A Cowboy Is Forever

by Shirley Larson

  Nick shied away, like a horse with malice on its mind, but he gave Luke a token smile. “How long is not very long?”

  He opened his mouth to say, Two weeks, three, tops. But a picture of Charlotte flashed in his mind, black hair blowing, her warm touch. His years of training as a lawyer kicked in, and he decided he’d better not lock himself in to a definite early departure date. “It’s just what I said. Not long.”

  Nick growled and headed off for the barn. Luke swung toward the house, wondering if he’d lost the good sense it had taken him so many years to gain. He couldn’t help Charlotte. He had no influence with his father. There was nothing he could do. Unless…he could do a little quiet investigating himself. He was supposed to be good at that. He could ask a few questions, nose around a bit. Asking questions wouldn’t involve him in anything.

  “Athena, you’re going to get in big trouble, sneaking over to the enemy with provisions.”

  Charlotte shook her head and tried to look stern, but the sight of Athena’s familiar broad figure in the doorway, with that wonderful wicker basket covered with a gleaming white towel, made Charlotte’s heart leap—and her mouth water. “What if Henry Steadman finds out you’re purveying food to the enemy?”

  “Pooh,” said Athena, shaking her head. Her skin gleamed a wonderful caramel color. She was, according to her own reckoning, part Native American, part Irish and part fox. “If it was his food, which it isn’t, it would do his immortal soul good to show a little charity.”

  Charlotte flashed a look at the kitchen clock—a cat with a wagging tail. It was just after ten in the morning. She should be out checking Lady Luck, overseeing Tex’s fencefixing where Princess had broken through, cutting hay, paying bills. She definitely should not sit down at the kitchen table and enjoy herself. There wasn’t time.

  “If you have a moment, I’ll brew a cup of tea.”

  Athena’s wise eyes darkened, as if she knew exactly what Charlotte’s thoughts and worries were, but her face was as cool as river water as she sat down at the table and loosened her shawl around her shoulders.

  “How’s Mrs. Lettie doing this morning?” Athena inquired.

  “I just checked on her about a half hour ago. I knew Tex wouldn’t be in a good mood this morning when he left his wife, knowing he had to fix fence. She’s soaking her hands in warm water again. As soon as I get out from under this trouble with Henry and I can get my cattle sold, Tex will have the money he needs for the carpal-tunnel operation. But in the meantime, it’s really killing her that she can’t quilt. She’s not a reader, and she hates television.”

  “She don’t like setting around with nothing to do any more than I do, I suspect. What she needs is some young ones to grandmother.”

  “That will be rather difficult, since she and Tex don’t have children.”

  “They have you.”

  “Which is no help at all.”

  “Nothing stopping you from getting married and having babies.”

  A wry smile on her mouth, Charlotte glanced up at the clock. “You’re setting new records, Athena. You’ve only been in the house one minute and thirty seconds. You used to wait for at least fifteen minutes until you brought up the subject of my marital status.”

  “I’m not getting any younger. I want a turn at your children myself.”

  “I’m beginning to wonder if there’ll ever be any children.”

  “Pshaw! Of course there will, and soon, too, if you are as smart as I think you are.”

  “First of all, I don’t see any men beating down the door for the chance to be my children’s daddy. And secondly, I can’t do anything until I get Henry Steadman off my neck.”

  “Ain’t no men around here, that’s true enough. But if you get yourself fixed up and go to that dance in town next Saturday night, you might at least put a man in your sight of vision.”

  Charlotte grinned. “Oh, there’s an exciting list of prospects. Who would it be? Tim, the computer genius, who doesn’t ever say a thing I can understand? Or Marris Hollis, who has the Chevy with the front seat rigged to collapse ‘accidentally’ into a bed and has tried to get every woman in Madison county into it?”

  “Mr. Luke single now.”

  “For all I know, he’s got the seat rigged in that fancy car of his to make a bed.”

  “Not Mr. Luke,” Athena said staunchly.

