The Christmas Room

by Catherine Anderson

  As tempting as it was, Maddie couldn’t very well ignore the tottering geriatric, so she walked over to greet her in front of the bar, where traditionally garbed cowboys of varying ages sat on stools that lined the footrail. Grasping Emma’s fragile, veined hand, Maddie said, “Dear heaven, Emma, you should sit at a lower table so you can use a chair.”

  Two other book club members waved at Maddie from their lofty perches. Verna, a reading enthusiast with bright pink hair, said, “We walk on the wild side when we do breakfast. We even have caffeine.”

  Her sidekick, Martha, nodded and further explained, “We don’t get many opportunities to practice our balance, dear.”

  Maddie noted that Caleb had the blank expression of a deer caught in the glare of headlights. She guessed that her grandson had rarely seen a lady with cherry blossom pink curls.

  Emma kept hold of Maddie’s hand. “You must join us! Verna, grab two more barstools.” She smiled at Caleb. “And who is this handsome young fellow?”

  Maddie, feeling like a bit of flotsam caught in a current, made the introductions. Emma finally let go of her hand to shake Caleb’s. “I’m delighted to meet you. My husband, Herm, has been looking for someone your age to help out at our farm. Would you be interested in meeting with him to discuss the details?”

  Maddie figured that would be a difficult interview for Emma to arrange. Herman Pedigrew was six feet under in a cement vault. At book club meetings, Emma sometimes told Maddie sad stories about Herm’s illness and eventual demise. Other times, Herm was alive, at least in Emma’s mind, and she was as happy as a little clam in its shell.

  “Sure,” Caleb said. “I need a job to help pay Gram back for renting me a violin.”

  Maddie wanted to follow through with her plan to recruit roundup volunteers, but Verna had already stolen two barstools from another table. She and Caleb had no choice but to take a seat.

  Martha handed them menus. “This is perfect timing. We were just about to order.”

  “Oh, no, we can’t stay for a meal,” Maddie explained. “I’ve come on an urgent mission, I’m afraid.”

  Martha reached over to pat Maddie’s hand. “Oh, dear, what kind of urgent decision are you trying to make?”

  Verna slanted a snarky look at her friend. “Martha, for God’s sake, did you forget your hearing aids again?”

  Maddie quickly explained the situation. “The weather forecast was dead wrong, and Sam Conacher, along with two other men, is up on his grazing land, caught in this storm.”

  Emma clutched the sleeve of Maddie’s wool coat. “Did you say Sam Conacher? He’s been so devoted to me since Herm passed away! Of course the men in here will go help him.”

  Maddie vaguely remembered Sam saying that he did the heavy farm chores for a little old lady along Fox Hollow Road, but she’d never dreamed the recipient of his kindness was her new friend Emma, whose husband was dead one moment and resurrected the next.

  Emma shifted on her seat, gripped the edge of the table, and started to climb off her stool. Caleb reacted like a jack-in-the-box that had just had its button pushed. He was steadying Emma in a blink. The elderly woman collected her composure, turned toward the bar, and clapped her hands.

  “Attention!” she yelled, her normally crackly voice booming like that of a stevedore. Maddie decided Emma must have once been a force to be reckoned with. “We’ve got neighbors in trouble!”

  The cowboys at the bar swiveled around in unison. Maddie was surprised to see that three of them were women. The heads of people sitting at the many tables jerked up, and all gazes became trained on Emma.

  “Who’s in trouble?” a man sitting near the ponderosa pine asked.

  Maddie’s mouth had gone dry. “Sam Conacher, along with his ranch manager, Miguel Alvarez, and my son, Cam McLendon. They trailered horses up to Sam’s grazing land on the east side this morning. This storm wasn’t forecast on the weather apps, and Sam still has a lot of cows at high elevations.”

  From somewhere else in the room, a man said, “If Sam hadn’t treated his hired hands so awful, he’d have his cattle out to pasture by now.”

  “Regardless, the job is too much for only three men,” Maddie argued. “If Sam can’t bring those cows in, he’ll take a huge financial loss. More important, all three men are risking their lives out there. They could even be trapped by the snow. Sam needs the help of his friends.”

