by Kim Smart
Falling for Home
Kim Smart
This is entirely a work of fiction. All people, places, and events contained herein have been completely fabricated by the author. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Kim Smart
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Life doesn’t happen to us, it happens with us and I am grateful to have my family to do life with. Thanks for all your support and enthusiasm, listening to my stories and loving my characters.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Kim Smart
Chapter 1
“Geez Jesse, honey, did you roll in the cow pile before you shoveled it?” Yvette Davies smiled at her handsome son standing in the doorway. Straw dust swarmed like gnats in the late afternoon sunrays. She playfully wrinkled her nose at the all-to-familiar scent of cattle waste. The faint voice of her late father-in-law whispered his favorite phrase in her head, “Ah, the sweet smell of money.”
Dried Badlands clay caked his jeans and boots as he stepped into her prized mudroom; the room she fought for when the architect drew up their dream home plans after a few exceptional years. Living and raising a family in the hundred-year-old Davies family farmhouse carried a certain stereotypical, oppressed, ultra-conservative image of ranch-life tradition. Ample opportunities to develop home-maintenance skills lived in that house. For Yvette and Dan Davies, living, riding, working the land and cattle, and raising their family on Buffalo Ridge was all they needed. They worked hard over the years. They rewarded themselves with the new house.
Jesse reached down to pull off his crusty work boots and looked up at Yvette; a smile crossed his speckled face, a mixture of mud and freckles. “Of course I did Ma. You guys always told me I was the best manure-wrangler you ever saw, and I didn’t want to disappoint.”
Yvette and Dan welcomed four beautiful babies into their Buffalo Ridge clan. As the youngest of four, Jesse inherited some unique challenges. All the children were excellent students and athletically inclined. Jesse’s siblings were accomplished. He struggled to be exceptional at something.
Wrangling manure was his trademark. He became the butt of a family joke as a young boy trying to keep up with his older siblings. Yvette realized that today, that joke would fit squarely within the bullying category. “Family. We could certainly be thoughtless,” she chastised herself. But the Davies family mantra was one of overcoming all the elements. They never let bad weather or manure get them down.
The joke started when Jesse was seven. Five years younger than his next oldest sibling, Stella, Jesse worked hard to be as good as the older kids. Practicing baseball in the yard was one of the family’s favorite spring activities. It was important in the Davies family to be a standout in sports. Stella, at twelve, was a scrappy basketball player on the grade school team and a barrel-racing prodigy. At fourteen, Chance was riding broncos and roping, wrestled with the varsity team, and could have been in the stand-up comedy hall of fame. He would rather tell jokes than pay attention in the classroom any day. Already the girls were ringing the house phone, hoping to hear Chance answer before quickly hanging up, hoping to be unidentifiable. The oldest son, Steve, left soon after for college. A scholarship to rope on the rodeo team was his; he would be on the roping team. He had already set several state records in track and football and enjoyed a good showing in rodeo roping. As an excellent student, he set the bar high for the rest of the Davies kids. Townspeople and family alike constantly compared Jesse to his exceptional siblings. Ranking of the children by teachers in the small-town school was one of the biggest challenges to overcome, second only to the constant pressure of his siblings.
On that fateful day, Chance hit a foul ball toward the feedlot. Steve yelled to Jesse to catch it so they could win the game. Jesse didn’t like baseball, didn’t watch it on TV, and didn’t know, or care about, the actual rules of the game. Jesse simply wanted to be a worthy teammate for his big brother Steve. He did what he was told. He took off after that ball, using all his speed and agility to get under it. The weathered boards of the corral fence appeared before he could swerve to avoid them. He leaped up to catch the ball and toppled into a pile of manure. When he emerged, he wore a grin and held the ball in his stinky greased glove. Dung clung to him as he stood. The entire family laughed at him. “Look Ma!” Chance yelled. “You’re raising a manure-wrangler now.” They crowned Jesse the manure wrangler, a name that passed for all but Jesse. The sting was still there for him.
Chance put Jesse down at every opportunity. He was the class clown and his joke was not a compliment; he never intended it to be. Jesse had to stay outside until he washed with the garden hose and stripped off his filthy clothes. He stunk like something that belonged in the barn. He didn’t know, until that day, that a foul ball was a dead ball. Someone should have told him the rules. He hated his siblings for not telling him.
Reading was his passion, as was his horse, Motor. Motor had one gear: slow and reliable. That was Jesse’s preference. Motor was predictable and safe. Jesse held his emotions close and colored inside the lines.
“Ah Jess, you never disappoint.” Yvette looked directly at her son. These were more than merely reassuring words of a mother. She was proud of the man her son was becoming. “Get out of those nasty clothes and shower. Kerry will stand you up, as rightly she should, if you don’t show up on time and with a shine.”
Yvette handed him a towel and waived her hand in the air as if to shoo him into action. She wanted him to take his work clothes off and toss them in the wash.
