All That Glitters

by Lisa Prysock

  Nicole grinned with a chuckle and shaking her head, said, “Well, you can scratch riding a cow off your bucket list.”

  Chapter 12

  "As long as this deliberate refusal to understand things from above, even where such understanding is possible, continues, it is idle to talk of any final victory over materialism."

  —C.S. Lewis

  More flowers and deliveries arrived for cabin eight, and every single day, Jack Colten faithfully brought the new packages and pretty flower arrangements to Nicole’s door. Soon, there were few places left for him to place the deliveries. Stacks of boxes piled up in the foyer and spilled over into the living room.

  She noticed he looked uncomfortable after the first few deliveries, but he never commented about them. Finally, on about the fourteenth delivery, he stood in the foyer with boxes piled high in his arms after he’d added another vase of a dozen red roses to the island.

  She’d lined up the first five vases along the counter between the living room and kitchen, and spread the others out in each room, including the dining room table, the island, the end table and entertainment center, some in their bedrooms, even the bathrooms. Plus, there were the roses Jack brought.

  Nicole stacked the boxes along the foyer wall beneath the coat hooks, and around the corner into the living room. Each pile had started to grow fairly high. Some days only two or three packages arrived; other days, there were far more.

  “Where would you like these?” Jack chuckled as he attempted to peek around the stack in his arms at the corner in the living room.

  “Well, those boxes are dry and canned food items, so on the island would be best.” She stepped toward him and accepted the top two from his arms to carry to the island herself.

  “You stocking up in case of a blizzard?” he asked.

  “Maybe.” Nicole tossed him a playful look as she twisted her black mane into a messy bun. She’d just returned from the workout facility on the property and looked a fright. Then she pushed the long sleeves of her sporty winter shirt up to her forearms and began moving the roses to the table, creating plenty of room to open the items from the delivery. She found herself amused by his curiosity, but didn’t offer any explanations.

  He placed the last of the boxes in his arms on the island beside the ones she’d placed there. “Well, it’s good to be prepared. Wyoming does sometimes experience blizzard conditions and snow storms. In some storms, it’s dangerous to even walk to the next cabin without risking getting lost. It’s always a good idea to have extra food on hand.”

  She nodded while placing cans of chicken noodle soup on the shelves in the pantry. “I heard this might be a tough winter for Wyoming. We had a few like that when I was a kid in Wisconsin.”

  “That’s what they say,” Jack agreed. Wandering into the living room to peer at the corner with all of the other boxes, he appeared to be taking in the scene with more inquisitiveness than he’d shown on previous visits where he’d done his duty and appeared to have shrugged off his questions. “Are all of these for Amy? I know you mentioned you were staying on the ranch until January, so I guess you’ll be celebrating Christmas here.”

  He seemed to work at ignoring the flowers, and since her ankle had healed and the daily afternoon deliveries had begun, he hadn’t returned to cook for them. Nor had he asked her on any official dates, but he had sought her out at almost all of the BBQ chuck wagon dinners to sit with her and Amy. In addition, they ran into each other frequently for various ranch activities and other meals. Nicole figured that was part of why he hadn’t asked her out. They were spending plenty of time together. In fact, he’d been the wrangler who drove them to visit the museum in Lander about pioneers. He’d sat with them at Bubba’s Burgers for lunch afterwards. Plus, he’d been at the barns when they’d gone riding in the afternoons a few times after Amy had finished her school lessons. He’d been one of the wranglers who’d saddled their horses and acted as a guide on the trails.

  “No, not all, but many of them are.” She was reluctant to answer his questions. “I’ve been Christmas shopping for family, too.”

  He stared at the boxes for a while longer. Looking up, he asked, “Say, where is Amy today? She usually answers the door.”

  “She’s been invited to practice some dance moves with Redemption Revolution while I was working out.”

  “She’s probably in her glory, then,” he joked with a grin as he wandered over to the kitchen with his hands in his pockets and then peered into the boxes on the island.

  Nicole began putting cans of vegetables in the pantry on the next shelf. “I’m sure she is.”

  He handed her cans of green beans while they talked. “So what’d you get her for Christmas?”