  Charlotte turned away from Athena to pick up the old white enamel teapot her mother had used to have tea parties with her daughter, feeling a little ashamed of herself for being flip at Luke’s expense. Athena was right. Luke wasn’t desperate like that. He didn’t have to be. Women would gravitate to him like lemmings to the sea. “Oh, there’s a fine solution to all our problems. Marry Luke and make Henry Steadman my father-in-law.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first to marry to stop a war. Used to do it in Europe all the time, before love came into fashion.”

  “Don’t you believe in love, Athena?”

  “In its time and place.”

  Charlotte’s lips twitched. “I didn’t know whether to expect you over this morning or not.” Carefully keeping her face away from Athena’s, she filled the teapot, giving all her attention to placing it on the burner and turning on the stove before she turned around to Athena again.

  “If you’re asking whether or not Mr. Luke stayed for breakfast, he did. It wasn’t a happy breakfast, even though I made his favorite pecan pancakes and brewed up my best coffee.” Athena’s eyes were shrewd as they traveled over Charlotte’s face. She hadn’t said much, but she’d said enough to let Charlotte know what kind of a reception Luke had gotten.

  “Sometimes I’m not sure whether I get more angry at Henry Steadman for being so vindictive to me, or for being so stupid about Luke. I just wish Henry would wake up and see what a wonderful son he has,” Charlotte said, her cheeks flushing.

  “You know Mr. Henry.”

  “Yes, I know him. The great man took one look at his firstborn and fell in love. People were a bit skeptical about Henry’s illegitimate son, so Henry became his fiercest protector and defender. He’s bound and determined to make a saint out of Nick. I’d say he’s got his work cut out for him.” Charlotte smiled at her own attempt at a joke.

  “He got heavy going there, but Mr. Henry don’t give up easy.”

  “Isn’t that the truth! He’s a Steadman.” Charlotte smiled at her friend and said, “Nick still holding fast to his policy of reducing your hours?”

  “Mr. Nick a little dumb about how much time it takes to clean house. He’ll get smarter after he climbs into his dirty bed a few more weeks.”

  “How do you do it, Athena? How do you keep such a broad-minded outlook on…everything?”

  Athena’s dark eyes fastened on Charlotte’s. “Way I see it, everybody just doing the best they can with what they got. Some of us have got more to do with than others have. I don’t mean things,” Athena added. “I mean stuff inside their heads, like compassion and intelligence and willingness to suffer a little for somebody else. Mr. Luke, he come out of his cradle with all those things and more. Hard for other men not to hate Mr. Luke. Even his own father jealous of him.”

  “Is that what it is?”

  “That, and a lot of other things. Mr. Luke will be all right, in spite of Mr. Henry. And so will you.”

  Athena’s calm assurance brought a rush of emotion so strong that tears welled in Charlotte’s eyes. To cover her reaction, she jumped up and snatched the teakettle, bending her head to let her hair fall forward over her cheek, going about the business of pouring water and dunking in the herbal-tea bags she and Athena liked.

  Athena didn’t say a word, and the cat’s tail swished in the silence. A little more composed, Charlotte brought the steaming cups to the table.

  With that economy of movement big women have, Athena reached for the basket and removed a plate covered with a snowy white tea towel. The smell of warm honeylemon muffins made Charlotte’s mouth water. Athena offered the plate to Charlott
e.

  “You realize where those will go—right to my hips.”

  Athena made a noise that was pure scoff. “You’re going to blow away one of these days if you don’t put some meat on your bones. Montana norther will sweep you up and shoot you right down to Wyoming.”

  “I don’t think so,” Charlotte said, reaching for the muffin and breaking it open on her plate. She closed her eyes and drank in the aroma of honey and lemon. “Athena,” she said, lifting her teacup and looking into Athena’s eyes over it, “give me an infusion of your strength and wisdom.”

  Athena raised her head, a beautiful smile on her face. “You know what my sister say. She say even chinchillas got to have company. She had one once that was so lonesome he started to eat his toes.”

  Charlotte laughed. “I don’t see me doing that.”

