Pretend Mom by Rita Hestand Page B

town knows she's sweet on
you," Tom kidded, eyeing the front door as though he expected the
girl to materialize any moment.
    Mike's gaze flew to Dixie as he
chuckled good-naturedly. "I'm afraid Janet wouldn't be caught dead
with a frog in her hand. She's not the tomboy type."
    "Daddy, what's a tomboy?" Amanda jerked
on Mike's pants leg.
    "It's a girl who—never
mind."
    Dixie chuckled. She wasn't about to
reveal her feelings, but the news that Mike apparently had a
girlfriend shocked her. The fact that she cared shocked her even
more. It made sense that a man of his age with his good looks
wouldn't be available long. Janet Wilkinson was pretty high society
in Wylie. Mike was doing well for himself.
    Will cast Mike a strange frown. "Janet
doesn't have brothers. Dixie likes bein' with us. She probably
won't be home long, and we want to spend as much time as we can
with her. Besides, it ain't healthy to stay cooped up in the house
all the time!"
    Poor Will, Dixie thought, defending his
poor, lonely sister to the end. Boy, did she sound like a recluse.
And obviously Mike thought so, too, by his expression.
    "Which gig you want, sis?" Tom
asked.
    Glancing at the four gigs in his hand
Dixie reached out and claimed one. "I want the shortest one. I
can't balance the longer ones very well. Unless you're saving it
for Amanda."
    "No, she doesn't do any gigging, yet,"
Mike replied, rubbing his daughter's head
affectionately.
    The gear was incomplete without caps
and attached headlamps. They looked like a bunch of miners with
waders on.
    Not wanting to waste a minute, Dixie
led them to the creek. She held Amanda's hand, enjoying the way the
little girl seemed to be so receptive to her. Amanda chatted for a
long time, then became quiet, all of a sudden. Dixie sensed the
little girl might be afraid of the dark and took her to her
father's side.
    The creek just crossed the Tucker
property line. In fact, her father and old man Tucker had argued
for years as to where the line actually ran, or if there even was
one. Dixie heard her brothers lagging behind her, talking to Mike.
The sound of their laughter made her feel content.
    After a short while Dixie yelled back
at them, noticing that the lay of the land seemed to have changed.
But there was no reply. Only a dark silence filled the night,
except for the crickets chirping. When she looked behind her, there
was no one there. Where had they gone? Why had they left her? It
was so dark, only a soft blanket of stars lit her way. Yet,
something had changed, something was different about the trail, and
she didn't understand it. Crickets chirped and in the distance she
heard the mighty bullfrogs croaking.
    She started to call out, but quickly
shut her mouth when a tall black shadow loomed in front of her,
coming nearer.
    "Lost already?" came the slow drawl she
was becoming accustomed to.
    It was Mike. Grabbing at her chest, and
exhaling the caught breath she held, she sighed aloud with
relief.
    "I didn't mean to scare you." He
stretched out a hand to her—a warm, big hand that completely
covered hers.
    More disturbed by his tingling touch
than being lost, she tried to explain why she was suddenly lost in
familiar territory.
    "No, it's just I couldn't see my way in
the dark. I think my light went out. I thought I knew my way out
here so well," she said. "I guess it's been too long."
    "It certainly has." Mike's voice
sounded husky.
    His headlamp wasn't even on, and she
was thankful for the darkness.
    "Why don't you lead the way?" she
asked, her voice softening.
    "Sure, just stay close and follow me."
He cleared his throat and turned his lamp on. He hadn't let go of
her hand. Instead, he pulled her behind him.
    If her hand perspired, she would
die!
    "You weren't really lost," he said
quietly. "We just take a detour now. We've quit using this end of
the creek. Up until a few days ago it was too dry to do any good.
But, after that rain we had the other night, I imagine it's filling
up nicely. It's