  “Well, a lot of clothing, for one thing. She’s growing fast and it’s hard for me to keep up. Jeans, shorts, shirts, leggings, dresses, skirts, shoes, socks, pajamas...”

  “True. Kids need clothing, but they’re not usually too excited about clothes on Christmas morning. Did you get her any toys?”

  “I did,” she smiled. “I purchased her a brand new pink bike with all the bells and whistles. It has streamers, a bell, a basket, a license plate, and reflectors.”

  “That’s awesome! She’ll love it.” Jack grinned, handing her several cans of sweet corn.

  “I also bought her an American Girl Doll, with several outfits.” Nicole smiled. “I think she’ll really like it. She’s been asking for one of these dolls ever since Madison got one for her birthday.”

  “I heard about those. I think my niece, Christy, has one.” He handed her some boxes of saltines.

  “I also bought her some new books to read, some sketch pads, and new coloring books...oh, and an art set with coloring supplies like colored pencils and crayons. She loves to draw and color.”

  “Great choices. Sounds like you did well.” Jack paused before handing her some cans of mandarin oranges. “I really need to get her something, but I’m not sure what yet. Any suggestions?”

  “Well, since you asked, she’d really love to have a doll house, but if you don’t get it, would you let me know? I’m really thinking about getting her one, but I think she’d be thrilled to have a gift from Cowboy Jack under the tree and not just stuff from me.”

  “Has she ever had one before?” he asked.

  She nodded, placing the mandarin oranges he handed her on a shelf below the veggies. “Just a small one and it didn’t have very many items to go with it. She’s ready for something with lots of doll furniture and toy people to go inside it.”

  “I’ll definitely get her one. I’ll warn you though; you’ll have to ship it home to Santa Monica with the bike. I’m going to get her the biggest doll house I can find.”

  Nicole grinned. “Oh, Jack, that’s not necessary, really. Whatever you can find will be fine. They sell out quickly though, so don’t wait until the last minute, okay?”

  “Aye, aye, cap’n,” he teased, saluting her. He glanced nervously toward the rest of the boxes as he handed her jars of Alfredo sauce and a few boxes of pasta. “Looks like you’re going to have to ship a ton of stuff out.”

  “Well, yeah. I bought gifts for my whole family.” She accepted the items and then began placing them in the pantry. “I may be overcompensating a bit for lost time. I bought gifts for all of my nieces and nephews. Oh, and there are four siblings to consider when you count spouses, plus my parents. I had to buy a gift for my best friend, Brooke, and her family. They spend so much time with Amy when I’m filming. So, there’s that...”

  He chuckled. “Okay, you had me worried there.”

  “Plus I had to buy something for my agent.” She accepted two boxes of apple cinnamon tea and several packages of coffee. “Plus, all this food, and we needed a few more winter clothes.”

  “Say, listen,” Jack set a box of paper towels aside for the moment and then pulled her into his arms. “You don’t have to explain.”

  “I know it’s a lot, but I really enjoy shopping anyways
. Besides, it’s fun and, well, to be honest, I can afford it.” Eye level with his chest, she fidgeted with the buttons on his flannel shirt beneath his winter jacket as he held her in his arms.

  “I think I understand. You really like shopping and it’s Christmas on top of everything else. Whaddya say we get a tree for your cabin and a few decorations? Thanksgiving is next week, so Logan has a company coming to the property to sell Christmas trees. The three of us could look at the selection, maybe after some sled riding if there’s enough snow. They say it’s going to snow tomorrow and on into the rest of next week.”

  “Why, Jack Colten? I do believe you’re asking me out on a date.” She smiled up at him coyly.

  He grinned. “As Amy says, now you’re onto my plan.”

  “I think you may have to drive us into town to purchase some decorations at some point beforehand.” She raised an eyebrow and added, “Or, I could purchase some online and you could deliver them when they arrive.”

  He laughed. “I’ll be happy to drive you into town, but I do have a question.”

  “What’s that, Jack Colten?”

  “Have you thought about what I said and decided to break it off with this Drew fellow?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, is Amy attached to him, too?”

