by Alexis Gold
He slipped off Whinny’s back and she began grazing a few meters away; she was trained to not go far. Wade crouched down by the poor cow and rubbed her head with his hands. She looked up at him with big, dark brown eyes, and his heart broke. There was only one thing he could do for her. He called Whinny over and took his shotgun out of his saddlebags. Wade said a short, silent prayer, then put the innocent cow out of her misery. There was nothing that could have been done for her. This was the only part of his job that he dreaded, but it had to be done.
Whinny’s head shot up—she looked toward Wade, startled by the boom from the shotgun, but she didn’t run. She was a good horse, trusting and patient. Wade was lucky to have her, and he told her so every day. He nuzzled her nose and leaned his head against her strong neck, recovering from the terrible thing he had had to do. Looking up at the sky, he realized it was still early, hours before noon. Shaking his head, he returned the shotgun to his saddlebag, and hopped onto Whinny’s back.
She waited for his command. He tightened his thighs, and she calmly set off. Wade did not look back. He rode well into the day, surveying the scattered cattle. He left the cow where she was. With the buzzards and the crows and the wolves, there wouldn’t be a trace of her by tomorrow morning.
Although it was a sad day, Wade couldn’t help looking out across the vast Montana landscape, soaking up all its beauty. The hills, green after the spring rains, and the endless blue sky were what he lived for. That’s why he did this. That’s why terrible mornings were worth it—to be out here, free and wild, one with the land.
As the sun splintered past midday and sank lower into the west, Wade decided to head home. He’d done all he could do for the day. Whinny was just as tired as he was by the time they reached the stables; Wade led her straight to the water. Her chestnut coat glistened with sweat as he brushed it out and massaged her sore muscles. Returning Whinny to her stable, his belly grumbled noisily, and he realized how hungry he was. Poking his head inside the house, he hollered, “Hey John, I’m going to Sally’s, you want anything?”
“No thanks,” John yelled back from the living room. Wade wondered if he’d even gotten up today, but he didn’t want to wait around long enough to find out the answer.
“All right then, see you later tonight.” He left quickly, shutting the door behind him. He wasn’t ready to talk about the cow they’d lost that morning.
The rusty old pickup sat in the driveway waiting for him. He hopped in and put the keys in the ignition. He was off to Sally’s, his favorite diner in all of Montana.
*
Wade went to Sally’s Diner at least twice a week. He either ordered the BBQ chicken sandwich or the chili. When he was particularly hungry or in a particularly good mood, he’d get a slice of pie as well. Sally’s had great pie.
He pulled off the highway and took the back roads. The afternoon light was gorgeous as it streamed through the swollen, white clouds. The blue of the sky was softening as evening approached. Wade felt lucky to experience such beauty. The parking lot was empty except for two cars. One he didn’t recognize, and the other was the owner, Verna’s, little, blue Mazda.
“Hi there, Wade,” Verna chimed. The bell at the top of the front door jangled as it shut behind him.
“Hello, Verna. How’s it going today?”
“Well, it’s going all right. We have a new waitress training today.” Verna pointed to a young woman rolling forks and knives into paper napkins at the counter. She looked up, and Wade’s breath caught in his throat. “I’m sure you don’t mind if she serves you today?”
“N-no, of course not,” Wade managed to say.
Verna beckoned the girl over. She had long, dark hair that was pulled back in a braid and fell halfway down her back, a little nose that turned up just slightly at the tip, and a plump bottom lip.
“Delaney Hart, this is Wade. He is one of our most precious regulars. I’m going to ask you to take real good care of him today. You think you can do that?”
Her eyes sparkled bright and blue as she said, “Sure I can. How are you doing today, Wade?”
Wade looked away bashfully, and said, “I’ve had better days, but I’m happy to be here, and I’m ready to eat.”
“Let’s get you fed, then!”
Wade took a seat at the counter and looked back at Verna, who smiled encouragingly at him. Turning back to Delaney, he asked, “How’s the chili today?”
She pursed her lips and put her hand to her chin, as if thinking really hard. “As far as I know, it’s pretty darn good, arguably as good as the BBQ chicken sandwich.” She broke her act with a smile.
“Verna told you, then,” Wade said.
“What? That you always order the same thing?” She leaned in and whispered, “Yeah, Verna told me.”
Then she laughed, and it was the most beautiful laugh Wade had ever heard. She threw her head back gracefully, and opened her mouth wide to let out a musical giggle that inspired a chuckle in him as well. He found himself smiling irrepressibly as she looked at him.
“So the chili, then?”
“Actually, let’s go with the sandwich today.”
“All right then.” She turned to put the order in. And then got Wade a glass of water that he gulped down immediately, hoping she didn’t notice him blushing—he wasn’t used to being around beautiful young women.
