Home on the Range

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Good morning! Good morning! Good morning! Bawk!” Hoyl hopped along his perch, wings flapping, feathers out, as if dancing.

  “That is a crazy bird, Elsa.”

  “He thinks he’s Mandisa.” She hummed a few bars of the singer’s popular hit tune. “I haven’t got the heart to tell him he doesn’t sound anything like her.”

  “I’ll see you this afternoon. With two kids.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  She shouldn’t be excited about seeing him.

  She was.

  The thought energized her. She pulled the living room apart and gave it a thorough cleaning, windows and all, and by the time she got the room put back together with the windows thrown open, fresh air invigorated the surroundings.

  She pulled a half-dozen planters out of the small shed behind the house and lugged them to the front yard. She’d known they were there last summer, but she’d left them in the dark shed purposely. Now she hosed them off, set them around, and added potting soil to her shopping list.

  A few weeks ago the idea of a shopping list would have meant hours of mental preparation. Now it seemed almost normal.

  Because you’ve taken steps forward, on your own. Welcome back. And let me just say…it’s about time.

  It was, and she couldn’t even hate her conscience for the slightly mocking tone because it felt good to be teased. She showered and changed before the girls’ arrival, and when Nick hopped out of the truck, he smiled at her.

  And she smiled back.

  “Elsa!” Dakota raced her way and hugged her legs. “I’ve been wanting to see you!”

  “And here I am.” She squatted to bring herself down to Dakota’s level. “How are things, Toots?”

  “So good.” Dakota held up her fingers and ticked them off individually. “First, I got two stickers on my paper because I got done first and had everything right.”

  “Bonus!”

  Dakota grinned. “Yes! And then my kitten threw up on the couch and Daddy didn’t get mad. He just said babies do that sometimes and we cleaned it up.”

  “Wise words,” Elsa noted, and she slanted a quick smile up at Nick.

  He shrugged, humble, but his expression said he’d aced the moment.

  “And then we’re here!” She spun around, nearly smacking Elsa in the face, and when Nick took Elsa’s arm to help her stand back up, something clicked again, as if it was right to have his help. “Can I stay?”

  “May I stay,” Elsa corrected her mildly. “And the answer tonight is no, but…” She angled a frown down when Dakota started to whine. “I’m coming over to the ranch on Saturday to do some schoolwork. Would you like to do some schoolwork with us?”

  “I love schoolwork so much!”

  Cheyenne snorted. Elsa ignored her rude reaction and palmed Dakota’s head. “It’s a date. I’ll be there for a while, and maybe one of these times you guys can show me the ranch. When the weather’s nice.”

  “We can do that Saturday!” Dakota aimed excited eyes up at Nick and grabbed his legs. “Right, Dad? If it’s nice out?”

  “Not this Saturday, sweet pea.” Regret deepened his voice. “I’m working on the ranch because Colt and Murt are on the church work crew from one until dark,” he added. “How about if we all meet at church on Sunday and then go back to the ranch and we can show you around. Would that work, Elsa?”

  It would if she accepted the invitation. She’d stayed away from church for a long time. The insensibility of a loving God versus evil men left her angry. If man was created in God’s image, why did humans have such a hard time choosing good over evil?

  “I can show you the kitties and our dogs!” Dakota let go of Nick’s legs and did a little dance. “BeeBee and Kita are going to have puppies soon!”

  Puppies.

  She bent low again, excited by the prospect of puppies, of new life. “My mom used to breed dogs when I was little. She let me help take care of the dogs and help with the birthing, Dakota. I absolutely, positively love puppies. Like this much.” She spread her arms wide. Dakota grinned and a slight smile softened Cheyenne’s features momentarily.

  Nick lifted one brow as he waited for her decision. He didn’t push, didn’t encourage. He simply waited, and that made all the difference.

  “Let’s see how Saturday goes, okay?” She couldn’t pretend she was too busy for Sunday, because the fact that she did little was obvious.

  “Sure. And bring Achilles along.”

  She had planned to bring him, but would he behave in new surroundings? “He’s not cattle savvy.”

