by Liz Isaacson
“Mm,” Montana said, wondering if she’d let Aurora go babysit for the man she’d had ill feelings for over the course of at least a year. Maybe longer.
He’s a nice guy, she thought. How do I release these?
“Hey, I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “I gave Ollie my card to give to you ages ago, but he never did it.” Micah cleared his throat, and Montana looked back at him. He wore nervousness in his expression, which completely took her by surprise.
“Your card?”
“I’ve heard nothing but good things about you,” he said. “I thought maybe we could partner on some projects.” He handed her a card then, and Montana switched her gaze to it, still too surprised to even read it.
Slowly, her wits returned, and she tucked the card away. It felt too heavy to hold as it was. “You have too much work, is that it?”
“I do okay,” he said evasively. “But really, I’d rather design and then hire out as much of the work as possible. I’m good with cupboards and cabinets and things like that, but I have a family now, and I….” He cleared his throat again and this time, he leaned closer to her before he spoke. “I promised my wife I wouldn’t work so much.”
Montana had no idea what to say. “Your wife.”
“Mm.” Micah grinned and looked at the door as a woman walked in. “In fact, if I get this, I’m gonna have to turn it down or face a divorce.” He stood up and grinned at the woman. “Howdy, Melissa.”
He sure was working the library director for a job he wouldn’t even take.
Montana did not want to get the job because Micah Walker refused it.
She shook Melissa Dailey’s hand too and when she sat next to Micah again, he said, “I’d love to work with you. Again, I’ve heard nothing but good things, and your website shows real talent.”
“Thank you,” Montana said. “I’m most familiar with the homestead you did for the Glovers, and it’s beautiful. The best work and design I’ve seen in a long time.” She meant that compliment too, because Micah had done beautiful work at Shiloh Ridge.
His face lit up. “That was one of my first projects,” he said. “I love that place. Love it.”
“It shows in the work,” she said. “That’s what some people are missing. The love of the build.”
“Not you,” he said seriously.
“I do love the build,” she said with a smile. “I’m seriously considering your offer, Mister Walker. I’m great with the build, but I’m still working on my designs.”
“Yeah?” He possessed a boyish charm that Montana actually liked.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m working up at Shiloh Ridge these days, but we should go to lunch or I’ll just stop by your place one day on my way home. We can talk more about this partnership you’re thinking about.”
Micah started to laugh, and she wasn’t sure what she’d said that was so funny. “The Lord works in mysterious ways,” he said, still chuckling.
“What do you mean?” Montana asked as another man walked through the door.
“I mean, I wasn’t going to come tonight, but something kept telling me to be here.” He gestured between the two of them. “Now I know why. I was meant to speak with you tonight.”
“Thank you for coming,” Melissa said. “Some of you probably know Councilman Scott. He’s part of the library board this year, so I wanted him here.”
Montana sat on the edge of her seat, every muscle tense. Would they announce who’d won the bid tonight? Need more information? The email she’d received had been quite vague on that point.
As Harold Scott started to drone, Montana’s mind wandered back to Micah Walker. Not only was he a nice guy, he was an upstanding man. He’d done nothing wrong. The only person she was hurting with her bitterness and resentment was herself.
Please take this jealousy from me, she thought. I have no need for it anymore. He doesn’t deserve my resentment or bitterness or ill will either.
The meeting continued, and when it ended, Montana shook hands all around, promised Micah she’d call and set something up, and hurried out to the parking lot. She had so much to tell everyone, and she couldn’t wait to share her news with Bishop first.
Chapter Twenty
Bishop got out of the truck when he saw Montana burst through the library doors. She ran toward him, laughter trailing on the air behind her. “She got it,” he whispered, his thoughts flying to the prayer he and Mother had given together.
“You got it,” he said, jogging toward her too.
“I got it!” She squealed and launched herself at him. Bishop caught her in his arms and laughed as she did. “I got it, Bishop. Free and clear, I got it.” He set her down and peered down at her.
“I knew you’d get it.”
She wiped her hair out of her face, panting. “I can’t believe it. Micah Walker was in there.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder just as the man walked out the doors.
“I see ‘im,” Bishop said.
“That’s my second piece of news,” she said, turning him away from Micah. “I got rid of my resentment for him. He’s actually nice, and he would’ve never hurt me or my business on purpose.”
Bishop smiled at Montana. She’d changed so much, and yet she was exactly the same woman he’d first met while she stood on his front porch and asked for a job.
