Chet: Hidden in the Heart

Chet

Hidden in the Heart

by Larry Murray

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2015 by Larry Murray

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

Published by

Sandy Cedars Publishing

791 E 1550 N

Shelley, Idaho 83274.

Smashwords Edition

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Publisher’s Note

Author’s Note

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Books by Larry Murray

Chapter 1

April 7, 2005

Charles Tucker sat on the edge of his bed, grimacing as he kneaded the muscles in his aching leg. He was dressed only in his underwear, since he had already turned in for the night some hours ago. His work-calloused hands continued their massage, trying in vain to ease the pain brought on by his overexertion.

Fifteen weeks ago his leg had been crushed in a traffic accident, shattering the bone so extensively that it had taken hours for the surgeons to put it back together. The pale red tracery of fresh scar tissue stretching from hip to ankle attested to how severely the leg had been damaged and how invasive the surgery had been.

Charles shook his head. I guess it's a little too soon to be walking around without my crutches. I figured after two weeks of doing chores, especially with the exo brace for support, I could get away with it. I should've known better than to try carrying the milkers from the milking parlor to the wash tub.

He gingerly stretched out his leg and his protesting muscles twinged, ratcheting up the pressure on the newly mended leg. The ache was bone deep and it throbbed from his foot all the way up through his hip. Charles old boy, you've done it now. You were progressing just fine, even if it was coming along slower than you wanted. Now instead of hastening your recovery, you've likely set yourself back. With just over five weeks until David's driver's ed class starts, you can't afford to be making mistakes like this. You've given your word to that boy that you'll cover the chores while he's in class. At this rate you won't be able to leave the house, let alone take over the milking.

Charles doggedly continued to knead his leg, even though it seemed to be having no effect on the pain. "The worst part of the whole thing is I can't admit to anyone that I've pushed too hard. I can only imagine the scorching 'I told you so,' Julie would give me if she were to find out. She'd never let me live it down."

He winced as his leg spasmed. What I really need is a soak in a hot tub. Only problem is, I've given my word to Julie I wouldn't try getting in and out of the bathtub unless she or David are in the house. It would be just my luck to have this old leg give out while climbing into the tub and have it dump me on my rump, or worse yet on my head. Seeing as it's after midnight, and we all have to be up to do chores in a few more hours, I'm not going to call and drag her or David out of bed just so I can get a hot soak. Besides, I think a late-night bath might just give away the fact that I've overdone it.

Charles levered himself erect on his crutches and stumped his way to the kitchen. Pulling a bottle of aspirin from the cupboard, he twisted off the lid and shook two tablets into his palm. As a general rule I don't take aspirin, but I think tonight I'll make an exception. I've been in bed better than two hours already, and I'm afraid if I don't do something I'll never get any sleep.

He popped the pills into his mouth and washed them down with a swallow of water. Leaning heavily on his crutches, he made his way to his bedroom and crawled back into bed, pulling the sheet and blanket up over his chest. Shifting his leg in an effort to find a more comfortable position, he set his teeth against the pain and willed his mind to empty itself.

The command was more easily given than obeyed, and his mind wandered back over the past six months since the Saunders family had entered his life. After three decades of self-imposed solitude, Charles had unconsciously relaxed his guard. His relationship with his long time neighbors had settled into a well practiced routine in which they no longer attempted to actually get close to such a withdrawn and lonely old man. They had their own lives to live, and Charles was more than willing to let them as long as they allowed him the same freedom.

But almost before he knew it had happened, David Saunders had slipped past his barriers and into his life. His younger sister, Kristyn, had squirmed her way in while Charles had been preoccupied with her brother. A short time later, their mother had eased her way through his faltering defenses. Here in the privacy of his own thoughts, he could admit that he had been charmed by Julie's beauty and challenged by her sharp mind and quick wit.

What he couldn't figure out with any degree of certainty was how to define the relationship as it currently existed, nor did he have any idea where it might be headed. I love all three of them, and frankly I can't imagine loving David and Kristyn any more if they were my own children. But that's just it, while they are young enough to be my grandchildren, somehow I can't seem to think of them that way. Maybe it's because David is so close to the age Jason was when I lost him. Maybe my heart stopped aging when Jason died, and has been waiting all these years to be able to finish raising a son. Now in Kristyn I have a beautiful daughter as well, something Emily and I were never able to give each other.

At the thought of his wife, Charles' mind shied away from his feelings for Julie. Shaking his head, he forced himself to confront the jumble of emotions that surrounded the honey-blond haired woman who had been such a big part of turning his world upside down.