  “My sister couldn’t stand him being so lonesome. So she got him another one for company. Next thing she know, she had three chinchillas. That’s how things happen. For you, too.” She stretched out a hand to Charlotte. Charlotte laid her smaller hand in Athena’s, almost—almost—believing her. “Especially if you go to that dance Saturday night.” Athena’s eyes gleamed with humor.

  “Athena, you are an incurable schemer. And you’ve wasted all your energy. I’ve already told Margaret Murchison that I’d bring the punch and help with the refreshments.”

  “Did you?” Athena said, and smiled her wise smile.

  The sun was high in the sky, friendly today, beaming down on the Montana plains as if it had never heard of a polar-cap wind. The sun was saying, This is a glorious Sunday morning in spring. A year ago at this time, Luke would have been dressed to the gills and heading for the cavernous church, where Elisa insisted they go to see and be seen. He much preferred wearing his black-and-red flannel shirt and soft jeans and being mounted on Prince’s back, riding across the pasture that abutted Charlotte’s land.

  He was still a good distance away from the border fence between Steadman and Malone land when he heard Tex talking to a fence post in extremely colorful language. Tex had the barbed-wire pullers clamped on the post, but the post was wobbling. Tex should have set a new post before he started to fix the fence, and Luke had a feeling that Tex knew it.

  The sun warmed his back as Luke rode up from his side of the fence, and the saddle creaked as he dismounted. A rake of those faded blue eyes from under a veteran hat bound by a well-used sweatband and a low grumble that sounded suspiciously like “Damned city kid” was Luke’s greeting.

  “Want some help?”

  “Hell, no,” Tex growled. “I like coming out here and getting my hands tore apart on fence your pappy is supposed to be keeping up. Makes me as happy as a snake stretched out on a rock in the summertime.”

  “Got any gloves?” Luke asked, very, very carefully.

  “Sure I got gloves. Who the hell can do anything with gloves on? Next you’ll be asking me if I got a steel post to shore up this rotten wooden one. Well, I don’t. If I did, I’d sure as hell be using it, wouldn’t I?”

  “How about if I ride back and get one for you?”

  That got a reaction. Tex looked up, snatched off his hat and wiped his face with the bandanna that perpetually hung out of his back pocket. “Well, it’d be one miracle in a goshdarn empty row, I’ll say that. The first time I ever got any help from the other side of this fence.”

  Without a word, Luke reined Prince around and galloped him back over the field.

  When Luke returned, there was Tex, sitting in the bed of the old green truck Charlotte had been driving yesterday, a red thermos lifted to his lips.

  Feeling his lack of practice, Luke tossed the iron fence post to the ground and dismounted. He gave his shirt a tug, loosened the snaps and pulled it off. His pale city skin earned a grunt of disapproval from Tex. Luke ignored it and pulled on gloves he’d snatched up. “Hand me that sledgehammer, would you?”

  Tex looked as if he’d like to say a thing or two about loaning the enemy his tools, but he clamped his lips tight and did as Luke asked. He even put himself out enough to hold the fence post steady.

  Luke lifted the sledgehammer, felt the pull in his shoulder muscles. Darn thing was heavy, all ten pounds of it. He hoisted it up and drove it home on the top of the post, making sure he didn’t slip and hit Tex. His shoulders felt the exertion. He’d worked out in the gym for a while when he first moved to New York, but keeping fit had vanished from his life, the way everything else he enjoyed had, when his job and marriage consumed his life.

  “Ain’t forgot how to work, then, have ya?” Tex said with grudging admiration, as Luke hammered the post the final two hits that brought it level with the wooden one.

  That was as close to a thank-you as he would get from Tex. “Some things you don’t forget,” he said easily.

  “No, I don’t reckon you do.” Tex unbent enough to pull the two posts of wood and steel together while Luke wrapped the bare wire around the two to make them both more solid.

  Luke stepped away and took a swipe at the sweat on his brow.

  “Your daddy know you’re out here helping me?”

  Challenge gleamed in Tex’s eyes, challenge that made Luke weary—and wary. “Good fences make good neighbors.”

  Tex snorted. “Who said that?”

  “Robert Frost, I think.”

