His Ranch or Hers

by Roz Denny Fox

  Stepping farther inside the hall, she saw it had been transformed by rows of booths all decorated for the fall bazaar. Classes at the local elementary school had decorated with brown-and-orange crepe paper. Stapled around booth openings were turkeys, pilgrims, cornucopias and hundreds of faux oak leaves cut from construction paper.

  In past years Myra hadn’t given much thought to booth decorations. Looking around today, it hit her hard knowing this was her last year to exhibit. She would never have children of her own here, running around on sale day showing off their own and classmates’ decorations. Discovering how deeply she longed to have a child struck out of nowhere. She’d attended friends’ weddings—had even been a bridesmaid. Never had she felt anxious that love, marriage, babies and life on the ranch would drift out of her reach.

  “Myra, are you all right? Why are you just standing there?” Lila Jenkins stepped out from a booth.

  Giving herself a mental shake, Myra waved. “I guess I was taking it all in. The kids who decorated outdid themselves this year. Did Rory’s class do your booth?”

  “Mine and some others.” Lila crossed the room. “You requested shelves, so the committee assigned you a corner booth. Have you brought dollhouses today?”

  Myra nodded. “Five. Wait until you see the addition Zeke suggested. Battery-operated lighting. There wasn’t time to refit all of them. But they’ll sell for more, so it’s good to try a few, I guess.”

  “The committee ran ads in more newspapers this year. My quilts and your dollhouses were featured because we always sell out.”

  “Maybe they should have said in the ads this will be my last year.” Myra teared up.

  Lila hugged her friend. “Don’t say that. The Artsy Ladies are praying for a miracle. Come on, let’s bring in your houses and I’ll help you arrange them. Then if you have time for coffee we can stop by the café. This morning Mom said she hadn’t seen you in ages.”

  Myra swallowed back the pain that accompanied her declaration about this being her last year. “Did the café close during the power outage?”

  “We were open thanks to Mom installing a new generator. There weren’t a lot of customers, though. Since school was closed, Rory bussed tables. That freed me up to finish handwork on my last couple of kid quilts. Rory wants the one I made with baseballs all over it. Did I tell you he’s gone crazy over baseball? Matt and Lori Barnes’s son Kemper plays for Little League. Rory so wants to join. But the fees are expensive. And games are in Wolf Point. Getting him to and from would be hard since I’m doing my best to hang on to the bed-and-breakfast and work part-time for Mom.”

  The women chatted as they went out to Myra’s pickup. “I don’t know much about Little League. Do they practice a lot?”

  “Daily,” Lila said, taking the dollhouse Myra handed her. “They practice at our park, but the field isn’t right for league games.” The women carried houses in, and after settling them, Lila added, “The games also coincide with fishing season.”

  “Oh no. Fishermen are your best customers.” Myra led the way out to get more houses. “Rory’s young. Maybe the B and B will pick up to the point you can hire help. Then next year he can join a team.”

  “He’s ten the day before Christmas. Matt Barnes said players really need to get involved in the sport by then, or they lose valuable instruction.”

  Myra commiserated as they set the last house. Then she said, “Hey, before we go, let me show you the lights.” She flicked on one battery pack. Light shone through the windows.

  “That is so cool. You must be getting along better with Zeke if he took that kind of interest in your dollhouses.”

  “He’s okay. But I’m sorry he is who he is.” Myra shut off the lights. “Let’s go. I don’t want to talk about Zeke.”

  Lila nodded. “You head over. I picked up the grange key from Harv Bell, so I need to run it by his office. Tell Mom I’m on my way.”

  They parted and Myra drove down Main Street and parked beyond the café. She hurried back and went in. “Hi, Doreen,” she called when Lila’s mother emerged from the kitchen. She relayed Lila’s message. “Doesn’t look like you’re so busy that she and I can’t have coffee.”

  “And a cupcake. I’m trying out new recipes. Rory’s class is going to sell them at the bazaar. Today I have a batch of lemon and a batch of applesauce.”

  “Applesauce sounds perfect,” Myra said, taking the full mug Doreen Mercer passed her. “I’ll take that back booth by the window,” she announced as Lila breezed in.

