The Construction of Cheer

by Liz Isaacson

  I am grateful for the gift of forgiveness. I am grateful for my family and the time God has given me with them. Oh, how I wish I could have more, but I cannot.

  Please, watch out for Bishop. I fear for him the most, because we are so very important to one another, and he will need your champion heart in the days and years after I am gone.

  I leave you with the words of Grandmother, whom I know you loved.

  Do not stifle him. Do not stifle yourself, Bear. Do not stifle Bishop. Do not stifle that championship spirit you were named for.

  Embrace it, and you will never be led astray.

  I love you, and I pray that anything I have done that you resent or are bitter about will be forgiven in the future.

  Daddy

  Bear sobbed as he finished reading the letter, letting go of it with one hand as he released all the tension and nervousness from his body.

  He rarely cried, but the powerful emotions washing over him and through him could not be released any other way.

  Great sobs wracked his chest, and he thought he’d never get another proper breath. He missed his father so much that anger descended upon him that God had taken him so soon.

  Just as quickly as that had come, it all faded.

  Bear quieted, and he wiped his face clean and dry.

  “A champion heart,” he whispered. “Thank you, Grandmother.” He’d loved her too, and he loved this story he’d never heard before. He didn’t remember being home with his father that day, and Mother had never said a word about such things.

  “Bear?”

  He looked up as Sammy pushed the door in one inch at a time. “Can I come in?”

  Bear’s tears started anew at the beautiful, calming sight of her. “Yes,” he said, gesturing her forward. “Come and read this letter.”

  She hurried toward him, pure alarm on her face. “You’re crying, Bear.”

  He took her right onto his lap and buried his face in her chest. “I love you,” he said. “I love you beyond anything else.”

  “You’re scaring me,” she whispered.

  “It’s good,” he said, trying to get his eyes to stop watering. He handed her the letter. “Read it. It’s good. Nothing to be scared of.”

  She took the paper but didn’t start reading. “This is one of those times when the grief sneaks up on you, isn’t it?” She wasn’t really asking, and Bear didn’t really need to answer.

  He just closed his eyes and said, “Read it, my love. Tell me if you think he’s right.”

  A couple of hours later, Sammy smoothed the hair from Bear’s forehead. “We should go down, Teddy. I’m sure everyone’s here by now.”

  Bear opened his eyes and looked into his wife’s. She was so good and so kind, and Bear did love her with his whole champion heart. “Okay,” he said. After she’d read the letter and told him that yes, he had a heart made of gold, she’d tucked him into bed and said, Rest for a while, baby. You don’t rest enough.

  She’d tucked herself into his arms, and Bear had thanked the Lord for his multitude of blessings and dozed. At some point, he’d smelled the beginnings of lunch, which meant Bishop had come out of his room.

  Bear groaned as he sat up and he took a moment as the room spun to give it time to settle. “I just need a minute to wash my face.” He went into the bathroom and drenched a washrag with cold water. After wiping it down his face to clear away the evidence of tears, he looked into his eyes. “I don’t want to cry in front of everyone.”

  Bear couldn’t even remember the last time he’d cried. Probably the day they’d buried Daddy, over fifteen years ago.

  Sammy appeared in the doorway, and she was soft and strong at the same time. Their eyes met in the mirror, and she held up her phone. “I screened this. You have a ton of messages, but none of them are essential for you to read right now. The only one I’d respond to is the one from your mother.”

  Bear turned toward her and took the device. “Thank you.” For some reason, he was having a hard time maintaining eye contact with her.

  “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me,” she said. “I know it makes no sense to you what happened this morning, but I understand it. I understand it, because I’ve lived it.”

  He wrapped her in a hug and stroked her hair, his words stuck somewhere in his chest.

  “Come on,” she said. “Bishop’s started texting me now.”

