“Right. And yes, I can do that. I love that they’re interested in working with therapy horses!”
“That’s a major reason they’re coming here,” he replied. “We’re developing a reputation in that area. I have another question, though. Obviously I can’t make the guest suite available to them. And don’t even suggest sleeping in the den.” He didn’t bother to mention the junk room, which had been his bedroom as a boy. “The Big Sky Inn is far too costly. But what would you think about approaching Russ, ask him if he’d be willing to get a couple of rooms fixed up? I’ll help absorb the cost, plus their stay.”
Everyone and, most important, Shallie, applauded the plan. She said this would be good for Russ and volunteered to help clean, as did Tina and Carly. Mitch offered to handle any small repairs. “I’ll call him right now,” Shallie announced. “If he’s agreeable, we’ll start next week.”
She called. He was, and plans were made.
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, Cord had just finished his first long coffee in the kitchen, dogs fed and “outed,” as Carly liked to call it, when the phone rang—Ted Lewis. “Hi, Cord. How ya doin’?”
“Okay. You?”
“Same. Listen, I have a favor to ask. Could The GateCrashers have a small concert at your place in August? The twenty-fourth? Two reasons. It’ll be part of the celebration for Tina’s sixty-fifth birthday, which is on the twenty-third—”
“Holy crap!” Cord interrupted. “I’d forgotten all about that.”
“Oh, trust me, there are plenty of us who would’ve reminded you, including Tina herself, I’ll bet. The other reason is that we’re all really impressed with Carly and want to officially include her.”
“Great! Yeah, we’ll definitely do that. What about rehearsals?”
“We’ll set up a few—maybe one or two at your place?” When Cord murmured a yes, Ted continued, “Would you let her know? Also, if Carly has any songs of her own...”
“I’ll tell her, and I’ll encourage her to start writing songs, if she hasn’t already.”
Cord tried calling her. No answer, so he left a message, then hurried out to the stables.
* * *
STILL IN BED, Carly received Cord’s message and almost burst into tears yet again. Had she ever cried more in her life? But for completely different reasons that had nothing to do with feelings of grief and rejection. It was the kindness of these people, their boundless generosity.
She pulled on her stretch jeans and a blue-and-green-plaid cotton shirt, one of the few pieces of clothing she had that used to belong to her mom. Then she flounced into the kitchen, self-conscious and at the same time ecstatic.
“Hey,” Mitch said, raising his cup. “You look happy as all get-out.”
“I am! Did you hear I’m going to be singing with The GateCrashers?” She didn’t mention Tina’s birthday, since she wasn’t sure if this was planned as a surprise.
Tina didn’t mention it, either, merely smiled as she poured her a coffee with, as usual, the perfect amount of cream. “Aaron told me. Plus, they want you to write a song or two of your own.”
“I know! And I want to!”
“Any ideas?” Mitch asked.
“I’ll get serious about it today. When we come back from cleaning the motel...”
Tina smiled again. “Good for you, kiddo! And I’ll lay odds that there’ll be something about animals in at least one of your songs.”
Cord-like, Carly rolled her eyes. “Gee, am I really that obvious?”
“Yep,” Mitch said cheerfully. “Sure are.”
“Don’t worry,” Tina threw in. “We like it!”
Carly’s phone buzzed. She put down her mug when she recognized the Lewises’ number. “Hello? Hi, Mary Jean! I heard about the concert today. I’m so excited. I’ll give Ted and Aaron a call this morning.”
“We’re all thrilled. And so, of course, is Holly. We’ll be bringing her to the concert. We’re looking forward to it. Ted’s going to confirm the precise date, and we’ll stay at his place for the weekend. We’ll get together for dinner with you guys, too. We’ll go to the center of your universe.”
Carly couldn’t help giggling. “Sounds good and see you then.”
Song topics. Animals, all kinds of them. Ranches. Western beauty, Western life, which she now felt she’d begun to understand. Mothers, one in particular. Fathers. Friends. Love...
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SHALLIE CHECKED HER car rental information online. She’d had the car for more than three weeks now. She hadn’t honestly expected to be here that long—although she’d been willing to consider the possibility. Better return this thing to the rental agency, today if possible.
She’d rented it at the airport in Billings, and driving there and back meant about six hours. She and Cord had talked about it; he had an important meeting at the sheriff’s office, but suggested Tina might be able to do it. Before she could ask Tina, she got a call from Russ.
“What are you doing this week?” he asked.
“One thing I need to do is return my rental to the airport. I’m not sure who’s—”
“Why didn’t you ask me? I can do it. I’ll drive my car to Billings with you, then take you back.”
“Thanks! That would be a huge help.”
“Hey, it’s not like my schedule’s overbooked—or booked at all,” he added wryly.
Shallie still found herself a little surprised when he expressed that kind of self-deprecating humor.
“When do you want to go?” he went on to ask.
“What about today?”
“Works for me. Why don’t we meet here, ’cause I’m closer to the highway? Nine thirty?”
“See you then!” She started to thank him a second time, but he’d already hung up.
