Sugar Plums for Dry Creek & At Home in Dry Creek (8 page)

J
udd ached. It was Sunday morning, and he'd got ten the kids up and dressed for Sunday school like he'd promised them, but his body ached all over. Just a few months ago, he'd loaded two tons of hay bales by hand with nothing more than leather gloves and a metal hook. He hadn't felt a single ache in his body then. He was a man in the prime of his life. He was a rancher. But one day of ballet practice had about done him in.

And they hadn't even started practicing their parts yet. Lizette had just shown them some basic ballet steps. She said she was going to wait to practice the individual steps when she got the costumes she was borrowing from her old teacher and made sure they all fit.

Lizette had taken a moment to tell both Judd and Pete that she was sure both of their costumes would
fit. And if not, she said, she'd improvise. Judd figured it was her way of telling them they had no hope of escaping.

After about an hour of ballet practice, Judd had stopped worrying about wearing tights. He didn't care what he wore. He just hoped that the Nutcracker guy stood in one place and let the Mouse King plow into him. His body would hurt less that way than if he had to keep practicing.

“Can you braid my hair?” Amanda stood in front of him after break fast with a blue rib bon in her hand.

“Oh, but it'll look pretty if we just brush it and tie the rib bon around it,” Judd said. He'd never braided hair in his life.

“No, I want it to look like Miss Lizette's,” Amanda said. “She's aw fully pretty.”

“That she is, sweet heart,” Judd said as he picked up the rib bon. He supposed he could try to braid hair. He was good at tying knots; he should be able to figure out hair braids.

Judd did a cross between a sailor's knot and a square knot.

“It doesn't look like Miss Lizette's,” Amanda said as she stood up to look in the driver's mirror of his pickup. Judd had just pulled into a parking place near the church and was un fastening the seat belts the children wore.

“The rib bon's pretty,” Judd said reassuringly.

Judd looked at the braid again. Amanda was right. It didn't look at all like the one Lizette wore. “Maybe if you keep your head tilted to the right.”

Judd wondered how many times he needed to bring the kids to Sunday school be fore he could throw him self on the mercy of Mrs. Hargrove. If he could just spend an afternoon with her asking questions, he knew he could do a better job with Amanda and Bobby. There should be some kind of a book or something that people could buy when they inherited kids all of a sudden like he had. Something that covered night mares and braids and the other questions he had.

“You're coming with us, aren't you?” Bobby asked anxiously after he and Amanda had both climbed out of the passenger side of the pickup.

Judd looked over at them. They looked like little ref u gee children, frightened of a new experience and excited all at the same time. They'd asked so many questions this morning about church and Sunday school that he knew they'd never gone to either in their short lives. They didn't know what to expect any more than he did.

“Sure. I'm coming,” Judd said as he opened his door. He hoped this wasn't one of those churches that required ties, because he didn't own one. It had al ways seemed point less to have a tie when he didn't
have a suit. Judd wished he'd screwed up his courage and visited this little church be fore the children came. At least then he could tell them what it looked like in side.

“It might have windows with pictures,” Judd had said this morning. He couldn't remember actually looking that closely at the church in Dry Creek, but churches had those stained-glass windows, didn't they?

Judd looked down the side of the church now. He didn't see any stained-glass windows showing from the out side. “Even if there's no pictures, Mrs. Hargrove will be there.”

The last seemed to re assure Bobby and Amanda. Judd wished he had thought to re mind them of that fact earlier.

“She's going to be the Snow Queen,” Amanda said. “But her costume won't be as pretty as mine.”

“I think you're going to have the prettiest costume of all,” Judd agreed as they started walking up the steps of the church. He put his hand on top of Amanda's head.

“There's Miss Lizette,” Amanda said when they reached the bottom of the steps.

Judd looked down the street. Sure enough, Lizette was walking to ward them. She wore a red wool coat and had a small black hat on her head. She looked
more up town than any thing Judd had ever seen in Dry Creek.