She's younger than Jason would have been had he lived. Not only is she twenty-nine years younger than me, she's married to a man who for all intents and purposes is my business partner. Of course, for that matter she's my business partner as well. How in the world have I allowed these mixed up feelings to develop? What's more, what am I going to do about them?

I wouldn't dare pursue my feelings, especially while she's married, and even more so since I have no idea whether or not she has those kinds of feelings about me. No—she can't have those kinds of feelings towards me. She's married. Besides, it wouldn't be right to do anything that would encourage her to end her marriage with Mark. Granted, he has treated her like dirt, and most of the time I wouldn't give a plug nickel for a dozen men just like him, but there must be more to him than I recognize. If he wasn't a decent person, someone like Julie never would have married him in the first place.

It would all be so much easier if I could think of Julie as my daughter. If I could manage that, then it would be no problem to think of David and Kristyn as my grandchildren. But then again, if I'm going to wish for things that could never be, I might just as well wish that Jason had never died in the first place. Or wish that Emily had never gotten cancer, and that together we'd had a houseful of children. On the other hand, if God hadn't called Jason and Emily home, I'd have never met Julie and her children, and Chet would have never come into my life. All I can do is trust that He knows what's best for Charles Tucker, and that in the end that's exactly what I'm going to get.

Charles' thoughts trailed off as he concentrated on his breathing, forcing himself to take deep, even breaths. As the rhythm of his breathing became more automatic, the pain in his leg grew more distant and his mind began to edge toward the soft empty haze that came just before sleep claimed him. Whatever else I do, I'm definitely going to have to be more careful with my recovery. Another bout or two like this and I won't be in any condition to fulfill my promise to David. The fleeting thought filled him with renewed determination as he drifted into the welcome embrace of dreamless sleep.

Chapter 2

The endless snows of winter had given way to the unsettled weather typical of springtime in Idaho, and Charles awoke to the sound of rain pelting the roof of his home. His leg was still hurting too much to bear any weight and the abused muscles remained knotted and tense.

By the time he had massaged Bengay into the more severely knotted muscles, he was running late. With how gingerly he had to move to keep the discomfort bearable, he fell even further behind his normal schedule. With his breakfast behind him, and finally bundled in his chore clothes, Charles left his house and made his way through the cold rain towards the cinderblock dairy barn.

The lights are already on, and in fact, I think I can hear the vacuum pump running. If that's the case, David has already started milking and I haven't even dragged myself in the door. What kind of an example is that, Charles?

Arriving at the barn, Charles opened the door and stepped into the gleaming tank room. His senses were assailed with the familiar smell of disinfectant and the harsh light of the two-hundred-watt incandescent bulb hanging from the porcelain socket in the middle of the ceiling. Julie and Kristyn were bent over the line of calf bottles, mixing up the milk replacer that was the main ingredient of the baby calves' diet.

Kristyn looked up at the sound of the door closing and waved a greeting. Charles smiled and returned her greeting with a wave of his own. Julie snapped a rubber nipple in place on one of the bottles and pointedly consulted her watch. When she lifted her gaze, Charles felt like a particularly interesting insect that had been pinned to a specimen board.

I hate to say it, Charles,—Julie's soprano voice carried above the hiss and chatter of the milking equipment—but your extra beauty sleep doesn't seem to have helped much this morning. You look worse than you did last night. Did you get any sleep at all?

Plenty, thank you, Charles growled. Unlike some, I've reached the point in my life where it takes more than sleep to overcome my natural appearance.

Julie's eyes glittered with an emotion Charles couldn't identify, and his cheeks warmed as she watched him cross the floor, leaning far too heavily on his crutches.

She laid her hand lightly on his forearm and cocked her head to the side. Your leg's hurting pretty badly this morning, isn't it?

Charles shrugged. It's been worse, but yes, it's protesting.

You know you don't have to be here for every milking, don't you? It won't do any of us any good if you push yourself too hard and wind up relapsing.

I'm being careful, but what kind of an example would it be if I didn't do the best I can?

Julie's gaze flicked to her daughter before returning to Charles' face. I understand your point, but I think you need to dial back your expectations just a bit. I don't know if your promise to David was hasty or not, but I do know you won't be able to keep it if you push too hard and wind up back in the hospital.

Charles harrumphed. I'm not going to wind up back in the hospital. I just need to pace myself.

