Their Wander Canyon Wish. Allie Pleiter

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       Chapter Two

      “The merry-go-round was still broken.” Maddie’s pout was as wide as Wander Canyon as they walked in the door of the Ralton family home.

      Marilyn’s mother looked up from her knitting. “You’re kidding. I was sure it’d be fixed by now.”

      You could have told me to check, Mom. Marilyn tried to tamp down as many disappointments as possible for her girls since moving back. It took a heroic effort to paint this move as a happy, positive step, and she needed all the help she could get.

      “But we got cupcakes,” Margie countered, holding up the box of coffee cake Marilyn had purchased for the following morning. “For free.”

      Dad came in from the backyard, wiping his hands on a towel that hadn’t been white since Marilyn was in high school. “Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

      “They weren’t exactly free.” Marilyn took the box from Margie and set it on the counter.

      “The nice fix-it man got ’em for us,” Margie explained, producing a “care to explain that?” look from Mom.

      “We met Wyatt Walker coming out of the carousel building. The cupcakes were his idea. He runs a tab at the Wander Bakery, evidently.”

      Mom’s scowl spoke volumes. “I don’t know who thought it would be a good idea to let Wyatt Walker try to fix that carousel. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised it’s still not running.” The carousel was a source of huge civic pride for the small town. Which made it not at all the kind of thing anyone would be quick to put Wyatt in charge of handling. Marilyn was ashamed to admit she’d had the same thought.

      “He’s supposed to be mechanically inclined, so maybe they thought it’d make sense,” Dad said. He peered into the bakery box and sniffed. “Cinnamon. My favorite.” He gave Margie a conspiratorial wink. “Should we connive to have some now?”

      Margie loved “conniving” with her grandfather. Both girls had terrific relationships with their grandparents. It was the only thing that eased coming back to Wander with her tail between her legs. Of course, Mom and Dad still didn’t know the half of it, and Marilyn hadn’t yet decided whether or not to keep it that way. Was it easier to bear if no one knew? Or would the secrets about Landon only fester? After all, her work in public relations had taught her that some secrets—actually most secrets—never quite stay hidden the way you’d like them to. But what would ever be gained by people knowing the truth about Landon? Surely it was better if the girls’ memory of their father remained the upstanding man most of Denver hailed him as.

      Marilyn plucked the box from her father’s grasp and set it up on top of a cabinet by the bread box. “This is for tomorrow. Little girls who had cupcakes for lunch don’t need to have coffee cake, too.”

      “Well, I didn’t have any cupcakes for lunch.” Grandpa adopted an oversize version of Maddie’s pout.

      “We had peanut butter and jelly, too,” Margie argued. Marilyn was glad the new young owner of the bakery Ruth used to own had offered to toss in a pair of PB&J sandwiches “on the house” to go along with Wyatt’s gift of cupcakes. It kept lunch from being a total nutrition loss. She’d felt compelled to buy the coffee cake just to be nice in return.

      “All in all, sounds like a pretty good afternoon for a failed carousel trip,” Dad declared.

      “Mr. Wyatt’s gonna call Mama when it’s fixed so we can get the first ride,” Maddie announced.

      Mom’s eyebrow went up. “Is he, now? Got your phone number, did he?”

      “No, he did not.” When the girls looked as if this might dampen their chances for the first post-repair ride, Marilyn added, “He knows we’re staying with you, so if he wants to make good on his offer, he can.”

      That brought an alarmed look from Maddie. “Won’t he?”

      Don’t, Marilyn warned Mom with her eyes. Let them just think of Wyatt as the nice man who’s fixing the carousel. They don’t need to know we both know he won’t keep that promise.

      Dad stepped in. “Well, if he doesn’t, I’ll take you there myself the second I hear it’s up and running. After all, it’s been too long since I’ve been on a porcupine.”

      Margie’s eye went wide. “I forgot about the porcupine!”

      “Best carousel porcupine ever,” Dad said. After a second, he shrugged and added, “Maybe the only carousel porcupine ever.” He looked at Marilyn. “You favored the ostrich, didn’t you, sweetheart?”

      “Mr. Wyatt guessed wrong on all of ours,” Margie pronounced. “I don’t think he’s very good at it, even though he said he was.”

      “Imagine that,” Mom muttered under her breath as she finished a row and turned her work.

      “Why don’t you run upstairs and get your crayons so you can get started on those coloring books we bought at Redding’s?” Buying a toy at the town general store after a ride on the carousel was one of the fixtures of Marilyn’s childhood. It felt good to at least keep that part of their outing. And besides, it was next to the Wander Chamber of Commerce, where she’d dropped off her resume. She couldn’t sit around and play grieving widow forever.

      Mom set down her knitting as the girls barreled past her toward the stairs. “How’d it go with Gail?”

      Gail from the Chamber of Commerce had been kind and polite, but how much staff did a small-town organization need? Marilyn couldn’t honestly say if the woman had taken her resume out of genuine interest or as a favor to her mother. Did it really matter which? “She said she’d look at it and keep an ear open for possibilities.”

      “Sounds promising,” Dad said.

      “Sure,” Marilyn agreed, even though she didn’t. She opted to change the subject. “So what’s the story with Wyatt Walker off his family’s ranch?”

      “Foolish boy,” Mom said, rising to put the kettle on for tea. Marilyn found Wyatt a bit long in the tooth—and long on masculine looks—to be called a boy. The way Mom said it, you’d think Wyatt had just been caught smoking outside the high school gym. Which, come to think of it, he had been. Multiple times.