Letting Go (Triple Eight Ranch) - By Mary Beth Lee Page 0,42

the past three days all of the Triple Eight hands had stopped by to tell her how much they enjoyed the short time they spent with her mother. Other than the few people Momma had met in church, the ranch hands were the only ones who’d met Tammy Jo locally. People from their past wouldn’t think so highly of her. But as the ranch hands talked, she learned something about her mother. Facing her demons and getting her life straight so close to the end had been a testimony of sorts.

Paul wanted to make sure she knew that.

“Your momma could have forgiven herself easily if she’d have hurt those people by herself, Clarissa. But bringing you into it was unforgivable in her eyes. I told her thank God that wasn’t the way forgiveness worked. That if God held all our faults against us, weighed them and decided whether or not we were good enough now to make up for our pasts, a lot of us out here on the Triple Eight were in a world of hurt. We still have consequences for our sin, but they’re life consequences, not God ordained.”

His words lingered with Clarissa now. The talk of forgiveness so foreign. She hadn’t been sure she wanted God to forgive Tammy Jo for what she’d put them through. Hadn’t been sure she liked the idea of a God who let past sins go without retribution. The child in her who had stolen from others, conned everyone from politicians to pastors, the one who’d attracted the eye of Tammy Jo’s boyfriend and then been dumped on her grandmother didn’t want to think that could be wiped away so easily.

In the distance she watched the back door of the house open and Mackenzie scamper out and open the fence wider. Then she saw Paul pushing Moo out of Susie’s flowers.

The sight made her laugh, made her thankful for this time she’d had with the Dillons. The only real family she’d ever known.

As if her words conjured it, the sun broke through the clouds and a rainbow formed over the Dillon house.

Clarissa finished her biscuit and turned to go get ready.

Jed drove the truck up to the bunkhouse and prayed God would give him the words and actions to help Clarissa through this day.

But then Clarissa opened the door and his prayers changed to asking God to give him the strength to make it through the day. Clarissa wore a simple black dress that fit her curves perfectly. Her blonde her flowed across her shoulders. Black high heeled sandals showed her toes. She looked like a goddess.

“Clarissa sure is pretty, isn’t she,” Mack called from the back seat of the truck.

Jed swallowed before answering.

“She sure is, sport. She sure is.”

Fight for her.

This time when Jed heard the answer to his prayer, he resolved to do just that.

Jumping out of the truck he opened the passenger door for Clarissa. She said thank you, stepped inside. In her hands she held a small black bible.

“You look pretty in your dress, Clarissa,” Mack said. “Did you see the rainbow this morning? I bet it was your momma smiling down on us.”

“I bet you’re right Mackenzie,” Clarissa said, gripping the bible a little tighter.

“Now we both don’t got Momma’s,” Mack said matter-of-factly, and Jed’s heart constricted. Clarissa’s eyes cut to him, and he saw her worry.

“You’re right,” Clarissa said carefully, and he worried what Mack might say next. Before he could run interference and change the subject, his daughter powered on.

“You could be my next Momma, maybe. Then you could help me chase Moo outa Gram’s flower garden.”

For a heartbeat, silence filled the truck’s cabin. Maybe he and Mack needed to have a talk about appropriate types of conversation. If he lived through the mortification of this moment.

But then Clarissa smoothed everything over. “How about I help you chase Moo out of the garden regardless. At least until I move back to town.”

“You can’t move,” Mack said, and Jed wanted to add his approval to her words. “You might get glycema again. Or another tornado. And you’re my best friend.”

Clarissa wasn’t sure how to respond. She needed to say the right words. Words that wouldn’t give Mackenzie too much to hope for but wouldn’t hurt her either.

“I’ll still be your best friend when I move,” she said. “And I won’t have the hypoglycemia problem as long as I eat enough. And tornadoes are just part of living in Oklahoma.”

She tried not to look at Jed as

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