Montana Dreams

by Jillian Hart

  “I’ll take both, Mom.” He hefted the second sack from her, clomped up the steps and wrestled open the screen door. Once he was inside, the homecare worker rose from the swing.

  “I’m sorry.” The lady who’d introduced herself as Rosa when she’d arrived in the morning slipped her hands into her pockets, looking worse for wear. “I’ll get back to work.”

  “It’s okay. Everyone needs a break. Especially from my father.”

  “He’s a difficult patient.” Rosa squared her shoulders. “But it’s my job to deal with him. I only needed a little fresh air.”

  She likely needed more than that, judging by the strain on her face. Millie wondered what her father had said or done, then again, did she really want to know? “Why don’t you take a few more minutes? I know what he’s like.”

  “My shift is almost over, so I should get back.” The woman slid past her, walking quickly to return to her duties. “Caitlin will be the next shift nurse. I’ll leave some notes for her so she’s prepared.”

  “Thank you, Rosa.” Whatever Dad had done, she prayed it wasn’t bad enough to drive away the nursing care he needed. She followed the nurse’s aide into the house, stopping to glance toward the kitchen to check on her son. He was dutifully putting away a gallon jug of milk into the fridge.

  “It’s about time. I’ve been waiting.” Whip’s scolding tone boomed through the house, obviously aimed at Rosa. “Get your wide butt to the kitchen and fetch me some juice.”

  That man and his cruel tongue. Millie pounded down the hall. “Simon, go outside and play. Now.”

  “Okay.” A few beats more and the back screen snapped shut, meaning he was safely out of earshot. She rounded the corner and skidded to a stop at the mess her father had made of the room. What had happened here?

  “I’m sorry, Millie.” Rosa picked up a piece of a shattered mug on the carpet. “He did this when I was buttering his toast. I came back from the kitchen to this.”

  “This is why you needed a moment on the porch. Completely understandable.” Millie blew out her breath, taking it all in. The chicken noodle soup dripping down the wall, noodles stuck to the frame of the television set. The remote control in pieces. The broken dishes, juice glass and orange stain on the rug. Books from the nightstand lay hazard and open on the floor, spines broken and pages bent.

  “Stupid, lazy woman, are you deaf?” Red flushed Whip’s face. “Go get my juice.”

  If only there was a pill to make him nicer. All the prayer in the world couldn’t help him because behaving this way was Dad’s decision. She gently took the shards from Rosa. “Why don’t you pour both of us a glass of iced tea? I’ll be out in a moment.”

  “If you think that’s best.” Rosa pursed her lips, saying nothing more as she slipped from the room.

  “Where did you find that one?” Whip demanded. “Someone ought to light a fire under her butt. She’s slow and as dumb as a rock—”

  “That’s enough.” Millie gathered the last chunk of what used to be a coffee cup handle, overwhelmed by the mess. She pushed off the floor, wishing she was back in Portland with such force that the room in front of her blurred. “Stop treating Rosa that way. I can’t take care of you by myself and run the dairy. It’s too much for one person.”

  “You don’t want to do any work, you mean.” His craggy face wreathed with rancor. “You always were lazy, girl. Good for nothing.”

  He was dying. What was the use in arguing? An argument was what he wanted to start and she wanted to avoid. Keeping her mouth tightly clamped, she left the room. Whip’s temper flared again and he spewed a string of curse words, each more offensive than the last. She closed the door, muffling it, and joined Rosa in the kitchen.

  “I upped his pain medication to the highest allowable, but it did not seem to help.” Rosa held the pitcher in one hand and the refrigerator door in the other. In went the pitcher, the door swung shut. “I know he is in pain.”

  “Yes, but mostly he’s always been like that.” She glanced out the window searching for Simon. There he was, sitting on the back porch step. At least he’d been out of earshot for the worst of Whip’s tirade. “If you want to leave, I totally understand. I’ll explain to your supervisor.”