  Nick shrugged. “Does he come when you call him?”

  “Most of the time.” She stretched out the word most, and he laughed.

  “There’ll be plenty of us on hand to keep an eye on him. And he might like a chance to run in the sun.”

  He probably would, Elsa decided. She’d kept him shadowed, just like she’d kept herself in obscurity. Nick didn’t press. He didn’t sound disappointed. He sounded strong and hopeful.

  She liked that. “Cheyenne, I’m going to have you help me clear out that shed. You left your good clothes at home, right?”

  “Yes. Aren’t there laws about this? Against child labor?” the bright girl asked. “I think there are.”

  “Not when it falls under the heading of therapeutic endeavors,” Elsa assured her. “Grab some gardening gloves from that box. You and I are going to put the finishing touches on an in-depth research study I call ‘work therapy.’ ”

  “Are there spiders?”

  “Quite possibly.”

  “Great.” Cheyenne pulled on the gloves as she turned back to Nick and Dakota. “I’ll see you guys in an hour. If I survive.”

  Nick watched Cheyenne tug the grungy gloves into place. He looked surprised but backed toward the truck, smiling. “You’ve got this?”

  “I do.”

  “Okay, then.” He waved, helped Dakota up, then waited while she fastened her seat belt before he backed around and pulled away.

  Elsa watched them go. Dakota leaned way up in her seat and waved good-bye.

  Cheyenne ignored her.

  Elsa waved back.

  As they crested the slope leading onto the logging path, Nick turned. When he saw her watching, he paused the truck and smiled. Just that, as if seeing her with his daughter was something to smile about.

  “I’m ready.”

  “Me too,” Elsa replied, but was she?

  Maybe. Maybe not. But she wanted to be ready, and that was half the battle.

  Nick pulled into Josh Washington’s driveway, grabbed his house plans, and waited while Dakota undid her latches. Once done, she hopped out behind him. “Well done.” He high-fived her before she raced to the backyard to see what Josh’s kids were shrieking about as Josh moved his way.

  “Hey, Dakota.”

  “Hey!” She dashed by him and disappeared through the wooden gate.

  “Do we dare trust them out there?”

  “Sammy Jo’s back there. She knows we’re going over plans so she got her homework done early.”

  “I owe her.”

  “I promised her a chance to help build this summer.”

  “For real?”

  Josh nodded, firm. “She looks like her mother, but she’s got a builder’s blood and she loves jumping in on jobs. So she’ll crew with me on the housing project at the lower end of town. And that child has a way with fine carpentry. Pretty amazing, and patient, besides.”

  “I think it’s great,” Nick replied as he thought of all the stumbling blocks he’d put in Cheyenne’s path the past three years. Why hadn’t he recognized that God and nature had created her to be unique, and everything else built from there? He laid out the plans on Josh’s extrawide worktable, and as they talked, Josh jotted notes in the margins and at specific spots on the house plans.

  “How soon can the logs be delivered?”

  “Late July.”

  Josh shook his head. “Can’t do it then, Nick. I
never turn down work, but with the repairs and rebuilds to the houses in town and overseeing the church project, I can slip in small jobs here and there, but there’s no time to get to a new build like this until October. That spring fire caused a lot of damage and spurred two things. A whole bunch of insurance claims and more work than my crew and I have seen in years.”

  October?

  In his head, he and the girls would have been moved in by October.

  “I don’t want to hold you up,” Josh went on. “If you need to pull in someone else to do this job, I understand, Nick. No offense taken.”

  Josh had worked in this town since he was a kid at his father’s side, doing odd jobs. He’d stayed through thick and thin. He’d married a great gal, had a wonderful family, then lost his wife to cancer two years before. And when Nick was a gangly high school freshman, it was Josh who schooled him under Coach Irvine’s direction on how to pump fake, pivot, and deliver a perfect shot to the hoop, nothing but air.

  Nick shook his head. “We’ll hold back until you can fit us in, Josh. I’ve waited this long; a few months won’t matter. I want the best, and that’s you.”