Yvette, more than anyone in the family, saw Jesse for the wonderfully unique man he was becoming. She paused as she walked back to the kitchen. Her eyes fell on the yard outside the window. Her mind wandered back to those days when the family played in the yard. In the winter they plowed snow into tall mounds for sledding. In spring and summer they played baseball or touch football. From this vantage point, she saw Jesse trying to fit in yet standing out like salt against pepper. Her hands rested on her chest, soothing her mother’s regret. She could have protected his tender emotions better. She gently shook her head to send the image back to the past. We all need to move forward doing the best we can do, she told herself.
The sweet smell of onions sautéing beckoned her back to the kitchen where she was preparing dinner. She looked toward the driveway of the shop, hoping to see Dan’s truck. After all these years, she still worried about him. She stirred the vegetables in the pan, sprinkled in cumin and garlic powder. She kept her hands busy paring an apple and slicing a banana for the salad.
Jesse tugged off his boots and drew his long legs out of his jeans. At twenty, he still had the body of a teenage
r with long, lean limbs and little muscle definition. He was strong enough but lacked the typical muscular dark Davies physique, chick magnets with ease in conversation and a glowing love for life. Jesse was more pale, less beefy, more introverted and skeptical about life. He hid in books and under headphones.
Jesse was the smartest of the kids; at least that’s what his mother and his test scores said. “College material,” the guidance counselor told him. But he was not interested. His mind was always working. He couldn’t make it stop. So he found it necessary to ground himself in physical labor. Yes, he got the best grades and was at the top of the Davies heap in high school, with Stella coming in a close second. He missed Stella. She was his closest friend, besides Kerry.
Stella went off to Arizona to find herself, and cattle. Toiling in physical labor grounded Stella in the same way it did for Jesse. School was stifling. They longed for the solitude of wide-open space, dirt on their hands and fresh air in their lungs. Jesse hadn’t seen her since her class reunion two summers before. Too much time had passed. She was Stella, the cowboy, like some super hero persona. Sleeping under the stars, unplugged from social media most of the time, defined her. He sent her messages. She responded when she could. Maybe Jesse could visit her when he got a break, whenever that was. Like most things in his life, Jesse overanalyzed and frequently ascribed a fatal ending to the conundrum before him.
Jesse’s tough cowboy edge softened with Kerry around. He was relaxed, yet alert to her kind heart and curious mind. She was a sophomore and he a senior when they started dating. It started with an invitation to a dance. His friends all had dates and someone suggested he ask Kerry. They became an exclusive dating couple that night. Even after he graduated they continued to date. He had now been to six proms. Awkward. Heading to college with her dreams in tow was Kerry’s idea of bliss. He loved her company and would miss her. He wasn’t interested in finding someone else.
Exploring the Badlands was one of their favorite things to do. The sprawling wild land rested at the foot of Buffalo Ridge Ranch. They rode in those parts year-round, when time allowed. During those rides they witnessed the unrestrained wildlife. One day they witnessed a Bison calving. More than once on a spring ride mating rattlesnakes interrupted their ride. Several prairie dog towns peppered the basin floor. Visiting those places and watching the prairie dogs poke their pointed little noses in the air was entertaining.
He didn’t understand why, but Kerry was his ever-faithful girlfriend who promised to stick by his side come hell or high water. Here on Buffalo Ridge Ranch, either was possible. In fact, hell came summer after summer in the form of high winds, brush fires and day after day of one- hundred-degree plus heat and humidity. High water arrived every spring when the snow melted onto the hard-packed skin of the Badlands where it became clay, stickier than quicksand, and creeks flooded, knocking out bridges, fencing, and roads.
Jesse often wondered why anyone would homestead, and then stay, in this miserable country. Then he witnessed the bold lightening reach down from a grey stormy sky toward the Badlands, illuminating the dramatic shapes nature built there over the centuries. And on a crisp winter night when the full moon lit the snow-covered valley toward town where streetlights danced in the ice fog, he stared with disbelief that such a beautiful place could exist. Some days, most days in fact, there was no place that he would rather be.
These days he questioned that. Going to college may be what he needed. The problem, as he saw it, was that he had no interest in studying business or agriculture. Everything he needed to know about running a ranch he learned from his parents. He didn’t see himself going anywhere except maybe down the road to his own place. Someday, maybe.
Smelling fresh like Irish Spring soap, Jesse got dressed and cleaned out his truck. He grabbed an old t-shirt and brushed out the dust. Jesse tossed the empty soda and water bottles in the trash and got behind the wheel. He looked behind him to ensure his going-away gift lay there. He hoped he wouldn’t chicken out and not give it to her. This was her night. Letting Kerry enjoy her last night in town was his priority. Giving her this gift was selfish on his part. He wanted her to take a piece of him with her. It was there, wrapped in bright pink paper with a silver bow. It reminded him of her at the prom. She was so beautiful. A real prize.
