White Christmas in Dry Creek

by Janet Tronstad

  Renee bent down and gave her daughter a kiss on her forehead. “You do what Grandma and Grandpa say, now, understand?”

  Tessie nodded her head vigorously and her eyes shone with excitement.

  With that Renee’s father and stepmother turned and started walking down the aisle to reach the back of the church, Tessie skipping along between them.

  Renee and Rusty stood watching them for a moment.

  “I miss her already,” Renee said with a smile up at Rusty. “She doesn’t leave me often.”

  “It’s hard to compete with kittens,” Rusty consoled her.

  Renee smiled at that. “I don’t know what I’d do if they had puppies. I’d never see her.”

  “Well, I’m sure we can think of something to do today to keep your mind off your loneliness,” Rusty said as he offered her his left elbow to hold on to. When she looked at him, puzzled, he added, “I’m guessing the steps are already icy out there. No point in ruining a good day with a fall.”

  They walked to the door and agreed that the weather was very cold. New snow hadn’t started to fall yet, although gusts of wind were stirring up what snow was already on the ground.

  Renee held on to his arm as they walked down the steps and headed to the pickup. This time when they arrived, Rusty took the scraper and quickly ran it over the bottom half of the windshield.

  “The only snow that’s on there came from the wind blowing,” he said as he climbed into the pickup cab after Renee had started the engine.

  They were the last ones to drive away from the church and Renee decided the day might be enjoyable after all. The cab warmed up quickly and the roads were only beginning to drift over.

  * * *

  Rusty knew the routine by the time they got back to the bunkhouse, and he set the table for Renee while she stirred up the corn bread in the kitchen. She said she also had an apple crisp made the day before that she was going to heat for dessert. He noticed the ranch hands looking at him with curiosity on their faces.

  “She hire you or something?” Pete finally asked from his perch on the bench by the fireplace. He had a knife out and was doing some whittling. Rusty looked for a pile of shavings, but there were none, so he figured the other man was merely smoothing out some work he’d already done.

  “No,” Rusty said with a shake of his head as he circled the table with white bowls that he put at each place. “Worse than that. She saved my life.”

  The other man considered those words. “I suppose that does put you under some obligation.” He paused. “But anyone would do the same.”

  “Then I’d be laying out dishes on their table,” Rusty agreed. “I believe in paying my debts.”

  “Well, I can’t argue with that,” Pete said as he set his whittling aside and stood up. “Next time head for the bunkhouse, though. The most we’d make you do is muck out some of the horse stalls.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Rusty noted. “It’s been some time since I was around livestock, but a man never forgets the pleasure of working with animals.”

  Pete eyed him for a bit. “A ranch boy never forgets much of anything.”

  Rusty nodded but didn’t say anything. He wished he could wipe from his memory some things about his days on the ranch. He didn’t consider remembering to be as important as some others might. Life with his father had been no stroll by a mountain brook.

  “I reckon you know most everything there is to know about ranching,” Pete added, walking closer to the table where Rusty was working. “I’ve been on the place your father used to have. You had lots of acreage.”

  “All bought and paid for by my great-grandparents,” Rusty said. He didn’t like to give the impression to people that his father had been the one to pay for the ranch. He’d inherited it just the way his parents had done.

  Pete finally said what Rusty figured he had been leading up to for the past few minutes. “Mr. Elkton is looking for a new foreman. You might think about applying.”

  Rusty stopped at that.

  “Don’t any of the men here want the job?” he asked.

  Most of them were ranch boys, too. Rusty knew that much from his conversation with them this morning. The custom was that Sunday was the cook’s morning off and the men made do with bowls of cornflakes for breakfast. When Rusty got up, he’d decided he’d rather have some eggs and bacon, and since Renee had already told him that those were some of the things she always bought plenty of, he decided to get a frying pan hot and make himself some. He used a little flour, milk and eggs to make himself some pancake batter, too.

  By the time he was halfway through cooking his breakfast, a line had formed outside the cookhouse door with men looking for a handout.

  Once a man got cooking, it wasn’t that hard to fry up a few more eggs and pancakes, so he kept on making breakfast until everyone was full.

  He liked to think he’d made a few friends this morning using a spatula, and he didn’t want to snatch away a job that one of them had his eye on.

  “Well, now,” Pete said as he ran his hand along his chin in thought. “It’s not that easy to be foreman. You got to set up the work schedules, which means the foreman almost always has someone upset with him. And you have to take the lead on the branding in the fall and the calving in the spring. Means late nights.”

  Pete paused. “The truth is those of us working now are all in our forties and up. Now, we’re good workers, don’t get me wrong. But a man in his twenties might have more drive than the rest of us.”

  Rusty considered what Pete was telling him. “You’re not just saying that because you know I don’t have a job or anywhere else to go?”

  “We’re not running any charity outfit, if that’s what you’re asking. And it’s Mr. Elkton that would have the final say anyway. We’d be happy to put in a good word for you if you want us to.”

  Rusty grinned. “I wouldn’t say no. I’ve missed Montana. There’s nothing like looking out as far as a man can see and finding nothing but grass and sky.”