Exasperation flashed across her face as Julie shook her head. Unless 'pace myself,' means slow down and use some common sense, you could very easily wind up back in the hospital. If you'll remember, I was your acting medical representative, and I have a pretty good understanding of what the doctors have told you over the past three months. I'm pretty sure that none of your previous medical staff will be very happy to see a grumpy Charles Tucker being wheeled back through the hospital doors.

That's a pretty safe bet. Fact is, I'm not sure the hospital would allow me back in after our previous disagreement.

You never know,—Julie shrugged—you might live long enough that all of the administrators, and doctors and nurses retire. If they do, there will be no institutional memory left. That being the case, if the new medical staff somehow forgets to check your medical records, they just might let you through the doors and treat you.

That's not very encouraging.

It's not supposed to be. It's meant to shake you up enough that you'll see reason. You're well on the road to recovery, and you should keep getting stronger as long as you don't do something stupid, like pushing yourself too hard.

Charles turned to Kristyn. Has your mother always been so bossy?

Kristyn shrugged.

Charles rested his hand on the girl's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you in an awkward position. I know you can't say what you really think, or your mother might cut off your cookie supply." Charles gave Kristyn an exaggerated wink.

Kristyn squared her shoulders. No, Mom's right. I don't want you to go back to the hospital.

Charles raised his eyebrow. What? You've turned on me as well?

Common sense runs pretty deep in the Saunders family, Julie quipped. If you want to find out how deep, feel free to ask David what he thinks.

Charles shook his head, I think I'll quit while I'm ahead. A man needs to have some shred of dignity, even if it's only in his imagination.

Kristyn stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Charles in a fierce hug. I like it better when you're here, even if you have to walk with crutches.

Charles patted Kristyn's back and had to clear his throat before he could speak. OK, you win. I'll be more careful.

That's the spirit! Julie smiled. Now how about you head into the milking parlor where David can keep an eye on you, while Kristyn and I go take care of the calves.

Charles sighed. I think you're enjoying bossing me around just a little too much.

No, Julie corrected, her eyes twinkling. "I'm enjoying it way too much."

***

Charles sank down on the kitchen chair with a barely contained groan, and, under Julie's watchful eyes, stretched out his left leg. He motioned to a chair.

I can't stay long. Things are actually picking up with the retail sales, and I need to get home to my baking.

What can I do to help? A small grimace twisted Charles' face as he shifted his leg.

For starters, you can go put a robe on so I can look at that leg.

Charles eyed her warily. That's not necessary, Julie.

I think it is, Charles, especially with the way you're trying to keep it hidden from me.

I just think a man should be allowed to retain a shred of dignity.

Quit being a baby, the robe will protect your modesty. Now are you going to get changed on your own, or do I have shift over to mommy mode?

I think I let Kristyn off a bit too easily this morning. Sometimes you really are bossy.

Sometimes that's what it takes to get people to do what's best for them.

Charles snorted, I can't begin to count the number of times that excuse has been used as the justification for usurping people's rights.

I'm not usurping your rights, Charles, and you know it. You're simply too stubborn to take proper care of yourself, and if getting bossy is the only way to get you to listen to reason, then I'm more than happy to take control.

Can I offer you anything? Maybe a cup of hot chocolate to keep you occupied?

No Charles, I think I can keep myself occupied for the few moments it should take for you to get into your robe. Besides, I really do need to get started baking.

Charles pulled himself up on his crutches. You're welcome to head home to your kitchen at any time.

Julie pointed towards his bedroom and waggled her finger. No more stalling.

Charles stumped to his bedroom and closed the door. Balancing on his good leg, he shrugged into his robe. Moving to the edge of his bed, he removed his shoes, unfastened the exo brace, and started on his pants. The tricky part was getting his pants off over the swollen leg. Groaning at the pain as he worked the pants leg down, his eyebrows rose in surprise. Julie's going to have my hide for this. It's not even fair, it's not like it was this swollen before I went out to do chores this morning.

Finally free of his jeans, Charles folded them and tossed them on the corner of his bed. Tying the sash of his robe, he squared his shoulders. I just as well go take my medicine. Delaying won't make it one bit easier.

Charles Tucker, you silly stubborn man! Just how long did you intend to ignore this?

Charles winced at the shrill tone and volume of Julie's voice, not to mention the pain as she probed his swollen leg.

Believe me, I haven't been ignoring it. I just didn't think it was that big a deal.

Not that big a deal? I swear, Charles, if it swells much more the skin's going to split.

It's more swollen than when I got out of bed this morning, but I think your exaggerating a bit.

