Homecoming Ranch

by Julia London

  “I have to admit, it’s sexy,” he said. “Unpredictable woman afraid of mice and cows.”

  The word sexy sluiced through Madeline like warm butter. “I am not afraid of cows,” she corrected him. “Let’s just say I am unfamiliar.”

  “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” He patted her on the shoulder and stepped around her, starting down behind the cows.

  Madeline hurried after him in case another unfamiliar beast should make an appearance. “Wait!” She hurried to catch up. “Where are you going?”

  “To build some temporary showers. Wanna help?” he asked, then bellowed at one of the cows to move, hitting it on the rump. The cow galloped around the one in front, and the two of them trotted to the barn.

  “I do! I had some thoughts on how to proceed,” she said.

  “With what?”

  “All the work that must be done.”

  They had reached an old pickup that had stacks of plywood and assorted lumber in its bed.

  “I thought about dividing the work into quadrants.”

  Luke paused and gave her a puzzled look. “Into what?”

  “Quadrants. It’s my organization technique. I am going to work on the contracts and research,” she said, holding up a finger. “Libby is cleaning. You will do construction.” She held up a forth finger. “We can decide later who will handle the Johnsons. I was thinking maybe a bulletin board by the fence around the front yard, you know, for notes and Lost and Found—” She gave herself a quick shake of the head. “I am getting ahead of myself. The point is, someone needs to deal with the Johnsons.”

  Luke regarded her with a curious smile. “Quadrants, huh?”

  “Trust me. It works.”

  “Are you always so organized?”

  “Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “Always.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?”

  “I’m just wondering if someone can really live a life in quadrants.” He handed her a hammer.

  “I don’t live in quadrants,” she said, as if that were ridiculous. “But organization is what makes the world go around. What’s this?”

  “A hammer.”

  She smiled. “I know it’s a hammer. But why are you giving it to me?”

  “Because we need to start building showers. And organization does not make the world go round, people do. Flawed, unorganized people. Do you ever just go with the flow?”

  “No,” she said, watching him strap on a tool belt that hung low on his hips.

  “Well that was definitive. Why not?”

  “In my experience,” she said with a small incline of her head, “in the absence of organization and planning, there is only chaos.”

  “I would argue—” he paused with a slight grunt to hoist lumber onto his shoulder from the bed of the truck “—that in chaos, there is often the joy of discovery.”

  “Oh no,” Madeline said with a laugh. She knew chaos, and she had never known there to be any joy in it. Madeline had only to think back on her life, at the many times her mother’s lack of organization had left them living in a car—

  “What about yesterday?” He winked at her and started toward the bunkhouse.

  Madeline blushed deeply at the reminder. “I’m just trying to avoid a big chaotic disaster here!” she called after him, and heard him laugh.

  “You can’t control everything, you know. Up here it’s okay to go with the flow. The mountains have their own energy. You’ll see what I mean. But for right now, Blue Eyes, we need to organize some showers.”

  He had a point. Madeline followed him down to the bunkhouse. There were three men there, two of them digging a trough. Madeline cringed a little at the sight of the man with long damp hair.

  Luke surprised her, speaking to the men in Spanish. The four of them began to work, building a platform from slatted wood. Luke made Madeline help, standing behind her, showing her how to hold the hammer and set a nail when the four men hoisted a sheet of plywood.

  It was hard work, she quickly realized, but exhilarating. They managed to erect the back of what would become three temporary showers. But when her arm began to burn with the exertion, and the hammer grew heavier, Luke took it from her. “You’re fired,” he teased her, and made quick work of the two nails she’d been assigned to hammer. “We’ll finish up here.”

  She wouldn’t argue and stepped back. “I’ll go… organize something else,” she said.

  “Still need the ride tomorrow?” Luke asked as she began to back away.

  “Still offering?”

  “Of course. I could use a passenger who carries a map and a highlighter. I’ll pick you up at the airport rental at five?”

  Madeline could feel that ridiculously broad smile appear on her face again. “See you then,” she said, and turned around, striding away before she turned to goo.

