The Construction of Cheer

by Liz Isaacson

  A minute to breathe, yes. Maybe Cactus was his person, despite their age differences, and Bishop smiled as he read the text again. He looked up from his phone to find Mother’s eyebrow cocked at him, asking, Are you going to be on that thing the whole time?

  “Sorry, Mother,” he said, setting the phone face-down. “Now, tell me more about Donald, because I know you like him.”

  Chapter Eight

  Cactus Glover couldn’t help feeling like he was doing something wrong. He’d put his extra-wide-brimmed cowboy hat on for this trip to town, and he wasn’t even sure why. Who was he hiding from?

  Himself, that was who, and he frowned at the faint reflection of himself in the passenger window as Ace pulled into the tack and feed store.

  Cactus had mentioned that he needed to go on the family text, and the next thing he knew, Ace had set it up, claiming he needed to get down there too.

  As if driving thirty minutes to the town of Three Rivers was so dang hard for any of them to do.

  Cactus yawned, his all-nighter from a couple of days ago still dragging him down. He didn’t recover from anything as easily or as quickly as he once had. When he’d smashed his thumb while working on a cabin in January, it had taken a month for it to start to feel better.

  He glanced at the appendage now, where the nail was just barely starting to grow back in. The moment he’d turned forty, his eyesight had started to dwindle, and now that he’d be forty-four this year, he couldn’t do anything without lights bright enough to see from space.

  “Let’s go,” Ace said, getting out and slamming his door before Cactus had even registered that he’d parked. He strode away from the truck without waiting for Cactus, who narrowed his eyes at his cousin.

  “What is goin’ on with him?” he asked himself. He too got out of the truck and followed Ace, not really trying to keep up with him. He glanced left and right like he might try to rob the place and he wanted to make sure there weren’t any cops nearby.

  He wasn’t sure why this energy needled below his skin, only that it was there, and it was making him jumpy.

  Inside the tack and feed, he got his own cart, because Ace had conveniently disappeared. It was just as well, because Cactus needed new leather to make reins, and Ace needed chicken feed and goat pellets. The two items were on opposite sides of the store.

  Cactus started to relax as he went down the first aisle. He didn’t use shopping as therapy, but he did like looking at everything in the tack and feed. He liked to get raw leather and braid his own reins, though he could just buy a pair of ready-made leads.

  He needed something to keep his hands busy at night, which was why he’d learned to crochet, knit, and whittle over the years. He’d been braiding reins since the age of seven, when he’d sit beside his father and listen to him talk to Mother about the ranch, about their children, and about his dreams. Sometimes Uncle Bull would take Mother’s spot in the living room, the fireplace flickering onto their faces as Cactus kept his mouth closed and his hands busy.

  He was extraordinarily good at keeping quiet. He’d learned early on in his life that he didn’t have to talk all the time. Even if he disagreed, he could keep his thoughts to himself. He didn’t have to voice his opinion. He didn’t have to be heard.

  He thought of Bishop as he turned down the aisle filled with outdoor cooking equipment. The man’s birthday was coming up, and while Cactus wasn’t going to get him a heavy-duty Dutch oven, Bishop would probably like something new to make the family meals he, Etta, and Ida put together week after week a little easier.

  Cactus pulled out his phone and set himself a calendar reminder for the following day. Get Bishop something for his birthday. He looked up when he heard familiar laughter. His heartbeat bumped over itself while he first thought it was one of the women he’d chatted with over the past few months.

  “Don’t be stupid,” he muttered. He’d never spoken to them on the phone or in person. There was no way it could be one of them. There were only three, and Cactus wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong with each one to make them all eventually go silent.

  He’d concluded that he just wasn’t that interesting. Bishop had looked at one of his conversations, and he’d had nothing to say. No suggestions for what Cactus could’ve done differently.

  It had taken all of Cactus’s courage to show Bishop just one conversation, and he wasn’t putting himself through that again.

