Daisies in the Canyon

by Brown, Carolyn

  When she was in the army, she ran when she felt like this. And after that enormous dinner and then an equally big supper, she should either go for a run or take a long walk, but she wasn’t doing it in a skirt. She went back inside and changed into her comfortable pants and a black turtleneck, put on her heavy jacket, a stocking hat, and gloves. Before she left, she made sure her phone was tucked into the cargo pocket on the side of her leg. She eased out the front door and Martha followed her off the porch and out of the yard.

  Her intentions were to walk all the way to the road, but the moonlight reflected off the granite tombstones and reached out to her, so she opened the creaky little gate and went inside. Starting at the front side were names like Hiram Malloy and his wife, Rachel, both of whom had died in 1865. She touched the stones and wondered if Hiram had been young enough to fight in the Civil War and which side he’d defended.

  These were her ancestors, whether she liked it or not. Their lives had molded and made the next generation right down through time until Ezra’s day. His decision to push her and her mother away had made Abby who she was as well. Her therapist in the army had said she’d probably enlisted to prove she was as good as a son would have been. She touched the tombstone at the head of the mound of wet red dirt. “I was trying to make you understand I was as good as a son. I could and can do anything a boy can do.”

  She perched on Ezra’s tombstone and tucked her hands into her pockets. Somewhere over in the vicinity of Cooper’s ranch, she could hear a lonesome old coyote howling at the sky, telling Mother Nature he was tired of winter and wanted spring to push the cold weather into the history books. The wind rattled the bare limbs of the misshapen scrub oak trees outside the cemetery fence. In a few weeks the trees would be decked out with green leaves and the ranch would take on a whole new look. She was deep in thought about Bonnie’s garden and Shiloh’s roses when she heard the rustling of dead leaves behind her.

  “Coming to grips with it?” Cooper asked from the shadows of a big scrub oak tree.

  She wasn’t sure what to say. There was the man whom she’d told she could fall in love with him not ten feet from her. She remembered the commitment issues she and Shiloh had talked about and it still scared the hell out of her.

  “Maybe. I don’t know if I am or not. It’s easier to accept that these other people were my ancestors than to acknowledge that he was my father. And I was very drunk last night when you called.” She blurted out the last line.

  “There is no doubt about that,” he said.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I went for a walk,” he said. “I should keep going. See you later.”

  “Enjoy your walk.” She wanted him to stay, but then she wanted him to go. That comment about falling for him was between them and she wasn’t sure how to get rid of it.

  “Thanks,” he said stiffly and she heard rustling leaves as he left.

  She sat down on an old wooden bench in the dark shadows of one of the big scrub oak trees on the north side of the cemetery.

  “Why did you keep watch on us, Ezra, if you didn’t want to have us around?” she mumbled. “I can’t figure it out.”

  She glanced at the tombstones closest to her. They were her grandparents somewhere back down the line. “Grandparents!” She slapped her knee. “That’s it.”

  It had come to her in bits and pieces, but when she analyzed the whole thing, she’d figured it out. If any one of them had given birth to a son, that child would have inherited Malloy Ranch. He’d kept a watch on his three daughters to see who was the smartest, who worked the hardest, and who wound up with the best man.

  The pieces fit together like a jigsaw puzzle.

  If his daughters all had sons born the same month or the same year, he would have had to choose among them. What if the oldest son was a lazy shit who wouldn’t work or the youngest one got picked up for selling drugs on the street corner? Or what if one son was illegitimate and the other two had fathers but one of the fathers was a rancher and the other one was an airplane pilot?

  Ezra would have chosen the best one to inherit his ranch and money through what he’d learned about his daughters. Abby thought it sad that he’d missed so much with his own daughters, only to die knowing that he didn’t have a grandson to leave his ranch to after all.

  She didn’t realize how long she’d sat there until the north wind had started to blow hard enough to push its way through the bare tree limbs. She shivered and pulled her hat a little tighter. Time to head back to the house.