  She looked back only once. Luke was still watching her. She smiled and turned around again.

  Yep, she was right. That man looked awfully good in a pair of jeans. Madeline walked back to the house, feeling the pull of the mountains—or something—through her. She felt good. Airy. As if wind chimes were tinkling deep inside her.

  Libby walked out onto the porch with a basket of laundry as Madeline stepped into the yard. She wasn’t even perturbed with Libby anymore. “Need some help?” she offered.

  “Hanging laundry?” Libby asked.

  “I happen to be an expert laundry hanger,” Madeline said.

  “Okay,” Libby said. “Come on.”

  Madeline followed Libby into the trees and a clearing she had not seen until now. There was a deck here, a couple of old Adirondack chairs among pots that had obviously been full at one point, judging by the dead leaves and stems. And a table made from the stump of an old tree. A pair of mushrooms was growing from a crack in the middle of it. A frayed hammock swung between two trees, next to the clothesline.

  “This is pretty,” Madeline said.

  “I think it was Mrs. Kendrick’s garden,” Libby said, and planted the basket at her feet. She picked three clothespins from the line and pulled a floral chiffon blouse from the basket.

  “That’s lovely,” Madeline said, and picked up a towel.

  “Thanks. I bought it for a wedding.”

  “Whose?” Madeline asked idly as she pinned the towel.

  Libby gave her a funny look. “Dad’s,” she said after a moment. “His last one. What was it, five? Six? I lost count.”

  “Wow,” Madeline said.

  “Yeah… I guess he got around.”

  Madeline wondered how Grant managed to attract so many women. Was he handsome? Sophisticated? She surprised herself by asking, “What sort of dad was he?”

  “He was okay,” Libby said, and shrugged. “He was decent to me.”

  Decent was an odd way to describe a father.

  “You really don’t know anything about him?” Libby asked as she picked up a sheet. “I mean, surely your mom must have said something about him, right?”

  Madeline snorted. “My mom hardly remembers him. I don’t think they were together very long. What about your mom?”

  “They were together a few years after he split up from Emma’s mom. I don’t know this for a fact, but I think maybe something was going on between them before he ever left Emma’s mom. My mom calls him her brain drain.” She laughed at that.

  So did Madeline. “Did he do things with you? I mean, like father-daughter dances, or softball, something like that?”

  Libby tossed her head back and laughed. “God no,” she said, smiling with amusement. “He wasn’t that kind of dad. He was the kind of dad who sometimes gave me money and every once in a while would take me to dinner and ask how I was doing. And then I wouldn’t hear from him for months.” She paused, looking off for a moment. “He took Emma and me to Disney once. But even then, I remember he stayed in the hotel watching sports while Emma’s mother took us to the park.”

  As a child, Madeline had been dragged to Disney W
orld with her mother and her friends, usually left to fend for herself, loosely chaperoned by some teen, while her mother and her friends stayed behind in a seedy hotel and drank. Madeline hated Disney because of that.

  “How did you end up in California with Emma, if he was married to your mom later?” Madeline asked.

  Libby sighed. “Oh, the drama.” She paused to pin a pillowcase. “We lived in Colorado Springs. When I was about eight, he and my mom broke up, and he went back to Emma’s mom in California. It was like a soap opera. Anyway, Mom and Dad had this big, ugly custody fight and she lost the first go-round. Dad didn’t want to pay child support.” She smiled sheepishly at Madeline. “I guess that’s no surprise.”

  Madeline smiled back. “Unfortunately, no.”

  “I was there a year or so with Emma and her mom, then Dad thought I’d be better off with my mom and shipped me home. My mom had met her second husband by then.”

  “Do you keep in touch with Emma?” Madeline asked.

  Libby clipped a sheet on the line. “Not really. Emma’s different. She’s always out in the world doing things. And she’s not very sentimental. Me, I’m more of a homebody. What about you?”

  “It’s just me and my mom,” Madeline said. “She never married. And she wasn’t very good at holding down a job, so we bounced around a lot.”

