by R. C. Ryan
“Will I wrap them, or would you ladies care to wear them and I’ll wrap the clothes you were wearing when you came in?”
Lily caught her sister’s hand. “Can I wear mine, Ingrid?”
“Absolutely. But I’ll get my old…”
Before she could finish, Grace gave a firm shake of her head. “You’re wearing that.” She turned to Trudy. “You can wrap my new shirt and the clothes left in the fitting room.”
“And these,” Nessa added.
While Ingrid was busy admiring her little sister, Vanessa handed Trudy several T-shirts in deep shades of red, and yellow, and lime green.
At Grace’s arched brow, she said softly, “They’re the same size as the one Ingrid tried on, so I know they’ll fit her. And the colors are fantastic.”
Grace chuckled. “I have a feeling Luke will approve.”
“All part of my plan,” Nessa replied with a wink.
The shop owner rang up the sale, handed Grace her credit card, and then crossed the room to fetch the clothes they’d shed in the fitting room.
Minutes later they tossed the bag in the truck and began walking along the sidewalk, taking in the sunshine, waving at friends and neighbors who were out and about and pausing before each shop to peer in the windows.
At last they found themselves in front of Clay’s Saloon.
Grace turned to the others. “This is the famous Pig Sty. We can eat here, or we can walk back to D & B’s. Anybody have a favorite?”
Nessa was grinning. “The first time Matt took me here, I heard the name Pig Sty and was ready to put up with awful food and disgusting surroundings. But I have to tell you, it’s a really fun, clean place. And Clay’s pork meals are as good as Yancy serves.” She leaned in to whisper, “Just never tell Yancy I said that.”
The others laughed before Grace pushed open the door. “I think you’ve sold Ingrid and Lily.”
The two sisters nodded as they followed her inside.
It was a typical lunch-hour crowd. Cowboys, in town for supplies, crowded the bar or sat in groups of three and four at the scarred wooden tables. Workers from the nearby small businesses made up the rest of the crowd.
The familiar voice of Willie, crooning about being on the road again, filtered through the chorus of raucous conversation and laughter.
A white-haired man in jeans and suspenders, his rolled sleeves revealing muscled biceps, stood at the grill, methodically turning pork chops while carrying on a running conversation with several grizzled cowboys seated on bar stools. From the jokes flying back and forth, it was clear that they were longtime customers.
“Hello, Clay.”
At the sound of Grace’s voice, his hand paused in midair and he made a courtly bow.
“Ms. Grace. Good to see you in town. How are you?”
“I’m just fine, Clay. I believe you know Matt’s wife, Vanessa.”
“Yes’m.” He nodded in her direction.
“And these are guests of mine. Ingrid and Lily.”
He gave them each a smile.
“What’s on the menu today, Clay?”
Clay continued flipping chops on the grill as he went through the items available. “I have grilled pork chops. Stuffed baked chops. Pulled pork sandwiches on homemade sourdough bread. Pork chili. And pure pork hot dogs, also on homemade sourdough rolls. All served with a side of deep-fried onion rings or my special pork chili fries.”
Grace turned to wink at the others. “They all sound wonderful. What’s your pleasure?”
Vanessa opted for the pulled pork sandwich. Ingrid decided on the chili. Lily pointed to the foot-long hot dog. And Grace ordered the stuffed baked chops, with a side of both onion rings and chili fries to be sampled by all of them.
“Careful, Ms. Grace,” one grizzled old cowboy shouted. “Clay won’t reveal what’s in his stuffed pork chops. He calls it his mystery stuffing. We call it stuffing a la salmonella.”
Above the laughter Clay asked calmly, “And to drink, ladies?”
“I believe I’m ready for a longneck.” Nessa turned to Ingrid. “Join me?”
When Ingrid nodded, Grace turned to Lily. “Clay has root beer and lemonade. Is that right, Clay?”
“Right you are, Ms. Grace.”
“Root beer,” Lily called.
“And I’ll just have ice water, Clay.”
He nodded. “Find a seat, ladies, and I’ll get that right to you.”