  When Bear arrived in the kitchen, every eye swung his way, and most of them carried plenty of anxiety. Bishop wore a navy blue apron and looked up from the casserole dish. “Finally,” he said, taking off the oven mitts and tossing them on the counter. “Okay, everyone. Quiet down.”

  No one was talking, and Bear thought of the day they’d all gathered to this spot of land. The house was different, but this was the same place where Daddy had once lived and died. He had kept them in the hall and said he’d like to say a prayer before they went in to visit him.

  It wasn’t the last time Bear had visited his father, but he’d known his dad wouldn’t survive the moment he’d opened his mouth to say that prayer. He hadn’t known what he was going to say then, just as he didn’t now.

  Last time, he’d just opened his mouth.

  Maybe this time, that was all he had to do again.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said. “Bishop and Montana have been working on the cabins in the southern sector, and they’ve made a very exciting discovery.”

  Bishop moved over to stand next to Bear, and everyone tracked him. Montana sat at the large kitchen table, smartly out of the way.

  “Well?” Cactus growled. “What is it?”

  “Just spit it out,” Ward said.

  “Okay,” Bishop said, his grin giddy. “Now, it’s a bit of a mess, but I’m going to clean it all up. The box and the letters and everything.”

  Zona sucked in a breath and covered her mouth.

  “Montana found a safe hidden in the wall that has the box full of Mother’s love letters from Daddy.” Bishop smiled around at everyone. “There was an envelope with money and—”

  “The letters?” Preacher asked, cutting him off.

  “Are you sure?” Judge took a step closer, his eyes firing with hope.

  “I’m quite sure,” Bishop said, and he reached up to the cupboard above the fridge. “They’re right here.” He pulled out the box, and everyone crowded around, even Ranger and his brothers. Etta and Ida must not have been able to make it.

  “But you guys,” Bishop said as everyone started talking again.

  “Bish,” Bear said. “Give them a minute.”

  Bishop nodded and glanced over to Montana.

  “She’s probably overwhelmed,” Bear said.

  “Yeah,” Sammy said. “Or she doesn’t have a family that’s like this.”

  “Go make sure she’s okay,” Bear urged.

  Bishop moved that way, and Bear spoke to the others as they said things to him. At one point, Cactus left the group surrounding the letters and stepped over to Montana and Bishop. He handed an envelope to Bishop, who looked at it and then up at Cactus.

  He said something and stood up, embracing Cactus. Bear wanted to know what that was about, and he wanted to show Bishop his letter so he’d know he’d loved Bishop and taken him as his long before Daddy had asked him to.

  Later, he told himself. They had a date at the cemetery, and Bear would bring his letter with him then.

  “All right,” he said. “There’s more. Bishop?”

  Bishop turned away from Cactus and surveyed the group. “I’m going to clean up the box and letters and give them to Mother for her birthday. So it’s a secret for now, okay? Not a word to her.” He sought out Arizona and cocked his eyebrow. “Zona?”

  “Fine,” she whispered, her tears obvious in her eyes and voice. “Not a word.”

  “Daddy had a bunch of money in the envelope,” Bishop said, looking at Bear. “We’re not sure what it’s for, but I think I’ll use it for the restoration of the letters, and maybe to bind
them in a book.”

  “Good idea,” Bear said.

  “And Daddy wrote us each a letter,” Bishop said, picking up the envelope. “Bear and I have ours, and we’ve agreed that everyone should get to read their letter in private and only share what you want with who you want.” He pressed the envelope to his chest. “So we can eat first or you can take your letters now.”

  Mister took a step toward Bishop, his choice obvious. “I love your food, Bishop, but I want my letter.”

  Everyone did, and Bishop handed them all out, and in only a matter of seconds, Bear and Bishop stood with Ranger, Ward, and Ace. Sammy had wandered over to Montana, and Bear felt a new kind of peaceful spirit enter the homestead that he hadn’t felt before.

  “I wonder if my father wrote us letters,” Ranger said, his eyes bright.