  “Looks like we have a few things in common after all, Madeline,” Libby said.

  Madeline wasn’t sure why Libby said it precisely that way, as if she had already determined that they had nothing in common. Generally, Madeline would agree. But Madeline was beginning to warm to Libby. There was something about her that Madeline could relate to. As much as she hated to admit it, it was something sad.

  “I’m going to Denver tomorrow,” Madeline announced, turning back to business and the safety she felt in the midst of rules and tasks that needed completion, “I have to return my car to Denver. I’m going to catch a ride back with Luke. So I don’t know how late I will be.”

  “Luke, huh?” Libby asked slyly.

  “It’s not like that,” Madeline said. “He’s just doing me a favor.”

  Libby looked as if she didn’t believe Madeline for even a moment. “You have to admit that he’s not too hard on the eyes.”

  “He’s okay,” Madeline said, but she could feel the telltale heat creeping into her cheeks and smiled self-consciously.

  “Okay?” Libby snorted. “Most women I know would kill to have a shot with a guy like Luke Kendrick. But then, I hear he is still in love with Julie Daugherty.”

  Madeline’s heart fluttered. “Who?” she asked coyly, knowing very well who. A pretty blonde woman with an adorable baby girl, that was who.

  “Julie Daugherty. They were together for a few years. They were supposed to get married a while back, but then she broke it off.”

  That certainly had Madeline’s attention. “Really? What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Libby said. “I just heard it through the grapevine.”

  This is what happened when attachments formed, Madeline thought. Disappointment. Deep rivers of disappointment. Perhaps this was a good thing. Madeline didn’t want any attachment, so the rumor served as a reminder that she was experiencing nothing more than a little mountain flirtation that Trudi would congratulate her for. Nothing more.

  As Libby chattered about something Julie did in high school, Madeline reminded herself that her life was in Orlando and she needed to concentrate on doing what she needed to do so she could go home. She really couldn’t afford to be wandering around the mountains thinking silly thoughts about a man she would not know more than this week. Nor did she want to be on hand when the Johnsons began to show up.

  In fact, when she left here today, she would drive to town and call Stephen, get the name of that realtor. No use putting that off, was there?

  Yep, hearing about Luke and Julie was a good thing. It gave her perspective again. And Madeline would ignore that hearing it felt a little like being punched.

  NINETEEN

  So Dad and I are off to Durango today so they can stick more needles in me. I wanted Luke to come, but he said, “No, man, I have to go to Denver and check on work,” which I thought was perfectly reasonable, seeing as how he has a business there and didn’t count on all this stuff with Homecoming Ranch. But I was hoping he would come because Make-A-Wish-Foundation is all over that hospital, and I’ve got a deal with this kid, Dante.

  Dante is sixteen, and he’s got Stage IV cancer, and the Make-A-Wish people want him to make a wish. He said he couldn’t do Disney, he’d rather die than do Disney. I don’t think he meant it like that, but, you know, like he really didn’t want to go to Disney. So I said, “Dude, you gotta shoot higher! Go big or go home! You gotta go for something that makes you want to do the chemo every day, right?” And he said he didn’t know what that was. But I know this kid, he’s always there when I am. I know he’s like me, and he loves sports. So I suggested, “How about a Denver Bronco’s game in a skybox?”

  You should have seen Dante—he lit up like Rockefeller Center at Christmas time.

  So we’ve been working on a deal where we are trying to convince Make-A-Wish to grant him that wish, along with a close, personal friend. That’s me, the color commentator. I can tell him everything there is to know about every player on the Broncos’ roster and then some.

  I wanted to introduce Luke to Dante so Dante would add him to the list, too, because again, we’re talking the Broncos in premium seats.

  So anyway, Luke said he couldn’t go, and then he said he’d be late because he’s picking up Blue Eyes in Denver and taking her back to Homecoming Ranch, and I’m like, “The ranch? I thought you didn’t want them out there!”

  And he said, “I don’t. But it’s okay, we’ve worked it out for now.”