Grace led the way to the rear of the room, away from the loud chatter of voices and Willie’s crooning. She chose a booth in the corner, and the four of them settled in.
Minutes later Clay Olmsted was there with their drinks, followed shortly after with plates, bowls, and platters heaped with their orders.
They took their time, savoring the amazing flavors and remarking over the onion rings and chili fries.
Ingrid nudged Vanessa. “You were right. This isn’t at all what I expected from the name Pig Sty. And even though you said it was clean and the food was good, you didn’t do it justice.”
“You realize it isn’t really called the Pig Sty,” Grace explained. “It’s called Clay’s Saloon, but folks around here started calling it the Pig Sty, because Clay owned a pig farm before starting this business. He sold it and then bought a piece of land just outside of town, where he and his wife still raise hogs, but not nearly as many as he once did.”
“And that’s why all his recipes call for pork. He has an endless supply,” Vanessa added.
Ingrid sat back, finishing her longneck with a wide smile. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat again for a week.”
“Me too.” Lily took the last bite of her hot dog. Then, for good measure, bit into another chili fry. And another.
Ingrid shared a look with Vanessa and Grace, and the three of them broke into gales of laughter.
Lily looked around. “What’s so funny?”
“You, honey.” Ingrid reached across the table and squeezed her little sister’s hand. “Should we get you another plate of chili fries?”
Lily gave it a moment’s thought before shaking her head. “Now I’m full. That was so good.” She turned to Grace. “Thank you for lunch. I haven’t had root beer in forever.”
“To a seven-year old, forever means at least a month or so.” Ingrid was still laughing.
“Yeah.” Lily nodded. “And I’ve never had a hot dog that big before.” She stretched out her hands to show just how long it had been.
“That’s because Clay’s wife makes them at their little farm. Clay wanted them big enough to fit the long, sourdough rolls he bakes daily.”
“So he’s really a cook rather than a farmer,” Ingrid remarked.
“And his wife is a better farmer than a cook.” Grace laughed. “That’s why they make such a great team.”
Ingrid turned to Vanessa. “Did you and Matt grow up around here?”
Vanessa shook her head. “I grew up in Chicago. I work for a group of wildlife animal activists based in Washington, DC. I came to Montana to meet with Gram Gracie, but she was out on one of her photographic safaris, and she asked Matt to meet with me instead. But there was a problem. Matt was up at one of the range shacks, and after our meeting, a storm blew in and I was forced to spend the night.” She looked over at Grace. “And the rest, as they say, is history.”
Grace put a hand on Ingrid’s arm. “I’m afraid she’s left out most of the good parts of the story, but our family is delighted that they have their happy ending.”
“And we continue to live it every day.” Nessa’s eyes went soft before she said, “You and Luke seem to have had an equally stormy meeting.”
Ingrid’s eyes crinkled with humor. “You could say that.”
Grace’s voice lowered. “I know Luke has a wild streak in him. And has had since he was just a boy. But I’d trust him with my life.”
Ingrid nodded. “When I first met him, I saw only that wild side. But after a while, I started to see other things, too. He’s generous. With his
time. With his patience. With his energy. While he was at my ranch, he seemed to sense when one of us was at the end of our rope, and he quietly stepped in to give us some room to breathe.”
Grace heard the change in Ingrid’s voice and looked into her eyes in time to see them mist, for just a moment, before she blinked and the look was gone.
She put a hand on Ingrid’s arm. “I know I’m prejudiced, but I happen to know that Luke is a good man. A very good man.”
Seeing that the crowd had thinned considerably, they walked to the front of the room, where Clay was still flipping chops while carrying on a running conversation with his regulars.
“Good-bye, Clay, and thank you for a grand lunch,” Grace called.
He gave a courtly bow. “My pleasure, ladies. You all come back. I hope you had a chance to recharge your batteries for the rest of the day.”
Grace smiled and looped her arm through Lily’s. “I don’t know about the others, but I’m definitely recharged and reenergized.”
Chapter Seventeen
Grace turned in the direction of the hardware store, and the others trailed slowly behind.
