Snow Melts in Spring

by Vogts, Deborah

  “Then make them see.”

  Gil laughed at Mattie’s hopefulness and recognized a bit of himself in her. “I’m not convinced it would be best for Dad to stay here. Considering his poor health, maybe he should sell and move to town.”

  “You mean, best for you. Easier to walk away knowing you don’t have any responsibility to the Lightning M. Sounds cowardly, if you ask me.” She led Tulip a few yards and stopped, the tilt of her chin unyielding. “You’re the only family your dad has left. Why can’t you get along?”

  Gil’s spine bristled at being called a coward. He’d just tangled with a bull and had done a fine job of it too. He was no coward. “Our troubles began a long time ago.”

  “But you’re here now, so you must care or you’d still be in California.”

  Gil didn’t like the challenge in her eyes. Some people didn’t know when to leave well enough alone.

  TWENTY-ONE

  THE MCCRAY MEN’S PERSONAL LIVES WERE NONE OF MATTIE’S business, and she knew it. But how could she stand around and watch Gil and his dad destroy each other with their hardheaded behavior? What kind of friend would she be if she didn’t at least try to help them make amends? “Did you and your dad always fight like this?”

  Gil hopped off his horse and pulled the fence pliers from the saddlebag. “When I was a boy, Dad and I understood each other. We accepted our differences. I guess when Frank and Mama died, the peacemakers in the family died as well.” He bent down to retrieve the broken wires.

  “Is that why you didn’t come home when your dad was in the hospital?”

  Gil’s back straightened, and she could tell by his expression that she’d hit a nerve.

  “Nobody told me about his heart attack. And even if I’d known, we were at the end of the season, so it would have been impossible to get away. He wouldn’t have welcomed a visit from me. That’s why he didn’t call.”

  “Maybe he didn’t want to worry you.” Even as she said this, Mattie wondered if Gil’s words might be true. Would John have been pleased with his son’s return? She wanted to think so, but had witnessed a few of his unkind remarks. “He’s been happy to have you back at the ranch.”

  “I wouldn’t call it a welcome party. If you’ll recall, he didn’t open his arms or offer to roast the fattened calf.” Gil attached one end of the fence clip to the broken wire and pulled tight to bring the two loose ends together.

  Mattie watched as his neck muscles tensed and flexed. Though physically strong, part of him was as insecure as a little boy. “So, you and your dad have issues. Work them out and start over. He’s not getting any younger, and whether he lets on or not, he needs his family. You’re all that’s left.”

  She climbed up on Tulip, needing to return to Dusty and her work at the clinic. Staring down at the man, she noted how the brown tufts of hair curled above his coat collar, and how his long nose crooked in the middle, probably broken in a football game.

  Or during a fight with his older brother?

  She admitted to herself that she wanted to know more about Gilbert McCray. “Thanks for coming to my rescue with the bull. You probably saved my life.”

  “All in a day’s work.” Gil tipped his hat to her but didn’t smile.

  BACK AT THE BARN, MATTIE LED DUSTY INTO THE YARD TO GET SOME sun. Her little beagle followed and stretched out on the ground for a nap. The outside air quieted her spirits. Who was she to try and settle the McCrays’ dispute when her own family suffered many of the same symptoms? In high school, Jenna fussed with Mom and Dad about not getting to date the boys she wanted, and Bridgett never cared to do chores. Both her sisters had left home right out of high school, eager to be on their own.

  Mattie ladled warm Epsom water over Dusty’s wounds to ease his discomfort and remembered her own unease when she’d struck out on her own. She’d enrolled in vet school when her family thought she ought to be a teacher or nurse, and her return to Diamond Falls became fodder for even more criticism. By that time, her parents had moved to the city, so the disapproval went both ways.

  Her spine bristled thinking about the arguments they’d had at family get-togethers. It hurt to know her parents and sisters didn’t understand her. She supposed that’s why she’d latched on to Clara and John. They didn’t find her way of life strange, and neither seemed concerned about her marital status.

  Pouring another cup of water over Dusty’s limb, Mattie watched the milky droplets trickle down his leg.

