Dry Creek Daddy. Janet Tronstad

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СКАЧАТЬ heroes? You know, from the cartoons?”

      Hannah shrugged. “He’s not a cartoon, but he’s partial to Davy Crockett.”

      Mark laughed in seeming delight. “A frontiersman?”

      “And he loves comic books,” Hannah said, smiling just seeing Mark so happy. “All of those bang-up wow characters are his favorites. The one that climbs walls like a spider and, of course, the cowboys that fight bank robbers. He refuses to go anywhere without at least a few of his comic books. He calls them his heroes.”

      “I used to like comics, too,” Mark said. “He and I are going to have fun.”

      With that, Mark picked up the jar and wrapped it up in the gunny sack her father had pulled from beneath the sink.

      Hannah stood there while Mark walked outside. Her father sat at the table for a few minutes before finally getting to his feet.

      “I’m glad Mark is helping us,” her father said as he looked at Hannah. “But I don’t want you to be getting too friendly with him. You and Jeremy need someone who will be there for you and not be going off to the hospital.”

      Hannah frowned. “He couldn’t help being in that coma.”

      Her father shook his head. “If it wasn’t a coma, it would have been something else. The Nelson men are no good when it comes to women. They stray—even tempting good women when they do. I won’t see you hurt again.”

      “I appreciate the concern,” Hannah said. Her father looked worried, but she didn’t understand why. “Mark has always been good to me.”

      “He’s a chip off the old block,” her father said. “First it was the wild drunkenness—just like his father. Old Man Nelson used to have those blackout spells, too, when he had too much to drink. Next it will be chasing women all over town. Believe me, I know what the Nelson men are capable of doing.”

      With that, her father limped out of the kitchen. “I best go see he gets that part on the combine right.”

      Hannah just stood where she was. She didn’t know what to think. Her father was bitter about something, but it had been that way since she and Mark were kids so it wasn’t the robbery. Whatever it was, it wasn’t fair to blame Mark for something his father must have done.

      She finally moved over to the window. Her father and Mark were walking out to the combine together. It didn’t look like they were talking, though. She figured the next two days would be quiet ones around here.

      She reached over to pick up the receiver on the black wall phone next to the kitchen cabinet.

      “Mrs. Hargrove?” Hannah said after she’d dialed the number and gotten an answer. She recognized the older woman’s voice immediately.

      “I’m wondering if you can bring Jeremy over to my dad’s house?” Hannah asked, figuring Mrs. Hargrove wouldn’t be surprised by the state of the living room walls. “My dad has a concussion and I’m watching him for the doctor or I’d drive back and get Jeremy.”

      “Oh, dear,” the older woman said. “What happened?”

      “He had a car accident,” Hannah said, realizing she never had gotten all of the details. “He cracked some ribs and hit his head.”

      “I’ll be right there,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “I’ll bring some of my herbal teas, too. One of them is good for headaches.”

      “And stay for lunch if you’d like,” Hannah said.

      The older woman sounded delighted and offered to bring the salad she’d planned to make for herself. “I doubt your dad has much food at his place,” she added. “I know how ranchers are at harvest time.”

      “I better check,” Hannah said as she stretched the phone cord so she could step over to the refrigerator and open it.

      “You’re right,” Hannah said after she surveyed the few items it held. “But I see a big block of cheese and I know he has some kind of pasta. There’s milk and some spices, too. I already planned to make macaroni and cheese. Jeremy’s favorite. With the salad, it’ll be perfect.”

      “I’ll stop by the café and get a few of their dinner rolls,” Mrs. Hargrove said. “I haven’t done my usual baking this week or I’d have some of my own to bring.”

      “Tell Lois I’ll pay for them when I come in tomorrow,” Hannah said. “Although I have to say that, from what I remember, your rolls are better. The café buys its bread.”

      Mrs. Hargrove gave a pleased laugh. “Jeremy and I will be there as soon as we can. Charley is up visiting one of his cousins today so we’re free as can be.”

      Mrs. Hargrove had married her good friend, Charley Nelson, when Hannah was a freshman in high school. Charley was Mark’s father’s cousin. The bride and groom had both been in their late sixties when they walked down the aisle, but Hannah loved the story of their courtship. She had wondered back then if she and Mark would ever be as much in love as the two of them. She was especially touched because Mrs. Hargrove announced she would be keeping the name she’d gone by for decades because she didn’t want to confuse the children of the town.

      As Hannah hung up the phone, she wondered if she would ever have a romance like the one Mrs. Hargrove had. The older woman assured her it was possible if Hannah didn’t give up on love. At the time she had promised Mrs. Hargrove that she wouldn’t. Of course, neither one of them knew what was going to happen. Mark’s coma had changed so many of Hannah’s hopes.

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