Summer’s end brought the town’s annual harvest celebration. Tonight was the last night to hang with friends before Kerry left for school. Kissing and close dancing were in the forecast.
He loved having her close. It calmed him. Made him feel special. He would miss these times with her. Sometimes he worried they, or at least he, had taken for granted the closeness of their community and their home. It was comforting to know she planned to come home at Christmas. Until then, her focus was on school. It was hard, but they agreed to only talk on Sundays. Dreading the time apart, Jesse told Kerry he would miss her but wanted her to succeed. She deserved that. He wasn’t going anywhere. He feared she would leave him in the dust after meeting college guys.
Starting at an early age, Kerry’s dream was to become a veterinarian. Her mother said she would scour the fields for sick and injured creatures and bring them to the house. Bandaging a stray cat’s bloody paw or feeding a sickly pullet with an eyedropper was not uncommon for Kerry. Practicing in Buffalo Ridge was part of her dream. It had been a decade since the last veterinarian gave up residence here in this small town. Small towns are hard to survive if you have big ideas. These good old boys like it their way with money in the bank, boots on the ground and generations of homogeneity sharing know-how. Yeah, Buffalo Ridge isn’t very diverse. It could be an uphill battle for Kerry but Jesse would do anything to see her succeed. Already he was thinking of places that would be suitable for a clinic. Jesse hoped to have one lined up when she was ready to establish her practice.
Chapter 2
Kerry raced into the house, throwing off her waitress uniform as she bee-lined for her room. No time for a shower. It wouldn’t be the first time she went out wearing the lingering scent of chicken-fried steak and splattered Thousand Island dressing. Nothing a little body spray wouldn’t hide. She would not miss this summer job. Like so many tables this year, that last table was so demanding, lingering over their meal like it was a hundred-dollar a plate at a five-star restaurant with a tip reserved for a carhop. She, like most of the small town’s residents, appreciated the tourists for the revenue they brought in the summer but boy, could they be difficult and so ungrateful.
“Kerry, can I do anything to help you get ready?” Susan had already helped her cull the essentials from her bedroom to take to college, pack her bags, her car, and wrote a list of essentials to pick up when she arrived in Brookstone. The University was Susan’s alma mater, and she was excited that her daughter was going as far away for school as she could, while still keeping in-state scholarships and tuition rates. Unlike herself, though, Susan hoped that Kerry would stay and complete her education and move away from this God-forsaken country with its harsh winds and even harsher townspeople. Susan married a fourth-generation Braun and would have done anything not to return to this small town where people are small-minded. But, she fell in love and it was love and having a family that brought her back and kept her here. She did her best to fit in and make it work.
“Thanks, Mom. I’ve got it. Jesse will be here in…” A knock at the door interjected.
“Come on in Jess.” Susan liked Jesse well enough. He was smart and polite and always good to her daughter. But he was here. In this small town with these small-minded people. She did not want to alienate her daughter, so she was nice to Jesse. Susan just wished he wasn’t so committed to this town and his family’s ranch. She was grateful that Kerry took her advice not to come home the first few months of school and not to hang on that dang phone night and day with him like she had done.
“Wow, you look so pretty, Kerry. You ready to go kick up some dust?” Jesse smiled at her as she strode into the front room, sporting tight jeans with sparkling patches
on her tiny butt, a tooled leather belt circling her tinier waist and a glittery blue tank top shouting, “Taking on the world, one cowboy at a time.”
Kerry and her girlfriends picked up these matching tank tops on a mid-summer girls’ trip to the Cheyenne rodeo. The six girls were long-time schoolmates and friends. They played basketball, ran track and were in 4-H together. Kerry, Charlotte, and Kate were all in rodeo. Kerry and Whitney worked at The Buffalo Diner together the past three summers and Cathy was the nice girl who was friends with everyone. She was getting married at Christmas and the girls would all be her bridesmaids. Kerry was happy to have this to look forward to. Staying connected with these girls she loved was important to Kerry.
The tank top with the sparkling message drew a lot of attention from the guys in Cheyenne - especially Brandon, a fun-loving cowboy from Wyoming who was blowing up her phone with messages. She took her phone out of her back pocket. “Mom, will you put this on the charger for me? I want it ready to go for tomorrow.”
She didn’t need Jesse to know about Brandon. Nothing had happened, well, not much anyway.
“Thanks, babe. Do you mind if we run by The Buffalo on our way to the dance? JoAnn promised to have my last paycheck ready for me since I’m leaving tomorrow.” Kerry needed every last dime to pay for schoolbooks and tuition. Her daddy worked hard farming and ranching but he wasn’t well-to-do like the Davies, who had a rodeo stock business on the side. He paid the bills but Momma didn’t get silk panties. That was his long-standing joke. If he ever had a successful crop that is the day Momma would get silk panties. Poor Mom. Kerry knew she longed for more but kept the peace because she loved her family.
