Twelve
“So you’re really going,” Skip said as he picked up Rorie’s bags. “Somehow I figured I might’ve talked you into staying on for the county fair.”
“You seem intent on bringing me to ruin, Skip Franklin. I’m afraid I’d bet all my hard-earned cash on those pig races you were telling me about,” Rorie teased. Standing in the middle of the master bedroom, she surveyed it to be sure she hadn’t forgotten anything.
A pang of wistfulness settled over her as she slowly looked around. Not for the first time, Rorie felt the love and warmth emanating from these brightly papered walls. Lazily, almost lovingly, she ran her fingertips along the top of the dresser, letting her hand linger there a moment, unwilling to pull herself away. This bedroom represented so much of what she was leaving behind. It was difficult to walk away.
Skip stood in the doorway impatiently waiting for her. “Kate phoned and said she’s coming over. She wants to say goodbye.”
“I’ll be happy to see her one last time.” Rorie wished Skip would leave so she could delay her parting with this room a little longer. Until now, Rorie hadn’t realized how much sleeping in Clay’s parents’ room had meant to her. Her appreciation had come too late.
“Mary’s packing a lunch for you,” Skip announced with a wry chuckle, “and knowing Mary, it’ll be enough to last you a week.”
Rorie smiled and reluctantly followed him down the stairs. As Skip had claimed, the housekeeper had prepared two large bags, which sat waiting on the kitchen table.
“Might as well take those with you, too,” Mary muttered gruffly. “I hate the thought of you eating restaurant food. This, at least, will stick to your ribs.”
“Goodbye, Mary,” Rorie said softly, touched by the housekeeper’s thoughtfulness. On impulse she hugged the older woman. “Thank you for everything—including our talk this morning.” The impromptu embrace surprised Rorie as much as it obviously did Mary.
“You drive careful now, you hear?” the housekeeper responded, squeezing Rorie tightly and patting her back several times.
“I will, I promise.”
“A letter now and again wouldn’t be amiss.”
“All right,” Rorie agreed, and used her sleeve to blot tears from the corners of her eyes. These people had touched her in so many ways. Leaving them was even more difficult than she’d imagined.
The housekeeper rubbed the heel of her hand over her right eye. “Time for you to get on the road. What are you doing standing in the kitchen chitchatting with me?” she asked brusquely.
“I’m going, I’m going.” Mary’s gruff voice didn’t fool Rorie. The housekeeper’s exterior might be a little crusty, and her tongue a bit surly, but she didn’t succeed in disguising a generous, loving heart.
“I don’t know where Clay is,” Skip complained after he’d loaded the luggage into the MG’s trunk. “I thought he’d want to see you before you left. I wonder where he got off to.”
“I’m...sure he’s got better things to do than say goodbye to me.”
“No way,” Skip said, frowning. “I’m going to see if I can find him.”
Rorie’s first reaction was to stop Skip, then she quickly decided against it. If she made too much of a fuss, Skip might suspect something. She understood what had prompted Clay to stay away from the house all morning, and in truth she was grateful. Leaving Elk Run was hard enough without prolonging the agony in lengthy farewells.
Skip hesitated, kicking at the dirt with the pointed toe of his cowboy boot. “You two didn’t have a fight or anything, did you?”
“No. What makes you ask?”
Skip shrugged. “Well... It’s just that every time I walked into a room with the two of you, I could feel something. If it wasn’t for Kate, I’d think my big brother was interested in you.”
“I’m sure you’re imagining things.”
“I suppose so,” Skip said with a nod, dismissing the notion. “Ever since you got here, though, Clay’s been acting weird.”
“How do you mean?”
“Sort of cranky.”
“My unexpected arrival added to his problems, don’t you think?” In so many ways it was the truth, and she felt guilty about that. The responsibilities for the farm and for raising Skip were sobering enough; he didn’t need her there to wreak havoc with his personal life.
“You weren’t any problem,” Skip answered sharply. “In fact, having you around was fun. The only trouble is you didn’t stay long enough.”
“Thank you, Skip.” Once again she felt her throat clog with tears. She was touched by his sweet, simple hospitality and reminded of how much she’d miss him.
“I still kinda wish you were going to stay for the fair,” he mumbled. “You’d have a good time, I guarantee it. We may not have all the fancy entertainment you do in San Francisco, but when we do a county fair, we do it big.”