At the door she paused. “Frankie told me he’d ordered a few things here. Care to join me?”
They followed her inside. While she walked to the counter to pick up the supplies Frank had ordered, the other three walked slowly around the store.
Nessa stopped to study an assortment of glass doorknobs. “These look just like the ones in my grandmother’s old Victorian house in Illinois.”
“Oh, how pretty.” Ingrid picked one up. “It’s heavy. It feels like leaded glass.”
“It is,” came a voice behind them.
They turned to see Grace beside an elderly man with a walker.
Grace smiled at the others. “This is Melvin Hopkins Sr. He built this store. His son, Melvin Jr., runs it now, but as you can see, Senior is still very much involved in the products they carry.” She indicated the young women. “Melvin, this is Matt’s wife, Vanessa.”
“Matthew got himself a beautiful bride,” he said as he shook her hand.
“And these are our houseguests. Ingrid and Lily Larsen.”
He gave Ingrid a look. “Was your daddy Lars?”
Both sisters nodded.
“A good man, your daddy. He was a regular customer here.” He extended a hand to Lily, and then to Ingrid, meeting her direct gaze. “I was sorry to hear about his passing.”
“Thank you.” Ingrid spoke for both of them, clearly touched by his kind words.
The old man returned his attention to the bin of knobs. “I started collecting those when I was just a boy. Now they’ve become the choice for a lot of young couples who want to bring back the glory of the old days.”
Vanessa looked down at the light glinting off the glass knobs. “I know where I’m bringing Matt when we get around to building our house.”
“I hope it won’t be soon.” Grace lay a hand on Nessa’s arm. “Frankie and I so enjoy having you both with us.”
“And we love being with you, too.” Vanessa brushed Gracie’s cheek with a kiss. “But Matt has always wanted to build a place on the North Ridge. It’s really special to him, and to me.”
“I know. And I completely understand. You deserve your own place, where you can start your family and make a home uniquely yours. But whenever you move, you know that Frankie and I will miss you both terribly.”
“We’ll be so close, you’ll soon find yourself wishing we’d move far away.”
“Never.” Grace gave a vehement shake of her head.
Nessa glanced at Ingrid. “Maybe we’ll hold off long enough for you to find some other permanent guests, so you won’t be lonely.”
Seeing where this was going, Ingrid smiled gently. “I have a ranch to run. I told Luke this was only for a night or two.”
“Of course. But please don’t blame us if we try to coax you to stay longer.” Grace caught Lily’s hand and began leading her back to the counter, where Frankie’s order was bagged and waiting.
A short time later, after calling their good-byes to Melvin Sr. and Melvin Jr., they left the hardware store and started up the street.
“We can’t leave town without having dessert.” Grace pointed to the pretty little shop with a sign that read I’S CREAM.
Lily read the words out loud. “I’s Cream.”
Grace winked at the others. “Say it aloud again.”
“I’s Cream. I’s Cream.” The little girl’s eyes went wide. “Ice cream.” She looked at Grace. “We’re going for ice cream?”
“You bet we are.” Grace caught her hand. “Come on.”
“Oh boy.” Lily’s words sang on the air as the two skipped down the sidewalk.
Behind them, Ingrid and Nessa shared a giggle as Ingrid said, “I don’t know which of them is more excited.”
“Two kids in a candy store,” Nessa remarked.
“Or in an ice cream shop.” At Ingrid’s words, they caught hands and hurried to catch up.
“Now this alone would be worth the drive to town.” Grace licked the edges of her cone.
Nessa’s eyes lit. “What in the world did you order?”
“A double-dipped Monster Chocolate Marshmallow Honeycomb Delight.” Grace laughed like a girl. “How about you?”
“Mud Pie and Cookie Dough, with hazelnut topping.”
“Ingrid?” Grace looked at the two sisters as they sat side by side on a smooth log, which rested on two massive tree trunks and served as a bench.
“Mine’s Strawberry Cotton Candy and Jolly Cherry Cherub.”
“Lily?”
