Rachel Lee

A Conard County Homecoming


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Parish was older than the rest by a little over a decade, but she had fit seamlessly with them. The mother of three as well as a sheriff’s deputy, she had her hands full and she swore the Saturday get-togethers were a lifeline.

      Marisa Tremaine had been widowed a few years ago, and now was married to her late husband’s best friend, who also happened to be a good friend of Julie’s husband.

      Ashley sat as the lone spinster among them and she was quite happy with her lot, thank you very much. She honestly couldn’t imagine how she would handle the addition of a family to her already busy life.

      “So Nora and Hope couldn’t make it?” Ashley asked about two of their other kaffeeklatsch regulars.

      “Getting ready for the fund-raiser tonight. Hope must be out of her mind. She promised ten dozen cookies. And Nora is bringing five pies.”

      “Wow.” Ashley blinked. She felt like a skinflint with her offering of a few dozen rum balls.

      “We’re getting there,” Julie said. “With the bake sale tonight and the donations, I bet we come close to our mark for that wheelchair.”

      “I hope so,” Connie remarked. “I was blown away by the price of those things. It’s not like you’re buying some toy for your amusement. It’s essential.”

      Ashley answered, “And it has to be able to do more, like change his position so he doesn’t get sores and lift him so his mother can help him get into bed. It’s not your basic model.”

      The women sat silent for a moment, and Ashley guessed those with children were imagining themselves in the shoes of Mikey’s mom.

      Then Julie visibly shook herself. “We’re close. And Trace’s friend Ken is working on a tablet to attach so Mikey can do a lot of things simply by using his chin on a push plate. I have half a mind to wrap that chair in aluminum foil and put NASA stickers down its side. It’s going to be halfway to a spaceship.”

      That leavened the moment. Soon laughter returned and stories about everyone’s kids began to be shared. Ashley never ceased to be amazed by the inventive hijinks kids could get up to. She didn’t see a lot of that in the classroom, where they were usually on their best behavior...or what passed for it.

      She went inside to get a fresh pot of coffee and warm up her friends’ mugs. When she stepped outside, Nell was standing there, wearing her saddlebag.

      “So you have a secret admirer,” Julie joked. “Whose dog?”

      “Zane’s. I guess he sent something over. Nell is a service dog.”

      “Oh, wow, wouldn’t Mikey like that,” said Connie.

      “I’m trying to persuade Zane to work with Cadell on the kinds of things Mikey might need. Or at least I mentioned it.”

      Curious, she passed the coffeepot to Marisa and let her pour for everyone. Opening the saddlebag was easy enough; it wasn’t snapped closed. Inside she found an envelope addressed to her.

      A message from Zane? Surprised, she dropped onto her chair and opened the flap of the envelope. Inside a brief note was wrapped around a check: “For the wheelchair.”

      Not even signed, but when she looked at the check, she gasped and her heart slammed. “Good heavens!”

      “What?” the other women demanded.

      She looked up. “Zane just sent a check for five hundred dollars for Mikey’s chair.”

      A chorus of exclamations greeted that news. In a moment everyone was talking at once. This brought them a long way toward their goal and doubled what they had expected to make from the bake sale at the church.

      The check was made out to Ashley, probably because Zane didn’t know the name for the fund-raising group, but as she held it, her resistance to Zane and his attitude melted away. It was a generous act, very generous, and a trusting one. He clearly had no doubt she would put the money where it was intended to go.

      Wow.

      But Nell still sat in front of her, looking up as if her mission wasn’t complete. Ashley jumped up, saying, “Stay, Nell,” and went inside. She tucked the check in her wallet, then pulled open the drawer where she kept writing materials for rare occasions when a handwritten note was needed.

      On a notecard that said Thank You on the front, she wrote, “We are all so very grateful for your generosity, Zane. This will go a huge way to getting Mikey his chair. We can’t thank you enough.”

      She signed her name and the name of the group, then stuffed it in an envelope with his name on the front.

      Outside, Nell still waited patiently. Ashley lifted the flap of the saddlebag and tucked the note into it. She gave Nell a scratch behind her ears, then said, “Take it to Zane, Nell.”

      Tail wagging, the dog was off like a flash.

      All heads turned to follow the dog as she dashed across the yard, leaped onto the ramp and disappeared inside.

      “Wow,” said Julie.

      “Wow,” agreed Connie.

      “We’ve got to get Mikey a dog like that,” Marisa said.

      “Next step,” said Connie. “I think trained service dogs are nearly as expensive as the wheelchair.”

      “It doesn’t matter,” Ashley said. “I was talking to Dory and Cadell last week. He’s working on training a dog already, and Dory said she’d meet any expenses on that.”

      Marisa nodded. “And she made a large contribution to the wheelchair fund. She’s serious about helping.”

      Marisa stood up. “This has been fun, gals, but Ryker is probably desperate for some relief. Jonni’s going through a difficult stage. I think no is the only word she doesn’t understand.”

      “And I need to get my daily walk in,” said Julie.

      Soon everyone had said their goodbyes and left, and the porch was empty of everyone except Ashley. The afternoon was beginning to cool a bit, and she thought idly about getting her jacket or just going inside. She had time before the bake sale tonight.

      She closed her eyes, enjoying the fresh air, full now of the scents of autumn. Then something bumped her knee.

      Her eyes flew open, and she saw Nell sitting in front of her. No saddlebag this time.

      “What are you doing here?” she asked the dog.

      Her answer was a doggie grin and a tail wag.

      Then she heard Zane call, “Dang it, Nell, what are you doing?”

      She looked over to the house next door and saw Zane sitting on his porch. “You didn’t send her?”

      “I absolutely did not, and she’s never supposed to leave me unless I tell her to go. Now look at her.”

      “Are you blaming me?” Because that’s what it sounded like.

      “Hell, no. But that dog thinks for herself, and I can’t imagine what she’s thinking now. Nell, come.”

      Nell started to rise then sat down again.

      “Nell,” Ashley tried, “you need to go to Zane.”

      Nell looked over at Zane.

      “Go on,” Ashley urged.

      “Nell, come,” Zane repeated.

      With something that sounded very much like a sigh, Nell rose and trotted back over to Zane.

      “That was weird,” he said. “She’s never done that before.”

      “Well, I swear I’m not encouraging it. I didn’t even give her a treat of any kind.”

      “I’m sure you did nothing wrong,” he answered. “She just took a notion. If this happens again, she may