  Seven extremely tall men got up from different dining places around the bar. Bundled in heavy jackets with insulated gloves poking up from the pockets, the ranchers looked huge to Maddie, and she wondered what on earth the mothers in Montana fed their boys as they grew up.

  “Sam Conacher no longer has any friends in this valley,” a fellow off to the left bellowed.

  “Yep,” another man agreed. “He’s a mean-hearted, selfish, foulmouthed bastard!”

  Someone else cried, “Don’t forget that he’s also a hopeless drunk!”

  “Why should we be friends to him when he abandoned all of us?”

  “Yeah, where was he two summers ago when wildfire leaped onto my alfalfa fields? He didn’t give a shit if I went broke.”

  Maddie felt sudden heat zap her bloodstream. “Sam Conacher is no longer a drunk!” she cried. “He quit the heavy drinking more than four years ago! And you’re forgetting that he lost his wife. Have you ever stopped to think how angry you would be if the same thing happened to you? Is it beyond the realm of possibility that one of you might have drowned your sorrows in a whiskey bottle for a while and avoided former friends who still had their wives? Are you completely unable to recall the man Sam used to be—the friend who always came to help you?”

  Emma tottered forward. “Frankie Johnson, I’m ashamed of you! I’ll bet you still can’t remember the spelling rule ‘I before E except after C.’”

  Maddie saw one of the angry ranchers bow his head and suspected she’d located Frankie.

  “And you, Mary!” Emma cried. “Get up from that chair and elbow your husband a good one in the ribs. He always did talk when he shouldn’t and disrupted my classroom.” Emma took two more unsteady steps forward. “I hear all of you damning Sam for not coming when you needed his help. Well, now I’ll ask where all of you were after Herm died. After his funeral, you vanished, and the only man in this whole valley who consistently stopped by my farm to offer me help was Sam. From where I’m standing, all of you are big on talk. Three men could die up there on that mountain today. If none of you go to help, I’ll be ashamed of every last one of you.”

  The ranchers fell quiet, and all of them hung their heads. Maddie knew then that, with Emma’s help, she had delivered her message. The rest was up to them.

  She guided the older woman back to the table, resumed her own seat, and said, “Thank you, Emma. You were a godsend.”

  Emma got herself situated on her stool and said, “They’re all wonderful boys. They just need to be bopped on the head every once in a while.”

  • • •

  The storm had gained in fury, and the wind, as cold as dry ice, pierced Sam’s jacket to burn his skin. Even with the protection of gloves, his hands had gone numb, and though he could see that his legs were pressed tight against the sides of his mount, he couldn’t feel them anymore. It wasn’t yet noon, and they’d gathered only ten cows. Sam could fit twenty in the stock trailer. He kicked himself now for selling the double-decker attached to a semitruck. Hindsight was always better than foresight. He’d needed the money last spring, and he’d wrongly believed that he could get all his herds off the grazing parcels by making trips back and forth.

  None of that matters now, he realized. The safety of Miguel and Cam weighed heavily on his shoulders. Sam reined his mount in a slow circle, whistling three long notes, the agreed-upon signal that would let the two other men know it was time to bunch up. Sam was afraid they might freeze to death in the saddle. Hell, he wa
s even fearful for his own safety. It was time to get the hell out of here.

  It saddened Sam deeply that the cattle he left behind would perish. Sam whistled for his companions again, and then he sent up a prayer that his cows would die quickly. He’d been meaner than a snake to other people for the last six years, but one sin he’d never committed was cruelty to animals. The stupid bovines would huddle up and starve to death, though. Sam hated for them to suffer, but he’d done his best by them.

  He glimpsed a large shape moving toward him through the blowing snow. His eyes stung as he tried to determine who it was. Finally he recognized the buckskin horse and knew it was Cam.

  “My reins are frozen stiff!” the younger man yelled.

  Sam held back a smile, afraid his cheeks might crack. “Where’s Miguel?”

  “Beats the hell out of me! We lost each other about an hour ago, when we found some cows. They spooked and scattered.” Cam lowered his voice as he pulled his mount to a stop near Sam. “Miguel went one way, and I went another, hot on their heels. I couldn’t gather them up.”