“I’m not jealous anymore.”
“Congratulations again, Montana,” Micah called, and Bishop looked at him. “Oh, hey, Bishop.” Micah detoured over to them, and Bishop slipped his hand into Montana’s for Micah to see. “How’s Bear?”
“He’s great,” Bishop said. “How’s Jeremiah?”
“Oh, you know Jeremiah,” Micah said with a smile. “Since the fire, he’s gone all crazy about rules and frankly, I’m surprised Skyler hasn’t killed him yet. There are countless places to hide a body on that ranch.” He laughed, and Bishop and Montana joined in.
“Hey, thanks for that number for the counselor,” Bishop said, glancing at Montana. “We’ve put it to good use.”
Micah looked between Bishop and Montana. “Yeah? You two? Doing marriage counseling before you get married?”
“What?” Bishop asked. “No.”
“Not that,” Montana said, looking up at Bishop with questions in her eyes.
“Yeah, well, it’s not a bad idea,” Micah said. “I wish Simone and I would’ve done it.” He chuckled. “Then again, we got married during an audition and didn’t even know it for three weeks. So. Probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway.”
“You what?” Montana asked, plenty of incredulity in her voice.
“I have not heard this story,” Bishop said, intrigued.
“I’ll tell y’all about it when we meet.” He checked his phone. “I’m late. Sorry, I have to go.” He walked away, with Bishop and Montana staring after him.
“We’re meeting with him?” Bishop asked.
“Another bit of news,” Montana said. “He asked me to do some partner work with him, and we’re going to meet to talk about it.”
Bishop could only stare at her. “How long were you in there?”
She laughed, and Bishop did love the joy coming from her. She’d been happy before, but this was a new level of that happiness. He fell further in love with her, and Bishop was pretty sure he was well below the line to consider himself able to say I love you, but he hadn’t said it.
She’d wanted to go slow, and he’d agreed. He wasn’t going to bring up marriage until she did. In fact, Bishop had decided not to bring up any serious topics until she’d broached marriage. None of the others mattered if they weren’t going to get married.
In his mind, he could already see them married, living on the ranch somewhere with Aurora, and blissfully happy. They’d design their house together, and build it together, and live in it until the day they died. They’d be buried in the Glover family cemetery, and Bishop could imagine it all.
“Let’s go to dinner,” she said, tugging on his hand.
�
�Yes,” he said, trying to focus on reality. He took her to The Rooftop Garden, which was one huge buffet of gourmet foods. Just their wall of desserts was worth the high price tag, in Bishop’s opinion.
She talked about her family first, and then the bid, and then how far she’d come on her spiritual journey toward relying more on the Lord and releasing the burdens she’d been carrying herself for so long.
“I’m real proud of you, sweetheart,” he said as he pulled up to her house. “You’re so inspiring.”
“Not really,” she said, sobering now and reverting to her more normal, quiet self. “Someone inspiring would’ve been able to just go, ‘take it all, Lord,’ and move on. I’ve been working for months now.”
“You’re working on it,” he said. “That’s what’s amazing.” He had a few things to work on himself, but his progress was a lot slower than hers.
“How’s your self-care going?” she asked.
“Good,” he said. “And the counselor was for Cactus, though if you ever tell him I told you that, I’ll deny it.” He meant it too, but he chuckled anyway.
“You love Cactus,” she said simply.
“Very much,” Bishop said, looking at the light coming from the windows. “You want to sit in the swing for a bit?”
“Sure,” she said, and she got out of the truck and met him at the corner of the hood. She took his hand and led him up the steps and across the porch to the swing there.
He sighed as he sat down, letting the country stillness seep through him. “We need more swings at Shiloh Ridge,” he said. “This is real nice.” He toed them forward and back, happy to have her curled into his side, a full stomach, and a beautiful summer night in Texas.
“Bishop?” she asked.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Remember how you asked me once if I wanted more children?”
He tensed, his foot stuttering along the surface of the porch. “Yes.”
“If the man I fell in love with wanted children of his own—my children, our children—I’d have them if I could.”
Bishop smiled into the gathering darkness and tucked her tighter into his side. He was definitely in love with Montana Martin, and he definitely wanted his children to be her children. He kept all of that to himself for now, and when it was time for him to head back to the ranch, he stood on Montana’s porch and kissed her like a man in love with her.