  “No, I want to stay. This assignment is close to home, which is nice for a change. Usually I wind up driving all the way to Bozeman.” Some of the strain slid off Rosa’s face as she took a sip of iced tea. “I can handle it.”

  “If you’re sure. The thing to know about my dad is that he says what he thinks will hurt the most. Which means his words are just a weapon he’s throwing, nothing more.”

  “I’ll try and remember. I’ve had patients like him before.” Rosa set down her glass. “You haven’t put your groceries away yet. Let me help.”

  “Not your job, thanks, and I’d rather you rested. You’ll need it for when we have to go back into that room.” Her father’s muffled curses continued to emanate from the hallway. He had everything he needed but a target for his bitterness. “I’m going to make banana bread. It’s not much, but I want to do something to thank the men who came over last night to help. We had a small barn fire, nothing serious, thanks to them.”

  “Oh, I love to bake. I have two girls, five and three, and I bring them into the kitchen and we measure flour and cream butter and have the sweetest time.”

  “It must be nice to have daughters, although I wouldn’t trade my Simon for the world.” The one great treasure in her life she thanked God for every day. Her gaze found him automatically. All she could see was the top of his head bob as he checked on the kitties hiding under the porch. She set down her glass. “Okay, I’m ready to face Dad. I’ll take him his juice.”

  “Better get a cup that can’t break.”

  “My thought exactly.” Millie thought she felt the Lord’s touch on her shoulder, the reassurance she needed to keep going.

  Seeing her father through the end of his life wasn’t going to be easy. But it was the right thing to do.

  * * *

  “Thanks for helping clean up.” The minister opened his car door in the parking lot, where the sun’s heat bounced off the blacktop, cooking them both.

  “My pleasure.” Hunter dived into his pocket for his keys and came up empty. Millie had them, but she hadn’t given him a set in return. No matter. “Let me know if you need help setting up for the next one.”

  “Will do. Are you doing all right with Millie back in town?” Concern and an invitation to listen softened the man’s voice. Tim was a good guy, but there was no reason for him to be concerned.

  “I’m great. Why wouldn’t I be?” He tried to sound casual, backing toward the street. “Have a good one, Tim.”

  “You, too.”

  Alone again, he had time to think. His self-revelation remained at the back of his mind, as irritating as a pebble in his shoe. Fine, so he kept a distance from everyone, letting them in only so close. So, nothing was wrong with that. It was a free country, and it was his choice. The thing was, he’d never thought to look at it from Millie’s view. She’d been young and vulnerable when he’d pushed her away ten years ago, and he’d hurt her. He’d only been trying to protect himself, but that didn’t change the pain done to her. Not that it excused her behavior, but he understood why she’d run straight into another man’s arms.

  “Hey, there you are!” Brandi looked up from her paperback. Sitting on the shady grass, with her platinum hair tied back, she looked as sweet as pie. Hard to believe she would be graduating from college soon, all grown up already. She closed her book. “Ready to go?”

  “As soon as I can find the spare key.” He yanked open the unlocked driver’s door.

  “It’s in the ashtray.” Brandi bounded up, swiped away bits of grass and hopped over to the truck. “Millie told me before she left.”

  “That
makes it easier.” He gave the ashtray a hard yank to reveal the key. He had a lot to get done before the sun set. “I doubt Luke remembered his promise to drop the flashing off at Millie’s. Did he say anything to you? His mind is mush lately.”

  “No. Love will do that to you.” Brandi buckled in. “Why are you scowling?”

  “I’m not. Why bother? There’s no use to it. Luke has fallen into the trap and no one can get him out.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you about romance in general, but every once in a while—” she paused while the engine rolled over with a roar “—the fairy tale happens. Not to me, but to some people. I’m thinking this time it’s happened to Luke and Honor.”

  “Humph.” Because the minivans had cleared out and he had the entire length of the street, he put the truck into gear and pulled away from the curb. The engine backfired, echoing like a gunshot along the quiet street. The air-conditioner gave a hot puff, so he rolled down his window. Air whooshed into the cab, ruffling bits of hay and grain and sending hayseed flying. A crackle of paper caught his attention, but it was Brandi who snatched it from midair.

