Montana Dreaming

by Judy Duarte

  After Brad parked in the lot behind the church, townsfolk said their good mornings and strolled beside or in front of him and Emily, heading around to the front. Sun streamed through stained glass windows into the vestibule, creating rainbows on the tile floor. Two sets of double wooden doors led into the main body of the church. They were propped open, and Brad could see the pews were filling up fast. They walked up the middle aisle and found an empty spot at the end of the pew about ten rows back from the pulpit.

  Brad had found his hand on the small of Emily’s back as they’d walked up the aisle. An odd feeling of the rightness of being here with her confused him.

  As they sat side by side in the pew, Emily leaned over and whispered to him, “Isn’t this beautiful?”

  He knew she meant the old wood and the stained glass windows and the interestingly carved pulpit that stood in the front. But all he could see was her face and the guilelessness in her beautiful green eyes.

  “Yes, it is.”

  They were still gazing at each other when the organ music began. Startled, they reached for hymnals and opened to the hymn numbers posted on the board to the side of the front pews.

  Discovering he remembered the old hymns, Brad’s voice rose along with Emily’s. Later he found himself listening intently to the minister’s sermon about the bonds of family. He’d never known a close-knit family like the one the reverend spoke of. When he’d lived with his mother, he’d felt resentment that she’d broken her marriage apart. When he’d lived with his dad, he’d missed his mother and the softness of her presence in the big house. Over the years he and his father had become civilly polite to each other, but Phillip Vaughn had taken every opportunity to blame the collapse of the marriage on his wife.

  Brad’s mother had never talked to him about the divorce. She’d never defended herself. She’d never told him why she’d turned to another man. The odd thing was, she’d never remarried. After the affair that had torn their family apart, she hadn’t even dated.

  At the end of the service, the minister gave a blessing to the congregation, then made a few announcements. The second one made Brad’s ears perk up.

  “Matilda Matheson will turn eighty-five this month. In honor of this milestone and all of the work she’s done for this church over the years, we’ll have a gathering in the church hall on May twenty-fifth. Everyone is welcome, and if you can’t find time to join us, you can bid her a happy birthday after services today.”

  He pointed to one of the first pews on the right side of the church. “She’s wearing a special birthday hat her niece gave her for the occasion, so you can’t miss her.”

  Brad took note of a large blue felt hat decorated with feathers and flowers, then leaned close to Emily. “We’ll have to stop and introduce ourselves. Maybe we can set up a meeting.”

  “Do you want to hang back until everyone’s wished her a happy birthday?” Emily asked.

  “That’s probably a good idea.”

  Although the rest of the congregation filed from the pews a few minutes later, after their row filed into the aisle, Emily and Brad lowered themselves to the pew once more. The church emptied amazingly quickly. Chatter in the vestibule was loud as they sat in silence.

  “The reverend’s sermon made me miss my family,” Emily admitted in the hushed aftermath of the service.

  “Do you see them often?”

  “I live with Mom. I can help Lizbeth better with college that way and I think my mother’s glad for the company. Lizbeth doesn’t get home every weekend. She finds rides with friends when she can, though she’ll be home for the summer next week. My brother and his family and Elaine and her boyfriend usually join us for dinner on Sundays. How about you? I know you see your dad every day at work, but that’s not the same as just keeping each other company.”

  “My dad and I have never just kept each other company,” Brad responded in a wry tone. “After my parents’ divorce, I spent weekends with him. My mother would drop me off Friday evening after school and he’d take me out to dinner somewhere. But then he usually worked the rest of the night while I watched TV. Saturdays he took me with him to the office. And Sundays we were just sort of there together until Mom came and got me in the afternoon. I’m not sure that was keeping each other company because we didn’t talk. After I began college, I didn’t see him much at all.”

  “Don’t you spend any fun time with him now?”

  “Fun? I’m not sure my father knows the meaning of that word. We go to so many business dinners that I guess it never occurs to us to see each other outside of that.”

