Leave It to Chance (4 page)

Emmett had loaned him a new CD by DeathTrain. It was buried in his backpack, beneath the sandwich he hadn’t eaten. He hated crunchy peanut butter.

Emory ran past him toward the house. “Grandma’s here!”

Braden kicked a rock off the sidewalk into the grass. His dad had told him not to do that. It could damage the lawn mower.

He walked into the house and dropped his backpack on the couch, then went over to the kitchen table and helped himself to the cookies that Emory and Trevor had already gotten into.

“Hi, Braden. Did you have a good day?”

The cookie was warm and still gooey in the middle. His grandma always put in extra chocolate chips. He shrugged. “It was okay. These are good.”

She patted him on the head as she set a plate and a glass of milk in front of him.

The phone rang, and Grandma answered it. He reached for the same cookie as Emory and got to it first. She glared as he stuffed it in his mouth in one bite.

“Oh, hi, Sally. This is Abbey Lassiter, Sierra’s mom. You called me for Sierra’s number, remember?” Then his grandma laughed.

He took a drink of milk.

“Yes, Sierra told me she called you about the horse. Is there any chance we could go see him today?”

Braden looked at Emory. She grinned back at him. They high-fived. “Yes!”

“What?” Trevor looked at them. “Why’d you guys do that?”

Braden whispered. “We’re going to see the horse.”

Sierra stormed out of Michael’s office and through the parking lot, her thumb pressing the
speed dial
number on her cell before she’d even unlocked the car door.

Elise answered on the second ring.

Sierra threw her purse into the passenger seat and shoved the key into the ignition. “He’s in the Bahamas.” The car idled while she shrugged out of her coat, transferring the phone to the other ear. “Michael can’t pay his child support, but he can fly to a seminar in the tropics.” And she was sure there was a dental seminar there. It made a great tax write-off. Whether Michael actually attended the sessions was between him and the IRS.

“He didn’t!” Elise said.

“He did. And I lied to his bookkeeper. I told her I needed his hotel address for the kids. I
hate
dishonesty.” Sierra dug between the seats to find the hands-free ear bud. “I wanted to know where he was, and the words just flowed out easy as you please. I was smug about it, Elise. Smug.” She latched her seat belt and eased the van out of the parking lot into traffic.

“How far the smug have fallen.”

“Don’t laugh. I’m serious. This is like a major character defect. How can I teach my kids not to lie if one shoots right out my mouth when it suits my purpose?”

“So, how did you find out Michael’s in the Bahamas?”

“I asked his bookkeeper to reissue his child support check.”

A note of concern entered Elise’s voice. “Did she?”

“No.”

A clicking noise of teeth against tongue came over the phone—Elise’s nervous habit when she was thinking.

“What?”

“Hon, I don’t want to add to your load.”

“Spit it out.”

“Okay, but don’t shoot the messenger.” She paused. “My sister ran into Michael’s mom today at the mall. It seems he bought another dental practice last spring from a Dr. somebody-or-other who’d retired.”

“Do I want to know?”

“You need to. All the patients from the new practice have jumped ship and gone scurrying to a dentist across the street.”

Sierra flipped her blinker to turn onto her street. “So he has no money coming in and a big payment to Dr. somebody-or-other, plus trips to the Bahamas to pay for.”

“A
whopper
of a payment, according to his mom. Have I ever told you how sorry I am that I introduced the two of you?”

“Only a zillion times.”

“Well, I am sorry.”

“I’m not.”

A note of tenderness entered Elise’s voice. “I don’t blame you. Those three angels are adorable.”

“They are everything.” And without that money they were going to be uprooted again. How was she going to keep her family from coming apart?

“Oh, gotta run. Customers.” Elise’s kiss-kiss through the phone ended the call.

Sierra pulled into the driveway. Her mom’s car wasn’t at the curb. Had the Hamburger Lickins driven her to the store? If they lived with her mom, they’d never swallow another cell-damaging nitrate again. Full of good nutrition and helpful advice, they’d ever so slowly be loved to death.

She stepped through the side door into the kitchen as the garage ratcheted closed behind her. She set her keys and purse on the counter next to the phone and spotted her mom’s note.

