The Healing Touch by Heather MacKenzie-Carey
Chapter 6
As they approached the house Tory saw her father sitting on the front step absently patting Rusty while he drank a bottle of pop and watched Clara drive her shiny red Jeep down the driveway and back to her house. He seemed to be in deep thought, maybe visiting ghosts from the past, and didn’t even notice Clara and Nan until they were at the bottom step.
In an excited rush, Tory started to tell him all about her day, including the addition of G.G. and her new accomplishments as a barn hand. As she collapsed on the step beside him he seemed to come out of his daydream and squeezed her close to him.
“Grandma Nan, who is this and what did you do with my daughter Tory,” he teased? “Who is this person who is excited about horses and knows all about tack and jumps and hay and feed? You’ve traded my daughter for some dirty stable hand.”
Grandma Nan winked at Tory and said, “Watch out or we’ll make a cowboy out of you yet!” With that Grandma Nan appeared to re-energize, and she pushed herself off the porch railing and opened the front door. “Time to get supper happening,” she said. “You two wash up and then come help with the cooking. Everyone’s got to do their share around here.”
Tory’s Dad gave her another squeeze and neither of them moved from the stairs. When Grandma Nan had disappeared into the house, Tory’s Dad said, “So you really had a good day Pumpkin? Grandma Nan didn’t push you too hard did she?”
Tory felt a lump in her throat. It had been a long time since her Dad had called her Pumpkin and the old nickname sounded good.
“I had a great day,” Tory said. “I think I really like horses.” She thought of poor scared G.G. “They just need love and understanding. Why don’t you come with me and meet G.G. after supper?”
“We’ll see,” said her Dad. “I’ve got some news too. But I’m starving. I’ll tell you both over supper.” He stood up and pulled Tory up with him. Tory could feel every muscle in her body strain with the effort of just moving. Supper followed by a long bubble bath and a soft bed was going to feel really good.
Grandma Nan was already in the kitchen when Tory came back downstairs cleaned up somewhat, wearing the blue plaid flannel paints that her Dad always said looked like pajamas, and a fuzzy pink sweatshirt. She was carrying St. Albert in her arms. He had been sleeping peacefully in the sun on her windowsill when she went up to her room. Tory poured food into his white porcelain dish with the crown on it. St. Albert glanced at Rusty, swished his tail at him, and then regally settled in to eat his supper like the king he figured he was. Tory marveled at St. Albert’s ability to adjust so quickly. It was as if St. Albert had lived on the farm all his life.
Grandma Nan had potatoes boiling on the stove, and chicken cooking in the oven. She was cutting apples for a crumble desert. She directed Tory to start making a tossed salad from the greens, tomatoes and cucumbers they had picked from the garden earlier. Tory’s father was setting the table and filling water glasses. Everybody seemed quite at home and comfortable with their chores. It seemed to Tory that Grandma Nan had a real way of making everyone feel useful and part of things. Grandma Nan didn’t do things for people; she got them involved so they could do things for themselves.
Thirty minutes later they were sitting around the table with what looked like a feast to Tory and her Dad. “A little better than the fast food stuff we’ve been eating lately eh Tory,” said her father. “The only lettuce or tomato we’ve seen in awhile has been squished between hamburgers and buns. That’s assuming this green stuff is lettuce of some kind,” he said as he raised his eyebrows at Grandma Nan. “I’m never sure what might come out of your garden.”
“Not much choice but to eat what you grow and cook around here,” said Grandma Nan. “The only place that qualifies for fast food is the grocery store in town.” Folks have to make their own hamburgers and pizzas here on the island.”
Tory was starting to understand why her mother might have wanted to leave although she still couldn’t imagine why she wouldn’t have come back to visit at least. The idea of calling a place town when you couldn’t even buy fast food didn’t really seem to make any sense. But Tory’s father pulled her away from her thoughts with his news.
“So, I’ve got everything worked out at the fire hall,” he said. “I’m the senior medic out here. In fact, I’m the only medic. The rest of the guys on shift and some of the volunteers have some first aid training but not much. So in addition to running the calls with my regular crew, I’m going to be doing a lot of extra training for the guys. I’ve also agreed to carry a radio and be on call anytime they have something serious that they need me for. I hope you guys are okay without me around a lot,” he said as he looked down at his plate and start shoveling in food.
Tory saw Grandma Nan purse her lips, as she suddenly seemed to need to check on the apple cobbler, which was doing just fine. Tory had come to realize that pursed- lips- look meant Grandma Nan had something on her mind that she knew she shouldn’t or wouldn’t say. Tory felt a stab of irritation herself.
“So what else is new,” Tory said. “You were working all the time back home too.” As soon as she said it she felt guilty and sorry. She didn’t mean to make her father feel bad, but she had thought things were going to be different here and she liked spending time with him. Maybe she should learn to purse her lips more often!
Tory’s Dad opened his mouth to comment, and no doubt argue, when they were all startled by the tones going off on his radio. They listened as the rescue unit was dispatched to a farmhouse. It appeared a four-year-old child was missing and a search was being organized. The responding crew notified the dispatcher that they were on their way. No one asked for her Dad, but somehow Tory wasn’t surprised when he jumped from the chair, squeezed her shoulder quickly, and said, “I’d better go guys. We’ll talk about this later. I won’t be long.”
Grandma Nan and Tory listened in silence as Tory’s Dad took off down the driveway in a hurry, driving the pickup truck he had bought in town without even asking Tory what she thought of it, let alone offering her a drive.
“Well, cobbler’s ready,” Grandma Nan said, a bit louder than was necessary in the suddenly quiet house.
The apple cobbler was delicious and after Grandma Nan and Tory had each had two pieces they got started on the clean up.
“You know it sure is good to have someone else around this big old place Tory, even if it is only one of you instead of the two of you. I’ve been alone for too long. Once Clara goes home this place seems a bit big and quiet for Old Rusty and me. Plus, you’re just plain ole good company I guess.” Grandma Nan gave Tory a big bear hug, and Tory couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw her brush away a tear.
“I think I’ll go take a bit of a walk before I have a bath,” said Tory as she pulled on her now filthy barn sneakers.
“Better take a carrot if you’re going to see her,” said Grandma Nan.
It wasn’t until she was leaning over the fence watching G.G. and wishing that her father were with her that Tory realized Grandma Nan had known exactly where she was going without Tory telling her.
After a long hot bubble bath Tory snuggled into the pink bedroom with a book called Healing Horses Naturally. Grandma Nan had offered Tory anything and everything from her well stocked library. Tory decided to read until her Dad got home. When she felt the covers being pulled up around her she woke to see her father sitting on her bed. The bedside clock said 2:17a.m.
“Go back to sleep Pumpkin,” her Dad said as he closed the book she had been reading hours before and placed in on her bedside table before shutting off the light.
“Did you find the little boy,” Tory mumbled still mostly asleep?
“Yeah,” her Dad said. “We sure did.”
Tory woke up a bit more and asked, “Was he hurt? Is he okay? Where did you find him?”
“Yeah, he’s okay. Guess he was playing hide and seek. He was hungry but not hurt. His Mom and Dad sure are happy to see him snuggled in t
“Poor guy,” mumbled Tory and the last thing she felt was her father kiss her forehead and St. Albert’s weight on her legs, before she fell into a deep sleep.