet away, Chance plodded with slow, steady steps toward the fence. Toward them. Sierra shuddered. “No. He looks fine. Let’s go.”

She cooed. “Oh, look, he’s coming to visit.”

“Let’s go, Elise. I’m not kidding.”

Her friend turned. “Hon, look at his face. There’s not a mean bone in his body.”

Sierra eyed the thin squares of wire that separated them from the approaching mammoth creature. Thirty feet and still coming. Her knees turned to jelly and her breathing accelerated. She backed toward the car. “Elise, he’s—”

The crunch of gravel made her turn. There in denim jeans and a black T-shirt, giving her a slow smile, was her knight.

Ross didn’t stop until he reached Sierra. Her eyes clung to his with a hint of panic in them. The woman at the fence in the fur jacket waved at him, looking like she was having the time of her life. He grinned and waved back, then turned to the striking woman beside him, his voice low. “You’re looking highly anxious again.”

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked away. “It shows?”

“It crossed my mind that if I came up behind you and neighed really loud, I might see you climb the side of the barn there.” Her smile held embarrassment, and he was sorry he’d teased her.

She lifted a hand toward the pasture. “You said to check on the horse, so I thought if Elise came with me, it wouldn’t be so … I mean I could actually—so anyway, we’ve checked on Chance and he seems to be fine.” Her amber eyes caught his for a moment, then she dashed back to her friend. “We should probably go.”

Her friend called to them. “You guys need to come pet him. He is absolutely delicious.”

“She’s not going to eat him, is she?” he asked.

Sierra wrapped her coat tighter. “If wishes were horses …”

He stared and she gave a self-conscious laugh. “The old nursery rhyme. ‘If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.’ It’d solve one of my problems if she did eat him.”

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