  Lila brought her mug and two cupcakes over. She stood by while Myra shed her jacket. “Golly, will you look at that,” Lila exclaimed, bending nearer the window. “Isn’t that your guy, Zeke, walking across the street with Jewell?”

  “Can’t be,” Myra exclaimed, whirling to peer in the direction Lila pointed. “For one thing, he’s not my guy. But Zeke went riding.” She pressed her nose to the window and was shocked to see that Lila was right. Zeke and Jewell walked side by side, talking, gesturing and, by the look of them, both having a great time.

  Emptiness clawed at Myra’s stomach, but she did her best to act normally when she again faced Lila. Still, she barely managed a careless shrug. “He must have gotten back early.” She deliberately took a bite of her cupcake and drank her coffee without retaining much of what Lila said. Her mind kept seeing Zeke and Jewell looking so happy together. Although why was that surprising? Jewell was gorgeous, smart and athletic. At the potluck Zeke had remarked on her red hair. So, had he kissed her, too? Myra recalled his kisses. And she could still feel the warmth of his proprietary hand on her back as she introduced him around at the potluck.

  “Myra, Mom has asked you three times if you liked the applesauce cupcake.”

  Jerking her head up, Myra realized she’d been lost in memories. “Sorry, it was really good. I guess I have a lot on my mind. Stuff I need to do between now and calving season so I’ll be ready to leave. Last week I put out feelers on teaching jobs.”

  Lila reached across the table and clutched Myra’s hand. “No! Why can’t you continue working for Zeke like you’re doing now?”

  “I can’t.” Myra’s throat was too tight to say more. But she probably wouldn’t have admitted how jumbled her feelings were. Seeing Zeke with Jewell made her realize how much she’d come to care for him. Maybe more than she cared to own the ranch, and that was scary.

  “I hate to eat and run, but with Zeke in town I need to get back and feed the stock. According to the almanac, this is only a short hiatus between storms.”

  Lila and Doreen said they’d see her again at the bazaar.

  As she drove to the ranch, Myra couldn’t shake how much Zeke and Jewell looked like a couple.

  Two hours later, she had fed the stock and was parking the tractor when Zeke drove in. He stepped from his pickup and called, “Why didn’t you wait for me to help? I went by the grange hall and saw the booths. It’s quite a production. Your dollhouses look nice.”

  Myra shrugged and crawled off the tractor to close up the barn.

  Zeke fell in step on the way to the house. “When do you want to eat? I bought paint for my bathroom. If there’s time I may give it one coat before supper.”

  “I’ve got chili in the Crock-Pot. There’s French bread to toast. You can eat anytime you wish. I have things to do and plan to eat in my room.”

  “O...kay.” Zeke slowed then turned back.

  Presumably to get his paint.

  Myra ran into him again when she returned her empty chili bowl to the kitchen. He sat eating at the table. “We should drive separately to the bazaar,” she announced.

  “Didn’t you say parking was a problem?” Zeke frowned at her.

  “It can be. But the Artsy Ladies always clean up. And I may want to join them afterward.”

  “Is something wrong, Myra? You seem out of sorts.”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Did you get your photographs?”

  Zeke scooted his chair aside to give her room to pick u
p Orion. “I did,” he said, but didn’t elaborate.

  And Myra noticed he didn’t offer to show her the pictures.

  “I brought in the mail,” he said. “You have two envelopes from schools. Did you send out résumés?”

  “Where is it?” Myra demanded.

  “On the credenza by the door.”

  Myra rushed out of the kitchen. She snatched up the mail and went directly to her bedroom. She had thought any response would come via email. Her heart beat faster as she set Orion in his night cage and sat on her bed to open the first letter. Maybe one or both schools had midyear openings. If so, her tenure at the ranch could end ASAP, and Zeke would hire Eddie and Aaron to help with calving.

  The first note came from her former principal’s secretary, pointing out that her certification had expired. If she took courses over the summer and reapplied, they’d consider her. The second letter was similar, suggesting she take the courses online. How could she have forgotten to renew her certification?

