Circle of Family. Mia Ross

“Okay. Two more, but that’s it.”

      “Till Kyle and Emily,” Lisa said.

      “Please.” Marianne groaned, only half joking. “Don’t marry my babies off just yet. I’m not ready.”

      Laughing, Lisa put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “Deal.”

      The affectionate gesture felt especially good this morning. Marianne was still unsettled, and she wasn’t sure why. She kept telling herself it was the prospect of adjusting to life at the farm without Matt, but she knew that wasn’t quite right. Accustomed to reasoning things through, she wasn’t adept at listening to her instincts. But she was smart enough to know they were trying to tell her something.

      She just couldn’t figure out what it was.

      The organist began with the opening chords of “How Great Thou Art,” and they all stood to sing. It was one of her favorite hymns, the first she’d learned after “Jesus Loves Me.” The comforting verses always made her think of her parents. Despite her mother’s tragic illness, her parents’ unshakable faith in God and each other had shown her what true love was all about.

      Now that they were both gone, she found herself turning to God even more often, relying on His strength in addition to her own. She had to be strong, to make sure Kyle and Emily wouldn’t miss the father who’d abandoned them and never looked back.

      As she had since she was a little girl, she stared at the stained-glass window over the altar, admiring the vibrant colors of Jesus and the animals surrounding Him. To her, that picture represented His infinite wisdom and endless compassion for every creature on earth. The hymn came to an end, and she felt her tangled thoughts starting to unravel.

      Despite her still-baffling mood and the uncertainty about her job, a genuine peace settled over Marianne’s heart, and tears of gratitude stung her eyes. She knew God saw every struggling sparrow, but it was nice to be reminded that He saw her, too.

      * * *

      They were all sitting down to lunch when the distant buzz of Ridge’s plane interrupted their conversation.

      “Can we go out and watch him land?” Kyle asked, already halfway out of his chair.

      A hundred percent male, he loved anything that went fast: Matt’s Harley, John’s Triumph convertible, now Ridge’s plane. She had to accept it, Marianne reminded herself. Her little boy was growing up, and she loved him too much to hold him back.

      Hoping her sudden funk didn’t show, she smiled. “Let’s all go.”

      With an excited whoop, he took off like a shot with Emily on his heels and the rest of them trailing behind. The kids ran down the lane until Marianne warned them to stop so they wouldn’t be too close to Betsy’s landing strip.

      Goodness, she berated herself. Now she was calling the plane by name. Clearly, Ridge’s nuttiness was contagious.

      After a minute or two, she noticed that Ridge wasn’t coming in to land. He was skimming low over their planted cornfields, spraying dust that would keep bugs and rot from destroying the crops as they grew. At the end of each long row, the plane looked like it couldn’t possibly pull up soon enough to avoid crashing into the woods. Yet somehow, Betsy made it every time.

      “That’s so awesome!” Kyle exclaimed, pointing into the distance so Emily could follow the runs. “Ridge must be the best pilot in the world.”

      Marianne didn’t know much about flying, but she admired his skill. He made the little plane dive like a hawk, then rise gracefully back into the air to circle around for another pass. Even though she had no desire to take a ride, she couldn’t help wondering what the sprawling Sawyer Farm looked like from the air.

      Ridge must have spotted them all standing there, because the plane banked and came toward the house. Waving from the open cockpit, he rocked the wings back and forth. Screaming and waving back, the kids jumped up and down with delight. She saw him grin before whipping into a full barrel roll that took him over their heads and perilously close to the tops of the trees.

      “He’s going to crash in the woodlot,” she predicted in a tight voice.

      “Nah,” John assured her with a grin. “Ridge knows what he’s doing.”

      Marianne wasn’t convinced of that. But she was certain that he’d once again turned her very carefully planned schedule upside down. “He was supposed to dust here tomorrow.”

      “Does it really matter?” John asked.

      “I close the windows when they dust,” she explained, “and make sure the kids aren’t here while all that pesticide is floating around.”

      “We really liked it, Mommy,” Emily added, looking up at her brother. “Didn’t we, Kyle?”

      “Yeah,” he breathed, eyes fixed on the plane as it looped around and came to rest on its makeshift runway. “Ridge is so lucky, being able to do that.”

      Even though she’d never admit it to anyone, Marianne couldn’t agree more. With her own confidence in tatters, she admired the courage Ridge showed in the air and on the ground. Fearless and confident, he seemed to assume that things would work out for the best. His fun-loving personality showed when he flipped the plane like it was a kite and began his descent.

      She was grateful for the life she and her children enjoyed, settled in this safe, cozy place. But she couldn’t help wondering how it felt to have the wind rushing past you while you flew through the clouds, free as a bird.

      * * *

      To avoid damaging the field any more than he had to, Ridge brought Betsy to a gentle stop in the same marks he’d already made. As he shut the engine down, he looked out to see a line of people headed his way, the kids running in front. He was seldom in one place more than a few weeks, so people didn’t usually make such a fuss over him. Between the wedding and today, he’d gotten more attention than he had in the last six months. For a habitual wanderer like him, it was kind of fun.

      “That was awesome!” Kyle said approvingly with a huge grin. “Did you see us waving?”

      “Sure did.” Ridge smiled at him and then Emily. “I wasn’t putting on a show for the corn, y’know.”

      While John complimented him, Ridge was only half listening. He was more curious about the expression on Marianne’s face. He was used to women being impressed with him, or at least with his flying. The problem was, she didn’t look impressed.

      She looked annoyed.

      For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine why. Then she filled in the blanks for him.

      “I thought you were dusting tomorrow.”

      Her clipped tone told him she was irritated with the change in plans, and he waited a beat to make sure he sounded professional. “The forecast is for rain tomorrow and Tuesday. I moved up my jobs to make sure they got done, so the spray wouldn’t get washed off before it had a chance to soak in and do its work.”

      The glacial temperature of her eyes warmed a little, and she nodded. “Well, that makes sense.”

      When the others headed back inside, she turned and followed them. As he fell in step beside her, Ridge took a shot at what might be bothering her.

      “Don’t worry about paying me,” he said. “I’ll be around.”

      “This farm is a business, and we pay people what we owe them when it’s due.”

      She refused to look at him, and he sighed in resignation. “I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just that Matt and I are friends, and I don’t want to make things tough on you. Financially,” he added, to be sure they were clear on that point. In the short time he’d known her, Marianne had struck him as someone who liked to dot her i’s and cross her t’s.

      She didn’t respond to that, and he figured it was best to keep quiet. Then she