  “Amy? Attached to Drew Fairchild?” Nicole withdrew from his embrace. “I mean, he’s accompanied us to the beach a few times each year. We’ve been swimming at the family estate on numerous occasions. He’s taken us out for dinner tons of times, but he and Amy don’t talk much.”

  “Doesn’t that concern you?”

  “Yes, it concerns me. Of course, it concerns me. We rode the Ferris wheel on the Santa Monica pier before we flew to Wyoming and he probably said more on that evening to Amy than he’s said to her in five years. I don’t think it’s his fault. It’s just the way Drew is. He’s an only child and in all fairness, I think he’s simply not very good at conversing with kids. I think he’s trying, though. I think he had to grow up very quickly as the heir to the Fairchild legacy.”

  “So, you haven’t broken it off and I’m still going to have to keep delivering these roses from him every day?” Jack’s eyes flashed a look full of anger as he glanced at the roses around the kitchen.

  “Well, no I haven’t broken it off with him, not exactly,” she admitted. “I’m still confused and I need to think it through more carefully. I mean, we’re not a thing. It’s not as if you’ve asked me to be your girl, you know. I didn’t expect any of this to happen. It’s not as if I went looking for you. Plus, I have my career to consider.”

  Jack reached for his cowboy hat, clearly frustrated. “Well, why would I ask you to be my girl if you’re with someone else?’

  She planted both hands on her hips. “Why would I break it off with a man worth billions who has done nothing but good for me, helped nurture and establish my career, dated me for five years, romantically proposed an offer of a loving marriage—for a guy I’ve known for two weeks who I may never see again?”

  His tone softened. “Look, I have to get back to work and I think we both have some thinking to do.”

  “Fine!” she snapped.

  “Fine.” Jack Colten strode out of the cabin and the door slammed behind him, leaving a plethora of boxes for her to stare at, and a very loud silence hanging in the air.

  Jill’s Family Tree

  Chapter 13

  "There is a growing conviction everywhere, and especially among thoughtful people, that unless revival comes, other forces will take the field, that will sink us still deeper into the mire of humanism and materialism."

  —Duncan Campbell

  “What’s this, Mrs. Wright?” Jill looked up from where she sat beside a lady by the name of Laina as Mrs. Wright slid a tray in her direction. Then the ranch cook found her usual seat and joined everyone for the quilting session.

  It was Nicole’s third quilting session. She had grown more comfortable with the group and with quilting. At least she didn’t have to wear sunglasses and try to dress incognito to keep from being recognized like she did when they went into Lander. The ladies accepted her presence and treated her like a friend. She met someone new at each session, but so far, they’d all been warm and friendly. Amy enjoyed sitting at another table pulled up close to the adult table with the other children, but she especially enjoyed being able to unleash her creativity making outfits for her dolls out of scraps of fabric.

  Nicole glanced at the tray. Elegant, long-stem, glass cups each held a serving of gelatin mixed with fruit and whipped cream. Sprinkled with toasted coconut, a spoonful of whipped cream, and topped with a cherry, the dessert looked delicious.

  “There’s one for everyone and a few extra.” Mrs. Wright began threading a needle. “It’s ambrosia salad.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Wright, how’d you know I’ve been craving this?” Jill smiled at the ranch cook as she picked up a spoon and one of the desserts. Then she passed the tray to Laina.

  “Logan put in a request on your behalf this morning.” Mrs. Wright looked pleased that Jill was so happy and quickly finished threading her needle. Then she bent her head over the square she’d been working on.

  Nicole wished she could thread her own needle as expertly as Mrs. Wright and some of the other ladies could, but she wasn’t alone in being inept and feeling clumsy with a needle and thread. Laina had confessed sharing the same problem.

  “Your Logan is so sweet.” Laina placed a hand on her growing belly and looked down. Nicole remembered from the last quilting session, the blond who wore the pretty braid had said she was about four months along. “Austin’s been looking after me, too. I have cravings at the oddest times. The last one was a few days ago. Our baby wanted chocolate chip mint ice cream with banana slices at midnight.”