  This was so far from what she’d expected she sat with her body numb and her mind racing. At last she folded the letters and put them in a dresser drawer. The thought of returning to school was repugnant. Should she even consider going back to teaching? Shouldn’t a teacher—a good one—be excited to learn? Now her situation seemed dire. She couldn’t stay at the ranch Zeke owned. And if he and Jewell got cozy, Myra couldn’t fathom them being okay with having her sharing this house with Zeke much longer.

  She slept fitfully that night. And the snowstorm that blew in overnight didn’t help her disposition. They were back to hand feeding cows each morning and evening. That meant working too closely with Zeke.

  It was still snowing on Saturday. Myra and her friends worried the weather would keep people away from the bazaar.

  But it didn’t.

  “Perhaps because winter seems never-ending,” Tawana said. “People just needed to get out and shop for Christmas.”

  “I need gifts for my dad, my brother and Zeke. It’s probably cheesy to buy the same for all three, but I think they’d all like those belts you made with eagle beadwork in patches along the leather.” Myra handed over her credit card.

  “Zeke was here earlier. He bought a beaded vest for his brother.”

  “Really?” Myra tucked her card away. “When I first mentioned your beaded leather vests to him, he sounded totally uninterested.”

  “He was in buying mode. I saw him at Jewell’s stall for quite a while. Maybe buying some of her knit scarves for his sisters?”

  Myra felt herself scowl. “He only has a twin brother. And his mom lives where it’s sunny all the time.” She didn’t mention that Zeke may have tarried with Jewell for a totally different reason. But the stark reminder stole away the joy Myra usually had for the bazaar. It didn’t even help to have so many moms rave over her lighted dollhouses. She gave Zeke credit, but all the same it hurt to sell her final house, knowing it would be the last one she’d ever sell here in Snowy Owl Crossing.

  After the crowd thinned out, Jewell was noticeably absent from their cleanup crew. And Zeke wasn’t helping the men break down the booths. Rather than looking for him, she reluctantly stayed to help count their earnings.

  “We made enough to more than fund Tawana and Jewell’s trip to DC,” Shelley announced once they’d all met up at the café. “Next year’s profits will be gravy.”

  Everyone high-fived. Everyone but Myra. Lila slipped an arm around her shoulders. “No matter where you are, can’t you still come back for the bazaar?”

  “Definitely,” Tawana vouched. “But we hope it works out for you to stay. Even if the worst happens, we’ll keep in touch. You’ll want to know what’s happening with the owls, Myra. This morning Jewell said our snowy population is up a bit. She plans to band more chicks next week. If we can get an appointment with the federal committee, and they authorize a preserve, you’ll have to come to the dedication.”

  “I can’t help feeling out of sorts,” Myra said. “I’m not good company. I think I’ll go on home and start wrapping Christmas gifts. Maybe that will cheer me up. Anyway, my bad mood shouldn’t drag you guys down.” Before the other ladies could say more, Myra put on her jacket and hat, and left the café.

  Again she beat Zeke to the ranch. The gloomy way she felt, she considered retreating to her bedroom to brood. But they needed to eat. And as long as she remained, chores needed doing.

  She assembled a casserole she could pop in the oven to bake while they made the evening round of feeding. They, provided Zeke came home. He didn’t have to. He was a big boy. Nothing was stopping him from spending the night with Jewell. If they fell in love she ought to be happy for her friend. Then why was it so hard?

  Myra heard the front door open, and for a split second her heart lifted. She recognized Zeke’s footfalls. He didn’t call out to her, but went straight to his room.

  She put the casserole in the oven, but rather than be caught hanging out in the kitchen, she grabbed her outdoor gear and hurried to the barn to load hay bales. Hard work eased her frustration. By the time Zeke came to find her she was almost her normal self.

  “Something smelled good in the kitchen,” he said, entering the barn as he pulled on his gloves.

  “A casserole my gram used to make. I hope it tastes like hers.”

  “Hey, I saw a lot of people carrying out your dollhouses.”

  “Your lights were the big hit.”

  “Next year maybe I can make some basic wood furniture to go with.”