Julie shook her head. If I am, it's not by much. I really am worried about this Charles. I think we need to take you to the hospital to have this looked at.

Now let's not go jumping to any hasty decisions. There's no discoloration, so it's not like we have to worry about infection or anything. I'm betting if I take a hot bath and elevate it for a few hours it will be just fine.

No, putting heat on it is not going to help the swelling, although elevating it might do some good. But that's all beside the point. How do we know you haven't reinjured it? You could have re-broken the bone or something.

I don't think so. Admittedly the bone is aching, but I think that's the result of overstressed muscles and the tension they're exerting on the bone. The pain's too general. If I'd broken the bone I think it would be a lot more focused.

Julie placed her hands on her hips, and her eyes flashed as she looked Charles up and down. What am I going to do with you? I clearly can't trust you to stay off your leg. If I leave you here you're going to find a thousand and one reasons to get up and putter around. Getting lunch, going to the bathroom, adding a blanket because you're too cold, then taking it off because you're too hot.

I may have to get up to go to the bathroom, Charles deadpanned, but I think the rest of your accusations are a bit overstated.

Julie stamped her foot. You are not taking this seriously. I can't stay here to take care of you and bake cookies at the same time. You know how thin I'm spread, and I simply don't need another ball that I suddenly have to keep in the air along with everything else I'm juggling. If I'd realized how bad off you were, I would have kept David home from school for the day.

Charles shook his head. No, we both know you're not going to have David miss school just to look after me. I don't need a keeper that badly.

The only other thing I can think to do is take you home with me. At least that way I can try to take care of your needs around my baking.

Look Julie, I'm sorry I've overdone it, and I'm sorry to have put us in this situation. I honestly think I just need to take it easy for a while. I'll stay down as much as I can, and I'll keep the leg elevated. We can look at it this afternoon when you and the kids come back to help with the evening chores.

To do the evening chores, Julie corrected. Until this leg recovers, you're not going to be making any more visits to the barn.

We can talk about what I will and won't be doi—

This is not negotiable, Charles. Based on the condition of this leg, you're obviously not thinking straight enough to be making your own decisions. We do this my way!

Charles silently counted to ten, grappling with the angry retort that had come all too easily to his mind. Very well. Until the swelling goes down, you get an extra vote on what I can and can't do. Fair enough?

Rebellion flashed in Julie's brown eyes, but she finally nodded. Speaking of what you can and can't do, what are you going to do to keep yourself occupied, assuming I decide you can be trusted enough to be left on your own? I know you're not going to be content taking a nap for the rest of the day, and the nurses all told me that TV bores you to tears.

I guess I could always work on my carving.

That might work. Julie tapped her finger against her cheek. If I tuck you in bed, prepare something for your lunch and stick it in the refrigerator, can I trust you to stay in bed? You promise you'll only get up for bathroom breaks and to bring your lunch back to bed?

I may need to get an occasional drink.

I'll leave a pitcher of water at your bedside.

Charles nodded. I promise, I'll stay down and work on my carving.

I hope you really mean it Charles, because if this doesn't work, or if I find out you've been up beyond what we've agreed to, either you'll be moving into my house or the children and I will be moving in here. I just don't see any other way to take care of you and to keep our business running at the same time.

Charles swallowed. This is exactly the kind of behavior that I can't wrap my mind around. I can't imagine a daughter talking to her father this way. Fact is, this is exactly the way I remember Emily being when she laid down the law. Julie's not my wife, in fact, she's married to someone else, but right now she's acting all too much like she is my wife. I've spent thirty years without a woman in my life, and I'm in no state to deal with one who's so all-fired certain she knows what's best for me.

Julie's tapping foot drew Charles from his reverie. Her eyebrows had risen halfway up her forehead. Spill it, buster. You've been quiet for far too long. Just exactly what are you thinking about?

I, umm—I have no intention of disrupting our lives any more than I already have. I'm sorry for the way my actions have complicated things. I've already promised to stay down, and I will. I'll keep my leg elevated, and we'll see how it progresses by the time you come back this afternoon.

See, that wasn't so hard. I knew you could be persuaded to see reason if you'd just allow yourself to face the facts.

The next half hour passed in a flurry of activity. Julie settled him into bed, propped in a sitting position with his leg elevated. She spread an old sheet over his lap and brought him his partially carved juniper block, along with his pocketknife and sharpening stone. She then prepared a simple lunch, consisting of a tuna fish sandwich, some baby carrots, and potato chips, packed in a bag so he could carry it back to bed even while using his crutches.

