Page 59 of The Fixer and the Fugitive

“My husband is a cattle rancher. If we don’t have at least a ton of beef in the freezer at all times, along with the complete ingredients for impromptu chili, the Montana Cattlemen’s Association will show up and drag him away in the night.” She turned and walked away before Celeste could protest or even respond. All she could do was trail helplessly in her wake. Theypiled in her truck. She remained silent until they were out of Paradise because it seemed like Maybe was the type of person who was easily distracted and shouldn’t talk while trying to navigate parking lots and pedestrians.

“If you already have all the ingredients for chili, why were you at the market?” Celeste asked.

“I went to see if they had any fresh fish,” Maybe said.

“I didn’t think the market here carried fish,” Celeste said.

“They don’t, but I’m optimistic. One of these days when I decide I’d like to have something other than beef, some fresh cod or mahi-mahi will magically dangle from the grocery’s ceiling like a thought bubble,” Maybe said.

“Are there any vegetarians here?” Celeste asked.

“Sure. Except here we call them cows,” Maybe said, smiling at Celeste when she laughed. “So how’s the orchard going? Jack said he put some parts on order for you.”

“A lot of parts, I think. He’s a sweet kid.”

“He is that,” Maybe said nodding her agreement. “It’s kind of a crapshoot when they’re little, you know? You do the best you can and hope they turn out okay, and then when they do it’s like winning the best lottery in the world. Moving to Montana was the best decision I ever made. No, one of the best decisions. Having them to begin with was pretty great, and marrying Baird, of course.”

“Baird isn’t their father?” Celeste guessed.

“Not biologically, but they’re all pretty close. And they call him Dad, even Jack now sometimes. He was the lone holdout, not wanting to trample his dad’s memory. My first husband was killed in an embassy attack.”

“Dar es Salaam?” Celeste said.

Maybe turned to her in shocked surprise. “How do you know that? Nobody ever knows that. It was like it never happened here.”

“I was there. I saw the plaque with the names of the soldiers who died.”

Maybe blinked at her, speechless.

“I was in the army. I went a lot of places,” Celeste explained.

“But you’re so adorable, like a little sugar glider or something,” Maybe said.

“The cuter you are, the more places they let you go,” Celeste said, smiling when Maybe snorted a laugh.

“Wow, I can’t believe you saw the plaque. I’ve only ever seen a picture of it, and of course I have the flag. Rather, Jack has the flag. Would you mind telling Jack sometime that you’ve seen it? It’s always been a big deal to him, the fact that his father died a hero.”

“I can only imagine,” Celeste said. “And I’d be happy to talk to him about it.”

They’d been driving a while, in the opposite direction Celeste usually went. “Is your house far?”

“It’s about another forty minutes. This is our land, though.”

Now it was Celeste’s turn to be speechless. She looked out the window at acre after acre of fencing, dotted by the occasional cow. “All of this land belongs to you?”

“Technically Baird, but I guess legally it’s half mine. Still feels weird to think that. And someday it will belong to my kids, Baird’s already drawn up his will to sort out the legalities. If you knew where I came from.” Maybe paused and stared thoughtfully through the front windshield.

“Somewhere bad?” Celeste asked, somewhat hopefully. She was always looking for a fellow trauma survivor. If someone like Maybe could overcome a bad childhood, there was definitely hope for her.

“No, nothing like that. I had a good life with good parents and a good, if somewhat boring, older brother. But I got married two weeks after I graduated high school and had my first babynine months later, followed by two more in two years. My husband was gone because of the army, of course. And then he was really gone, killed when the kids were three, two, and almost one. And then my mom died that same year. My dad got remarried immediately and moved to Florida, along with my brother. I thought I understood what it was like to be a single mother while my husband was deployed, but then I had a new understanding of the wordalone. I coped by doing what needed to be done, every day, day after day after day. I got up, went to work, did all the heavy lifting and hard work of parenting, made the Halloween costumes and birthday cupcakes, drove the kids to various lessons and events.”

“How did you end up here?” Celeste asked when Maybe paused and became thoughtfully silent with remembrance.

“My great uncle died and left me his house, a should-have-been-condemned heap of junk. To this day I have no idea what shook me out of my stupor and made me think I should come here and start over. A miracle, probably, because I had gotten so used to being numb I could barely feel the strain and stress and pain of life anymore. And then I came here and it was terrible, at least at first. The kids were miserable and I was gobsmacked with confusion, completely overwhelmed by culture shock. And then Baird stepped in like some kind of avenging angel, rescuing us all in different ways, in the ways we needed to be rescued. And I, able to breathe and relax and not have to be ‘on’ for the first time in eighteen years, had a complete and total breakdown. Really freaky stuff, like my brain and body broke. Completely bonkers.” She tapped her head and faced forward, shaking her head.

Celeste stared at her, unable to believe someone as sweet and vibrant as Maybe not only had a breakdown but felt free enough to share it with a stranger.

“What happened to make you better?” Celeste asked, wondering if she should take out a paper and pen and take notes so she could apply it to her own life.

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