Horse—22 yrs. Gray gelding. Gentle. $600

No way! Six hundred bucks? She gripped the counter, a desperate hope building inside. If she could sell the horse for that much, they could stay in their home at least for a little while longer! She chewed a fingernail. Would Mr. Flannery give her an extra day or two if she could prove she owned $600 worth of horseflesh? Would he take the horse in lieu of a check?

She stared at the note’s flowery script. It was just like her mom to take Sally’s call and then draft the ad for her. Surprising that she hadn’t added the classified number in the margin. Sierra reached for the phone book in the drawer next to the silverware. Ten minutes later her six-hundred-dollar horse was listed for sale, set to run in tomorrow’s paper.

Chapter 4

Braden’s hand gripped the car door handle. He wished Grandma would drive faster; he couldn’t wait to tell his mom about Chance. The horse was
awesome!
As soon as the car stopped in the driveway, he flew out of the car and raced for the house. He wanted to tell Mom first.

He pounded up the porch steps, twisted the knob, and pushed his shoulder into the door. He heard the car doors slam behind him and then his brother and sister running through the gravel.

His mom sat on the couch. She looked excited to see him.

“Mom! Chance is so beautiful! Sally let us ride him and everything. He’s so cool.”

His mom’s eyebrows pinched together, and she didn’t look excited any more. “What do you mean?”

“Chance. The horse.”

Her voice sounded strange, like she was scared or mad. “You rode that horse?”

Ah, man!
He knew she’d ruin it. She didn’t want them to have a horse, all because of her friend. That was what Grandma said.

His sister ran through the door in front of his little brother. “Mom, we saw Chance. Can we keep him, please?”

His mom didn’t even answer. She looked at Grandma and her face got all funny looking and kind of red. “You took them to see that horse without me?” His mom never looked at Grandma like that. He felt kind of scared inside. Like when his dad got mad at him.

“Now, Sierra, I know you don’t think it’s a good idea, but it went very well.”

His mom’s voice was quiet. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t ask me first. A horse is the last animal I’d let my children around.”

Braden rushed next to his grandma. “Mom, it wasn’t dangerous. He—”

His mom barely looked at him. “Braden, stay out of this. Grandma and I are talking. Go play your video games.”

She never listened to him. He wished he was at Emmett’s house. Emmett’s mom didn’t make him play baby games on his Game Boy.

“I can’t afford a horse. I have two days to pay October’s rent before we’re evicted.”

They’d have to move? He looked at Emory, who stared back, her eyes wide. Maybe they could live at one of those apartments with a swimming pool. Cool. But they couldn’t keep a horse there.

“Heavens, Sierra. Why didn’t you say something? Do you want me to loan you the money?”

“You can’t afford to do that, Mom.”

“Well, you have to figure something out.”

Sierra started biting a fingernail. “I’m trying to get a job. I just need more time.”

“Well, unfortunately time isn’t what you have. You’re going to have to move home, honey. We need to start packing your things up,” Grandma went on. “I’ll call Paul Willan from church. He owns the hardware store and has loads of boxes. I’m sure he and his wife would love to help. They are the dearest people. We could probably get some boxes moved over to the house tonight.”

His mom looked panicky. “I thought you agreed that selling the horse was the best option—I saw your note.”

Grandma’s face twisted like she was confused, then she laughed. “Oh honey, that’s how much Sally wants to charge to stable him every quarter. I guess her husband isn’t getting the sheep after all.”

His mom looked at him, then back at his grandma, all nervous-like. “I’m selling the horse. I already placed the ad, and with the money from the sale, I’ll be able to pay the rent until I get a job.”

Braden clenched his fists. “No, you can’t sell Chance!”

His mom looked at him like he wasn’t old enough to understand grown-up stuff. “I’m sorry, but we can’t keep him.”

The words came storming out of his mouth. “You never do anything we want. I wish I lived with Dad.” His mom’s face got sad, and he wished he hadn’t said it so mean. Sometimes he didn’t mean to yell—the words just fell out of his mouth without him even trying.

“Braden, I’d like you to go upstairs. Emory, why don’t you and Trevor go play Chutes and Ladders for a little bit?”

He stomped upstairs to his room and dug the new CD Emmett loaned him out of his backpack. His mom would be mad if she knew he had it. She didn’t like music that used dirty words. The music made him feel weird, kind of bad, but he liked the angry music when he was mad. He flopped onto his bed, grabbed his Game Boy, and turned his headphones up loud.