  “I’m sorry, Ranger,” Bear said, grabbing onto his cousin and one of his best friends. “This can’t make things easier for you. I shouldn’t have invited you.”

  “I’m glad you did,” Ranger said. “Sometimes I just miss him, you know?”

  Boy, did Bear know. “Yeah,” he said, his voice thick. “I know.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Montana cocked her head to the left to put in her earring. Her heart beat unnaturally, because it was ten minutes until six, and then Bishop would be standing at the door. She’d given him the address to her aunt and uncle’s house against her better judgment. She’d let Uncle Bob take Aurora to get ice cream for a party she was going to that night.

  “Ollie Osburn,” she muttered. She’d told Aurora she needed to meet the boy soon, and Aurora had asked why. Actually asked why Montana needed to meet the boy she was crushing on and spending so much time with.

  She’d been over to his house just the one afternoon, but they spent a lot of time texting, and this was the second party at the boy’s house. It was just as well, because Montana was not ready to introduce Bishop to her daughter, or her daughter to Bishop.

  She was mildly horrified to have to introduce her aunt. If she lived alone, there would be no introductions. Just a handsome cowboy on her doorstep, with a picnic basket in his big truck.

  Right on time, the doorbell rang, and Aunt Jackie must’ve leapt from her chair in the kitchen, because it banged into the wall behind it. “I’ll get it!” she yelled as she came jogging into the living room.

  Montana stared at her, her stomach suddenly cramping. “This is a bad idea.”

  “Oh, you look beautiful.” Aunt Jackie’s hand fluttered near her mouth.

  Montana had chosen to wear jeans, as they were hiking. They were form-fitting jeggings actually, and she’d tucked them into a pair of black boots with great traction that went all the way to her knee.

  She wore a short-sleeved shirt in dark blue, because that color made her eyes brighter and her hair stand out. A simple silver necklace lay against her collarbone, and large hoops dangled from her ears.

  She wasn’t sure if this was what one wore on a hiking date, but she wanted to be able to move if she needed to.

  Aunt Jackie’s voice sounded, and Montana realized she’d moved to the door. “Come in, come in.”

  Bishop appeared, and he too wore jeans and a short-sleeved, button-up shirt in light blue and white. He looked around, and when his eyes met hers, he lit up like a Christmas tree. “Hey, there,” he said.

  “Hey yourself,” Montana said. “You look nice.”

  Bishop came toward her, his energy and charisma infectious. “You look absolutely stunning.” He touched her shirt first, right on the cuff of the sleeve. “You should always wear this color. It’s amazing on you.”

  “Thank you.”

  He leaned down and swept his lips along her cheek. “I have everything in the truck. Are you ready?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, come on.” He laughed. “What did I say about the sir business?”

  Montana grinned up at him. “You said not to call you that at work. We’re not at work.”

  “No, we are not,” he murmured, turning toward Aunt Jackie. He tipped his hat as they passed. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Likewise,” she said, her excitement palpable too.

  Montana managed not to giggle on her way out the door, and once she sat in Bishop’s truck, everything felt more normal. She breathed in while he rounded the truck and out as he got behind the wheel.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes.” She glanced at him. “You promised me the story behind the names.”

  “I haven’t even left your driveway.” He looked at her with some shock in his expression.

  “I’m anxious,” she said. “After seeing everything earlier today.” Montana shook her head and swallowed. “Your family is absolutely amazing, Bishop. I can’t even fathom having the kind of relationships you have with them. The names are very clearly part of that, and I want to know what.”

  “You seem to have a good relationship with your aunt,” he said as he backed out of the driveway.

  “Yes,” Montana admitted. “She and Uncle Bob are, in fact, the only family members I’m currently speaking with. At least for longer than it takes to update them that I’m still alive.”

  Bishop looked at her fully then, despite driving down the sleepy streets of Three Rivers. “I want to hear all about that.”