Satisfying herself that he was settled as comfortably as she could arrange, and extracting a final promise that he would behave himself, Julie left the house. She was headed home to face a day of baking cookies to fill the standing order from Live Well, along with whatever retail orders had come in over the past eighteen hours.

As promised, other than a couple of bathroom breaks and a trip to retrieve his lunch, Charles spent the next six hours confined to his bed. He whiled away the hours removing a sliver of wood here, a curl of wood there, pushing ever deeper towards the heart of the fragrant block of wood. As the hours passed, the eagle's right foot began to emerge. Its foot rested atop the branch upon which it perched, its talons following the upper curve of the branch as the wood was removed to reveal them. The appendage was still rough, but in his mind's eye Charles could see the fine detail hidden just below the thin veneer of wood that remained. As much as I'd like to go after the finishing touches, I think it would be wiser to rough in the entire sculpture before I get too carried away with the fine detail.

Charles laid his pocketknife on the bed and lifted the carving, brushing a few stray wood chips from its surface. I think it may be time to leave the feet for a while. I need to rough in the head and wings. The eagle's stance is going to have a direct impact on how it stands on its perch. I need to figure out how its body is positioned before I go any further.

Picking up his pocketknife, Charles commenced removing the wood from what countless hours of study had finally determined would be the top of his carving. I've always split wood from the bottom side in order to take advantage of the inherent weakness in the way a tree grows. Is it just a strange coincidence that the top of my eagle was actually the bottom of the tree?

Charles was still musing on his question when he heard the kitchen door open and moments later Julie walked into his bedroom, Kristyn following closely on her heels. Glancing at his watch, he was surprised to see it was a quarter after four. My goodness, where did the day go?

It was eaten up baking twelve dozen cookies, along with boxing and shipping them and ten wheels of mozzarella to Live Well. Other than that, the only thing I can think of was lying on the couch, watching TV and eating bonbons.

Charles raised one eyebrow.

Julie shrugged. I said I thought of it, I didn't say I did it.

Maybe not directly, but you certainly inferred it.

I'm too tired to fence with you this afternoon Charles. How about you just tell me how you're feeling?

I'm actually feeling pretty good. I got so engrossed in my carving that I haven't given much thought to my leg.

That sounds promising. If you'll make sure you're covered, Kristyn and I will take a look.

Charles' eyebrow rose, his eyes flicking to Kristyn and back to Julie.

I'm not sure it's a good idea either, Julie responded. Kristyn seems to think she needs to give a second opinion on whether or not you're fit for duty.

Charles shook his head in resignation. Give me a few moments. He raised the sheet and repositioned his robe, then nodded.

Julie peeled back the blanket and sheet, exposing his legs. Bending over for a closer look, she inspected his leg, probing gently as she did so.

Charles' eyes never left Kristyn. As the blanket was pulled back, her eyes grew wide and the color drained from her face.

If it's making you sick you can look away. I don't want you throwing up.

Kristyn's eyes turned to Charles and then back to his leg.

Does it hurt a lot? It looks like it does.

It actually looks worse than it feels.

Julie turned skeptical eyes on Charles.

Well, it does. Charles insisted. At least at the moment. It's feeling a lot better than it did this morning.

Julie beckoned Kristyn forward. Take a good look. Do you think Charles should be allowed to walk on this, even if it is to help us with the chores?

Can I touch it? Kristyn asked in a small voice.

If you think you need to in order to make a proper diagnosis, Charles responded.

Kristyn extended a single finger and pressed against the skin, being careful to avoid the raw red lines traced in his flesh.

It feels hard, like pushing on a grape.

Precisely, Julie agreed. It's still swollen, although I don't think it's quite as bad as it was this morning.

So, Charles asked, since it's improved, does that mean I can help with the chores?

Not even close, Julie responded. Unless I'm seriously mistaken, your foot is swollen several times too large to fit in your shoe.

Charles gave his foot a dubious look. It might be a rather tight fit at that. Turning to Kristyn, he pressed on. What's your opinion? Do you think I should be banned from the barn for the evening?

I think it looks yucky, Kristyn responded with a shudder.

So that's your professional opinion? Charles asked.

Kristyn nodded sharply.

Charles turned pleading eyes on Julie.

Don't look at me that way. I happen to agree with Kristyn. It does look yucky, even if it looks somewhat better than it did this morning.

So how long are you two going to try to keep me confined to bed?