“I’m calling about the horse,” a voice said over the phone Tuesday morning. “Is he still for sale?”

Yes!
Sierra danced around the bathroom and silently pumped the air with her fist. “Yes, he is. Would you like to see him?” She scooped the damp towels into the laundry basket, her grip tight on the phone she’d been carrying with her all morning, with the hope she would get this call.

“When would be a good time for you?”

“Actually, Sally, the lady who boards him, will show him to you.”

A pause. “I’d really prefer that the owner be present.”

Sierra froze, clutching one of Emory’s pink hair clips she’d picked up off the floor, as a picture formed of her attempting to lead the horse out of the barn. Her voice came out slightly strangled sounding. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“We’re flexible on the time. If you’re not available for a few—”

“No, I mean I, uh, I’m not really fond of horses.”

Again silence, then the puzzled voice asked. “Are you the owner?”

She cleared her throat and dropped the hair clip in the top vanity drawer. “I am.”

The businesslike male voice asked, “Do you worm him regularly?”

“Um, I’m not sure.”

A pause, then, “Is he shod?”

Shod?
“I don’t know.”

His voiced sounded odd. “Do you happen to know what color your horse is?”

“No, I—” Sierra remember the ad her mom had drafted. “Gray!” She leaned back against the counter and stared at the water-stained shower door. “I’ve only owned him a few days, and I’ve never seen him. I’m not much of a horse person, sorry.”

He chuckled. “The picture’s getting clearer. My wife has to work, but my daughter and I would like to come look at him this afternoon about three.”

“I’ll let Sally know you’re coming.” Sierra gave him directions and hung up the phone.

Chapter 5

Ross Morgan tossed another bag of fertilizer onto the bed of his blue pickup as he heard the smooth rumble of tires flying over gravel. Kyle’s red four-wheel-drive pickup followed the circular drive to the barn and parked next to Ross.

Kyle Olsen swung his door open and climbed down out of the beast. “Hey, cousin.”

Ross hiked another bag into the back of his truck. “Don’t you have work you need to be doing?”

Kyle eyed the pile of bags stacked in the rear of Ross’s pickup. “Nothing this labor intensive. You need to get out of the landscaping business.”

Ross chuckled and paused to lean against the pickup bed. “It pays the bills. What are you doing out this way?”

“Heather wanted me to deliver some of her leftover pot roast to Sid.”

Ross glanced over at Sid Barrow’s farm next door. “Sid does love his pot roast. So how are Heather and the girls? I haven’t seen them in a while.”

“The family’s doin’ good.” Kyle rubbed the top of his mustache and cleared his throat twice. “Hey, I’ve got a situation.”

Ross grinned at his cousin and rolled back to another time when Kyle had used those same words. “Tell your mother I am not taking Isabella to the prom.”

Kyle’s hearty laughter filled the air. “It’s been eighteen years and she still thinks you missed out.”

Ross laughed with a shudder. Isabella had been a bossy girl living next to his cousin’s family and had been a constant pest to Ross. Kyle’s mom thought it was a match made in heaven. “What’s up this time?”

“Well, it involves Sid, but I thought I’d run it by you first.”

“Sid won’t like that.”

“Well, you’re more son than neighbor to him, and I figured you’d know best if he’d be up for this.”

“He keeps his shotgun loaded, you know.”

Kyle chuckled. “Sid has some boarding stalls available, doesn’t he?”

Ross felt the muscles in his back tighten, like they had after his mother suggested he and his father spend some bonding time on the golf course last Father’s Day. He’d spent the day digging his ball out of bunkers and listening to his dad talk about how he wished Ross had gone to law school and, like Ross’s brother, joined their dad’s law firm.

He gave his cousin a direct look. “The polo training is about all he can handle. He’s too old to be taking on more work.”

Kyle leaned back against his truck door and scuffed the tip of his shoe against the rocks. “There’s really not a lot of work involved, especially as this one doesn’t need to be trained to chase those balls around the field.”

Ross shook his head. “Sid would skin you alive if he heard you talking about his ponies like that. And no, he doesn’t need to take on one more horse. Don’t ask him.” He felt a smile emerge. “Though he’d skewer me good if he knew I’d told you that.”