  “Oh, it must be Millie’s. A to-do list. I’ll keep it for her.”

  “Give it here.” He grabbed it. Sure enough that was Millie’s elegant script on the back of an empty envelope. A long list—correct that, an overwhelming list. Not that it was any of his business, but did that stop him from folding it into his shirt pocket? No. He was troubled by the reason why.

  Brandi’s phone chimed. She whipped it out of her pocket and bent over the screen, smiling at whatever the text said. Probably from one of their sisters. Her thumbs tapped out an answer, keeping her busy while the small town rolled by and turned to ranching country. Cattle grazed, fields of wheat and hay and corn baked in an unrelenting sun and the Wilson dairy rolled into view. He pulled into the driveway and parked next to his truck.

  “Hi.” Simon popped out of the grass, his glasses askew. “You have a cool pickup.”

  “Thanks.” His boots hit the ground. “Did you try the sound system? It rocks.”

  “No. Mom wouldn’t let me touch anything.” Simon grinned, wide and easily, just the way Millie did.

  He couldn’t hold a grudge against a child; that wasn’t right. It wasn’t Simon’s fault his mother had chosen another man. “That’s a mom for you. What are you up to?”

  “I was trying to make friends with Shadow and Smokey, but they didn’t want to.”

  “They haven’t had much reason to trust people before this. Just give them time.” He slammed the groaning door shut, the impact made rust crumble off into the grass. How much longer the truck lasted was anyone’s guess. “So, are you having fun around here?”

  “No.” Simon shrugged. “Grandpa has the only TV and he doesn’t share.”

  “Sounds just like Whip.” Hunter glanced over his shoulder, nodded to Brandi to follow. “There used to be an old tire swing on the maple tree outback.”

  “That’s what Mom said when we first got here, but when we looked, there was just the tire leaning against the tree.”

  “Maybe I can find some rope in the barn. We’ll see what I can rig up.”

  “Really? That would be sweet.” Simon fell in alongside him, working to keep up with Hunter’s longer gait.

  He shortened his stride. Okay, maybe he liked the kid. “We have an extra horse that came with the dairy when Luke and I bought it. Mrs. Hoffsteader used to keep him for her grandkids to ride, but they grew up. Why don’t you ask your mom if it would be okay for me to bring over Sundae?”

  “Really? Honest? Do you mean it? Like I could ride him and everything? I’d take really good care of him. Honest. I know I can talk Mom into it. I’m pretty good at that.”

  “I’m sure you are.” It really was hard not to like this kid. “I’ll throw in a bag of grain and bring over a truckload of alfalfa. How’s that? But you would have to take care of him. I’d show you how.”

  “Okay. Maybe you could show me some other stuff. You know, like how to feed the cows and do the milking. I know I could do it.” He pushed up his taped-up and slightly crooked glasses. “Mom said she worked in the barn when she was younger than me.”

  “She did. I’d like to help you out, but the thing is, I know your mom doesn’t want you to work the way she did.” They’d crossed the road and stepped into the barn, so his words echoed a bit in the rafters. “Besides, your mom has me and other neighbors to help out. You don’t need to worry about it.”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Brandi chimed in from inside the office. “I like to make myself useful.”

  “Impossible.” Hunter winked at her. “There’s no use for you.”

  “So I’ve been told.” With a grin, she plopped into the desk chair to pull on her boots. “Hey, what are you two up to? Try and stay out of trouble, you hear?”

  “Hard to say. There’s no telling what Simon and I are up to.” His boots thudded on the concrete as they entered the spotless milking parlor, empty for now. Milton hadn’t arrived yet. He took a moment to pull out Millie’s to-do list. Number one, batteries in the smoke detectors. Number two, haystack has got to go.

  That didn’t surprise him. Those were on his list, too.

  “Hey, that’s my mom’s.” Simon studied him from behind lenses. “Why do you have it?”