  Myra plopped a bale close enough to Zeke to cause him to jump back. “I don’t know who will construct the houses since I won’t be here.”

  He fell silent and bent to the task of arranging bales.

  They got through their rounds with minimal talk. Only after they were back inside eating supper did Zeke again broach the subject of Christmas. “You haven’t mentioned putting up Christmas lights or a tree.”

  Myra set down a forkful of casserole. “We used to. Everything is stored in the barn. Last year after Gramps died, I had too much to do to decorate.”

  “Point me to it. I’ll decorate,” he said. “I did my shopping at the bazaar, so I only need to wrap and mail packages to my family.”

  “Same for me,” Myra admitted. “So you found something suitable for your folks and your brother?”

  “I did.”

  Myra waited for him to say what he found, but he dug into his meal, and when he finished, rinsed his dishes and retired to his room.

  * * *

  THE NEXT DAY he followed through on his promise to decorate. Myra could have helped, but she fought too many conflicting emotions. After the bazaar, time always seemed to speed up. Everyone was ready to say goodbye to Old Man Winter, when spring rains would wash away the snow and bring new grass and baby calves. But for her, looking ahead spelled the end of her life on the ranch. And she honestly had no idea what she was going to do.

  Zeke’s decorations inside and out left the house looking cheerier.

  In the days that led up to Christmas, all of Myra’s family phoned trying to talk her into joining them for the holidays. Her mother said, “Honey, we miss you. Come home. I spruced up your room with new bedding in the lavender shades you love.”

  “I appreciate that, but we’ve been slammed with snowstorm after snowstorm. The day I mailed your packages was the last day the road to town was open. The room will keep until March. We should be finished calving by then.”

  “Sweetheart, Eric told us your teaching credentials lapsed. We’re sorry that happened while you were helping Gramps out. Can I help?”

  “No, but thanks, Mom. Listen, I’ll phone you on Christmas.” Myra hung up because tears gummed up her throat.

  Zeke, who’d been painting moldings, had listened unabashedly to Myra’s end of the conversation. Noticing how she clutched the phone and wiped her eyes, he set down his brush and paint can. Crossing the room, he pulled her out of the chair and into his arms. “What’s wrong? If you�
��re homesick, I’ll get along. I talked to Eddie about helping with calving like you suggested. He said he’s available any time I need him.” Zeke rubbed his chin over Myra’s hair. “I hate seeing you so distraught.”

  “Don’t hold me, Zeke, or I’ll totally fall apart.” She wedged a space between them.

  Zeke might not have let go, if his phone hadn’t rung. He wanted to get to the bottom of her woebegone attitude. He’d noticed a change before the bazaar that seemed worse after.

  Dashing a kiss over her forehead, he flashed an apologetic look as he dug out his cell phone. “Seth! Hey, bro. Ah, you got my package? Yeah, yours came. It’s lucky. Would you believe we have five feet of snow?”

  “Wow, it’s eighty-five here.”

  “Sure, rub it in. Eighty-five sounds like an impossible dream.” Zeke turned to include Myra in his smile and saw her closing the door to her bedroom.

  “Will your snow be gone by April?” Seth asked. “I’ll wind down my opal hunt by then. If I book a flight now I can manage a couple of weeks to see your ranch before heading to a little spot in India showing promising rubies.”

  “Great, that’ll be great. Myra cleared her crafts out of the third bedroom, and it’s next on my agenda to paint. Your timing is typical. You’ll have missed helping me update the house.”

  “Will your housemate still be there in April? I thought you said she’d be leaving in the spring.”

  “Well, ah...here’s the thing,” Zeke said, lowering his voice and moving away from Myra’s bedroom door. “Don’t come unglued, but if I had my way, Seth, she’d stay.”

  “What? You devil, you. Are you implying the M word?”

  “M as in maybe. I’m not doing a good job of making my feelings known. I can’t read how she feels about me. Since we share a house, work and all meals, I’m reluctant to romance her too much. It could easily get out of hand. Then if she didn’t want to commit I’d feel like a heel and it could drive her away. I mean, look at all I owe her family.”