by Diana Palmer
She laughed with him, because both of them were what people called “string beans”: tall and thin. Releasing his hand, she dug into her pocket. “Here’s something for Millie, your wife.” She pressed the cash, a hundred dollars, into his hand. Henry opened his mouth to protest.
“Nope,” Maud said firmly, “take it. Go take Millie out for a nice dinner or something.”
Henry shook his head, looking at the wad of cash. “You’re kind, Maud. Just like your parents. Thank you. I’ll do that. Millie says thank you, too.”
She hugged him fiercely. “I’ll be seeing you later. I want to come down and catch up on how everyone is in your huge family.”
Glowing, Henry stepped back and tipped his hat. “I’d like that a lot, Miss Maud. Now, skedaddle! Your parents were excited that you were coming for a visit.”
Steve entered, shook Henry’s hand warmly, thanking him for his genuine and sincere welcome. He walked Maud to the elevator, following her in. Taking off his hat, he pushed his fingers through his hat hair that always got squashed beneath the Stetson. Maud turned, quickly pushing some strands here and there off his brow after the doors shut.
“You look fine,” she said, as the elevator sped upward.
“So do you,” he said, and he leaned over, hooking his arm around her waist and gently drawing her against him, his mouth closing over her smiling lips. The kiss had to be quick because the elevator didn’t wait for anyone. In no time, the doors opened directly into the penthouse apartment.
Maud relished the supportive kiss Steve gave her. He always seemed to sense when she needed his strength or his quiet, calm demeanor. Not much of anything ever flustered him. In the two years they had been together, she never saw him get overly dramatic or wigged out on some issue or event. “I love you,” she whispered, giving him a quick peck on the cheek as she moved away from him and stepped onto the white marble floor, which was variegated with pink and mostly black spidery lines where fractures had occurred.
“Maud!”
She saw her mother, Martha, come hurrying toward her. To say that Martha was a fashion plate was an understatement. She wore Coco Chanel suits when working, which she felt was the epitome of a conservative businesswoman, but now she wore low white leather heels with her pink linen suit and a white silk blouse with ruffles around her neck.
“Hey, Mom,” Maud said, smiling and opening her arms. Martha was five feet ten inches tall, a model’s body and beautiful. Maud was the height of her father, James, who was five feet eight inches tall.
Her mother’s arms enclosed her, and she smelled the faint scent of Chanel No. 5 perfume around her. Martha loved Chanel, but it hadn’t rubbed off on her daughter, however. She made a quick hug, kissed Maud’s cheeks, and held her at arm’s length.
“It’s wonderful to see you!” She released her and went over to Steve, offering her manicured hand to him, shaking it with warmth and sincerity. “So nice to see you, Steve!” She laughed a bit. “Ever the cowboy in New York City. Right?”
Steve held his hat in his left hand. “Yes, ma’am. Spots don’t change on a leopard.”
Tittering, she placed an arm around their waists, drawing them forward. “James is in the dining room. Selene is putting the final touches for a lunch for the four of us.”
Maud smiled as they walked through the five thousand square foot mausoleum, as she called it. The furniture was the best money could buy. There were handwoven silk rugs, tasteful and colorful, here and there. “Henry said you arrived an hour ago. Are you unpacked?”
“Heaven’s no!” Martha laughed. She led them to the huge dining room. It had a pale peach rug beneath a long teak-colored wooden table that would easily seat twelve people. Her parents threw dinner parties twice a month and the rich and famous were always invited. Above the center of the table was a huge, glittery crystal chandelier. “We’ll worry about that later. James! They’ve arrived!”
James was standing by the chair at the end of the table. Maud liked that her dad dressed down when he could. He preferred Izod, more in keeping with a yachtsman kind of clothing. Her father’s blue eyes crinkled with happiness and he stepped toward them. She liked his short black hair, and the Izod white polo shirt he wore with a pair of white pants and deck shoes. “Maud!”