He ate his meal quickly, perturbed by how much Delaney’s presence stirred something in him. Every once in a while she would prance over and check on him to make sure he had everything he needed, and all he could do was smile and thank her.
After he had finished his sandwich, she asked, “Would you like a piece of pie too? Today it’s peach cobbler.”
“Well, if it’s peach cobbler, how could I say no?”
“Would you like some ice cream, too?”
“Just pie, thanks.”
Wade watched her cut his piece of pie; she was deliberate and delicate in her movements. She served him a hefty portion, which he did his best to finish.
“Where are you from?” Wade inquired. “You don’t seem like you’re from around here.”
“I’m not. I’m from California, but I moved out here recently when my mother passed away.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“She was sick for a long time. At least now she’s at peace.”
“That’s a nice way to look at it.”
“It’s what I have to do or I miss her too much.” She looked down and put her hands in her apron pockets. “What about you, Wade? Where are you from?”
“Originally, I’m from Wyoming, but I’ve been in Montana for at least ten years now. I work on a ranch about fifteen minutes from here. Sally’s is the closest—and tastiest—diner in Montana. That’s why I always come here.”
“I’ll be seeing you again then?”
“I’m sure of it.”
Wade paid her for his sandwich and said goodbye to Verna. On his way out the door he stopped and turned back. Delaney was looking at him. She waved, and he nodded his Stetson in her direction. He heard Verna giggle.
As he walked to his truck, his step felt a little lighter. During the entire drive home he replayed his interaction with Delaney in his mind. Was she flirting with him? For a moment he indulged the idea that she was, but then he convinced himself that she wasn’t. She was a beautiful woman from California, what would she be doing flirting with a dirty cowboy like him?
He made it home just before nightfall and stopped at the mailbox to grab the mail. After he parked the truck, he went through it—mostly junk mail, except one letter from the bank. It was addressed to John, but he opened it anyway. Wade tensed as he read it. He didn’t realize John was this far behind on payment.
If they didn’t come up with money soon, John would have to declare the ranch bankrupt and lose the property. Wade shook his head in disbelief. He suddenly realized he had not one, but two pieces of bad news to deliver to John this evening. When he got inside, however, John was alread
y asleep, and Wade didn’t have the heart to wake him.
Chapter 2
Wade had a hard time falling asleep that night. It was too quiet, especially after the storm the night before. The only sound was John’s snoring trumpeting into the night. Wade lay in front of the fire, reading and rereading the letter from the bank. There was no way John would be able to come up with the money. The thought of John losing the ranch broke Wade’s heart. There had to be something he could do—though he couldn’t think of anything at the moment.
The fire was beginning to die down, but Wade wasn’t ready to go to sleep. He threw another log into the fireplace and blew on the coals to get it to light. Wade promised himself that tomorrow he would go back to the bank and talk things out. That was the only option he could see. He would explain their situation, that John was sick, that they wouldn’t be able to bring in more money until the end of the season in April, that the bank would just have to give them an extension. That thought quelled his nerves, at least momentarily.
His thoughts drifted to earlier that day at Sally’s. Meeting Delaney Hart had affected him more than he was willing to admit. She was beautiful. There was no denying it. He wondered why she would be working at a place like Sally’s. From his perspective, she could have any kind of job she wanted—she seemed smart enough and funny enough and beautiful enough. He vowed to ask her next time he saw her, and fell asleep.
His dreams, as usual, were plagued by scenes from his childhood—his father looming over him with a large, glass bottle of whiskey in his hands, or waking up to his father yelling. Wade’s mother died in childbirth, and his father never forgave him for it. Wade rarely thought about his father, except in his dreams.
Every morning, when he woke up, he’d shake his head from side to side and rid his mind of the awful images. As soon as he got coffee in his system, the dreams would become distant, and by the time he was on his horse, he couldn’t even recall them.
This morning was no different. By the time he’d drunk his coffee and hopped on Whinny’s back, he was nothing but a simple cowboy doing his job. He rode out to survey his cattle, and came back a little early so he could go to the bank. He checked on John, who was reading a book on the couch and did not want to be bothered. Wade got the old man a cup of coffee before leaving, and placed the mug on the coffee table near enough to reach from the couch.
Wade hopped into the old pickup and made his way to town in twenty minutes. He’d been to the bank once before, but it had been with John. Wade didn’t like coming into town much; it gave him a headache. He didn’t like dealing with people, especially in unfortunate situations like these. He avoided confrontation at all costs, except for today. Wade couldn’t sit back and watch as the bank took everything from John.