  He’d deleted his profile on the dating app, and since no one asked him what his plan was to meet a woman, he didn’t have to have one.

  The woman laughed again, and Cactus definitely knew her. He inched around the corner and looked down the aisle to find none other than Ace wearing a smile the size of Texas itself as he flirted with a pretty brunette.

  Of course, Cactus thought. Holly Ann Broadbent stood with one hand on Ace’s cart, clearly holding him in place. Cactus wasn’t sure why Ace and Holly Ann hadn’t worked out a few months ago. He was clearly smitten with her, and as she pealed out another round of laughter, it was obvious she was thrilled to be talking to Ace.

  He’d gotten her number at the Christmas movie three months ago. Cactus hadn’t followed up with him, so he wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. He relied on Bear and Bishop for the ranch gossip, and Bear was a poor choice as he hated drama and gossip as much as Cactus hated that he’d lost his infant son and then his wife.

  He pulled in a breath while he waited for the anger and humiliation to grip his heart. Today, though, it only blipped through him. The humiliation especially dried up quickly, and the anger felt more like a slow burn than the instant fury he’d experienced in the past.

  He pushed his cart past Ace and Holly Ann, whispering, “Bless him with whatever it takes to be happy.”

  That was all Cactus really wanted. For himself, for all of his family members, for everyone. Didn’t everyone deserve to have some measure of happiness?

  He couldn’t help thinking that perhaps he’d used up all the measure God was willing to give him. He’d had it all once. The wife. The child on the way. The ranch life he loved.

  It had been so long since any of that, Cactus wasn’t even sure what happiness felt like anymore.

  He made it to the leather section and picked out the strips he wanted. At the end of the aisle, several bridles had fallen to the floor, and Cactus bent down to pick them up.

  “Watch out!” someone called, and he looked up just in time to see a pig bearing down on him. “Grab him!”

  Cactus dropped the bridles and braced himself to get hit by the oinker. He thought for sure it would turn left—the only direction to go—before it would just ram into him.

  He thought wrong, and it just kept coming.

  He widened his stance a moment before the pig seemed to finally realize he was a person and not an escape route, and it tried to turn.

  His hooves slipped and slid, and Cactus grunted as he wrapped both arms around the ungulate and lifted the pink pig right up off its feet.

  Everything happened so quickly after that. “Thanks, Mister,” the man who’d called the warning said. He clipped a lead around the pig’s neck and added, “Clarence, you can’t run off in the store.”

  A worker arrived a few moments after the man, out of breath and wearing a hat very much like Cactus’s. He was an older gentleman, and he too scolded the pig. Cactus had no idea what had just happened, or how a pig called Clarence had come to be so clean—and on a leash.

  The man and the worker walked away as quickly as they’d come, both of them talking over the other, and Clarence trotted along beside them. He wasn’t a full-grown pig, but as Cactus turned back to the dropped bridles, his back estimated he’d lifted about a hundred pounds of pork.

  A groan came out of his mouth as he straightened, and he still had his hand on the bridles when a woman said, “Excuse me? Can you help me find the rabbit feed?”

  Cactus turned toward the angelic voice, his throat narrowing as he tried to pull in a breath. It was like t
rying to scuba dive with only a straw to breathe through, and he thought he might have wheezed.

  The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen stood in front of him, her red hair mixed with plenty of light brown. It fell to her shoulders, and framed her face perfectly. She looked at him with perfect hope in her blue-green eyes, and once Cactus looked there, he couldn’t look away.

  She carried a basket—as if that was all she needed to get rabbit feed—and wore a pair of jeans with a bright green sweater. A piece of vanilla cake sat across her chest, with a halo over the wide end with plenty of frosting.

  “Sure,” he said, completely abandoning his cart of leather straps. “The feed is over here.”

  A smile lit her face, and Cactus immediately started thinking of a way to find out who she was. Could he ask her name? Would she give him her number?