  Sam knew how that story went. The cattle had gone wild over the spring and summer. They spooked easily and then ran blind. He whistled through his teeth again, emitting three sharp blasts. An instant later, he heard Miguel whistle back, but only once.

  “He’s coming in,” he told Cam. “Soon as he gets here, we need to get off this damned mountain while we can still see. I should have brought flashlights and survival blankets, damn it.”

  “This storm must have sneaked in,” Cam replied. “I checked this morning, and there was nothing in the forecast for the next seven days.”

  “Yeah, well, the saying is, ‘Only a fool or a meteorologist predicts the weather in Montana.’”

  Cam laughed. “People claim the same in Northern Cal.”

  Sam tugged up his coat collar to protect his neck. “This is the last hurrah. The snow will be so deep in the gullies by morning that a horse won’t be able to safely make it up here. Chances are, even the quads could get stuck.” Sam used ATVs only as a last resort, because they spooked the cows even worse than equines did. “You win some, and you lose some, I reckon.”

  “I’m sorry, Sam.”

  Miguel rode up just then. “I’m still good to go, Senor Conacher.”

  Sam couldn’t allow that. “No, Miguel. We’re calling it quits.”

  “But the losses, seor. They will hit you hard.”

  Sam couldn’t let himself think about that. Maybe Maddie would get her wish, and he’d be sitting on his porch next summer to watch the sun go down. “You’ve got Gabriella and your boy to think about, and Cam is my daughter’s future. Let’s head down.”

  Sam had never expected semidarkness to descend so early in the day. Without electric lanterns or flashlights, the way down would be treacherous. Suddenly he saw golden orbs bobbing in the swirls of white just downhill from them. Bewildered, he drew his mount to a halt.

  Riders entered the clearing, three abreast. Sam recognized Frank Johnson, one of his former best friends. Eleven men accompanied him. A lump settled at the base of his throat. He heard the unmistakable voice of another rancher named Sparky. The next thing Sam knew, all twelve riders drew in around him and his helpers. Sam knew they had spread out from his truck and ridden up until they saw horse tracks in the snow.

  “I don’t deserve this from you,” Sam told them.

  Frank said, “Not a man among us would be here if it weren’t for Madeline McLendon and Mrs. Pedigrew. They shamed all of us into coming.”

  Sam almost told them to get the hell off his mountain then. But the truth was, he knew he’d earned their scorn. He had no idea what Maddie had said to them, but they had come. Even though he couldn’t let them make this grand gesture at the risk of their lives, he’d be a fool if he acted like an asshole, even if it was one of the things he did best.

  “I appreciate that you’ve come to help,” Sam admitted. No words had ever pained him more. “But this show is over. I can’t put your lives or the safety of your horses at risk. A damned bunch of cows isn’t worth it.”

  Dick Hummel, off to Sam’s left, said, “That’s pussy talk, Conacher. We came for a roundup, and we’ll by God have a roundup.” He took off his hat and slapped it against his leg to dust off the snow. His blue eyes cut through the drifting white like knives. “We’re mighty sorry about Annie, Sam. All of us are.”

  “Damn straight,” someone else said. “She was a wonderful lady, and it wasn’t fair that you lost your wife while we got to keep ours.”

  Sam knew they had said these words to him long ago, but he hadn’t really heard them then. He did now.

  Frank said, “I didn’t keep coming around after you kicked me off your place. I regret that now. I should have grabbed leather and hung on for the ride until you were able to talk about losing her. I was pissed at you then. I couldn’t understand. But I know all of us failed you in one way or another.”

  None of these men was responsible for Annie’s death. Only Sam held that honor. He had adored his baby girl, but he’d also wanted a son to carry on the empire that he had worked so hard to build. Since meeting Maddie, Sam had tried to shrug off his sense of guilt, but now it sliced through him again like a knife.

  “You didn’t fail me,” Sam said firmly. “I failed myself. I can’t accept your apologies, because I don’t deserve them. I do deeply appreciate this show of support, though. Problem is, I sold my double-decker, boys. I can only fit five more cows in my stock trailer.”

