Eleven #2
Jackie drew in a startled gasp of surprise.
Beck couldn’t be distracted by what she must be thinking about this conversation.
Land and who owned it. How she’d be expecting to lose what she thought was hers.
How Beck kept ownership clear and real. Mostly, giving some things to a man who likely didn’t deserve them.
But he kept his attention on Clint.
“I’m not offering out of pity,” Beck said. “I’m offering because you saved this boy, and because I’d rather you had something to be proud of and stop chasing what was never yours.”
Clint yanked the cigarette out of his mouth. “I don’t want charity from no Archers.”
Beck shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
He took Jackie’s elbow and turned to leave.
“Wait,” Clint snapped.
Beck turned back again.
“I’ll think on it, okay?” Clint bit off the words. “I’ll think on it.”
“You do that.” Beck nodded, tasting victory, after all. “The offer stands. Now, go on. Get in your truck and drive out of here. We’d appreciate it if you didn’t come back. No one needs any more trouble.”
Still keeping Jackie at his side, they headed toward the clearing.
But a few steps in, Beck halted and glanced back.
Clint had moved through the timber toward his truck, barely visible through the pines.
Seemed his shoulders weren’t set as defiant as they’d been.
His step lighter, too. Might be the offer of some help had given him hope.
“That was a merciful thing you did, Beck. Offering him a way forward,” Jackie said after they resumed walking. “Not everyone would’ve been so generous.”
“Maybe somebody should have done the same for him sooner.”
“But it mattered more coming from you.”
The warmth that stole through Beck from her softly spoken approval was quickly dimmed by the knowledge he still owed Jackie an offer of his own—one that would steady her future as surely as his had steadied Clint’s.
Or so he hoped.
By the time they broke free of the trees, voices carried toward them. His parents hurried across the pasture, Eli right behind, their strides swifter than Beck was accustomed to seeing. Swift enough he worried they’d fall over the uneven ground.
“We saw Jackie’s plane circling, then her landing,” Joe huffed. “Figured she’d seen something, good or bad.” He slowed, the closer he got. “Had to see for ourselves what was happening in those trees.”
Beck’s mother reached them first. “Oh, Timmy.” Tears trailed down her cheeks. “My sweet boy. Come to Grandma.”
She plucked him right out of Beck’s arms and crushed him to her, so tightly he squirmed and pushed against her.
“Better ease up on him some, Ruthie,” Joe chuckled breathlessly. “The boy needs to breathe.” He reached for his grandson. “Let me hold him now.”
Ruthie relinquished him, heaved a watery sigh, and pressed a corner of her apron to her eyes. “What a day. Oh, Beck. Lonnie just called. Mary Sue had a baby girl.” She shook her head in amazement. “I don’t know if my heart can hold all the good we’ve been handed.”
“A female Archer.” Marveling, Beck cocked his hip at the news. “I’ll be.”
“Where’d you find the boy?” Eli asked, catching up.
Beck’s attention swiveled. “Up by the ridge. Clint Varner got to him first.” He spared his parents Jackie’s suspicions of another fire scare. And how close Timmy had come to falling. “He was good and lost, for sure.”
“Clint Varner!” his father exclaimed.
Beck relayed the brief encounter. The hopes he had for the man’s change in attitude and betterment of his life. That, with time and honest work before him, Clint’s resentment toward the Archers would loosen its hold and fade for good.
Ruthie turned to Jackie then, taking her hand in both of her own. “If not for you, we might not have found Timmy in time.” Her eyes filled again. “We’ll never forget it. Thank you.”
“We owe you a great deal,” Joe added, his tone fervent.
Jackie shook her head and pulled away. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m just grateful I could be in the air to see what I did.”
Beck regretted he hadn’t noticed how she stood off to the side, away from their family circle, as if she believed she didn’t belong. He should have. Troubled by it, he reached for her, but she evaded his grasp.
“I have to go,” she told him quietly. Firmly.
Ruthie’s smile disappeared. “Oh, honey, must you? At least stay long enough—”
“—for pie and coffee,” Joe said. “Ruthie just baked—”
“No, thank you. I can’t. I really have a lot of work to do at home. Hang laundry and stuff….”
Before Beck could convince her otherwise, she swiveled and hurried across the pasture, as if she couldn’t reach her waiting plane fast enough.
It wasn’t often Jackie didn’t feel the excitement of flying, but after leaving the Archers, the wheels touched down, and all she felt was loss.
She taxied forward on the airstrip and swung the Cub around, maneuvering the plane with its nose toward the pasture and the tail toward the hangar doors she hadn’t taken the time to close.
After braking, she shut down, opened the cockpit door, and climbed off the wing.
Her aircraft was light enough to push into the hangar by herself, and she’d done it more times than she could count. She’d no sooner put her hands on the nose and leaned into it when a Ford pickup pulled up in her yard.
“I’ll help you,” Beck said, getting out and shutting the door. He sprinted toward her. “Got to be heavy for you.”
“It’s not.” She straightened, her heart taking a funny leap that he’d followed her so quickly. “It’s easy.”
“I’m going to help anyway.”