  Emily’s eyes were large and sparkling, her voice soft as she asked, “And what about your mother?”

  “I’ve always thought my mother was as complicated as my father. I went to school, did my homework and she’d have the requisite cookies and milk ready while I was doing it. She can talk about anything under the sun and fill up any silence. But I don’t think we’ve ever had a serious conversation, not about anything that really matters.”

  “Like what?” Emily prodded.

  “Like life and its pitfalls and rewards.”

  “Do you bring girls home to her when you’re dating?”

  That must have been some standard to Emily, so he answered honestly, “I did once. I met someone when I was in college and I brought her home with me for the weekend.”

  “Did your mother like her?”

  “Actually, she didn’t. Back then I thought she was against Robin for the same reason my father was. She came from a different side of life than I did. Her dad was the foreman in a clothing factory and her mother waited tables. My mother hadn’t smiled much that weekend. She’d been polite to Robin but not completely welcoming.”

  “You said ‘back then.’ Do you see another reason now?”

  “Maybe my mom saw a flaw in Robin that I didn’t.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Until now Brad had never told anyone what had happened. Today, though, looking into Emily’s honest face, he revealed, “My dad offered her money to stop seeing me. She took it and flew to the West Coast.”

  “Oh, Brad.”

  He shrugged. “I got over it. After all, I guess my father did me a favor if that’s all Robin cared about.”

  “Your father should have let you discover it on your own.”

  Because Emily said that with such certainty, Brad asked her, “You advocate the school of hard knocks?”

  “I’m not saying experience is the best teacher, but it’s a good teacher. We learn from our mistakes.”

  “Oh, I learned from my mistakes. After that I didn’t date girls from the wrong side of the tracks.”

  When he saw Emily’s expression, he immediately realized what he’d said and how she’d taken it. “Emily, I didn’t mean anything by that. That reference had nothing to do with you.”

  “My father was a blue-collar worker, too, but I don’t think degrees of wealth have anything to do with integrity and moral fiber. I understand that you didn’t want to risk the same thing happening again so it was easier to date women from the same circles you were in.”

  “Maybe I’m learning that was a mistake. Suzette had money of her own and now she’s asking for more. I should have realized sooner how to find a woman with integrity.”

  He wanted to tell Emily that she was a woman of integrity, but after the remark he’d made, she’d think he was just trying to mend fences. He knew exactly what she was thinking—he’d slept with her but he didn’t want to date her.

  “The crowd is thinning back there,” she said quickly in a soft voice.

  Longing to put his arm around her, he wanted to draw her close and kiss her forehead and tell her she was the sweetest woman he’d ever met, though the most frustrating, too, sometimes. But he didn’t have that freedom. Until this matter was settled with Suzette, Emily would believe he was an irresponsible playboy. Maybe he had been a playboy once, but this trip was changing his view of the world. And maybe it would change
him, too.

  After they walked to the vestibule, they waited until Tildy was finally alone.

  Approaching her, Emily said, “Happy birthday, Miss Matheson.”

  Tildy’s gray hair was straight and cut at her wrinkled double chin. She was stocky with substance to her and leaned on a cane. Her blue eyes twinkled as she asked, “Do I know you, child?”

  “No, you don’t. My name’s Emily Stanton and this is Brad Vaughn. Mark Anderson spoke about you to us, and we wanted to say hello.”

  “Well, how kind of you. So many people have wished me well today. If all their wishes would just take away my arthritis, I’d be the happiest old-timer in town. I can’t even do those front steps out there. I’ll have to go out the side. But I guess that’s a small price to pay for reaching eighty-five.”

  Brad stepped in then. “Actually, I tried to phone you this morning.”

  “You did? My niece picked me up to take me to breakfast before the service. In fact, I’m going home with her afterward. She’s driving me to Billings so I can spend time with my sister.”