Julie tapped her cheek. I'll tell you what, keep your leg elevated until that foot of yours shrinks down to its normal size. When we can get your shoe on without having to tug and pull, then we'll talk about letting you return to light duty.

Charles nodded. That sounds reasonable. After all, it's not like I'm going to want to try doing chores barefoot.

Julie cocked her head, narrowing her eyes.

I think you agreed to that just a little too readily. You wouldn't be thinking of putting your shoe on in an effort to help force the swelling to go down, would you?

Charles pointed at his chest. Me? he asked in his most innocent voice.

You. Julie turned to Kristyn. I have a little job for you before we head out to do chores. While I whip up a snack for Charles, I want you to pick up every left shoe in this bedroom as well as on the back porch. Don't forget to go through the closet. We'll put them all in a bag and take them home with us for a day or two.

What? You don't trust me?

Of course we trust you. We're just wanting to remove any unnecessary temptation from your life.

Charles huffed and turned to Kristyn.

If you're going to take my shoes, at least take both of my Sunday shoes and polish them before you bring them back. That way they'll be ready for me when it's time to go to church on Sunday.

Kristyn turned to her mother.

Julie nodded. By all means, take both of his Sunday shoes. Since they'll be the easiest to get on his feet, the least we can do is polish them up while we have them.

You really don't trust me, Charles observed. If you take all of my shoes, how are you going to know when it's time to bring them back so I can try them on and prove that the swelling has gone down enough that I can wear them?

I'll just compare your feet. When the left one has shrunk to the size of your right one, I'll know it's time to bring your shoes back.

And just how accurately are you going to be able to judge the relative size of my feet?

Pretty accurately, Julie smiled sweetly, and the better you behave, the more accurate my judgment is likely to be.

Chapter 3

David was worried. The next day would mark four weeks since Charles had come home from the hospital. Instead of things getting easier in his life, they were actually getting more complicated than they had been before. It was bad enough during the winter, with new snow falling every week or so, and in some cases every few days. I spent a lot of time moving snow around so as to keep everything accessible. Now the snow has turned to rain and it's melting the snow on the ground and turning the corrals into a half-thawed lake of manure.

As he had done for the past several months, David had spent part of the previous Saturday splitting a load of firewood and hauling it home to heat their house. In spite of the fact that the weather was warming, it was still too cold to go without any heat at all. With daytime temperatures reaching into the fifties and lower sixties, a fire in the morning was sufficient to take the chill off until the heat from Julie's baking warmed things up enough to make the house livable. With nighttime temperatures dipping into the lower thirties, another fire in the evening, banked to last well into the night, kept the house warm enough for comfortable sleeping.

Fortunately, the moderating temperatures meant that his family was burning far less firewood, and therefore a single load of wood was more than enough to last for a full week. It was fortunate, because most of the rest of his Saturday had been spent trying to deal with the snow and manure that was overwhelming the corral.

It's a good thing Charles explained so thoroughly about how to scrape the corral without getting off the concrete and into the swale. Even with four-wheel drive, I'm not sure I would have ever gotten the tractor out of the muck if I'd slid off the concrete.

In spite of having scraped for most of the day, the cows were still struggling as they moved about the corral, at times sinking above their knees in the melting snow and manure. As a result, the cows were dirtier than normal, and cleaning them for milking was taking longer than usual. At least Charles figures the worst of it will be over within a few more weeks, when the rain stops and the snow is finally melted. He says I'll learn to be grateful for the moisture, but right now I'm really looking forward to having things dry out.

In addition to the increased workload, the thing that was really bothering David was the lack of progress Charles was making in regard to getting back to being able to pick up his share of the milking and other chores. Today is Monday, and Charles has been down since last Friday. Mom says his leg is getting better, but I'm not sure what that means. He was still bad enough yesterday that he not only missed the chores but he stayed home from church as well. At this rate, I'm not at all sure I'm going to be able to start driver's ed with the next class. If I miss the May class, we'll be into summer. There will be no way I'll have the time to take the class with all the summer work. That will mean I'll have to wait clear until next fall before I can take driver's ed and start driving legally. That would really suck.

David shifted in his seat, glancing out the window of the school bus. We're almost to the school. Time to quit worrying about everything at home and start concentrating on school. The way work is piling up, I can't afford to get behind in my schoolwork.

***

It's looking better, Julie commented as she gently prodded Charles' leg. Is it feeling better as well?

What answer is most likely to get me my shoes back?

The honest one, of course.

Charles' eyebrow rose. I always give the honest answer, and so far it doesn't seem to have had one bit of effect on your opinion of whether or not I'm recovered enough to get back on my feet.