  Appreciation softened Josh’s dark-toned features. “Sounds good. Can I make a couple of suggestions?”

  Nick nodded.

  Josh pointed to the plans. “You nearly double your living space if you make this a walk-out basement by moving the house to the crest of the slope.” Josh pointed to the lowest level of the plans.

  Nick whistled lightly. “I hadn’t thought of that, and a finished basement like my father’s would be great. I’ve never liked that our house in town is on a slab.”

  “Newer builds have done a lot of that,” Josh remarked. “Especially as you head east and the state gets drier.”

  “I didn’t realize how handy a basement was until I didn’t have one.” Nick began unpinning the set of plans.

  “Do you have more than one copy?” Josh paused him and tapped the house plans.

  “I do.”

  “Leave this one here. I can wrap my head around how I want things done with a visual. That’s been one of the toughest things about jumping in so fast with the church project. Hurrying isn’t my style, but I’ve never seen so many folks work together to get a job done. It’s like an old-fashioned barn raising, and your brother’s been on hand real regular. Of course, he’s waiting on the church for a wedding, and a wedding can push a man to speed, sure enough.”

  “I figured the church was keeping you crazy busy. I’d be here more often, but Colt and I decided I’d take lead at the ranch and he’d put in more time down here.” Josh lived a scant two blocks from the big fire that had raged through town that spring, a fire that consumed multiple buildings, including the original Grace of God Community Church. “I know my father has you putting in a lot of hours over there.”

  “I am,” Josh agreed. “With your father’s funding, we’ll have the exterior done soon, and we’re subcontracting a lot of the interior work. That fire destroyed a great deal, but these unexpected jobs will keep food on my table for the next year. With money tight and so many folks not liking change and mad about most everything, life was looking mighty grim a few months ago.” He lifted his chin and stared out the front window overlooking the small western town. “I don’t mind admitting I cried the night of that fire,” he added honestly. “Susan and I got married in that church. We’ve been raising our children there, going to services, being involved. Watching it burn was like a knife in the back.”

  “It shook my father the same way,” Nick told him.

  “I wouldn’t have thought I’d have much in common with Sam Stafford, but when you lose someone you love and watch the memories burn away, well…” Josh shrugged. “It’s a rough go. The fire wiped out part of my family’s history. But now?” He nodded to Nick’s plans and pointed to a jam-packed bulletin board hanging on the far wall next to the landline phone. “I’m hip deep in work, I’m scheduling into fall and winter, and I’m hiring crews, which means a big boost for our local economy. Out of bad came good.”

  Nick had spent the last years being a churchgoing man to set a good example for his girls. He wanted to believe in something bigger, grander, and kinder than mortal man. Faith in God wasn’t easy to swallow, and faith in people was tougher yet, and that went right back to his mother and his wife, walking out the door and never once looking back.

  Was it people who turned the bad around for good? Was it God? Or was it the combination of faith-filled people working for God?

  He had no answer, but working side by side as the town came together to rebuild, he’d gotten to know more folks than he had in all his growing-up years, and he liked it. For the first time in years he felt like he might be where he was supposed to be. “Let me know when the excavation crew is coming in, and I’ll make sure nothing’s in the way.”

  “I’ll order the survey done and the utilities to be flagged,” Josh replied. “And I’ll note which trees you want left untouched. Digging might damage roots to some, and they might not all survive, but we’ll trim out as needed once the structure’s complete.” Josh stuck out his hand. “Good doing business with you, Nick.”

  “Same here.”

  Dakota fussed at having to leave, but Nick stood his ground. “We’ve got to pick your sister up at Elsa’s place. Let’s go.”

  “And then Elsa’s coming to our house on Saturday!” She caroled the words as if singing in a musical.

  “Well, the ranch,” he corrected her. He realized he didn’t want Elsa to see them at the house on West Chelan Pass. He wanted her to see them where they belonged, at the Double S.

  He pulled into her yard, hoping Cheyenne wasn’t quite ready to leave, but she was. She’d tugged a sweatshirt over her lightweight top, and as she went to remove it, Elsa waved her off. “Wear it home. I’ll get it on Saturday.”