The bank was a compact eggshell-colored building with small windows and a flat roof. Wade stood outside, apprehensively facing the large wooden doors, when they suddenly opened and two women walked out. They giggled at Wade just standing there. He ignored them and smoothed down his shirt with his hands, and entered with his head held high.
“Hello there,” a man dressed in a business suit said as Wade came in. “What is it that we can help you with today?”
“Uh…” Wade looked around the dismal bank. “I’m here to talk to a banker.”
“All right, sir, follow me, right this way.”
Wade was not a fan of suits, and he was not keen on being called sir. He was pure cowboy through and through. No part of him looked liked a sir.
“I’ll have you sit right here, and one of our bankers will be right with you.”
Wade tipped his Stetson, and then realized he should probably take it off. No one else was wearing a hat. He sat for a good ten or twenty minutes before a woman in a dark blue suit called him over to her desk. She had on a perfume of some sort that was at war with Wade’s nose. It was too sweet or too tangy, he couldn’t tell, but it made him sneeze.
“Oh dear,” the banker said. Her perfectly sculpted hair didn’t budge as she handed Wade a tissue. Wade blew his nose and shook his head back and forth. His eyes watered, and he wiped them on his sleeve. “All right then,” the banker said as Wade’s sneezing fit subsided. “What can I help you with today?”
“Well, I got this letter in the mail yesterday.” He placed the letter on the desk between them. The banker—a middle-aged woman with insipid skin and beady eyes—looked at him with no emotion. “It says that John Ashwood, who I am here today representing, will lose his ranch to foreclosure if he does not pay his debt in the next month. There is no way that he can come up with that amount of money so quickly. It just isn’t enough time.”
“I hear you—what’s your name, sir?”
“Wade. Wade Oliver, ma’am.”
“Mr. Oliver, I understand your concern, but this is just how the bank works. If you don’t pay your bills, this is what happens.”
“Yes, but we didn’t get any other letters explaining that this was going to happen. If John knew, I know that he wouldn’t have let things go this far. Please, ma’am. Isn’t there anything you can do?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Look, John is very sick, and I’m the only one out there running the ranch. As soon as the season is over, we will be able to pay back the bank. We are working as hard as we can.”
“I hear you, Mr. Oliver, but it doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t paid up until now.”
“Can I apply for a loan then?”
“We don’t do that with clients who are facing foreclosure.”
“Then what can I do to save the ranch?”
“I’m not sure there is much you can do.”
“You’re not sure?”
She looked at him blankly. Wade was so angry his hands were balled into fists at his sides, his fingernails digging into his palms. He snatched the letter off the table, and, gritting his teeth, carefully thanked the woman and walked out the door. He fell against the side of his truck and fought back an overwhelming urge to scream. Not much she could do? Was she kidding?
What was the point of having a bank if they couldn’t help him? He put his head in his hands for a moment, and rubbed his eyes. He’d just have to figure out something else. He wasn’t sure what, but it would have to be something, and soon.
He found himself driving to the diner. The parking lot was full and it looked like it was pretty busy inside, but Wade went in anyway. Verna nodded to him from where she stood, helping customers at the farthest booth. He waited by the door until she had a moment.
“As you can see, all our tables are full this afternoon. How about the counter today, Wade?”
“The counter always suits me just fine. Thanks, Verna.”
He strode to the counter and took a seat on a stool at the end. His heart skipped a beat when his eyes fell upon Delaney’s long braid swishing as she walked. She was facing the other way, starting another pot of coffee. Her waitressing outfit, a blue dress with a white and yellow-checkered apron, accented her hips, and the collar folded down nicely to accentuate her long neck. She turned around, and their eyes met. Wade realized he’d been staring.
“Hello, Wade,” she said. “Nice to see you again.”
“You as well,” he replied. He wanted to say more, but he was tongue-tied.
“What can I get you?”
“Just coffee for now, please.”
“Sure thing.” She smiled as she grabbed a mug and filled it to the brim with steaming coffee. “You strike me as the type of man who takes his coffee black.”
“You strike me as the type of woman who is usually right.”
“I don’t know about that, but my mother used to say I had the intuition of a sunflower.”
“A sunflower?”
“Yeah. They seem to know somehow to follow the sun, wherever it goes. They’ve got good intuition. Or at least my mother used to think so.” Her smile was radiant. It was the only thing in the diner that Wade wanted to look at. As she began to walk away, she said, �
��I’ve got to go help some other customers, but you let me know if you want to order anything or have a refill.”
“What if I just want to talk to you some more?”
That made her stop. She cocked her head to the side and put her hand on her hip.
“Well, Wade. Then you’ll just have to ask me out.”
Without over thinking it, Wade dared to ask, “Well, Delaney Hart, will you go out with me?”