  Not that she wasn’t interested in men.

  An image of Gil on his father’s horse came to mind. She considered the way his mouth tilted when he grinned, and her stomach twitched with uncertainty. She and Gil were alike in many ways, but also very different. Mainly in that his dreams carried him far from the isolated hills she loved.

  “A penny for your thoughts.”

  At the masculine voice, Mattie nearly tipped over her bucket of water. “Don’t you ever announce yourself?”

  “Sorry, Doc. Didn’t mean to surprise you.” Gil grinned.

  Mattie stood and dusted off her jeans, embarrassed by the direction of her thoughts. Her beagle sat up and yawned, his nap disturbed by the commotion. “Did you fix the fence already?”

  “I could work for days and not finish. That old wire ought to be ripped out and replaced by a brand new fence, but that would take all summer.”

  “You weren’t serious about moving your dad to town?” She had the distinct impression he might actually consider the possibility. “What would happen to the ranch?”

  “I’d rather have it bought by an outside corporation or run by the state than see it auctioned. At least then, I’d know the Lightning M would be cared for.”

  Mattie shook her head in disbelief. She despised those who claimed to care for the tallgrass more than the people whose blood and sweat paid for the prairie itself. They only wanted to use the property as a tax write-off as they’d done with her family’s ranch. “Your father would never sell your inheritance.”

  “You don’t know him as well as you think.” Gil went to Dusty’s side and slid his palm over the gelding’s back.

  “Doesn’t that bother you?”

  Gil’s eyes softened in a sad way, filled with regrets. Mattie noticed the cleft in his chin, and her eyes followed the curve of his jaw and the sleek skin of his cheek. Close enough to smell his aftershave, she felt a gentle stirring in her stomach that spread all the way up her throat. Mortified by where her thoughts had strayed, she stared down at Dusty’s trimmed hooves.

  “That’s one of the reasons I returned. Not to convince him to leave me an inheritance — but to make things right between us. Mama would have wanted me to try.”

  Glad to hear Gil’s resolve to do the right thing, Mattie bent down to lift the gelding’s right front hoof.

  “How is Dusty doing?”

  The horse was able to bear the extra weight, and she felt no unexpected warmth on the hoof. “He looks better today.” She eased the foot to the ground, then reached into her coat pocket to pull out an apple. With her pocketknife, she cut it in half and held it up to Dusty’s mouth.

  The gelding nipped at the white flesh, catching it between his teeth. Mattie crunched into the other half while his portion dropped to the ground. “Oh Dusty, you have to be hungry.”

  Discouraged, she flung the rest of her apple into the barnyard. Dusty flinched at the action but then leaned his head into Mattie’s stomach.

  “Sorry for scaring you, boy.” She stroked the side of his face, ashamed at her lack of consideration. “What are your plans for Dusty once he’s recovered?”

  Gil removed his hat and brushed his fingers through his matted hair. “Will he be saddled again?”

  Mattie studied the gelding and thought of the horse’s big heart, the way he nuzzled his nose against her when she tended to his needs. “You mean because of his eye? It might take a while, but he’ll develop his senses on his blind side. You shouldn’t have any trouble. At his age, he’d make a good ki
d’s horse. Or find him a home on a handicapped ranch.” All of these were viable alternatives, but not the one her heart desired.

  “Why not keep him here?” she suggested. “Buy some of those colts you mentioned, and let Dusty roam the pastures with them. He’d probably teach them a lesson or two about manners.”

  “You don’t give up, do you?” He caught one of her stray locks and tucked it behind her ear, his fingers warm against her neck. “Mildred ought to be ringing the dinner bell any minute. Will you join us for lunch?”

  Mattie stepped away from Gil’s touch. “I have lunchmeat at the cabin.”

  “Consider it a favor to me for saving your life this morning. Be the peacekeeper at the kitchen table.” His blue eyes crinkled in a smile.

  Mattie’s resolve wavered beneath the temptation. As she considered the invitation, Mildred stepped onto the porch and rang the dinner bell. She smiled and waved.

  “What did I tell you? Mildred will think you’re rude if you don’t join us now.”