  “Hell, Sam,” Donahue hollered, “do you think we’re dumb asses? Each of us brought a stock trailer. Left them with the ramps down and ready for incoming traffic.” He nodded to Cam and Miguel. “Three men aren’t enough to do this job. Sam never learned his lesson that he can’t drive a spike with a tack hammer.”

  Sam lost control of the whole operation then. His old friend Frank took over, dividing his men into groups of four and sending them out in different directions. That left Sam to work with Cam and Miguel. “You boys up to several more hours of this shit?”

  “Let’s do it,” Cam said. “My share of the ranch is on the line.” He grinned at Miguel. “I’ll give you a quarter of what I get.”

  Sam grinned in spite of himself, and then he fell in with them as they went up the slope. Five hours later, it was colder than a well digger’s ass, everyone was exhausted, and a head count of the bawling cows in the trailers was still forty short. It was no small loss for Sam, but it was far better than losing all of them.

  Sam walked the circuit to slap backs and shake hands with his onetime friends, thanking each man personally. Then, with the rescued bovines bawling and creating a din with their hooves on trailer floors, Sam gazed through the darkness at the mountain. He made a quick sign of the cross.

  “Please, God, don’t let the poor things suffer. Take them quick and put ’em on sunny pastures.”

  “Amen,” a chorus of male voices said behind him.

  Then Frank stepped up to clamp a heavy gloved hand over Sam’s shoulder. “You did the best you could, Sam. Next time you get in a pinch, call me. I’ll round up the guys, and we’ll help.”

  Sam got tears in his eyes. He hated like hell for Frank to see them, but his own gloves were frozen, and he couldn’t wipe his cheeks. He turned around. “Back at you, pal. I’m sorry I’ve been such a jackass for the last six years.”

  • • •

  Maddie heard all the trailers coming in before she could even see headlights. Gabriella and Caleb joined her at the window. Kirstin soon flanked her on the other side. They heard what sounded like hundreds of cows bawling inside the containers as they rolled through the ranch proper. Kirstin clapped her hands. Caleb punched the air with his fist. Gabriella smiled and nodded. Rickie, who came running from the living room, shouted with glee and air-boxed with Caleb.

  “I’d better get the fo
od on the table!” Maddie exclaimed. “And then I’ll pray we made enough.”

  “No hurry,” Kirstin said. “I counted twelve trailers. They’ll be a while unloading.”

  “How do they do that?”

  Kirstin grinned. “They back the trailers in through a pasture gate and lower the ramps. Most of the time, cattle can’t wait to get out, so all you do is get out of their way. Sometimes, though, you’ll have a few that bunch up at the back. That can be difficult if you don’t know what you’re doing. Fortunately, Dad’s friends have been cowpokes all their lives.”

  Kirstin put Rickie and Caleb to work setting out stacks of plates and flatware on the table while she opened several bottles of wine and climbed on a stool to get extra goblets from a top cupboard. Maddie had decided to serve the meal buffet-style, which would allow diners to feel comfortable about sitting wherever they wished to eat. Sam’s table could seat twelve in a pinch, but Maddie hoped they’d have more people.

  Maddie decided to call Emma while she was waiting for the front door to open. Her friend had helped her out in a big way at the bar this morning and deserved to get an update. While Maddie chatted with Emma, who was worried about Herm because he wasn’t home yet, Kirstin and Gabriella began taking food from the warmers and oven.

  Verna had shared with Maddie that Emma often grew anxious when Herm didn’t come home. The best thing to do, according to her, was to pretend that Herm was still alive and just away somewhere for an overnighter. Most of the time, Emma woke up the next morning aware that Herm had passed away.

  “Emma, you needn’t worry about Herm. He helped Sam round up cows today, and he’s so exhausted that Sam insisted he stay for dinner and sleep here for the night.”

  “Oh,” Emma said. “But we’re right across the road. It’s not that far for Herm to drive.”

  “No, it isn’t, but dear heavens, Emma, the roads are so slick! You wouldn’t want him to go off in a ditch, would you?”

  Emma finally agreed that her beloved Herman would be safer if he stayed all night with Sam. Just as Maddie ended the call, men began filing into the house. She’d never seen so many wet jackets that had frozen stiff. She spread towels on the living room floor. Sam’s guests tossed their coats down any old which way, but the Stetsons were treated with the utmost respect.