  Leaves crunched again to signal Cooper’s approach. He sat down on the bench beside her.

  “You are still here?” he asked.

  “I didn’t mean to be, but I figured out something important.” She told him about the grandson idea.

  “You could be right. Ezra was a cagey old fellow,” Cooper said. “Now about what you said on the phone.”

  “I was drunk,” she whispered.

  “I know that, so let’s delete it just like we do things on the computer,” he said.

  “Is that possible once it’s been said?”

  He slid over closer and put his arm around her, drawing her close to his side. “We did it with sex, didn’t we?”

  She laid her head on his shoulder and it wasn’t awkward. “Okay, then, hit the ‘Delete’ button.”

  “I know you aren’t growing roots, yet, Abby. But you will if you stay until spring. One day you will wake up and wonder where your wings went.”

  “I’m beginning to hope you are right, Cooper, but I’m not taking that to the bank. Not yet.” She thought about leaving and suddenly there was a hole in her heart. In the next instant she let the idea of roots and staying take precedence and everything felt right in the world. But right then she was in Cooper’s arms and that could influence her decision a lot.

  “You don’t have to. Just tell me when it happens.”

  She nodded. “I promise.”

  “That’s good enough for this day,” he said.

  His black cowboy hat was pulled down low enough on his brow that she couldn’t see his eyes, but she could feel him looking at her.

  “Thanks, Cooper. I might not be the woman I am today if Ezra had accepted me as a daughter, so I’m trying to think about that and not hold on to the bitterness.”

  Cooper squeezed her hand. “Ezra wasn’t all bad, Abby. His mother died when he was a little kid. I don’t know if it was in childbirth or if it happened when he was a toddler, but he wasn’t very old. His father raised him right here on the ranch without any women around, not even a cook or housekeeper. Your mother was the first woman in fifty years to live on this ranch.”

  “How did you know all that?”

  “He told me bits and pieces through the years,” Cooper answered.

  “He got his comeuppance in the end, didn’t he? All that work and money he had to have paid out and still no satisfaction. Now his three daughters are living together and we really don’t hate each other, which is what he wanted us to do. I pity a man like Ezra who couldn’t move past a woman who broke his heart and love one of the three women he married.”

  “Knowing Ezra, he would rather have your hate than pity.”

  “It is what it is. Today it’s pity. I wonder what these other folks saw in this canyon. It doesn’t have a lot to recommend it.”

  “It’s home,” he said.

  “I guess it is at that.”

  He tucked a fist under her chin and lowered his face to hers. Their cold lips met in a kiss right there in the cemetery under a scrub oak tree that had shaded part of the cemetery for years.

  Crazy, insane thoughts chased through her mind. No one should think about fertilizer when a handsome, sexy cowboy was kissing her. But that’s exactly what came to Abby’s mind. With each kiss, each touch, and every glance, it was as if she really was putting down roots in the
canyon. Perhaps that meant everything he did was like the root stimulator her mother used on the petunias in the flower boxes at the café. If so, maybe growing roots wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

  Several long, lingering kisses later, he pulled away. They were both panting by now and she forgot about anything but the ache down deep that wanted so much more than kisses.

  He gripped her hand in his and led her out of the cemetery. “I’m walking you home now, Abby.”

  “And then I’ll drive you home,” she said.

  “I can hop the fence and be there in a few minutes. Besides, as hot as I am right now, I need the cooldown time,” he said.

  “I know,” she whispered.

  Had she really been making out like a teenager? And in the cemetery? A slow burn started at the base of her neck and crept around to her cheeks.

  Keeping her hand tight in his, he walked her right up to the door, with Martha tagging along behind them. He kissed her and whispered, “Good night, Abby. Thank you for taking care of the cattle, the bull, and the fence. And please make Chinese food on one of your days to cook this week.”

  “It’s a promise,” she whispered.