  Cheyenne grinned in delight, an expression Nick hadn’t seen much of lately. He missed her bright, crinkled eyes and her cute, winning smile. “Thank you, Elsa! I had fun!”

  She enjoyed cleaning out a shed?

  Normally Nick would have a hard time believing that, but Cheyenne’s expression confirmed her words. She climbed into the truck, humming, fastened her belt, and didn’t say one mean thing to Dakota. That was worth some therapy right there. He leaned out his window before he backed the truck around. “Nine thirty Saturday, right?”

  “I’ll be there.” She met his gaze straight on.

  “Much obliged.” He lifted his cowboy hat in a little salute. “See you then.”

  Elsa steered her car past a small back-to-basics-style Christmas tree farm, hooked a right turn, then stopped on the long, winding gravel driveway.

  She’d grown up on a northwestern ranch, surrounded by hills and fields of hay and corn, but nothing like this.

  The Double S fanned out above and beyond her, stretching to either side, dwarfing other local farms she’d seen along the way. Massive barns extended along the stone drive to her left, while acres of pastureland rolled east. Green hills rose successively above the sprawling two-story cedar-sided house facing the daily sunrise.

  Gorgeous.

  Patterns emerged in her artistic mind, fields below giving way to pastureland in a patchwork landscape, utterly beautiful.

  Above the main-level barns were higher elevation pastures, dotted with trees, merging forest and farm into a blended existence teeming with cattle.

  Rachel had said the Stafford holdings were impressive. She’d alluded to money, but nothing the elementary school principal had said prepared Elsa for the stunning natural beauty that lay before her. She breathed deep, put the car back into gear, and parked it in the shaded area at the far side of the ranch house. Before she was able to exit the car, Cheyenne, Dakota, and an adorable little boy raced her way down the broad concrete walk.

  “I’m so glad you’re here!” Cheyenne grabbed one hand.

  Dakota clutched the other. “Me too!”

  The little guy kind
of stared at each of them, then her, then shrugged and stuffed little hands into tiny blue jean pockets, total boy. “Hi.”

  Irresistible seemed to be a Stafford trend. “Hi. I’m Elsa.”

  He peeked up at her as a dark-haired woman stepped outside the door and crossed the wide porch. “Elsa?”

  She nodded and moved forward, a kid on each side and one in front. “Yes.”

  “I’m Angelina, the house manager and Noah’s mother.” She swept the boy a fond look. “And I get to ride herd on these two regularly.”

  “And she’s going to marry Uncle Colt as soon as the church is built,” bragged Cheyenne. “Uncle Colt works on the church every chance he can because he says the waiting is just about killing him.”

  “Is it now?” Elsa exchanged a look with Angelina and decided she liked this woman instantly when Angelina rolled her eyes.

  “You will soon find that handling men around here is not unlike handling children or cattle. Of course, that might be more Stafford than gender,” Angelina mused with a skeptical smile. “I’m still deciding that issue.”

  “A wicked combination either way, darlin’.” The screen door opened and a broad-shouldered, square-jawed cowboy stepped out, grinning. “Dr. Andreas, I’m Colt Stafford. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Elsa, please.”

  “Mighty pretty name for a mighty pretty gal, but I don’t expect my brother’s figured that out yet, has he?” He aimed a direct look over her head, and when Elsa turned, she wasn’t surprised to see Nick approaching. “He’s a little slow on the uptake.”

  “I thought you were meeting Murt and Ty?” Angelina asked, shooing Colt toward the stone drive. A cool breeze rolled down from the western hills. She crossed her arms over her chest and shivered. “Kiss me good-bye and head out so we can get our work done here. Men are a bother.”

  He didn’t look at all bothered by her words, and actually, neither did she, and when Nick’s brother kissed his fiancée good-bye, he left no doubt he was a man in love. “See you tonight. Love you.”

  “Me too.” She smiled as he crossed the graveled lot and climbed into an SUV with the Double S logo emblazoned on the front doors.