There you go exaggerating again.

Charles harrumphed. And just how do you figure I'm exaggerating? You're the one that confined me to bed.

Fixing him with a stern look, Julie waggled her finger. If I had confined you to bed you would be using a bedpan and having your meals served in bed. I haven't been emptying your bedpan nor have I been bringing you breakfast, lunch, and supper, in bed.

The next best thing, Charles growled. You've only allowed me to get up to go to the bathroom and to retrieve my lunch from the refrigerator. As for breakfast and supper, most of the time you've brought them to my bed. I think you're splitting hairs in your denial.

Julie cocked her head, her eyes twinkling. Maybe you're right. I do seem to remember eliciting a promise that you'd start behaving yourself, at least long enough for your leg to recover and start healing again.

And? Charles prompted, his eyebrow rising.

And as much as it pains me to admit it, it looks like you've been a reasonably good boy. I think your leg is good enough that you can start getting up and doing some light exercise. Maybe get your own meals and even wash your own dishes for a change.

Now you just hold on a minute. If you hadn't threatened me, I'd have been getting my own meals and washing my own dishes all along.

Come now Charles, a petite lady such as myself, how could I have threatened a big strong man like you?

I have a pretty clear memory of you and Kristyn taking my shoes and saying you wouldn't give them back if I didn't do what you told me to do.

You poor, put-upon soul. You really expect me to believe that you couldn't hang onto your shoes in the face of two girls? Surely you could have chased us down and kept us from taking your shoes.

I'd have been hard pressed to chase down a turtle, Charles admitted with obvious reluctance. "Still, in the last couple of days I'm pretty sure I could have done more than you seem to think I could have done."

Maybe so—Julie shrugged—but that doesn't mean it would have been the smart thing to let you try. I'm as anxious as you are to see you back on your feet.

I rather doubt that.

I just happen to think you'll get on your feet more quickly, and will be able to stay there more permanently, if you take things a bit easier than you were.

I guess we'll find out, seeing as you've gotten your way, and I've stayed off my feet just like you've asked me to.

So far at least. Just remember, part of the process is taking it easier going forward. At least for a while.

I know, and as much as it pains me to admit it, you're probably right. I—

Oh, my! Julie gasped. If I hadn't heard it myself I would have never believed it.

—do need to take it a bit easier until I toughen back up. Charles finished in a dry voice, completely ignoring Julie's interruption. Fact is, as soon as you return my shoes I plan to take things as easy as I can.

And just exactly what things are you planning to take easy?

Well, in addition to getting back to some light duty with the milking, I've been thinking it's time I start looking at pickups, maybe do a test drive or two. I'm going to need a pickup to get my spring work taken care of, and with this bum leg, I'm not likely to be able to drive Chet for the foreseeable future.

Let me get this straight. You figure that walking around acre after acre of car lots is taking it easy?

Well, when you put it like that, no, I don't. I was thinking more about the test drives.

Julie shook her head. How about we start by you coming to my house and helping with the baking for our River Valley Pantry sales? You can sit on a chair, keep your foot elevated, bag the cookies, and keep me company.

I think you're just trying to get me to come to your house so you can keep an eye on me.

Me? Julie pointed at her chest. Keep an eye on you? Never!

Well, now that we've cleared that up. Are there any other circumstances under which I can talk you into returning my shoes?

I'm sure there are, Julie smiled, but at the moment I can't seem to think of any.

In that case, if you'll give me my shoes, I'd be happy to spend the day with you, helping you fill River Valley Pantry's cookie orders.

I thought you might. Julie stepped out of his bedroom and Charles heard a rustling sound. When she returned to his bedside, she carried a bag in each hand. I just happen to have your shoes with me, and as requested, Kristyn polished your Sunday shoes so they'll be ready for you to wear next week.

That smug look on your face makes me believe you think you're pretty smart. You had to be pretty sure of yourself to bring the shoes in the house.

They've actually been riding around in my car since Saturday afternoon. When you didn't push me to let you go to church yesterday morning, I knew your leg was still hurting. By last night I could see how restless you were getting. I figured I could bring your shoes in with me this morning, and if you were really ready we could let you out of bed on a trial basis. On the other hand, if you didn't push too hard, and if I didn't let you see the shoes, I could simply take them back out to the car and you'd never be the wiser.

Charles stroked his chin, his gray eyes calculating. Sometimes I forget just how devious you can be.