“Good morning,” Judd said. He couldn't think of one good reason why he'd never bought a suit and a tie in his life. A man should be pre pared for days like this.

“Hello,” Lizette said as she smiled at them. “Are you going to church, too?”

Amanda nodded. “And we're going to sit in a pew,” Amanda leaned over and confided to Lizette. “But that's not a stinky thing. Cousin Judd says it's a long chair and we've got to share it.”

Judd figured even a tie wouldn't save him now. “The children were curious about church.”

“Of course,” Lizette said.

All four of them had come to a stop at the bottom of the church stairs. There were only seven steps to the landing, but Judd didn't feel inclined to step forward and, apparently, neither did any one else.

“Have you been to church here be fore?” Lizette finally asked as she stood looking up at the door.

It was a perfectly ordinary door, Judd decided. A good solid-wood double door. It was winter so the door wasn't wide open, but it was open a good six inches or so and he could hear the sounds of people talking in side.

“No, I've never been,” Judd admitted.

“Oh,” Lizette said, and then looked at him in stead
of the door. “But you've been to other churches, right?”

Judd shook his head. “I don't know a thing about them.”

“Me neither,” Lizette said.

“I thought I should bring the children,” Judd finally said.

Both Judd and Lizette looked down at the children and then looked at each other.

Lizette nodded. “Yes, the children should go to church.”

Lizette held out her hand to Amanda. Judd held out his hand to Bobby. The four of them walked into church just like they were a family.

Yes, Judd thought. The next time he went to Billings he was definitely going to buy him self a suit and a tie.

 

Lizette looked around the church the minute she and Amanda stepped through the door. She'd searched through her costume trunk to find the French fedora she wore, and not an other man or woman in the church was wearing a hat. She'd tried so hard to blend in that she was sticking out.

“Well, welcome,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she walked over from an other group of people. She had her hand extended out to Lizette. “I can't tell you how
happy I am that you decided to join us this morning.”

“I thought the children should come to church,” Lizette said, and then blushed. She wasn't the one who was related to the children. It wasn't her place to see that they went to church.

“Oh, we have something for all ages,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she extended her hand to Judd as well. “And you made it, too. I'm so glad.”

Judd nodded.

“The children are going to decorate candles this morning,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she leaned down to the level of Amanda and Bobby. “And you're going to talk about the light of the world.”

“Can I make a blue candle?” Amanda asked. “I like blue.”

“They have all colors of candles and sequins and all kinds of things to put on them,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she motioned for an other woman to come over. “Glory Curtis, the pastor's wife, will take you back to the Sunday-school room and get you settled.”

Lizette watched the two children walk away with the pastor's wife.

“I can just wait out side until—” Judd began.

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she took them both by the arm. “The pastor has an adult Sunday-
school class, and today's topic is how to have a happy marriage.”

“Oh, but I'm not—” Lizette began.

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Hargrove said as she walked them for ward. “What he's going to say will apply to many relation ships in life.”

Judd decided that Mrs. Hargrove was wrong within five minutes of the pastor starting to talk. Judd had never had a relation ship in his life that sounded like what the pastor de scribed. His uncle certainly hadn't acted that way to ward him. He'd never had a friend who was like that. Certainly none of the women he'd met on the rodeo circuits had cared about him that way.

He'd never even heard things like the pastor read from the Bible. What kind of person did good things to the people who wanted to do bad things to them? That would be like if the Nutcracker guy just lay down and let the Mouse King dance all over him and then got up and thanked him for it. The world would be all lop sided if that kind of stuff started happening. A man could get all con fused about who his enemies really were.

“Inspiring,” was all Judd could think of to say when the pastor finished the les son and came over to greet him and Lizette.

“Very inspiring,” Lizette added.

The pastor chuckled. “I'll admit it doesn't make a
whole lot of sense at first. The one thing you'll learn about God though is that He turns things up side down a lot.”