Half an hour later, she pulled into the motel parking lot. Russ was already in his car, waiting. They set off a moment later. He was a slow, careful driver and she frequently lost sight of him in her rearview mirror.
Arriving at the airport, Shallie turned in her car, then waited at the entrance while he parked his, thinking they’d find a restaurant inside for a quick lunch. When he finally showed up, he asked if they could walk around the airport for a while first, confessing he’d never flown before, never been anywhere but Painted Pony Creek and its surrounding area. “We’ll have to change that,” Shallie said. If she did return to Seattle, she’d invite him to visit...
Russ commented on almost everything they passed, stopping to read the arrival and departure boards and to gawk at staff in their uniforms. Half an hour later, she finally succeeded in getting him to choose a place to eat, and they had lunch at a chain bar with windows looking out on the tarmac. He was so fascinated by the loading and unloading of planes that conversation was minimal—although Shallie did manage to arrange a day for the motel-cleaning project. Monday, they decided.
Driving home with him, she was afraid all their talk would be of airports and airplanes, but then he brought up Christine and Bethanne. “They’re the big questions for us, aren’t they?” he said. “We need to find out what happened to both of them.”
“We do. You and I have had enough losses in our lives.”
He nodded. “The way Della died, and then Norm so soon after—it still bothers me, too. But at least there was no mystery there.” That seemed to be enough personal conversation for him, and he flipped on the car’s radio.
* * *
ELI HAD SENT out word the night before that he planned to hold a meeting at his office at ten thirty. He’d invited the ranchers and farmers who’d been affected, in any way and to any degree, by his idiot nephew’s actions. He’d also included most of the people involved in the patrols, except Russ, who was driving to the airport with Shallie. Cord and Mitch, for instance, would have a valuable role to play; they knew the community and its landscape well,
they knew Eric—to the extent that anyone could—and their opinions were respected.
Once everyone was seated, with Deputy Amos Edwards at the opposite end of the table, Eli began the meeting. He recounted the information concerning Eric and how his guilt had come to light, then said his nephew was at Sara’s but would join them now, if anyone wanted the opportunity to talk to him personally.
“As you all know,” Eli said, “he’s my nephew. But that means nothing. This isn’t about family. I called you all together to see how you feel about Eric Worth, what he’s admitted to doing—which includes recruiting the rest of them. And since this is a community issue, I want to see how, from your point of view, it should be handled.” Eli paused. “Do you want to launch lawsuits against him and the others? Do you want to see charges filed? You could choose to pursue theft, damage to property, cruelty to animals... What do you see as the right thing to do?” He paused again. “Eric’s virtually under house arrest and prohibited from contacting any of his companions in crime.”
There were whispered conversations around the table. Mitch sat back, arms folded, and Eli guessed he’d go along with Cord’s preference.
Finally, Miles Carey spoke up. “Okay, here’s what I think. First, this is a messed-up boy, which isn’t entirely his own fault.”
Eli nodded grimly.
“Not blaming you or Sara,” Miles went on. “We all know his father did a lot of damage. But Eric’s almost an adult now, and it’s time for him to act like one.”
“I agree,” Cord said. “None of us wants to see his life destroyed and Sara’s life damaged. I’d insist on what would basically be a form of probation. With supervision. He needs to pay for what he’s done, and the best way is to have him do some work for all his victims. Make sure he learns what we do and gets to know animals. That he understands he affected the entire community because of his actions.”
“Hey, I forgot to tell you something,” another rancher named Clarence Todd said next. “I got my missing calf back! My son found him nosing around the barn door. What a relief! I can’t even tell you...”
“Good to hear,” Eli said. “Really good.”
Everyone echoed that sentiment, and Amos added, “I think that leaves only one animal unaccounted for at this time.” He glanced at his notes. “A pet donkey belonging to your neighbor, Joanne Berg, and her little girl.” Looking up, he said, “She’s told me how much Caroline misses Eeyore. I know we’ll all keep an eye out.”
“My son and I will do another search,” Clarence promised. “Joanne couldn’t make it to the meeting today, and she asked me to speak for her.”
After a brief silence, Cord turned directly to Eli. “How capable do you think the little bast—sorry—Eric is of recognizing the wrong he did? How capable of redeeming himself, staying on the straight and narrow?”
“I’m probably not the best person to say,” Eli replied. “But he’d need to be supervised. Check in regularly with our office. Amos, you up for that?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“He’d have to return to school. He dropped out during his final year of high school. Sara and I both talked to him, and we had him see the school counselor but Eric just wasn’t...receptive. He said he needed a ‘break,’ but oh, yeah, he’s going back to school this fall.”
“I’d add a psychiatric assessment to that, and therapy if necessary,” Cord said.
“I already told him as much,” Eli responded. The discussion continued along those lines, and then a vote was taken. Everyone present was willing to accept the terms that had been outlined—with the proviso that this would be Eric’s one and only chance.