  Mattie bit her lip as her stomach growled. “Okay, but I’m doing this for her, not you.”

  “I’ll tell her to set another plate.” Gil took off toward the house, while Mattie led Dusty to the barn. When she entered the kitchen minutes later, Gil, John, and Jake sat at the oblong table. She felt their attention as she washed her hands at the kitchen sink.

  “Mildred, your ham and potatoes smell wonderful. I hope it’s not a burden to feed one more.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” The older woman patted Mattie on the shoulder. “We could stand a few more females at the table, considering how much hot air these men blow.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  GIL CHUCKLED AT MILDRED’S COMMENT. “IF YOU THINK WE’RE BAD, you should hang around a locker room sometime.”

  “No thank you,” Mildred said and went back to slicing ham on the stove.

  While Mattie washed her hands at the sink, Gil thought about the doc’s lifestyle. She ate on the run, tended her patients at all hours of the day, and recently had her life turned upside down. Through all that, she was still a joy to be around. His mother had been that way. She always saw the good in people and tried to be thankful no matter what.

  Mattie took a seat opposite Jake. Gil removed his hat and laid it on the floor before offering grace.

  When he finished, Mildred set a bowl of steaming scalloped potatoes on the table. “I understand you had quite a morning chasing that bull in the pasture.”

  “You should have seen ’em.” Jake smacked the table with his fist. “Ol’ Blackie went into that trailer with his tail between his legs.” The ranch hand turned to Gil’s dad. “You’d be plumb proud of your dun mare. She’s as sassy as ever. Slammed right into the side of that bull and knocked him down. Thought I was at a rodeo.”

  “You don’t say?” The old man’s eyes piqued with interest. “You penned the bull today? On your own?” He sounded like he didn’t believe it — that he couldn’t imagine his son riding a horse after all these years.

  Gil nodded. “I had a little help from your new tenant.”

  His dad directed his gaze at Mattie. “You went with them to the pasture?” There was a reproachful edge in his words but also a hint of admiration.

  Mattie lowered her eyes.

  “If it hadn’t been for her,” Gil said, “there’s no telling how long I would have chased that bull. I was shocked at how well Tulip moved. Never guessed the girl had it in her.”

  This seemed to please his father. “Always liked riding that mare.” He winked at Mattie, then faced Gil. “How’d it feel to throw a rope again?”

  “Good.” Real good. “Makes me long to rope steers like we did when I was a kid.” The mention of it made Gil’s heart dance.

  “What’s stopping you? Pen some fall calves and have yourself a little roping practice.” His father’s voice chimed with enthusiasm.

  If Gil wasn’t careful, he’d slip into thinking everything was okay — that problems didn’t exist between him and his dad. He shook his head, reminding himself why he came home — to make amends. “I thought this afternoon I’d help Mattie with her room, then when the clinic’s done, I’d like to start fixing up this place, beginning with the house.”

  For a long moment, his father stared at the ceiling. “Reckon it’s been a while since anything’s been done to the exterior. Ain’t had a good sandblasting since you were in high school.”

  Excitement rushed through Gil at the thought of reviving his old home. “When the walls are done, we can shingle the roof. After that, I want to repair some of the old fence.”

  “Whoa, there.” His father cleared his throat. “Before you go making all these renovations, it might be wise to talk with me first, seeing as how I’m still the owner.”

  Gil wiped his mouth on his napkin. “These things need done, Dad. Now that I’m retired, I have the time and the money, so we may as well get started.”

  His father glanced at Mattie, then at Gil with a grumble. That the old man gave in without a fight surprised Gil, but it was probably because the doc tended to bring out a gentler side in his dad. Taking another bite of ham, he glanced out the window and noticed a red truck pull up to the barn. “Are you expecting a client?”

  Mattie stood from the table and went to the window, showing immediate recognition. “That’s Mavis. She’s decided to adopt the yellow stray.”

  WITH THE EXCEPTION OF DUSTY, MAVIS’S LABRADOR WAS THE LAST of Mattie’s patients. As the red truck pulled away, Mattie wondered how long it would be before she’d take on more clients. A week? Two weeks? Or longer, if she didn’t get to work.