Judd nodded. He wasn't sure he wanted to be standing here talking with the pastor about God. What he knew about God wouldn't fill an old lady's thimble, and he didn't want to appear ignorant in front of Lizette, especially not now that she'd taken his arm by the elbow. He doubted she even realized she was leaning into him a little. He liked the faint lilac perfume she was wearing. He wondered if it was okay to notice a woman's perfume in church. He supposed it was a sin. Of course, he couldn't ask. A man should al ready know something like that.

“We've got coffee out back in the kitchen,” the pastor said. “We've got some tables set up, and you're welcome to sit and have a cup while you wait for the kids to finish. We'll be starting church services in about fifteen minutes.”

Judd hadn't realized there was more to this church business than what he'd just sat through, but he wasn't about to say any thing.

“I could use a cup of coffee,” Lizette said.

The church kitchen was painted yellow and smelled like strong coffee. Mugs sat on the counter next to a big urn of coffee. Next to the coffee was an other urn that held hot water. A basket of various tea bags sat next to the hot-water urn. Several card
tables were set up on the wall opposite the cabinets. Folding chairs rested against the wall.

Judd and Lizette were the first ones in to get coffee. They both moved to ward the urn as if they were dying of thirst.

“I don't be long here,” Lizette burst out be fore she even got to the coffee mugs. “
You
don't be long? I don't even have a tie,” Judd muttered as he reached for a mug.

“Nobody here is wearing a tie—or a hat,” Lizette said. “There should be a book telling people what to expect in church.”

“I guess they just assume most people know those things,” Judd said as he held the mug. “Would you like coffee or tea?”

“Tea, please. And how would we know what to expect in church? I've never been to church be fore.”

Judd turned to fill the mug with hot water. “When you say you've never been to church, you just mean recently, don't you? I mean, I know you had a mother and a reason able family life—I thought all families went to church at some point.”

“Not ours.”

Judd handed Lizette the mug of hot water. “I'll let you pick the tea you want.”

Lizette pulled a lemon spice packet out of the basket and tore the paper wrap ping off the tea bag. She
put the bag in the hot water. “My mother was al ways mad at God. I don't think she had ever heard about any of the kinds of things the pastor was talking about back there.”

“I wonder if he knows what he's talking about,” Judd said as he poured him self a cup of coffee. Then he flushed. He might not know much about church etiquette, but he was pretty sure a visitor wasn't supposed to call the pastor a liar. “I mean, maybe something is translated wrong.”

Lizette nodded. “It is pretty odd, isn't it? But I imagine he knows what he's talking about. Mrs. Hargrove seems to trust him, and I noticed she carries a Bible around with her. She must read it and agree with the man.”

Judd nodded as they both walked over to one of the card tables. He had a tendency to trust Mrs. Hargrove. “It just must be that church is one of those things people like me don't understand.”

They both sat down.

“What do you mean by that?” Lizette had wrapped her hands around her cup of tea, but she was making no move to lift the cup and drink any of it. Her face looked serious.

Judd's heart stopped. Here he had been muttering to him self, never expecting any one to listen. It looked like Lizette had been listening.

“You keep saying ‘people like me' like you were
raised on Mars or something,” Lizette said with a smile. “You don't look that different to me.”

Judd swallowed. There had to be a lot of clever things to say to that kind of question. Pete would know something brash to say that would turn the moment into a chuckle. But Judd realized he didn't want to avoid the question. “I'm different because I was raised by an uncle who didn't care about me. He never once celebrated my birth day. What am I saying? He never even said ‘Good morning' or ‘How was your day?' or ‘Do you feel all right?' I could have laid down and died and he wouldn't have noticed except for the fact that the chores hadn't got ten done.”

“Oh.”

Judd plowed on. “I'm not saying that to say I had it worse than every one else, it's just that I'm different. A lot of things other men know—things like how to be part of a family—those are things I don't know.”