Eli was grateful, saying he and Amos would make their agreement known to his nephew. He was determined to help Eric, to hound him, whatever it took. The boy’s companions in crime would receive the same treatment and they’d all be obliged to avoid contact with each other.
In other words, his nephew was getting a second chance. Oh, boy, that kid owed him! And speaking of what was owed...
He pulled Eric’s letter of apology to Carly from his pocket and handed it to Cord.
* * *
THE CLEANING SESSION at the motel on Monday morning went as planned, and Carly actually enjoyed it. She and Tina worked on a room together. They’d chosen Room 5, which seemed to be in better shape than most of the others. They vacuumed the ancient rug, dusted, polished the bedside table and rickety desk, and made the bed. Fortunately, there were clean, if very old, sheets and covers hidden away in a closet. Carly went out to pick some wildflowers; she arranged them in a vase she found in Russ’s tiny kitchen and placed it on the desk.
Russ and Shallie selected another room across the hall.
All four of them inspected both rooms and declared themselves satisfied. Then they pitched in on the already improved office. Mitch was going to come over later to repair the old sign with its burned out lights.
Shallie suggested Russ consider getting a part-time cleaner soon, and he said he’d think about it.
Then he went out in his “crapmobile,” as he called it, to pick up pizza for their lunch. Afterward, Tina drove Carly and Shallie home.
That afternoon, Carly decided to draft a song or two—or at least try. She sat, as usual, under her favorite tree, cradling her laptop.
Her first song had to be about her mother, about the two of them and how their lives together had been. Okay, first stanza.
Life can be hard.
Life can be cruel.
She needed something to rhyme with “hard”—card? That made no sense. Lard? Come on! She’d change the first line:
Life can be full of pain.
Life can be cruel.
People treat you with disdain
And call you a fool.
Not bad, she thought.
Next stanza. She’d work out the tune when she was finished, with the assistance of Aaron and the others.
Life was cruel to my mother.
It was cruel to me.
People are cruel to each other
And won’t just let you be.
Pretty good! And true...as she’d often seen and experienced.
Mom, Mommy, I miss you so much!
I miss your love, your voice
And I miss your touch.
I wish I had some reason to rejoice.
But... I do. I know it.
Life has brought me comforts...
She stalled. Memories and thoughts of Reba overwhelmed her with grief, the grief she’d tried so hard and for so long to push aside. To ignore. To move past. But it couldn’t be done. The grief was for both of them, for Reba and for herself. Despite everything that was happy and promising in her life now, despite everything that felt uplifting, depression was dragging her down.
She supposed that, ironically, part of what made her feel so bad was the contrast between her present and her past. Between her new sense of purpose and her ongoing grief. Between the love she’d begun to feel for the new people in her life—and the pain and loss that had come before.
She had to admit that another benefit of her YouTube channel was the way she’d been compelled to think about her mom—as well as the dads. They’d all known Reba, all loved her. And being here, in Painted Pony Creek, seeing them regularly, felt like a chance to learn more about her mother, through them and through Shallie...
She wondered if Shallie was back, if they could talk. She hit Save and packed up her laptop, then walked to the ranch house.
Cord was sitting on the porch with his canine companions, taking a break—checking his cell and having a midafternoon beer. “Hi!” he called out. “How’d it go?”
“Good. Um, is Shallie still at home?”
“As far as I know.”
And then Carly made an abrupt decision. “Do you have a minute?”
“For you? Always. Wh
at’s up?”
“Just...want to talk to you. But first I want to say that whether you turn out to be my dad or not, I’m really, really grateful for everything you’ve done to help me. You’ve all become so important to me. You and Shallie, Tina and Mitch... Eli and J.P.”
“You’re important to all of us. And not just because of Reba, but because of who and what you are, how you’ve dealt with the incredibly hard circumstances life’s handed you.”
“Thanks.” She took a shaky breath. “I’ve been thinking about my mom a lot lately. I try not to. But I can’t help it. I’m depressed and I can’t talk my way out of it right now.”
Cord sat forward. “What can I do?”
She wanted to respond, but couldn’t, not yet, as tears crowded her eyes. Again. “I... I loved my mom,” she finally managed. “Still love her. And sometimes the grief just hits me.”
“I understand,” Cord said quietly.
“We all have hard times,” Carly told him, “I realize that. We all have losses and go through grief. I’m not comparing. But...”
“Your situation is especially difficult. First because you’re so young, and Reba died so young, at a very vulnerable age for you. And not knowing who your father is—that doesn’t make it any easier. But like I said the other night, whichever one of us is your dad will step up. And then you’ll have two uncles, as well.”
That was a thought she’d had a number of times now and hearing him say it made her smile.
“You know, my mom... Reba didn’t tell me a lot about any of you guys. Or about Shallie. I don’t really understand why. All she told me is that you or Eli or J.P. is my dad.” Carly had to hesitate for a minute. “She was already in the hospital then. And...and never came out. Stage 4 when it was diagnosed. I spent all my time there.” She couldn’t disguise her bitterness when she added, “Duncan, her husband, hardly even bothered to show up.”
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