  Mattie sighed and returned to the concrete-floored room sanctioned off for her in the barn. Half an hour later, she looked up as Gil strolled in with a tool belt strapped around his waist, her beagle right behind.

  “I have tools, and there’s wood in the barn. How can I help?” Gil had traded his canvas coat for a flannel shirt tucked into denim jeans. The sight of him made Mattie’s pulse quicken.

  They worked side-by-side all afternoon, clearing the room and building more shelves for medicine. In addition, they constructed two examining tables out of two-by-fours and sheets of plywood. Gil drove the last nail into the wood and let out a long, slow whistle.

  “I don’t know about you, but I could stand a break. You don’t happen to have any snickerdoodles sitting around, do ya?”

  A sliver of anxiety rushed through Mattie at the mention of those cookies, and how Gil once questioned her abilities as a vet. Yet here he was, helping her reestablish her business.

  “I might have something.” She laid her hammer down and moved past him, calling her pup to follow. As they headed for the cabin, Mattie noticed a flurry of activity in the corral.

  “What on earth is going on over there?”

  TWENTY-THREE

  GIL LOOKED PAST MATTIE AND SAW JAKE ON HIS HORSE, HERDING A dozen steers that had been unloaded from a trailer. His dad stood at the corral gate, cane in hand, with his blue heeler at his side.

  “Let’s go see what those old-timers are up to,” he said and veered toward the corral.

  His dad lifted his cane. “What took you so long? Go saddle your horses.”

  The smile on the man’s face reminded Gil of years gone by, before his dad turned cold against him. “What’s going on? Whose steers are these?”

  “Jake and I decided to create a little roping practice for you. Like the old days. Convinced a neighbor to bring some longhorns over.”

  Gil swallowed the knot in his throat. What made his father think he’d be interested in reviving this pastime? Acting like nothing’s happened, as though the last nineteen years had been a bad dream? Was the man in denial, or did he hope to make the bitterness between them disappear?

  How many nights had Gil gone to bed wishing the same?

  The difference lay in not getting his hopes up. He knew change wouldn’t take place overnight. But this was a start.

  Gil squinted into the su
n as it dipped behind the clouded horizon, casting golden-pink hues across the western sky. He grinned at the doc. “What do you think? Want to rope a few steers before supper?”

  Mattie’s eyes lit up, her enthusiasm contagious. “Beats staring at a cabin wall.”

  They saddled the mares they’d ridden that morning, and Gil handed Mattie a thirty-foot rope. “Try this on for size.”

  Mattie swung a loop over her head, each rotation bigger than the one before. She released the cord and missed her target by a few feet. Gil tried not to smile, knowing he might not do better. “It’s not as easy as it looks, but you’ll get the hang of it.”

  They rode to the arena where Jake, Gil’s dad, and the owner of the steers sat on square hay bales waiting for the fun to begin. On the opposite end of the arena, the longhorns bunched together along the fence. An occasional bawl drifted from the herd, adding to Gil’s anticipation. He kissed the dun into a trot, then loped a few circles. Mattie did the same.

  “You want to go first?” he asked when the horses were warmed up.

  Mattie released another practice throw and it fell on empty space to the ground. The woman was full of concentration, her tongue poking out the side of her mouth. “Why don’t you? I’m in no hurry to make a fool out of myself, especially in front of our audience.”

  “Those old geezers? Pretend they’re not there. That’s what I do.” Maybe he should have given her a few pointers before they began. The thought of holding the doc next to him with the sweet smell of her curls in his face sent a jolt through his body. He shook the image from his mind.

  “Frank and I used to keep score, but we won’t worry about that. Let’s just see how many we can catch.” Gil led the way and walked his horse through the spotted steers to break them apart. Not wanting to run them, he swung his lariat and relaxed into the smooth rhythm of the wrist to elbow movement, surprised at how comfortable it felt. The dun stepped into position behind a calf, and he released the rope, extending his arm for the follow-through. The loop pitched forward, then curled around the calf’s head, twisting into a figure eight over its back.