Kyle nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” He tilted his head at Ross’s barn, then the field behind it, and let a slow smile spread across his face. “Well, lookee here at all this fenced pasture just going to waste….”

Ross let out a long laugh. “You dog. You set me up.”

Kyle’s grin kept growing bigger. “Are you biting?”

“Who’d you offer it to?”

Kyle’s voice took on his normal enthusiasm, and he rubbed his hands together. “Abbey Lassiter. She’s looking for a place to stable her daughter Sierra’s horse. Sierra has three young kids, and Abbey said they’re pretty desperate to find a place for Chance.”

Ross shook his head, still bemused at how his cousin had suckered him in. “The barn hasn’t been used since I was a kid, and the fence is close to falling down.”

“You wouldn’t have to do a thing.”

“Except say yes.”

Kyle’s smile stretched to his back molars. “Except say yes.”

“And chase down that horse when he gets out.”

Kyle’s smile weakened. “Well, I could help with that. And I’m sure Sierra would be here in a heartbeat.”

Ross challenged him with a raised eyebrow.

“Really, Ross. I’ve known Sierra for years. She’s very capable.”

Ross brushed a thumb across his jaw. “So I give her a call to let her know the horse is out. She runs over, lassoes, uh, Chance—did I get the name right?” At Kyle’s cheeky nod, he continued. “She lassoes Chance and settles him back in the barn, then gets her leather gloves and wire cutters and goes out in the muddy, wet field and repairs the fence?” He paused. “Did I miss anything?”

Kyle didn’t hold back the chuckle. “The rain.”

“That’s right, the rain. No, the
sleet
. So Miss Sierra is out in the driving sleet repairing the fence while Ross the Louse is in the house reading the newspaper and drinking his coffee in front of the fire. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

Kyle’s blue eyes crinkled with laughter. “Trade me with Sierra and you got it right. And I’d expect you to save me a cup of that coffee.”

Ross shook his head and felt his lips twitch in an answering grin. “No, let me tell you what would really happen. Ready?”

Kyle stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You got the platform, buddy.”

Ross scratched the back of his head and gazed around the yard. “I would come home from a long hard day of mulching Mrs. Latham’s flower beds. Cold, wet, exhausted, and hungry. You with me?”

“I’m with you, man.”

“I pull up my drive, and there’s Chance, not a care in the world, blocking my road. I get out of the truck, and he bolts. I drive to the house and call you, but you don’t answer, and your cell phone is dead. I get a lead rope and spend an hour chasing the nag down. Then, in the dark—”

“Don’t forget the sleet.”

He nodded. “With sleet pounding my back, I try to find the blasted hole in the fence. And when I find it, I can barely fix it because my fingers are frozen.”

“Where’re your gloves?”

“Forgot them in the truck because I was spittin’ nails when I couldn’t get a hold of you.”

Kyle leaned back with a loud hoot.

Ross crossed his arms. “Glad you can see why this won’t work.”

His cousin clapped him on the shoulder. “When can we trailer him over?” Kyle was the type who wanted to rescue every stray that crossed his path. No doubt it was the reason
he
took Isabelle Mittingham to their prom.

“All right.” Ross sighed. “Let’s go look at the barn.”

Ross watched the green Honda van roll to a stop near his house Tuesday afternoon. He rested his shoulder on the side of his pickup bed and watched as an older woman step from the car and then lean down to help a young boy get his foot loose from the seatbelt.

Ross crossed the circular yard between the barn and his house to greet them. “You must be Abbey Lassiter. Kyle told me you might be by today.”

“Hello. And this young man is my grandson Trevor.”

Ross smiled down at the child. “Hi, Trevor.”

The boy kept close to his grandma. Abbey bent toward Trevor. “Say ‘hi’ to the man, honey.”

The boy fidgeted and a shy smile emerged. “Hi.”

“So you and Kyle are cousins? I don’t recall ever seeing you with Kyle at church.” Her smile was gracious, but a determined question was in her eyes.

He decided to appease her curiosity. “My folks and I attended across town when I was growing up. I visited a few times when I stayed the night with Kyle. I belong to Faith Community now.”

“Ah.” The answer seemed to satisfy, and her smile warmed. “I always hoped Kyle and my daughter—” She laughed self-consciously and glanced down at Trevor. “Well, you know how mothers can be. And now Kyle is married and Sierra is single again.”