His welcome was warm, followed by a huge bear hug. She melted in her quiet, introverted father’s embrace. He smelled of Old Spice aftershave lotion, something she loved to inhale and always associated with him. He shaved twice a day because his black bristles grew fast. He bussed her cheek and held her at arm’s length. “We’re so glad to see you.” He released her and then turned, shaking Steve’s hand. “Welcome back, Steve.”
“Thank you, sir. Nice to see you again, too.”
Martha gasped, her eyes rounding. “Maud!” She grabbed her daughter’s left hand, staring at the diamond flashing on it. “You’re engaged?!” she said, and she stared down at her. “Really?”
Steve came to Maud’s side. “I thought it was time to ask her to marry me, Mrs. Campbell.”
Martha stared at it, gasping. “Oh, this is so beautiful, Maud! Do you like it?” James came over, admiring the ring, too.
“I love the guy who gave it to me,” Maud said, her voice low with feeling. She was sure her mother probably thought the solitaire was too small for her. Martha, when she dolled up, wore glamorous, flashy jewelry. Maud didn’t like wearing any jewelry, but then, her father tended to wear not even a watch, unless he had to. She was sure her fashion sense was her father’s genes, not her mother’s.
“A great answer,” James said. He beamed. “Congratulations, Sweet Pea,” he said, and he kissed his daughter’s brow. He moved to Steve, pumping his hand. “We always thought that you two would someday get married.”
Martha sighed and gave Maud a watery look. “I think you make a beautiful couple.” And then she looked over at Steve. “I think you know how special Maud is to us.”
“I believe I do, ma’am.”
“Come on, let’s eat,” James said, and gestured for them to come and sit down.
Selene had prepared a simple lunch of salad with thin slices of beef and a vinaigrette on the side. She smiled warmly, pulling their chairs away from the table for the four of them.
Steve thanked her and seated Maud and then he sat opposite her, near James’s left elbow. Martha sat with her daughter, her eyes shining with excitement over the discovery her daughter was now engaged.
As they ate lunch, Maud noticed the questions she was asking of Steve and herself. Like his parents, they were surprised that there would be a four-year wait until after they graduated with their master’s degrees.
“You know,” James said, giving a sage look toward Steve, “I’ve often thought if couples would marry around twenty-eight or so, the marriage would have a better chance of success. You see these girls at eighteen getting out of high school and marrying right away.”
“Because our society wants it that way,” Martha growled, her thin brows dipping. “We didn’t get married until we were twenty-seven, James.”
“Well, I’m glad to see Maud and Steve following the same pattern. Of course, I realize not every marriage is made in heaven, but Martha and I were longtime friends before we married. We shared similar interests.”
“I don’t see Steve as an architect globetrotting and Maud like an anchor running a cattle ranch,” she said, slight distaste in her tone.
“You and Dad need to come out and meet Steve’s parents, Sam and Lydia,” Maud coaxed. “You’ve always valued hard work and you won’t find two more hardworking people than them.”
Lifting her hand, she patted her daughter’s shoulder. “But just think, Maud. After graduation you could come and live in New York City. You have a job waiting for you worth millions of dollars. And you’ll have an MBA and will catch on quickly to handling my company.”
Squirming uncomfortably inwardly, Maud continued to slowly eat the salad. “Remember how I always loved going out into Central Pa
rk? That I was always happiest out in the woods, near the pond and lying on the grass?”
“That’s true,” Martha murmured, sipping her white wine. “You’ve always been a nature child, Maud.”
“She got that from me,” James said, winking at Maud. “I love golf. I love being outdoors in the sun and fresh air.”
“Yes, and you own four golf resorts within a two-hour drive from the city,” Martha reminded him tartly.
“I don’t like golf, Mom.”
“No, you never did, that’s true. I think trees and ponds run in your veins, instead.”
Everyone chuckled.
“We’ve been talking about how to split our summer vacation between the two families,” Steve told them. “We know how busy you are, and you do a lot of traveling. Maud and I thought if we stayed no more than a month here with you, that we’d take the month and a half out at my parents’ ranch.”