  Rusty stood a moment enjoying the place. He felt surrounded by goodwill and friends. He could hear the storm starting outside, but a steady heat was coming from the fireplace as the embers of a large log glowed in the afternoon.

  Then he heard the sound of the cart Renee used to bring the food over to the bunkhouse. Metal grated as wheels rolled over the wood planks.

  “Let’s not mention it to—” Rusty said.

  He didn’t even finish before Pete nodded. “Right. Give her time to get used to you before you tell her you might be staying. Women like to take things slow.”

  Rusty wasn’t sure time was the problem here, but he nodded as he walked over to open the door for Renee. He almost told her about the job possibility the minute he saw her face. Her cheeks were red from the cold and she looked merry. Instead, he helped her pull the cart into the room before she stepped back out to the porch and rang a gong.

  “I had no idea you had a dinner bell,” Rusty said when she came back inside.

  Renee shrugged. “It beats screaming for everyone to come.”

  The doors along the hallway opened, one after another, and six ranch hands came out, half of them smoothing down their hair as though they’d just gotten up from a nap. Rusty had slept in one of the other rooms last night and the right-end one was empty.

  Rusty helped Renee put the pots of chili and platters of corn bread on the table. The men all took their places and this time Renee asked Pete if he would say grace for the meal.

  The men bowed their heads.

  When the prayer was over, Rusty helped pass bowls of chili around the table. Renee had plates of chopped onions and cheese for those who wanted to add them to their chili.

  Everyone was dished up when Renee spoke.

  “Someone did the breakfast dishes,” she said. �
�And I want to thank them. I appreciate that you give me and Tessie Sunday mornings to sleep in, but I know cold cereal isn’t your favorite. So I want to know who to thank.”

  Rusty looked around at the men. Most of them had spoons full of chili halfway to their mouths.

  “We didn’t have cold cereal,” Pete confessed.

  “You didn’t eat breakfast?” Renee said in surprise. “I know you don’t like the cereal much, but you should eat something.”

  “We had bacon and eggs,” Pete said then. “And pancakes.”

  It was silent for a moment.

  “He made them,” Pete finally said with a jerk of his hand, indicating Rusty.

  Renee turned to him as if he had fed them wild mushrooms. “You cook?”

  “A little,” he said with a shrug. “If there’s a problem with the supplies, I’ll pay for them.”

  “Of course you don’t need to pay,” Renee said, still looking a little dazed. “It’s just that none of the men have ever cooked anything. I could be out there in the cookhouse, sick in bed and running a fever, and they won’t open a can of soup.”

  “Well, we—” Pete began.

  “I’m not saying it’s your job,” Renee interrupted. “I’m only saying I’m surprised Rusty can cook—and is willing to do it. That’s all.”

  Rusty grinned. “I’m good with a barbecue grill, too. Make my own sauce.”

  “Maybe come springtime, we can—” Pete started and then stopped. He bent over his bowl of chili then and started to eat.

  Rusty didn’t respond. Renee didn’t look as if she attached any meaning to the ranch hand’s words, anyway. He was starting to have hope. His home was in Dry Creek. He knew that now. He’d never thought he’d live in this area again. With his family’s ranch gone, he had nowhere to live—until today.

  And then there was Renee. He was drawn to her. There was no doubt about that. He watched her now as she talked with the others at the table. She was kind. Passionate about her daughter. A perfect woman.

  But he didn’t know if they had a future together. He’d never pictured himself marrying. Deep down, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t disappoint her if she married him. As with his mother, he would be always wondering if he didn’t make enough money, didn’t keep his socks well organized enough or didn’t do some fool thing he didn’t even know he was supposed to do. He just didn’t know.

  Chapter Eight

  Renee rolled over in bed and drew the quilts closer to her shoulders. The clock said it was seven o’clock in the morning, but it was still dark outside. Not pitch-black, but the heavy gray darkness let her know before she even looked out the frosted windows that a lot of snow had fallen last night. She was glad her father had phoned and said they thought it best to keep Tessie overnight. The roads might have been blocked if they had tried to bring her back after supper when they had planned.

  Renee knew the trip to Deer Lodge would need to be postponed for a day. The blizzard was supposed to ease up by midmorning and the county crews would be out with their plows the minute the snowflakes stopped. But until then, she had to get dressed and walk over to the bunkhouse so she could make breakfast for the men. They’d be hungry—as always.

  She had to admit that sometimes she found it a relentless job to put three meals on the table every day for the ranch hands, but her work allowed her to keep Tessie with her. The two of them ate with the men, so she didn’t have the extra chore of cooking for her own small family.

  Of course, her dream of having a home of her own was growing stronger.

  If that ever happened, she’d enjoy preparing special meals for her daughter. Sometimes she felt as if there should be another adult at the table when she did so, but no one’s face ever appeared in her mind when she imagined it.

  Renee dressed in a fleece top and her flannel-lined jeans. She tucked her jeans into heavy work boots that came up to her knees. It wasn’t far to the bunkhouse from the main house, but she put on her parka and wrapped two scarves around her—one around her neck and another over her nose like a bandanna. The fuzzy yarn kept her face warm and she could breathe through the loose stitches of the scarf.