  He let go of her hand and she felt empty, as if someone had torn all her new little roots out of the ground. She wanted to reach out and tell him to come inside with her, even if only for a cup of coffee, so she could reclaim the feeling, but he was jogging toward the barn. She watched until he was completely out of sight before she went inside.

  Martha rushed in ahead of her and curled up in front of the fireplace with Vivien and Polly.

  “Where have you been?” Bonnie looked up from the sofa.

  “The cemetery.”

  Shiloh picked up the remote and put the television on mute. “Was that Cooper on the porch with you?”

  Abby dragged one of the wooden rocking chairs across the floor so it was close enough she could prop her boots on the coffee table and then sat down. But she was far too antsy to prop her feet. She set the chair into motion with her foot. The constant movement rested her frazzled nerves a little bit. “It was Cooper, and I figured out something about those boxes under our beds while I was at the cemetery.”

  “I’d rather hear about Cooper and if he kisses good. Cemeteries give me the creeps,” Bonnie said.

  “What’d you figure out?” Shiloh asked.

  Abby told them her theory about why Ezra had kept such close tabs on them.

  “Wow!” Shiloh whispered.

  “The old shit! If it had been me who’d had a son, he wouldn’t have even looked at my boy,” Bonnie said.

  “What makes you think that?” Abby asked.

  “Because he would have liked me the least.”

  Shiloh shook her head. “I don’t think so. He would have been proud of you, Bonnie. You know more about ranchin’ than either of us and he would have respected that.”

  “And you are a lady, so he would have liked you,” Abby told Shiloh.

  “And you are so smart, Shiloh.”

  “But you, Abby, you are the one who showed him that a woman can be anything she wants, including a soldier. No, Bonnie, I think in his own way, he was probably proud of all of us. Not that he would ever admit it,” Shiloh said.

  “Maybe so, but it’s damn sad that he gave up knowing us and waited for a grandson that never came along,” Abby said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cooper hadn’t shown up for dinner either Monday or Tuesday. At first Abby was antsy, but by Wednesday she was bitchy. Just when she thought she was putting a couple of roots down, Madam Fate created a virtual tornado that tore everything up. She was glad she was cooking that day so she could be alone. Neither Shiloh or Bonnie needed to have to deal with her bad mood.

  Damn that sheriff business that kept him at the courthouse both days and today he had a prisoner escort from Silverton to Lubbock. It was less than a hundred miles, but it would take all morning and part of the afternoon by the time the paperwork was done.

  Abby and her sisters had set up a pattern that first week. The living room and dusting belonged to Shiloh on Monday. Cleaning the kitchen and utility room was Bonnie’s job on Tuesday and the bathrooms were Abby’s on Wednesday.

  With all her jobs completed, and an hour left before the rest of the crew came home for dinner, she was bored. She’d called Haley earlier but she was in class all day. Both her sisters were repairing the corral so they could bring up the cattle next week to be vaccinated and tagged. After dinner she’d be out there with them, slinging a hammer and tearing away rotted boards, learning still another ranchin’ job. She only hoped her mood softened by then.

  She heard the crunch of tires coming up the lane and looked at the clock. No, it was still at least forty-five minutes until dinnertime. When Martha barked, Abby jumped. Usually all three dogs went with whoever was going out on the ranch. It didn’t matter if they were fixing fence, plowing, drilling wheat, or feeding in the morning and the evening, the dogs were there.

  Surely those Bible-toting folks didn’t come all the way into the canyon looking for lost souls. She flung open the door just as Nona raised a hand to knock on it. Nona’s bright smile put a little light in the dark mood she’d been toting around all morning.

  “Hi, Abby. I hope you meant it when you invited me to drop by.”

  “Yes, of course we meant it. Please come in.” Abby motioned her inside the house. “Would you like a glass of sweet tea or a beer?”

  “Tea would be nice.” Nona followed her into the kitchen. “Something smells good in here. Are you the cook?”