Martha was pleased. “I’m so happy to hear this! I was whining to James the other day that for the last two years, Maud, you’ve spent it entirely in Wyoming.”
Reaching out, Maud squeezed her mother’s hand. “I just needed that green space, Mom. It had nothing to do with us not wanting to be with you, because we did.”
Steve saw that Martha was mollified by Maud’s soft explanation. The mother was trying so hard not to put her own wishes and dreams on her footloose and fancy-free daughter. Maud was untamable, and he’d known that from the first. She was just as headstrong as her super-successful mother was. And he could see Martha doted upon Maud. He was proud of Maud for being sensitive and caring toward her struggling mother. There was nothing but love in their expressions for each other. Despite all their wealth, this family understood what was really important and it was something money could never buy—a loving family. He and Maud were very, very lucky in that regard, to have two such sets of parents who loved their child enough to allow them to be who they were. Not stamp the child in the guise of the parents.
Martha leaned over, kissing Maud’s cheek. “You’ve shared some ideas over the last year with us about Wind River Valley. We think your ideas, the growing business plan you’re developing, will really work.”
“Really?”
James nodded, finishing off a warm homemade biscuit slathered with butter. “Really. You’re just like your mother, Sweet Pea. Your business plan, as you’re developing it, is grounded in practical economics. Your plans are modest, but straightforward. You’ve provided jobs for at least a hundred people in the valley, from what I can tell so far.”
“Lincoln County is one of the poorest, economically speaking, in Wyoming,” Maud said. “The biggest issue is that it’s a hundred-mile drive from the border to Jackson Hole, the Tetons park ten miles outside of it, and another forty miles is Yellowstone. No one stops in Wind River Valley except, maybe, to gas up and take off for the north.”
Martha looked confused. “Steve? You said you had a family ranch?”
“Yes, we do.”
“The pictures you sent to us showed buffalo in some corrals.”
“We have a herd of them.”
“I didn’t see any cows.”
“Only during the summer.”
She frowned. “What do you mean, only in the summer?”
Maud said, “They lease grass pastures to other ranchers across the West who want to fatten up their cattle.”
“Cattle don’t survive our winters,” Steve explained. “They die of exposure. It’s too cold for them, so we have a small herd of Herefords we do keep at the ranch, but only a dozen or so.”
“And buffalo do survive?” James surmised.
“Yes, they have really thick coats and have lived in the Plains states for hundreds of thousands of years. If you put a Hereford up in our area, it doesn’t have the coat to survive the weather.”
“I always thought ranches meant you had scads of cows on it.”
Steve smiled a little, finishing off his salad and opening the last biscuit he’d taken from a nearby tray. “Ours doesn’t. None of the ranches in western Wyoming do. So? We sell grass leases.”
“They’ve got some of the most luscious and nutritious grass in the US,” Maud told them. “It’s amazing. It grows so fast. And it’s so thick and abundant. It grows two or three feet long, depending upon the species.”
“We’re going to have to invite ourselves out to meet your family,” James said. “I’m sure your father would be more than happy to squire Martha and me around and see the family ranch.”
“He’d like that,” Steve said, pleased that he made such a request. “We have log cabins on the property and we rent them out to tourists during the summer months. And that’s the time you should come, July or August. We’ll put you up in one of them, but I warn you, they aren’t like your apartment.”
“No,” Maud said, “they’re rustic.”
Martha smiled and blotted her lips with the orange linen napkin. “As long as it has a toilet and hot and cold water, I’m happy.”
“Oh, they’re a lot nicer than that,” Maud put in.
“I think, if I recall,” James told his daughter, “that part of your business plan was to expand the number of cabins for tourists?”
“Absolutely. Once we get them to stop and play in our area, we want to provide them with a western experience by renting a log cabin. I want to build them big enough for a family of four and even the family dog coming along.”