  The snow was eight inches deep when she opened the door, but she was prepared. She kicked it away from the door so none would seep into the house if it melted. The night had shed some of its dark while she dressed and she could see a dim light in the main room of the bunkhouse. Someone had turned the lamp on by the sofa.

  She had no sooner stepped off the porch than she heard a whimper next to her. Through the snow she could see Dog was coming to walk beside her. She eyed the animal suspiciously, but he seemed friendly. The farther they walked the more she wondered if he had been waiting for her.

  “Thought I might need some help, did you?” she asked the dog finally.

  Dog gave a soft bark that she chose to think of as agreement. Fortunately, she had some meat scraps in the freezer at the bunkhouse. She’d been saving them for soup, but Dog might as well have them. She’d add some water and heat them up for him while she made breakfast for the men. She might even add a bone or two if she could find them.

  A gust of wind, stronger than the regular force of the blizzard, blew suddenly and loose snow swirled in the air. Renee reached up to pull her scarf higher until all that showed was her eyes.

  By the time she reached the porch of the bunkhouse, she realized she’d been walking with her hand on Dog’s head and he was leading her. It wasn’t that she couldn’t find her way, she assured herself. It was just that all the blowing snow made it difficult. Even the light from the lamp was hidden from view. She figured someone must have turned it off.

  But when Renee opened the door to the bunkhouse, the lamp was giving off the same soft glow as always. At least, she thought so. Snow had fallen on her eyelashes and she couldn’t see inside the room very well. She stood waiting for the snow to melt.

  She didn’t want to wake the ranch hands earlier than necessary on a morning like this, but she did need to light the fireplace. Breakfast would be much more pleasant if everyone’s fingers weren’t stiff and cold.

  After some of the snow had melted, she blinked and looked up, surprised to see Eric and Karyn sitting on the sofa, looking cold and miserable. A well-worn beige duffel bag sat next to Eric. Both teenagers had snow crusted on their boots and damp patches on their coats where frost or snowflakes had no doubt melted. Fortunately, the furniture in the bunkhouse would dry with no ill effects.

  “Did you drive over?” Renee asked the young woman. Usually Karyn’s brothers dropped her off. “I have a spare sweatshirt and jeans in the cook’s quarters that I think would fit you if you want to change. Sitting around in damp clothes isn’t good in this kind of weather.”

  “I’m the one who drove over,” Eric said, his voice clipped. He was clearly upset, sitting there in a tight ball of anger. “Karyn just came with me.”

  The teenager was having a hard time keeping his raw emotion inside.

  Renee wondered for a moment if she had stepped into a goodbye scene. She knew the two of them were too young for marriage, but she hadn’t exactly wanted them to part ways like this, looking so uncomfortable and distressed. Especially not right before Christmas.

  “I could make you both some tea,” she said then, giving them a smile.

  They were both quiet for so long that Renee almost turned away to go to the kitchen.

  “What kind of tea?” Karyn finally asked.

  “Lemon. Cinnamon. Orange spice. Regular and raspberry.” Renee rattled off the choices. A couple of the men drank tea when they had a cold and Renee had a fondness for the brew, too, so she kept a variety of tea bags on hand.

  “I’d like some lemon flavored,” Karyn said as she glanced over at Eric. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “No trouble at all,” Renee said as
she stood by the door and slipped out of her boots. She walked over to the fireplace in her stockinged feet and added a piece of wood to the embers burning there. “I’ll just get this going and then put some water on to boil in the kitchen.”

  The fire flared as it heated up.

  “I could help you with that,” Karyn said as she stood.

  Renee figured the girl was searching for an excuse to leave for a bit and so she nodded.

  A door opened at the end of the hall and Renee wondered which of the ranch hands had gotten up early. They clung to every moment of sleep they could get when it was cold outside, unless, of course, they had cows that were calving or fences that needed emergency fixes. Then they were up at odd hours all night and day.

  Renee walked back to the door and was bending down to put on her boots when she saw someone walk into the room from the hallway. She looked up and saw Rusty.

  The man had on a denim shirt and denim jeans. He looked ready for work even though his arm was still in a sling. He was fresh-shaven and his jet-black hair was neatly combed.

  It was his eyes that drew her, though. He’d glanced around the room as if something was wrong and he needed to identify it before he moved farther into the area. She supposed it was a leftover from his military days, but it made her wonder if he could smell the conflict brewing between the two young people.

  She had only a second to wonder before she knew she was wrong about part of it, at least. The conflict wasn’t between the young people.

  Eric stood up, lifted the beige duffel until it was over his head and then threw it back to the floor. “What business do you have going into the barn out there?”

  He looked enraged enough to spit at his brother, but Rusty didn’t move a muscle to step out of his way.

  “I didn’t think anyone was using the buildings anymore,” Rusty finally said, his voice mild. “Is that where you’ve been staying since you lied to the Morgans and said you had a job someplace?”

  “I do have a job,” Eric protested, sullen now. “Not that it’s—”

  Rusty held up his hand. “I know. It’s none of my business.”