  Frustrated, Brad felt as if they were being stalled on all fronts. “The reason Mark mentioned you to us, the reason I called, is because we wanted to talk to you about whatever you know concerning the Queen of Hearts gold mine.”

  Just then a woman who might be close to sixty came up to Matilda Matheson. “Aunt Tildy, we should go.”

  Tildy introduced her niece Amelia to them. Then, returning to their earlier conversation, she told Amelia, “They want to come by and chat. I imagine I’ll need to rest some when I get back on May twentieth. I don’t travel as well as I used to. How about the day after that? You could come for tea.”

  Although Brad had wanted to get this trip over with as soon as possible, the fates were conspiring against him. Maybe he should stop pushing and go with the flow. Maybe he’d find the deed before Tildy returned and he wouldn’t need to meet with her. However, keeping his options open, he said, “That will be fine. We’ll call you when you get back and set up a time.”

  Emily smiled at Tildy. “You have a wonderful trip, Miss Matheson.”

  “Call me Tildy.”

  “We’ll do that,” Emily assured her.

  As her niece took her arm and they walked back into the church to go out the side entrance, Emily asked, “We’re going to be here until May twentieth?”

  The twentieth was twelve days away. “I hope not. But it depends on how much progress we make. If you want to fly back to Chicago, I understand.”

  “No,” Emily said quickly. “I mean, I said I’d help you with this and I will. Besides, Thunder Canyon is growing on me.”

  He had to smile…because it was growing on him, too. And so was Emily Stanton.

  Chapter Seven

  “I’ve never ridden a horse!”

  As Emily stood looking up at the mount Caleb’s foreman had brought into the corral for her, she felt total dismay. “Do you go riding?” she asked Brad, who was standing beside her.

  “Not much anymore. I spent that summer in Montana years ago with a college friend. And I ride on vacations.”

  She fingered the camera strap on her shoulder. “I don’t know if I should do this. What if I’m—”

  “Pregnant?” Brad filled in, moving closer to her.

  She nodded.

  “You don’t have to go riding. Don’t do it just to impress Caleb. But if you want a taste of the experience, I’ll help you into the saddle, and we can just walk our horses.”

  Thinking about it, she rolled the idea over in her mind. She’d heard that sitting on a walking horse felt the same as being in a rocking chair. Probably she’d never have the chance for this experience again. “Walking should be safe enough.”

  She glanced at the mount Caleb had chosen for her, a very old bay gelding named Calypso. “I’d like to try it. Maybe I can take more film of this beautiful scenery.”

  The foreman motioned to her to come closer to the barn. He’d left a hay bale there and was holding the horse beside it.

  Brad’s hand was on her shoulder as they approached Calypso, and she liked the feel of it there. Brad was so different here than in Chicago. Here he was a real person, not a rich man in a suit who could get whatever he wanted.

  After she handed her camera to the foreman, she stepped up onto the hay bale. With care, Brad showed her how to put her foot in the stirrup and how to swing her leg over. In a matter of seconds, she was sitting in the saddle, feeling as if she were on top of the world. The horse lifted his head and then lowered it again.

  Brad advised her, “Take the reins and get a feel for them. If you pull back, he’ll stop. If you loosen them, he’ll put his head down or go.”

  “Pressure on his flanks with your feet will also help push him forward,” the foreman explained. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

  Clearing her throat, she said to Brad again, “I just want to go slow. Nothing fast.”

  His gaze met hers and she saw that he understood.

  When the foreman handed her her camera, she slipped the strap over her head.

  As she did that, she noticed Brad running his hand up and down her horse’s nose, scratching between his ears. He was comfortable with the animal. Too well she could remember him touching her. Her cheeks heated up and she took the reins in both hands.

  A few minutes later, when Brad climbed into his saddle, Emily realized he more than remembered how to ride a horse. He looked as if he belonged on one.

  After Caleb and Adele joined them in the corral, they mounted their horses. Adele rode a gray that was about the size of Emily’s horse, while Caleb and Brad’s steeds were larger and chestnut brown.