  “Today I am. We take turns cooking. I’d rather be outside.” She filled two glasses with ice and sweet tea. “It’s chicken and rice. Can you stay for dinner? There’s always plenty.”

  “I’d love to. What can I do to help?” Nona picked up the tea and downed a third of it before coming up for air. “Our cook is taking the morning off to go grocery shopping. Travis took a sandwich with him to the fields so he didn’t have to stop plowing today. And I can’t cook worth a damn, so I’d love to eat with y’all.”

  “Your mother mentioned that you just got married recently,” Abby said.

  “Only three weeks ago. I should have come over and welcomed all y’all to the canyon before now, but things have been crazy on Lonesome Canyon. Learning so much all at once sometimes overwhelms me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Abby nodded. “I can understand that. I’m trying to learn how to be a rancher and it’s not easy.”

  “Can I be of some use and set the table?”

  Abby pointed. “Plates are there. Silverware is in the drawer beside the sink. Five today. Cooper’s on his way to Lubbock with a prisoner transport, though he usually stops by. His bachelor cooking isn’t as good as ours.”

  “Rumor has it that he’s interested in you,” Nona said.

  Abby shrugged. “He hasn’t been here for three days and I’ve got to admit it’s made me pretty cranky.”

  “I hear you. When Travis and I had to be apart, I don’t think Jesus could have lived with me.”

  Abby giggled. “That’s where I was this morning. Angels would have given me a one-way ticket to Hades to get rid of me.”

  “Cooper is a good, decent man. I had a terrible crush on him when I was sixteen, but there was no way Daddy would allow me to date a man nine years older than me, even if Cooper had been interested. I threw a hissy worse than any Mama ever pitched because he wouldn’t let me invite Cooper to the Fourth of July picnic as my date.”

  “My mama wouldn’t have allowed it either.” The way Nona made herself at home made Abby feel as if she’d known her for years rather than such a short while. While she didn’t feel the same bond she had with her sisters, she could still see Nona being a good friend.

  Nona peeled off five paper towels and folded them. “This okay for napkins?”


  “Yes, that’s fine,” Abby said and then changed the subject. “Did you know Ezra well?”

  “As much as you know any neighbor, I suppose. He was rough as sandpaper, and so was his voice. You could tell he was a heavy smoker. I liked him, but Mama says he lived by the old books. Women had their place and men had theirs, and the two didn’t mix. He’d be turnin’ over in his grave if he knew his daughters were out there plowin’ and fixin’ fence. And he’d come up out of the grave if he ever caught you castratin’ bulls come springtime. Women were supposed to cook and clean and obey their husbands. But somehow, I still think he’d be proud of all y’all for your independence and your willingness to learn how to run a ranch. Truth is, though, I bet he didn’t think any of you would stick around even this long.”

  “Do you do that same work on your ranch?” Abby asked.

  “Hell, yes! I’m a rancher, not a prissy princess. I never was too good at that obeying shit.”

  Thinking of Ezra spinning around in his grave because she and her two sisters were working cattle put a smile on Abby’s face. That would teach him to leave the ranch to his daughters.

  “I’m an only child, too,” Abby said.

  “But you have two sisters.”

  Abby refilled Nona’s tea glass. “I’ll rephrase. I was raised as an only child. And so were Shiloh and Bonnie. We had no idea we had siblings until the lawyer called us about Ezra’s death and told us about his will.”

  Nona finished setting the table and leaned on the bar. “Bet that was a shocker. It’s not a whole lot of fun being the only child, is it? I wish Mama would have had twins when I was two years old instead of twenty-two. So where did you grow up?”

  “In Galveston.” Abby was amazed at how easy it was to talk to Nona. Maybe it was because she was so open and honest. Whatever she was thinking sure had a way of coming out of her mouth and showing on her face. She reminded Abby of Haley, with her soft southern twang and openness.