Sleigh Bells for Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad
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he could do about it.
Amy Mitchell stopped chewing her gum and cleared her throat for a moment. It was still more dark than light outside, but the café opened early, and she wanted to get this over with. She stood rigid inside the main room, ignoring the nervous tickle that went up and down her spine. The door had opened behind her. Someone was standing there, but she wasn’t going to turn around. She didn’t care who saw her. People were going to find out sooner or later, anyway, that she was making some serious changes in her life.
“Care for a cup?” Linda Enger, the café owner, squinted as she walked over with her pot of coffee. She had a yellow kerchief tied around her curly, auburn hair and a white chef’s apron covering her jeans and T-shirt. Red toenails peeked out of leather sandals and a big, diamond ring circled her wedding finger.
“No, no thank you.” A light had burned out overhead, and it was darker in this part of the café than elsewhere. Amy wasn’t sure the other woman saw her well enough to recognize her, since dawn was barely starting to light up the sky.
Linda walked closer and finally cocked her head sideways a little. “Amy?”
She nodded. “I’ve come to see if you have a job.”
“Oh.” Linda blinked and then paused. “I haven’t seen you in town for a long time. Is everything all right?”
Amy realized in a sudden burst of panic that she still had her gum in her mouth.
“Sorry,” she said as she reached up and removed the gum. She always chewed a new stick of spearmint gum when she went out to do the chores. It helped with the smells in the barn. But she usually took it out as soon as she went back in the house. This morning she had been so upset, she’d forgotten.
“No problem,” Linda said. “So it’s a job, is it?”
Amy had an empty wrapper in her pocket, and she quietly folded it around the used gum while she nodded and tried to look competent for the other woman. “I am available for any shift you might need. I could do the cleaning, too. I’m good with a mop.”
Amy stuffed the wrapped gum into her jacket pocket and rubbed her hands against the denim jeans she was wearing. She hadn’t had a paying job before. Shoveling out the barn didn’t count. She quickly glanced around. Two local ranch hands were at a far back table arguing about something, probably the price of wheat, but they were paying no attention to the front of the café.
“You have such a beautiful floor,” Amy said, just to keep the conversation going. The black-and-white squares and vinyl-covered ruby chairs were part of a fifties look. “And I don’t mind hard work.”
“But what about your aunt?” Linda stepped over to the closest table and set the coffeepot down. “Doesn’t she still need someone with her? I know her MS has been difficult on all of you.”
Amy shifted her feet. “The doctor says she’s well enough to be on her own more than she is.” He’d been saying that for the last year, actually. It wasn’t until twenty minutes ago that Amy had realized she was using her aunt’s health as an excuse not to live her own life.
“That’s good news,” Linda said. “You’re sure?”
“That’s what he says. Sometimes the MS goes into remission for months—even years—and she’s doing fine now. But I thought maybe—if I need to sometimes—I could take a break when business is slow and drive back to check on her. That is, if you have something for me.”
Amy knew she shouldn’t make any decisions about applying for a job when she was still angry. But she felt she had to do something right now to show she wasn’t as pathetic as some people obviously thought. By people, she meant Shawn Garrett.
She had thought Shawn was her friend. But then she had also thought he had been joking when he had proposed she marry him to help him get more votes in his campaign for the state legislature. Shawn had always been a kidder, so she’d laughed and figured it was just his sense of humor—until this morning.
There had been no mistaking the bitter triumph in his voice as she’d stood in the hallway outside her aunt’s kitchen and overheard him brag that Amy would gladly marry him once she read the article about Wade Stone being washed up after his latest injury on the rodeo circuit. Shawn must have paused to take a breath, because she’d then heard the rustle of a newspaper like he was pointing something out to her aunt. Then he’d muttered that it had been a year since the accident and so Wade was never coming back—which meant Amy was wasting her time waiting for him.
Amy’s blood pressure rose when she heard her aunt murmur in quiet agreement.
“Is something wrong?” Linda asked as she searched Amy’s face.
“No, I’m doing fine.” She forced her mind back to the café and looked at the other woman. “I was just thinking.”
Amy’s eyes narrowed all of a sudden. She wondered who else Shawn had been talking to about her feelings for Wade. She could bear many things, but she couldn’t stand to have her neighbors gossip about her like she was some old spinster who pined away for a man who was beyond her reach—even though Shawn was right on one point. Wade had clearly forgotten anyone in Dry Creek existed, and that included her. She’d never received even a postcard from him in the nine years he’d been gone.
“You always seem like things are good,” Linda agreed, looking more relaxed. “I know it’s been hard with your aunt, but—”
“She’s not the problem.” Amy tried to be fair. Her aunt had given up a career on Broadway to raise her after her parents had been killed in a car accident. “I want to do what I can for her. And my grandfather is around. He’s not always—well, his mind drifts and he’s not always quite there, but he’d be able to call for help if something was really wrong.”
When she ran out of words, Amy just stood there.
Linda was silent as she studied her.
Please, God. Amy bit her lip as she prayed. I need some help.
“Well, I think we have a deal,” the café owner finally said decisively. “My sister helps me until the middle of January, but she’ll be going back to college then. So come back in a month or so. We could start you then.”
“Oh.” Amy swallowed.
Everything was quiet for a moment.
“That’s not soon enough for you, is it?” Linda’s smile faded. “I’m sorry. I just can’t afford more help before then—it might be as late as February before I can start you. Things really pick up around here for Valentine’s Day. But if I can swing it earlier, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, let me fix you some breakfast. On the house. Free food is one of the perks of the job. That’ll make you feel better.”
“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” Amy had to get back soon, or her aunt would worry about her. She just hoped Shawn was gone by then. She hadn’t said anything to either of them. They could still be at the table, drinking tea and talking about her.
“Well, I’ll be in touch then,” Linda said as she turned to pick up the coffeepot from the table, where she had set it earlier. With that, the café owner started walking toward the men in the back, probably to refill their cups.
A soft footstep sounded behind Amy, but she didn’t turn around. She knew she wore her disappointment on her face, and she had her pride. Life had been difficult for her—that was nothing new—but she was starting to feel helpless, and she didn’t like that.
She had stayed home to care for her aunt, but she wanted to travel and see new places, too. Eventually, she hoped to have a husband and children. She wanted to raise her family in Dry Creek, but surely, Shawn wasn’t her only choice.
Amy knew she should be turning to God for solace, but lately she found herself being angry with Him. Her resentment had been building for some time. God might be the Maker of heaven and earth, but He never seemed to care about her. She