Leigh Bale

The Forever Family


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charm left dowdy by years of neglect. Fruit trees surrounded the front yard with limbs void of leaves and covered with frost and icicles. Snowladen evergreens edged the long gravel driveway. The top of the fence line stood just visible above the blanket of snow.

      A classic winter scene.

      “There’s Uncle Sam’s place,” Charlie shot a finger toward a large, modern house about a quarter of a mile down the road.

      Slim colonnades lined the wraparound porch, supporting a pretty portico and balcony on the second story. The porch framed the first floor. The white clapboard and blue trim looked newly painted. A detached four-car garage painted the same color as the house sat nearby, along with spacious corrals.

      An enormous, shiny-roofed barn nestled in the small valley beside the pond brought Rachel awe. When she came here to visit Grammy just before Alex died, the house hadn’t been finished and Sam didn’t live here yet. This was where he planned to build his large animal hospital. Impressive, considering he’d built his home on land that used to belong to her grandparents. Rachel remembered a time when herds of grazing cattle and horses roamed these fields. She couldn’t begrudge Sam. It seemed fitting that he make use of the land he’d purchased from her grandmother.

      “Hey, Mom, we have a lake,” Danny exclaimed.

      She looked at the body of water nestled in the valley between her farmhouse and Sam’s place. A thin layer of ice had formed over its surface, the shore edged with tufts of frozen sedge grass, cattails, and tall elm trees. The tops of posts jutting above the snow showed where the small dock sat on the east side, close to Grammy’s farmhouse.

      “That’s not a lake,” Charlie laughed. “It’s a pond. In the summertime, ducks and geese nest along the shore. You should see the baby goslings. They’re so cute.”

      Rachel pointed at the dock, where a tall tree stood out over the water. A thin rope with a big, black tire hung from one sturdy branch. “I used to sit on the dock with a fishing line. Some of my happiest memories are of swinging on that tire before plunging into the water below. Grandpa always swam with me while Grammy laid out a picnic lunch for us to enjoy.”

      “You think we can fish there again?” Danny pressed his nose against the window.

      “I’m not sure. Grandpa seeded plump rainbow trout into the pond for that very purpose, but the fish might be all gone, now.”

      “Can we go ice skating?” Danny asked.

      “No!” The adults responded simultaneously.

      Sam looked in the rearview mirror. “You mustn’t ever go out on that ice, Danny. It’s not safe. You’d fall through. Okay?”

      Danny shot him a mutinous frown. “Okay.”

      Sam flashed Rachel a grin over the top of Gladys’s head and she couldn’t resist smiling back. At times, being with him felt so comfortable and normal. Like she and Danny actually belonged here.

      What a crazy notion.

      A distant look flashed in Sam’s eyes and he frowned, as if an unpleasant memory had surfaced. He looked away, his jaw tight.

      “I hope we’re not keeping you from something important,” Rachel said.

      “Of course not. Don’t be silly,” Gladys responded.

      Sam looked straight ahead. Rachel peered out the back window, checking the progress of her travel trailer as it sloshed through the slush.

      As they pulled into the yard at Grammy’s place, a large black Labrador came out of nowhere, barking. Sam parked the vehicle, and the noisy animal bounded toward Rachel’s side of the truck, jumping up to plant its front paws on the window. Rachel scooted back, gaping in horror at rows of sharp teeth and a damp, black nose. Even with the glass and metal of the door shielding her, memories of terror and pain swamped her. The dog barked over and over again. Rachel’s body ached with fear and a rush of panic caused her pulse to hammer in her ears. She felt as though her lungs might explode and dug her fingernails into the cloth seat.

      Oh, please! Don’t let me faint now.

      “Go away!” her voice squeaked.

      Sam opened his door and slid out of the truck. “It’s okay, Rachel. It’s my dog and I’ll take care of him. Wait here for a few minutes.”

      That suited Rachel fine.

      Sam clapped his hands, calling to the big dog. “Shadow! Come here, you mangy mongrel. Don’t you have any manners?”

      Gladys patted Rachel’s knee. “I don’t know why Shadow’s over here at your place. He should be home minding his business.”

      The dog bounded over and jumped up on Sam, growling playfully as the man rubbed the animal’s ears. From the backseat, Danny rested his hand on Rachel’s shoulder, his blue eyes creased with worry. “It’s okay, Mommy. Sam won’t let his dog hurt you.”

      Her son’s concern touched her heart. She didn’t fully understand her own phobia. She tried to tell herself everything was okay, yet she couldn’t seem to gain control over her anxiety.

      Sam pushed the dog away and pointed toward his place. “Go home, Shadow. Go!”

      The dog whined, then took off like a shot and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief.

      “There, everything’s fine now.” Gladys smiled.

      Sam came and opened Rachel’s door slow and careful. “You okay, now?”

      Her voice came out as a small, indistinguishable croak. Instead, she nodded, wishing he hadn’t seen visible proof of her fear.

      “Shadow won’t bother you again. Come on.” He reached to take her hand and guide her out of the truck. The little boys followed, scrambling into the yard.

      Rachel looked at the house. Peeling paint covered the white clapboard. The green trim appeared dull and faded. A shutter hung loose at an odd angle against the outside wall. Half of the picket fence had fallen over, buried in the depths of snow. The front windows stared back at them, black and vacant.

      Just like her heart.

      She waited beside Gladys while Sam used the plow blade on his front fender to clear the driveway. When he finished, he called to the boys who romped in the snow. “Let’s see if we can clear a path to the front door. I’ve got plenty of snow shovels, so I’ll expect you boys to help. Let’s get this place cleaned up.”

      Sam’s take-charge manner gave Rachel confidence. As the boys scrambled to help, Sam lifted three snow shovels out of the back. He handed one to each child. Rachel pulled on her gloves. “How can I help?”

      “I’m out of shovels. You and Gladys can supervise and let your injured arm heal. Once we clear a path to the house, you can go inside.”

      Rachel stood in the deep snow, her feet warm and snug in the boots Gladys had loaned her. The women waited as the boys and Sam bent their backs to the work. Sam shoveled snow away from the picket fence. His heavy thigh muscles flexed beneath his blue jeans as he cleared a wide path, revealing gravel and then the cement walkway leading up to the front porch. As he worked, his breath came out in little puffs. His lean cheeks reddened and he sniffed against the cold air. Occasionally, he glanced at his progress, then went back to work.

      Realizing she was staring, Rachel turned and went to the back of the truck and opened the travel trailer. With Gladys’s help, they sorted her things and stacked boxes.

      Within an hour, the boys had cleared all the walkways leading up and around the house, barn and tool shed.

      Danny wiped his red nose on the back of his coat sleeve. “Are we done yet?”

      Sam surveyed their work and nodded. “Yep! Good job, boys. You’ve earned some free time.”

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