No, you don't. If you did, I'd win our arguments far more often than I do.

If you won any more often than you do, I'd never win at all.

Julie's laughter trailed behind her as she left the bedroom, leaving Charles to get himself dressed for the day.

***

So, Julie began as Charles settled himself into the chair in her dining room, we've had a pretty good weekend for orders. In addition to Tom's standing order of twelve dozen cookies for Live Well, we've gotten additional orders totaling eight dozen more on the retail side.

How does that compare with what you've been seeing in the past?

It's definitely growing. Julie smiled as she continued to bustle around her kitchen. It's slower than I'd like, but if it were growing as quickly as I'd hoped, I'd never be able to keep up.

Have you decided how you're going to handle that eventuality?

Julie paused, fixing Charles with a stare. You seem pretty certain business is going to continue to grow.

Of course I'm certain. I've tasted your cookies, haven't I?

Julie's cheeks colored and she shrugged. I appreciate your vote of confidence, and I really am trying to be more open to what you and David and Kristyn say about my cookies, but it's all still a bit overwhelming. Granted, I've spent a lot of years perfecting my recipe and methods, but it still seems strange that people would pay me to bake cookies for them.

Any stranger than paying you to make cheese for them?

Julie shrugged, I guess not.

Well, you and Mark were all-fired ready to start a business based on making cheese for upscale consumers. If you thought that was a viable business, why is it so hard for you to accept that those same upscale clients would buy your cookies?

It's not so farfetched, Julie admitted. At least not intellectually. It's just hard to wrap my mind around it on an emotional level.

I for one am grateful that women respond and act emotionally, but at times it would sure be easier if you would give a bit more weight to the logical side of your brain.

Oh, really? Julie drawled. And just exactly what do you think we logic impaired women should be more detached and logical about?

It was Charles' turn to color as his blush warmed his neck and cheeks. Well, I don't have anything specific in mind. It was more of a general observation that things might work more smoothly between men and women if we were able to communicate in a more logical fashion. Not that there's anything wrong with communicating and acting on an emotional level, Charles hastened to add.

Julie ducked behind the counter, but not before Charles glimpsed the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She began pulling cookie sheets from the cabinet and placing them in a stack on the countertop.

So let me get this straight. Julie's disembodied voice floated up from behind the cabinet that shielded her from Charles' view. After thirty years of bachelorhood, you're having a hard time dealing with two women suddenly popping up in your life?

That's not what I said, Charles growled. The fact is, I've quite enjoyed getting to know Kristyn … and you.

Is that so?

Well to be perfectly honest, the process hasn't been totally without risk and pain, but then most things that are worthwhile require effort and entail some level of risk.

Julie rose, closing the cabinet door more forcefully than was absolutely necessary. Posting her hands on her hips, she fixed Charles with an icy stare. A lady might think you're dangerously close to letting your words carry you over the edge of a cliff with nothing to stop what looks to be an endless fall. Of course, a lady would never point out such boorish behavior as she'd expect her companions to understand just how ridiculous their behavior is.

Well, it's a good thing you're a lady and that I already understand just how unwise it would be to say or do anything that would put me on your wrong side.

So now I have a wrong side? Julie responded flatly.

Umm, not that I've ever seen. You only have right sides, and I can't tell you how delighted I am when I'm allowed to enjoy the warm loving feeling that comes from being near either of your right sides.

I thought that's what you meant, Julie replied. The twinkle in her eyes betrayed how much she enjoyed sparring with Charles.

I've missed it too. The past several months have been hard on all of us. It's nice to be back home, and especially nice to be spending time with the people who make my life worth living. Thank you for inviting me to spend the day with you. I think it's exactly what I need.

Even if I work you mercilessly as punishment for your tactless comments?

No matter how hard you work me, especially if I somehow manage to redeem myself enough that you decide my humble efforts deserve a few cookies as a reward.

So you're saying my appreciation wouldn't be sufficient reward? You're expecting something more tangible?

Your appreciation would be all I could hope for. It's just that graciously bestowing a few of your cookies would be even better.

Honestly, I think you and David have been spending way too much time together. Sometimes I see your mouth moving and hear his words coming out.

I can only hope the opposite is true as well.

All too often for my comfort. Sometimes I think David purposely memorizes what you say, just so he can toss one of your witticisms in my face when I least expect it.

A fond smile spread across Charles' face. Maybe I should have a talk with him. It would probably be best if he was a bit more selective who he quotes.

Perhaps you should. Julie nodded in agreement. "His comments have been known to rankle at times,