  “He never had your daddy for a neighbor. Take more fence than there is in the world to make your daddy a good neighbor to the offspring of Sean Malone.”

  Luke gazed out at his father’s ranch, green pasture bursting with spring fertility under a crystal expanse of sky, red cattle dotting the hillside. “I often wonder if Henry was as crazy in love with Maureen as they said, or whether he just hated losing her to Malone. Do you remember much about it?”

  “Don’t remember nothing.” Almost without pausing for a breath, Tex added, “I got a thermos of coffee in the truck cab. You want some?” Without waiting for Luke’s answer, Tex trotted toward the truck. Wondering whether everybody around here was as confused as he was about who was on whose side, Luke used his shirt to wipe his face.

  Tex had unearthed a second mug from somewhere—Luke preferred not to think where—and walked toward him with coffee steaming from two cups. Luke took one, thinking no coffee in the world had the deep, dark aroma of a cup savored out in the open.

  “Careful, it’s hot,” Tex warned him.

  “I’ll be careful,” he said. He wondered whether Charlotte had made the coffee. Then he remembered that Tex had a wife. “How is Lettie?”

  “Not so good. She’s got something wrong with her hands. Carpal-tunnel something-or-other, doc says. Too damn much quilting, I say.”

  “Does she need that operation they do for it?”

  “That’s what the doc says. And she’ll have it, soon’s Charlotte can settle with your daddy.” Tex sipped his coffee with a total air of unconcern, as if he hadn’t just made Luke’s father the complete villain.

  “It’s a crazy business, isn’t it? I don’t understand it.”

  “How you gonna understand anything? You been in the city too long, got your brains scrambled.”

  Luke suppressed a smiled. “Have you seen anything suspicious on the range?”

  “No, I ain’t seen anything suspicious on the range,” Tex snapped, with a ferocity that made Luke think that just maybe he had. “I got my opinions, but Charlotte says opinions don’t count for nothing, we got to have proof.” Tex squinted up at the sun, as if checking on its presence in the sky. Then he looked back at Luke, with that same let’ssee-what-kind-of-stuff-you’re-made-of gleam in his eye. “You pitching for the home team?”

  It took Luke a minute to decipher his meaning. Was he working for his father?

  “I was hoping to fill the slot of umpire.”

  “Umph. You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

  “What do you think I should do?”

  Tex squinted across the pasture to the hollow where Henry’s buildings lay. “Maybe y
ou better do like I do. Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut until you can catch the ornery low-down no-good critter in the act of stealing meat off his neighbor’s table.”

  “You think it’s a neighbor?” Luke asked, one eyebrow raised.

  “Got to be somebody who knows all about the bad blood between your daddy and Charlotte’s pappa,” Tex said.

  “And somebody who’s got easy access to both ranches,” Luke added, his mind going back to the way Nick had shied away from his touch.

  Tex muttered an expletive, emptied his coffee cup onto the ground, grabbed the mug out of Luke’s hand, turned his head and spit. “The air’s turned real bad around here.”

  Startled, Luke came out of his thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

  “You with all your fancy lawyer techniques, I suppose you came out here, all friendly-like, to question me, ‘cause you think I got a reason and I’m real close by here.”

  “You mean motive and opportunity. Yes, I guess you’ve got that.” The idea of Tex stealing cattle seemed so ridiculous to Luke that he smiled.

  “Think it’s funny, do you? Well, it ain’t. Try being accused of stealing once and see how you like it.”

  Luke had, and he didn’t. “Tex, I wasn’t suggesting you’re the thief. It takes a special kind of mentality to—”

  “Oh, so now you’re telling me I ain’t smart enough to steal no cattle.”

  “Tex, I’m sure you’re smart enough to do anything you want to do—”

  “So you do think I did it.”

  “No, of course not—” Exasperated and annoyed with himself for upsetting Tex, Luke could only watch as Tex stomped around to the front of the truck, opened the door and threw both plastic mugs in, so hard they banged against each other. Luke heard Tex muttering something about a dirty snake and damned if he knew how folks could come back from the city and think they knew every damned thing in the world, and then the truck motor roared, and after a tire spin, he took off.