Caribou Crossing by Susan Fox Page A

influence on Jessica. Besides, her daughter deserved some fun. She sure wasn’t getting it with her mom these days.
    And that made Miriam feel guilty. Everything made her feel guilty. She should be healing faster. If only she could pull her feet out of the quicksand and shed the heavy gray blanket that weighed her down.
    Maybe she couldn’t yet stop feeling like an empty shell, but at least she could pretty up the exterior. She had to make more of an effort. When she got back to the ranch, she would shower, wash her hair, and put on clean clothes. When Wade came in from haying, she’d be more animated. She’d tell him about lunch with her friends, share all the news. Make him happy. Wade, too, deserved some happiness.

Chapter 11
    Body aching from a long day of haying—thank God the early crop had done well—Wade headed into the house for a quick dinner.
    Miriam was in the kitchen, and his heart lifted at the sight of her. She’d changed from her usual sweats into shorts and a green T-shirt, and her long, curly hair was clean and shiny. Combined with the tan she’d acquired in the garden, she looked almost like his real wife, the pretty, vibrant, happy one. “Hey, honey, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
    She smiled. “And you’re so covered in hay you look like a scarecrow.”
    He chuckled. “Let me grab a quick shower and I’ll be right back.” Though his muscles were exhausted, he still took the stairs at a run, fearful that by the time he returned, she’d have lost her rare sparkle.
    But no, when he came down, clean and changed, and gave her a hug, she returned it warmly. Standing in the bright kitchen, his arms around her and hers around him, he wanted to never let her go, to hang on to this one perfect moment.
    But Jessie and Evan came in from outside, and Miriam broke away to greet them. “Dinner’s almost ready,” she said. “You two wash up, then please set the table.”
    Normal. It felt so blessedly normal—the old, wonderful normal—as Miriam sliced beans, Evan put dishes and cutlery on the table, and Jessie poured milk for all of them. Wade leaned against the counter near his wife. “How was your day?” he dared to ask.
    â€œI went in for groceries, and to pick up Evan, and I ran into Connie. I had lunch with her and Jane and Frances. At that new coffee shop, The Gold Pan. Have you been there?”
    He shook his head. The days were so full, he barely had time to whip into town for supplies once a week. Besides, there was no spare cash for restaurant meals. Not that he begrudged her one bit; seeing her girlfriends had invigorated her.
    She started talking about Jane, who was now engaged to another lawyer, then Evan said, “Excuse me, Mrs. Bly, but the potatoes are boiling dry. Do you want me to serve them?”
    â€œOh!” She spun, gazed at the stove. “No, thanks, Evan. I’ll get them.”
    Quickly she drained the boiled new potatoes, which were soft, almost mushy now, rather than firm. But they’d taste fine with butter and salt, which Evan had already put on the table.
    Miriam put the green beans in the microwave and took a baking dish of pork chops from the oven, and within minutes they were all seating themselves at the table.
    Wade smiled across the table at his wife. “Dinner looks great.” He missed the days when she served meat loaf, lasagna, casseroles, and stir-fries, but at least she was shopping for groceries and putting dinner on the table each night. “Finish what you were saying about your friends, hon. You told me about Jane. What are Frances and Connie up to?”
    â€œFrances is dating a guy who lives in Vancouver, so she’s down there every weekend. They eat at great places, go to shows. She’s having so much fun. And Connie and her husband are going to Hawaii during Christmas break. Doesn’t that sound great? We should do something like