  Listen, I may be tied to a chair, but I am no slouch in the perception department. But lately, I can’t read Luke at all. One minute he’s “thinking” about Julie, and the next, he’s got this funny look on his face telling me he’s giving Blue Eyes a ride. I observed, and very casually I might add, “You seem to be running into Blue Eyes a lot.”

  Luke knows he is, because he didn’t try to argue. He just laughed and said, “Don’t wait up, loser.”

  Well, the joke is on buddy boy, because I will be up, because tonight is The Walking Dead marathon, and I am not missing that.

  So okay, Luke went on his way, as happy as a kid in a bouncy castle, and I bet he hadn’t even hit Sometimes Pass when Julie showed up. She stood at the screen door with her baby, all smiles, and yeah, her baby is supercute. She said “Hey, Leo, is Luke around?” Like she didn’t dump him for Brandon. Like she hasn’t called him every time she gets worried and then dumps him all over again. She’s like one of those bounce back paddleballs, just keeps hitting him and waiting for him to bounce back, then hitting him again.

  I said, “No. He went back to Denver.” I didn’t say he was coming back, and Julie looked kind of shocked, like, “What-am-I-going-to-do-with-this-baby” shocked, but then Marisol comes in with my medicine and she says, “What are you doing here, Julie?”

  Julie said, “I’m looking for Luke.”

  Well, Marisol, she’s not a fan of Julie, but she’s also not a fan of lying, and she said, “He went to Denver, he’ll be back later.”

  And I said, “Way later. Like next year later.”

  Marisol squeezed my shoulder really hard and she said, “Maybe you should come back tomorrow, Julie. It will be late before he gets back.”

  Of course Julie was all sweet smiles and thank-yous to Marisol, and she went bopping down the steps, her baby on her hip, looking back at me.

  I swear, I think that baby gave me the stink eye.

  Luke—I tried, bro, I tried.

  TWENTY

  Luke’s day in Denver was not what he’d call a towering success.

  The first thing he did when he arrived was to drive to his little two-bedroom bungalow in an older part
of Denver. He’d bought the rundown piece of crap and had restored it with some money his mom had left him. Since then, the market had come up. Luke liked knowing that if anything ever happened, he had some equity in this house. Anything, like needing an attorney. The equity in his house was what he planned to use to fight the loss of Homecoming Ranch.

  But before he spoke to an attorney, Luke had to see about his housing starts. He left the Bronco, switched to his work truck, and drove to the outskirts of Denver to check on the first three Kendrick Custom Homes. With the help of Stuart Homes, where he’d apprenticed the last few years, and who owned a minority share in his business, Luke had purchased three lots in a new subdivision. It had taken some time to get the deeds and permits set up, but in the last month, they had finished the site prep, had poured three slabs, and if all had gone well last week, the framing would have begun by now.

  As he turned the corner onto Mountain View Street, he grinned at the sight before him. The framing on the first house looked almost complete.

  He parked his work truck, hopped out. Refugio, the crew boss, met him on the sidewalk, and together, they walked through the framing so Luke could have a look. Satisfied that things were moving along, Luke was headed back to his truck when he saw Ben Stuart’s king cab pickup truck glide to a halt next to the curb. Ben emerged with a wave for Luke. “Hey buddy!” he said cheerfully. “I wondered when you’d be back.”

  “I’m here today,” Luke said. “Framework looks good.”

  Ben nodded, then looked back at Luke. “What do you mean, you’re here today? Your dad’s okay, right?”

  Luke had told Ben that something had come up with his dad, but he hadn’t explained what. “Dad’s okay,” Luke assured him. “He just needs some help with a couple of things.”

  Ben looked at Luke expectantly, wanting more.

  Luke glanced at the two empty slabs. “Refugio said he could start framing this one next week.” He glanced at Ben. “But I need to go back home for a week or two.”

  Ben’s pleasant expression began to fade. “One week? Or two?”

  Honestly, Luke didn’t know long he’d be. He still didn’t know exactly what he was doing in Pine River, other than trying to stick his fingers into a bunch of little holes in the dyke.