  Montana knew he would, because Bishop wanted to know everything about her. He’d come right out and said as much, and Montana had remembered keenly why she hadn’t been overly anxious to begin dating again.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  “Maybe?”

  “It’s date number one,” she said, folding her hands in her lap. “I want it to be fun, and light-hearted and memorable. If you decide you still want to know more, we can try a second date.”

  “I already know I want to know more.”

  “What if I don’t want to know more?”

  Bishop just blinked at her, as if such a notion was preposterous.

  Montana laughed, because the man really was something else. “You’re so confident,” she said.

  He looked away from her. “I’m actually the opposite,” he said. A brief smile touched his lips. “I put on a good front at least.”

  Montana wanted to know more about that, but she wanted the story on the names first. She waited, because she’d already asked once.

  “My real name is Benson,” he said. “After my great-grandmother. It was her maiden name.” He glanced at her. “Mother says I carry some of her can-do spirit in my soul, and I can’t say she’s wrong.” He shifted in his seat, clearly trying to gauge how Montana would take his story.

  “Benson,” she said. “It’s an unusual first name, but I like it.”

  “That’s why I go by Bishop,” he said. “Daddy wanted to honor his great-grandmother, but he didn’t want a son with two last names.”

  “He knows Bishop can be a last name too, right?”

  Bishop chuckled and shook his head. “You know, I’m not sure he knew that. Daddy really didn’t get off the ranch much.”

  “Come on,” Montana said. “Surely he knew Bishop was a last name.”

  “All right, he did.” Bishop made a turn and accelerated as they went down the highway west of town.

  “So how did you come to have it?”

  “All the names in the family mean something,” he said. “For example, Judge’s name is John. Mother believed in traditional names, and we’ve got John, Michael, Paul, Charles. You get the idea.”

  Montana tried to match up the traditional names with the men she’d seen in the homestead at lunchtime. She’d met several of them previously, but she’d had a devil of a time keeping them all straight. Not only did Bishop have five brothers, but he had three male cousins.

  She knew Bear, as he’d been kind and impossible to forget. She remembered Cactus too, because he scared her slightly. She’d seen softness in his eyes for a moment after Bishop had hugged him, but his shutters had flown right back into place, and when he’d
looked at her, Cactus’s eyes had gone back to the hard, nearly navy marbles they’d been before.

  “I get the idea,” she said, because Bishop had stopped talking.

  “Right.” He cleared his throat. “Each child got a different name, based on certain qualities or traits our grandmother saw in us.” He looked out his window, and Montana found his vulnerability more attractive than his confidence.

  Too bad she didn’t have the confidence to tell him that.

  “I got Bishop, because Grandmother said I needed something to live up to. A bishop is an overseer, I suppose, and she said by giving me the name, I’d rise to my birthright and become a great leader.”

  “Wow,” Montana said.

  Bishop scoffed. “I’m not sure my grandmother was all there when she said all of that, to be honest.”

  “Overseer,” Montana said. “I think it fits, Bishop.”

  “You do?” He turned to look at her. “I spent a lot of years wondering what she meant by giving me that name. I’m the youngest. I’m quite literally overlooked most of the time.”

  “Not today,” she said. “I saw all of them looking at you. They asked you where Bear was. They looked to you for answers.”

  “Only because I’d found the letters,” he said. “The cooking doesn’t hurt.”

  “Cactus likes you.”

  “Cactus and I have a unique friendship,” Bishop admitted. “Even when—” He shook his head. “Cactus is part of my soul.” He flashed her a smile. “Bear too, if you must know.”

  A deep, yawning sadness pulled through Montana, and she found herself looking out her window now.

  “I’ve made you upset,” Bishop said quietly. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Montana said, but she couldn’t face him. “I do not…my family is the polar opposite of yours.” She wasn’t sure how she could say more. She didn’t wish to speak unkindly about her sisters, so she simply said nothing at all. It was a good rule she’d abided by for a while now.