  “I want to do a few things for her.” Judging by the look of the kid, he wasn’t going anywhere soon. May as well accept it. “Do you want to help?”

  “Sure!”

  “Then let’s head around the corner to my place. I could use help loading up my truck. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Looked like he had a little partner. He pulled out his phone to text Millie that he was taking off with her kid.

  * * *

  “It’s good to know you had no problem going out and having fun, and all with a clear conscience, when I’m laying here dying.” Whip hit mute on his newly repaired remote, currently held together by electrical tape, and squinted at her. “Have a good time?”

  “I stayed for Simon’s sake.” She wrung out the rag in the sudsy bucket and ignored her cell’s chime. Probably Hunter letting her know he and Simon were back. “Would you like more juice?”

  “What I want is for this cancer to go away. I feel like cr—”

  “Stop swearing, Dad,” she interrupted, scrubbing the wall with all her might.

  “Oh, you find that offensive, and yet it doesn’t bother you having that kid out of wedlock?” He snorted, amused by that. “Not surprised. That’s a good Christian for ya.”

  Her father, the man who believed there was no God, did and said exactly what he wanted to without conscience or concern for anything else. Her jaws locked together and it took all her effort not to rise to his bait. Not exactly easy. Sure, he was in pain and had to be afraid, but that couldn’t excuse the things he said. She tossed the rag in the pail and grabbed the handle. Enough was enough. Maybe it’d be easier to come back when he was sleeping.

  “You know Sara Thomas’s girl? You used to babysit her.” A spiteful grin twisted Whip’s hard mouth. “She started running around and got herself a brat out of marriage. She grew up to be just like you.”

  Another word bomb meant to devastate, but did he really think his twisting of the truth could hurt her? Not when she knew what had really happened. She marched from the room, ignoring his snort of pleasure and closed the door. She’d had all she could take of him for a while. She glanced at the kitchen clock on her way to the sink.

  “This should take the sting out of him.” Rosa counted out Dad’s round of medication, the pills clacking on the tray. “At least for a little while.”

  “It’s almost time for you to go home. I’m guessing you can’t wait to get out of here.”

  “I won’t lie to you and say differently.
” Rosa smiled beautifully, a lovely woman with soft brown curls and melted chocolate eyes. “I promised my little ones pizza tonight. Going to pick it up on the way home.”

  “Does the diner still make to-die-for pepperoni?”

  “Yes, and they’ve added cheese bread to their menu. If you pick up a pizza for your boy sometime, don’t forget to get an order. It’s amazing.”

  “Good to know.” She upended the bucket with a splash and gave it a good rinse. “Every now and then, I get a craving for cheesy bread.”

  “Who doesn’t?” Rosa found a plastic glass in the cupboard and plopped it onto the faded counter. “Someone just drove in.”

  “Okay.” She dried her hands, listening to the clunk of a car door slamming shut. “Maybe it’s Milton, although it’s a little early for milking and he usually parks at the barn. I’d better go see what’s up.”

  Curiosity drove her through the house. Three trucks were lined up in the driveway. She spotted her dad’s truck first, next to Hunter’s parked in the shade of the house. When did he get here? Although with the way Dad had been carrying on, she wouldn’t have noticed a meteor crashing to earth in the neighboring field.

  “Hi, Millie.” Cal, the owner of the third truck, tipped his hat. “I would have parked at the barn, but there was no room.”

  “It’s okay. If you’ve come about your paycheck, I still can’t make good on it.” The screen door clicked shut behind her as she stepped into the heat and sun. “I’d pay you if I could.”

  “That’s not why I’m here.” The ranch hand, in his mid-thirties, dressed in a simple white T-shirt and worn jeans, gestured across the road. “Hunter rounded up a few of us to help out.”

  “What?” She hopped down the steps, rounded the lilac bush blocking her view and saw pickups parked end on end, crowded around the front of the barn. Voices carried as truck doors shut and her neighbors called out to one another.