  The walking motion of the horse was soothing. Emily felt more confident as the clip-clop of Calypso’s hooves mingled with the lowing of nearby cattle and the chirping of birds. For a while they rode along the trail that followed the fence line. The scenery was awesome. Some of the ground was still snow-covered in shaded patches, and the firs were high against the immense blue canopy of sky. Breathtaking mountains stood in the distance, and Emily considered the fact that she certainly couldn’t see scenery like this in Chicago.

  When she glanced at Brad riding next to her, she felt a thrill just being here with him. She was actually glad they couldn’t talk to Tildy until she returned. Emily wanted more time here with Brad.

  When she heard the growl of an engine somewhere in the distance, she automatically gripped her reins tighter.

  “You said you were in Montana years ago?” she asked Brad.

  “On a ranch north of Billings.

  “You seem to like it here a lot. Why didn’t you ever come back?”

  When Brad didn’t answer, she glanced over at him.

  The wind tossed his horse’s mane, and he looked very somber when he finally responded, “I came out here that summer with a friend, James Lawson. We were roommates in college. I had to make some money, and jobs in Chicago were scarce and boring. I saw an ad in a magazine. The ranch needed hands and the pay wasn’t too bad. It included room and board, so anything we made was pure profit. I think that summer was one of the most enjoyable of my life.”

  “Then why haven’t you returned?” she asked again.

  “When James and I were seniors, he found out he had leukemia. A year and a half later he was gone. I don’t think I ever wanted to come back here without him.”

  Now she understood Brad’s reluctance to return to a beautiful place where he’d only remember loss. His life hadn’t been a joyride, either, and maybe that’s why he kept emotional barricades in place. She felt as if she was really getting to know him now. “I’m sorry you lost him.”

  When Brad didn’t respond, Emily understood that his loss hadn’t diminished with time.

  Up ahead Caleb and Adele crossed an access road. “I’m holding you back,” she said to Brad. “If you want to ride ahead…”

  “No. This pace is fine. I’m learning all over again how it feels to relax. This has g
ot to be the best way to do it. If you want to snap photos, I’ll hold your horse.”

  Drawing up beside her, he took her reins while she lifted her camera from around her neck and took one shot after another. Suddenly she turned toward him and began snapping.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You’re part of the scenery.”

  He shook his head. “That’s enough, then, if you can’t find anything better than me.” When he handed her back her reins, their hands brushed and she gazed up into his eyes.

  He said simply, “I’m glad you’re here with me, Emily.”

  Not knowing how to react to that, she started her horse walking again, reins in one hand, her camera in the other.

  The rumbling of a car grew louder and Brad frowned. “Whoever that is, they’re going much too fast—”

  The topless blue Jeep raced into view, speeding along on the gravel access road. It was occupied by four men wearing large hats. Immediately Emily stopped her horse. But before she knew what had happened, the Jeep backfired once, then again. Her mount reared up and took off at a run. When her camera fell to the ground, she hung on to the reins, scared out of her wits. Instinctively she wrapped the reins around one hand, trying to hang on yet pull back at the same time to make Calypso stop.

  Nothing worked.

  As she joggled in the saddle, suddenly Brad was racing beside her. He couldn’t seem to catch Calypso’s halter, so instead…

  She felt more than saw him as he leaned closer to her and wrapped his arm around her. But as he pulled her away from her horse, her hand was still wound up in her reins and she felt her wrist wrench sideways.

  Pain shot up her arm.

  While Brad held on to her, she frantically wiggled her fingers. Finally the reins loosened, fell away, and Calypso raced ahead of them.

  Practically in Brad’s lap now, she held her breath until his horse stopped. Then he let her slide gently to the ground. Her legs were shaking so badly, she sank down onto the damp earth, trying to gulp in air as she heard the fading sound of Calypso’s hooves.