Montana Creeds: Tyler Read Free

the hospital. She wasn’t being fair. Her dad had suffered a serious coronary incident, and the doctors and nurses at Missoula General had warned her that depression was common in patients who suddenly found themselves dependent on other people for their care.
    Hal Ryder had been doing what he pleased, at least since the divorce. Now, he needed her, a near stranger, to fix his meals, sort out his prescriptions, which were complicated, and see that he didn’t try to mow his lawn or fling himself back into his thriving practice before he was ready.
    â€œLily?” he prompted.
    â€œNo,” she said, after thumbing back through her thoughts for the original question. “There’s no man, Hal.”
    â€œMom’s a black widow,” Tess explained earnestly.
    Hal chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far, cupcake,” he told his granddaughter.
    For a reason Lily couldn’t have explained, her eyes filled with sudden, scalding tears—and she blinked them away. Tears were dangerous on a busy freeway, and besides that, they never made things better. “I’m a widow, ” Lily corrected her daughter calmly. “A black widow is a spider.”
    â€œOh,” Tess said, digesting the science lesson. Shebegan to thump her sandaled heels against the front of her seat, something she did when she was impatient for the drive to be over.
    â€œStop,” Lily told her.
    A few moments of silence passed. Then Tess went on. “My daddy died when I was four,” she announced.
    â€œI know, sweetheart,” Hal said, his voice tender and a little gruff.
    Lily’s throat ached. She’d filed for divorce, after a tearful call from Burke’s latest girlfriend, whom he’d apparently dropped. Would he still be alive if she’d waited, agreed to more marriage counseling, instead of calling a lawyer right after hanging up with the mistress? Would her child still have a father?
    Tess had adored her dad.
    â€œHis plane hit a bridge,” Tess said.
    â€œTess,” Lily said gently, “could we talk about this later, please?”
    â€œYou always say that.” Tess sighed; she’d been born precocious, but since Burke’s death, she’d been wise beyond her years, an adult in a first-grader’s body. “But later never comes.”
    â€œYou can talk to Grampa,” Hal said, slanting another look at Lily. “ I’ll listen.”
    Helpless rage filled Lily; her hands, still damp with perspiration even though the air conditioner had finally kicked in, tightened on the steering wheel. I listen, she wanted to protest. I love my child, unlike some people I could name.
    To her surprise, her dad reached across the consoleand patted her arm. “Maybe you ought to pull over for a few minutes,” he said. “Get a grip.”
    â€œI have a grip,” Lily said stiffly, drawing a very deep breath, letting it out and purposely relaxing her shoulders.
    â€œI’m hungry,” Tess said. She never whined, but she was teetering on the verge. No doubt she was picking up on the tension between the adults in the front seat.
    Definitely not good.
    â€œWe’ll be in Stillwater Springs in under an hour,” Lily said, keeping her tone light. “Can you hold out till we get there?”
    â€œI guess,” Tess said. “But then we’ll have to stop at a supermarket and everything. Grampa told me there’s no food in the house.”
    Lily’s head began to pound. She glanced into the rearview mirror, to make eye contact with her daughter. “Okay, we’ll stop,” she said. “We’ll get off at the next exit, find one of those salad buffet places.”
    â€œRabbit food,” Hal murmured.
    â€œOne burger wouldn’t kill us,” Tess said.
    Whose side was the child on, anyway?
    â€œNo burgers,” Lily said firmly. “Fast-food places don’t offer organic beef.”
    â€œOh, for