Ross slapped his gloves lightly against his leg, and he looked down at Trevor, but the boy wasn’t listening. His attention had been caught by a fuzzy caterpillar that was slowly crawling over the rocks. Ross looked at Abbey. “So, do you want to see the barn? Kyle mentioned you have a horse that needed stabling.”

Abbey laughed and started walking with him toward the barn. “Now there’s a story. My daughter Sierra inherited it, if you can believe that. Miss Libby had no idea when she wrote her will how terrified of horses Sierra is. My daughter is really quite a level-headed person, but she went through a traumatic experience when she was young.” She glanced quickly at Trevor, then gave Ross a negative shake of her head. “I can explain later.”

Throughout the tour of the small barn, the woman gave him more details than he needed to know about her daughter’s life. When Trevor found a black beetle climbing over some rags in the corner of the tack room, Abbey was too busy explaining about Sierra’s divorce to even notice. It felt like gossip and Ross didn’t like it.

He interrupted with a polite smile and brought the conversation back to the barn. “Do you think this would work?”

Abbey laughed again. “Oh, listen to me, I do go on sometimes. I just thought it’d be helpful if you understood what the poor girl has been through.”

He rested his hand on top of a stall door. “That’s thoughtful of you, but I prefer to let people tell their own stories.”

“Oh.” For the first time Abbey had nothing to say.

He hid a grin and let his hand slide off the stall. “Well, if you’ve seen—”

“
But
there are extenuating circumstances.” A finger waved in protest. “Sierra would never say anything about what’s happened to her. She has a hard time accepting help. And if I can’t find someone who will board her horse, those children will have one more disappointment to deal with.”

A chuckle escaped his lips. “Does she know you’re here?’

She tilted her head. “When a person is under stress, do you think she always knows what’s best for her?”

Ho boy.
“And you do, I presume?”

“Of course, I’m her mother.” She clapped her hands together. “Now, let’s talk payment. I’m on a fixed income but I have a little spending money.”

What kind of trouble had Kyle gotten him into?

Sierra dished macaroni and cheese with sliced hot dogs onto Trevor’s plate.

“Macaroni and cheese again?” Braden stared at his plate and made no move for his fork.

“It has hot dogs.” Emory scooted her chair closer to the table.

The phone rang, and Braden jumped up. “I’ll get it.” He reached for the phone, and Sierra’s hand gripped the serving spoon that hovered over her plate. A few cheesy elbow noodles dripped onto the dish.

“Hello?” There was a pause and then his chin pulled in and his brow furrowed. “You want to buy Chance?” Clarity swept across his features, and furious brown eyes shot darts at her.

Sierra took the phone he shoved at her before he pounded up the stairs. “Hello?”

Pure delight lit Greg Adams’ voice. “We love him! Can I drop the payment by in an hour or so?”

If Emory and Trevor weren’t looking at her like she’d just slaughtered their best friend, she would be doing cartwheels. “Certainly. That would be fine.”

A few minutes later, Sierra heard a key in the front door and her mom breezed into the house with a singsong voice. “Who wants blackberry cob-
bler?”

Emory pushed back from the table and ran to her grandmother. “Someone bought Chance!”

Shock and dismay rushed over Abbey’s features as she clutched the dessert dish. Then she marched toward the kitchen counter shaking her head with Em trailing behind.

Sierra sighed. “Mom, just say it.”

“I just don’t know how you can do this to them, after all they’ve been through.”

“I’m being responsible. Ensuring they have some stability in their lives. Keeping them safe.”

Abbey set the cobbler down and reached into the cupboard for plates. “It just keeps coming back to that Molly girl, doesn’t it? I should have gotten you into counseling.”

Sierra started clearing the half-eaten macaroni from the table. “That has nothing to do with me selling Chance.” She pulled some storage containers from a drawer. “If I sell him, there’s no moving in with you and no uprooting the kids again.” She just wanted the day over. Mr. Flannery could get his money tomorrow and tell his poor grandson Ronnie that he’d have to live in the dorm, and she could keep looking for a job.

Her mom jerked the silverware drawer open, grabbed a knife and started cutting into the golden biscuits covering the cobbler. “Keep the horse, Sierra. Just give it a few more days.”