  All of the lessons Ace and Bishop had given him melded together, and Cactus looked over his shoulder as he walked. “How many rabbits do you have?”

  “Just two,” she said. She smelled like lemons and cupcakes, and Cactus absolutely had to have more of both in his life.

  “For now,” he said. “They tend to have a lot of babies.”

  “That they do,” she agreed, her voice like cool water on a hot day.

  “Have you owned rabbits before?”

  “No, sir,” she said. “And I guess they’re not really my rabbits.”

  He turned down the feed aisle, trying to look at her again. If he kept that up, he was going to fall down in front of her, and that would be more embarrassing than smelling like the pig he’d just wrestled.

  “They’re not?” He arrived in front of the rabbit feed and started scanning for the brand he’d use.

  “They’re my niece’s,” she said. “I told their father I’d help with them, and it was the only way he’d let them get the bunnies.” She smiled at Cactus, who forgot what he was doing for a moment.

  When he realized he’d posed as a tack and feed employee, he panicked. He had to get away from her before she realized he didn’t wear a name tag.

  “How old are they?” he asked, his throat so dry.

  “The rabbits or the nieces?” She grinned at him again, and Cactus almost wished she wouldn’t.

  He wasn’t going to blurt out anything embarrassing. He tucked all of that away, under his tongue, and looked at the feed again. “Both,” he said.

  “The rabbits are little,” she said. “Maybe a couple of months old? The nieces are six and seven.”

  If Cactus knew anyone in town, that might help him figure out who she was without having to come out and ask. “Baby rabbits,” he said. “You’ll want these smaller alfalfa pellets, I think.” He plucked a bag from the shelf and looked at her basket. It might fit in there, but it might not.

  “I probably needed a cart.” She put the basket down and took the bag from him. “How long does this last?”

  “Depends on what else you feed them,” he said. “They can eat all kinds of fruits and veggies.”

  “Mariah actually told me that.” She shifted the bag to rest on her hip, which curved in the most delicious way. Cactus yanked his eyes back to hers. “She’s one of the nieces.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Do you live with them?”

  “Down the street,” she said. “Don’t ask me where.” She trilled out a pretty little laugh. “We just moved here, and I have no idea which way to go when I leave here.”

  “Oh, so you’re new.” He kept his smile in place. “Well, welcome to Three Rivers, ma’am.” He reached up and tipped his hat at her. “That should last you a few weeks, at least. I’d give them kale and apples, some carrots, tops and all. They love blueberries too.”

  “These rabbits are going to eat better than I do.” The woman rolled her eyes, and Cactus sure did like her sense of humor. He liked her easy-going spirit. He had the distinct impression he should ask her if she was at least in her thirties, but he bit down on the question.

  “Anything else I can help you find?” he asked, and he wanted to stuff his boot in his mouth. He couldn’t be leading her all over the store, showing her their various products. Someone would catch him, and his ruse would be up.

  “No, this is all,” she said, stooping to pick up her basket, where she had a water bottle for a rabbit cage he hadn’t even seen before. “Thank you….” She looked at his shirt for that blasted name tag, and heat shot into Cactus’s face.

  “I’m Cactus Glover,” he said, extending his hand toward her to shake.

  Her hands were full, and she became flustered as she looked at his hand and tried to shift things around so she could shake it. In the end, she laughed as she simply dropped everything.

  “Willa Knowlton,” she said, finally shaking his hand. “My brother is the new pastor, and I’m here to do some stand-in preaching for him and to help take care of Pastor Summers.”

  “Oh, right,” Cactus said. He’d heard that Pastor Summers had fallen and been injured. He hadn’t been to church in a while, but as he gazed at Willa, he suddenly had a very good reason to go back.

  Stop staring.

  He wasn’t sure where the voice had come from, but he dropped his head and cleared his throat. “Let me take this up front for you.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” But she let him pick up the bag of feed. Then she bent to get the basket, she tucked her hair, and when their eyes met again, Cactus swore they had even more twinkle than before.