  The ladies in the room chuckled, nodding, most of them remembering similar stories of their own. Jill turned to Laina and paused, holding a spoonful of the dessert. “Did he drive into Lander for you?”

  “He did,” Laina laughed and tossed her long blond braid over one shoulder.

  “He’s got what it takes to be a great dad already, then.” Sadie, Logan’s mom who lived in the cabin on the southwest corner of the property, nodded approvingly. “My husband, Jack, did the same thing for me when I was pregnant with Logan and Cassie. I used to crave onion rings with Cassie and steak with Logan. He’d drive into town to pick them up for me at Whip’s Steakhouse. Sometimes he’d bring a steak home to cook on the grill or onion rings we could make in the deep fryer.”

  Nicole shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she attempted to thread her needle for the third time. She couldn’t contribute any good memories of Lane Richards doing the same for her when she’d been expecting Amy, so she kept her focus on her needle.

  As the tray of ambrosia salads circulated around the table, Betty Anne chimed in with a story about Jill’s deceased father, Maxwell. “How I used to crave apple fritters, apple dumplings, and cucumber tomato salad when I was pregnant with Jill. Max would harvest the ingredients for me, fresh. We used our own butter, eggs, apples, and veggies from our farm.”

  Jill’s mom continued. “One time I told him I needed more apples, and he said okay. I was making our supper, so off he went to pick some apples from our tiny little orchard. Well, I had been trying to impress him with my cooking in those early days of our marriage. So, being partly Jewish Italian, I’d made a fancy dinner of caponata, Jewish rugelach pastry twists, Italian wedding soup, and chicken parmigiana.”

  “What’s caponata, Grandma?” Jackie asked from the table with the other children. Jackie was Jill’s oldest daughter from what Nicole had managed to learn, and she was great at sewing and helping the younger children.

  “That’s a recipe from your great, great, great, great grandmother, Rachel Rosenberg. She was the daughter of Jewish Italian immigrants who migrated to America before World War I. Anyhow, she passed the recipe on to her daughter, Elizabeth Anne Mills, my great grandmother and namesake, who passed it o
n to her daughter, Jane Meredith, our grandmother—Aunt Meredith was named after her—who passed it on to my mother, Louisa Mable. She was a Fredericks before she married my father, Edward Johnston. Of course, I’m named after Elizabeth Anne, but everyone calls me Betty Anne.”

  “You always did have the better memory between us. I’d forgotten about Rachel. Who was Rachel’s mother?” Jill’s Aunt Meredith inquired of her sister.

  “Christy Jane and her maiden name was Belden.” Betty Anne tasted some of the ambrosia salad and smiled. “This is delicious, Mrs. Wright.”

  “Thank you,” the ranch cook replied without looking up from her stitching. “Christy Jane Belden has a nice ring to it.”

  “I agree,” Jill inserted. “I like it, too. She had a sister, Laura May Belden, who married an Epley.” Jill scooped up another small bite of the ambrosia salad. Nicole looked up to see her waving the spoon about while she recounted more interesting ancestry facts. “Let me see if I can remember this correctly. The Rosenbergs migrated here prior to World War I. Mom, correct me if I’m wrong, but when Christy married Ernest Rosenberg, they had a son named Moses and a daughter, Rachel. They survived the Great Depression of the 1930s and it wasn’t easy to come up with the funds to purchase the yard goods for her wedding dress, but the Ernest and the Epley fellow left their farms and took on work in the big city to send money back home.”

  “That’s right,” Betty Anne replied as she studied a quilt square.

  Jill continued. “Rachel Rosenberg, their daughter, married a fellow by the name of Abram Mills. Their daughter, Elizabeth Anne Mills, married George M. Parker, but I’ve no idea what the ‘M’ stands for. Maybe Meredith, because they had Jane Meredith Parker, who married Allen Fredericks. Their daughter was Louisa Mable Fredericks, my grandmother, who married Edward Johnston. Right?”

  “That’s right, Jill, and I’m so proud of you for remembering those stories and your heritage.” Betty Anne beamed proudly from over the edge of her eyeglasses at her daughter before making another stitch in her quilt square. Jill finally ate the spoonful of ambrosia salad she’d been waving around.