“I just think that the geography of the area is working against you,” Martha said, giving her a sad look. “How can you compete with the Tetons, Yellowstone, and Jackson Hole? It’s like a nature lover or anyone interested in the Wild West will have it all within fifty miles of these three grand tourist destinations.”
“Well,” Maud demurred, “my plans are to create places where the tourists driving through will WANT to stop.” She gave them an earnest look. “I want family stops. Things for children to play on, to explore and take part in. I know that’s years away, and I know tourist destinations always evolve and change. What it is today, it won’t be, necessarily, in twenty years.”
“It will probably take you that twenty years,” James said. “If you’re relying on the ranch to be the base of income that means saving a lot of money.”
“It does,” Steve agreed, “but my mother worked a year to make inroads into a western grocery chain to buy our low-cholesterol buffalo meat. That was five years ago. Demands for the meat have risen over two hundred percent a year. For the first time in our family’s history, we’ve gone from always being in the red, to deep into black territory.”
“I need to meet Lydia,” Martha said, smiling broadly. “She sounds like a businesswoman like myself.”
“Oh,” Maud laughed, “she is! Steve and I think you two are like two peas from the same pod!”
“Well, now that they’re engaged, Pet, I think it’s time we put them on our appointment schedule and get out to meet Sam and Lydia,” James suggested.
“Absolutely,” she agreed. “I’ve never really been on a ranch and sadly, I haven’t done much western travel, except to the West Coast.”
“I’d love you to see their ranch,” Maud whispered, suddenly emotional. “It’s like a dream come true for me, Mom. The sky is so big! There’s so much clean air, trees, and grass. I love the horses and the other animals they raise. I always look forward to going out there. It’s like shedding my skin and I renew myself.”
Martha gave her daughter a warm look. “You have always been happiest when we were out in the woods or out on the land.”
James smiled. “She’s taken a lot from me on that. I’d rather be out on the golf course, hunting in the weeds for a ball, as I’ve gotten older.”
“Both of you two birds,” Martha declared, “are rural people at heart.” She patted Maud’s hand. “Over dinner? Let’s talk more about when we might come out. And oh, you must tell me what to wear out there!”
Steve gave Maud a one-eyebrow-raised look, but he said nothing.
James laughed. “You know there are NO five-star restaurants out there in Wind River Valley, Martha?”
She frowned. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“But, what about Jackson Hole?”
“None.” James’s grin widened and he leaned back in his chair, chuckling. “Probably the closest five-stars would be Salt Lake City, Utah.”
“But, that’s so far away!”
Maud giggled. Steve gave her a sour grin, again, not volunteering to say anything. James laughed deeply, enjoying Martha’s sudden discomfiture.
“My mother is a darned good cook,” Steve said, trying to ease her worries.
“I’ve been working with Lydia in the kitchen and she’s a wonderful cook, Mom.”
“Oh, well, that’s good. I’m honestly not worried about the home cooking at Steve’s ranch. I trust Lydia’s cooking.”
“She’ll be happy to hear that,” Steve said, a grin crawling across his mouth.
James roared with laughter.
Maud saw her mother’s cheeks turn bright red. “Mom, it’s okay. Really. You will love the food Lydia serves for dinner.”
“Just don’t expect dinnerware like this,” Steve said. “My mother’s silverware and china are almost a hundred years old. We’re kind of simple that way, Martha.”
“That doesn’t bother me at all,” she told Steve. “I’m truly sorry if I sounded like a shrew about this. I’m just used to New York City. I don’t expect the same type of restaurants out in Wyoming.”
“It’s the Wild West,” Steve said, giving her a kind look that he hoped made Martha feel less embarrassed.
“You like a good steak,” James teased her. “This is where your beef comes from: Wyoming.”
“You’re quite right,” Martha said, touching her hair in a nervous gesture. “I’m sure it will be a wonderful experience.”
“You just can’t wear any of your Chanel outfits on the ranch,” Maud counseled, patting her mother’s shoulder. “And you love to ride horses. Steve’s parents have a lot of horses used by wranglers that you can choose from.”