  Was she flirting with him? How could he possibly know?

  He walked her up front and set the rabbit pellets on the counter. “There you go, ma’am.”

  “Thank you,” she said, and he tipped his hat and walked away. He hadn’t gone far when she said, “You have very helpful employees here.”

  He increased his pace to get around the corner, and he’d just made it when the clerk said, “He doesn’t work for us.”

  “Don’t stop,” he muttered. “Don’t go back. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Do not stop.” He made it back to the leather section of the store, and by some miracle his cart was still there. He couldn’t just go back up front and check out, in case Willa was still there. So he turned his back on the rest of the store and huddled over his phone as if he had anyone to text.

  Instead, he opened his notes app and typed in Willa Knowlton. His pulse pounced against his ribcage just looking at the letters in her name.

  Now, he just had to figure out why he’d need to talk to her again, and how he’d get her number to do that.

  “There you are,” Ace said, and Cactus turned around. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He glanced down at the phone in Cactus’s hand. “Why didn’t you answer when I called?”

  “I didn’t get a call,” Cactus said. “There’s no service in this corner.”

  Ace looked in Cactus’s cart. “Did you get what you needed?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Are they really busy up front?”

  “No one,” Ace said. “I almost had them page you.”

  Cactus stared at him, horror moving through him.

  Ace laughed and shook his head. “Relax. I didn’t. But I’m ready to go.”

  “Yeah?” Cactus asked. “Did you get back in Holly Ann’s good graces?”

  “I—you—she just happened to be here.”

  Cactus grinned at him and grabbed onto his cart. “Right. You’re a really bad liar.” He led the way toward the front of the store to check out. “How did you know she’d be here?”

  “She works here,” Ace said. “So keep your voice down. I’ll tell you once we’re in the truck.”

  “Great,” Cactus said. “I have something to tell you too. We’ll get Bishop on speaker, because I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

  Chapter Nine

  Montana scrubbed the smoke and the last couple of days out of her hair and off her skin. Once she finished showering and had gotten dressed, she went into the kitchen to get another cup of coffee.

  “Morning, Aunt Jackie,” s
he said to her aunt, working over a journal at the kitchen table.

  She glanced up, her perpetual happiness radiating from her bright, dark brown eyes. “Morning, darling.” She got up and hugged Montana, who smiled and laughed as she put her arm around her aunt’s waist. “I’m glad you made it home okay.”

  “Me too,” Montana said, reaching for a mug as her aunt went back to the table. “Thanks for taking care of Aurora.”

  “Oh, we love having her here,” Aunt Jackie said. “Both of you.” She picked up her pencil again and got back to work.

  “Doing the scheduling?”

  “Yes,” she said with a sigh. “No matter what I do, someone will be upset.” She scratched in a couple more names. She struggled with the scheduling every month, but she was the one who’d taught Montana that everything worked out in the end.

  So when Montana said it this time, Aunt Jackie laughed with her. She put sugar and cream in her coffee and sat down across from her aunt and stirred her spoon through the dark light brown liquid.

  “I signed a contract at Shiloh Ridge Ranch,” she said. “Doing remodeling and rebuilds.”

  Aunt Jackie looked up, her eyes wide and sparkling. Joy filled them as she said, “Montana, dear, that’s wonderful.”

  “It’s a long commute.”

  “We’ll get Aurora off to school,” she said. “As I’m sure you’ll get up there early, especially as the summer months approach.”

  “I’m sure that’s true.” Montana started worrying about summer already, and not only because of the heat. Aurora would be fifteen by then, and there was nothing more dangerous than a teenager without something to keep her busy. Very, very busy.

  At the current moment, Montana didn’t have anything to keep Aurora busy in the summer. She also might not have a job then, either. She had no idea how long it would take to get the remodeling and rebuilding done at Shiloh Ridge, and a second pit opened in her stomach.