The girl had to take a moment to lick away a drop that was about to fall from her sugar cone. “Once in a Blue Moon and Purple People Eater.”
“Who would have believed blue and purple ice cream?” Grace gave a mock shudder. “I’m sure it tastes lovely, but those colors…”
Lily held out her cone. “Want a taste, Gram Gracie?”
The older woman laughed. “No, thank you. If I manage to eat all this, I’ll be amazed.”
“My money’s on you,” Vanessa said between licks of her ice cream.
As they sat in the sunshine, enjoying their sweet treats, they looked up when Nessa called, “Dr. Anita. How nice to see you.”
A pretty young woman stepped out of the shop holding a cone of chocolate ice cream.
“Nessa. What a lovely surprise.” She looked over. “And Ms. Grace. How are you?”
“Just fine, dear.” Grace moved over to make room. “Will you join us?”
“Thank you.”
As Dr. Anita sat, Grace added, “Dr. Anita Cross, these are guests of ours. Ingrid and Lily Larsen.”
They smiled and greeted one another while keeping careful hold of their cones.
“How are things at the clinic?”
Dr. Anita rolled her eyes. “Busy. This is the first break I’ve had all day, and I thought I’d treat myself before the next go-round begins.” She kept her gaze averted as she asked casually, “How is Colin, Ms. Grace?”
“Just fine, dear. He’s currently up in the highlands with our wranglers.”
“This has to be a busy time for ranchers.”
Grace gave a small laugh. “I can’t think of a time when we aren’t busy. Whether it’s calving in spring, or roundup in fall, or all the times in between, there’s just never a lull in the activities.”
Anita nodded. “It’s the same for doctors. There just never seems to be enough time in the day.”
Grace gave a knowing smile. “And still, despite all the demands on our time, we manage to live our lives. Sometimes, when Frankie and I look back, we wonder at all we’ve experienced. Birth, death. Laughter and tears. Good times, and some not so good that we’d rather forget. But here we are, still filling every hour of every day, and grateful for every minute of it.”
Anita Cross polished off the last of her small cone before getting to her feet. As she did, she lay a hand on Grace’s arm. “Th
ank you for the reminder that I need to take time for life while rushing through my busy routine.” She glanced around at the others. “It was so good meeting you, Ingrid and Lily. And, Nessa, good seeing you again.” In an aside to Grace she added, “Give my best to Colin.”
“I will, dear.”
Grace turned to watch as the pretty doctor hurried along the sidewalk toward the medical clinic.
She turned back to Vanessa. “I do believe I caught a glimmer of something in her eyes when she mentioned Colin’s name.”
Nessa gave a little cat smile. “You see? There’s always hope, Gram Gracie.”
The older woman returned her attention to the cone with renewed enjoyment. But she kept glancing down the sidewalk until the young doctor disappeared inside the doors of the medical clinic.
Dr. Anita Cross was pretty and bright and had an endearing personality. She probably also had half a dozen men standing in line in the hope of winning her hand. But that didn’t stop Grace from wishing and dreaming.
As the ranch truck drew up alongside the back door, Ingrid spoke for all of them.
“Gram Gracie, I can’t thank you enough for this day.” She looked down at her new shirt, then at Lily’s entire outfit. “Thank you for these beautiful clothes. And lunch. And ice cream. I can’t remember the last time I did nothing except indulge myself.”
Grace turned off the ignition and glanced at Ingrid in the rearview mirror. “And now I’ll thank all of you. It was such a treat for me to have a girls’ day. I’ve never done this before. Usually, when I go to town, I go with Frankie, or with Burke or one of my grandsons. I have to tell you, it’s much sweeter doing it with girls.”
Vanessa caught her hand. “Then we should make a pact to do this on a regular basis. And maybe next time we’ll try Snips and Dips.”
Grace held up her hands. “These old fingernails haven’t seen polish since I was a bride.”
“Then it’s settled.” Nessa turned to glance at Ingrid and Lily. “I see it as our duty to force Gram Gracie into having a manicure, pedicure, and massage.”
“Only if you three promise to do it right along with me.”