He wouldn’t have to say I love you out loud, because surely, she could feel it in every stroke of his mouth against hers.
Bishop passed Lincoln on the steps as the boy streaked down them, in hot pursuit of his dog. “Give that back!” he yelled after Benny, and Bishop laughed. That dog loved socks, and he would not give it back without a significantly tasty treat in return.
At the top of the steps, Sammy smiled at him. “Hello, Bishop.”
“Hey, Sammy.”
“He’s all yours this afternoon.” She patted his chest. “Good luck. He’s not in a great mood.”
“Great,” Bishop said darkly. “Why didn’t you sweeten him up for me?”
“I’m perfectly sweet,” Bear said. “Have fun with your parents, love.” He cocked his head as Lincoln continued to yell at his dog to drop the sock. “What’s that about?”
“Nothing,” Sammy said. “I’ll take care of it. Have fun with Bishop.”
“Thanks again, Sammy,” Bishop said as she went down the steps, one hand lightly on the bannister. He faced his brother, who certainly didn’t look sweet as he came out of the suite and looked over the railing. “Benny stole a sock.”
“Of course he did,” Bear said, and he didn’t sound sweet either. Maybe Bishop should abort this mission. Just as quickly as he’d thought it, he dismissed the idea. He’d been putting this off long enough as it was.
“C’mon in,” Bear said. “I have chocolate ice cream.”
“Perfect.” Bishop followed his brother into the suite where he’d once lived. The space was completely different now, as a family lived there now. All the bedrooms got used. The living room. Even the kitchenette, where Bear had two bowls and two spoons beside a thawing container of chocolate ice cream.
He started to scoop the treat, and Bishop almost lost his nerve for a second time. Who are you kidding? he asked himself. This would be about the fiftieth time he’d lost his nerve.
“Bear,” he said. “I have to say some stuff, and I just want you to listen to the end, okay?”
Bear paused and looked at Bishop. “Okay,” he said slowly.
Bishop ducked his head, though he should be brave enough to have a face-to-face conversation with his brother. “I did resent you for a long time after Daddy died.”
Bear pulled in a breath, and Bishop looked up. “Sometimes, I still look at you, and I wonder why you get everything you want. Why your life seems so perfect when I can’t get a woman to call me back, and when I can’t seem to catch a break, and when I’m an emotional mess but you’re just fine.”
“Literally none of what you just said is true,” Bear said.
“I know,” Bishop said. “Montana has this whole speech about outward appearances. I know it’s not true. I know you and Sammy didn’t hit it off right away. I know Daddy’s letter devastated you.” Bishop shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I think, for me sometimes, you’re perfect, and I wish I could be you. That’s hard on me.”
“What do I need to do?”
“Nothing,” Bishop said quickly. “This is nothing about you. This is about me, and me trying to clear the air between us. But it’s air I’ve poisoned, not you.”
“It has to have something to do with me,” Bear said. “Or else why would you bring it up?” He pushed one of the bowls of ice cream toward Bishop, and he put a spoon in his bowl and joined Bishop at the tiny bar. The two of them took up all the available space, and Bishop reached into his pocket and withdrew his letter.
He smoothed it out and set it between him and Bear. “Read it.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Bish. I might not be able to handle it.”
“I’ve read it so many times, I have it memorized,” Bishop said. “The creases I put in it were starting to rip, so I typed it up again, so I’d always have it.”
“Good idea,” Bear said. “I really don’t need to read it, Bishop. I’m sorry if I’ve—”
“It’s not you,” Bishop said, sighing. This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped it would. “In my letter, Daddy says to always make sure I’m being honest with myself and honest with everyone else. He said that honesty and integrity would become attached to me, and people everywhere would know my name for those traits.” Bishop’s throat closed slightly, but he was going to see this through to the end.
He thought of Montana—his beautiful, kind, strong Montana—and all the hurdles she’d overcome already in her own spiritual and emotional healing.
“He said to pay special attention to my relationship with you, Bear, because I would need it. He’s right. I need it. He said to always come to you and confess how I felt, to make sure the air between us is clear, even if it’s through no fault of yours.”
Bishop picked up his letter and refolded it. “So I don’t need you to do anything. I guess you’ll have to listen to me when I need to come to confess to you.”
Bear took a bite of his ice cream, and said, “I suppose I can do that.”
Bishop swirled his spoon through the melting mess in his bowl. “I’ve been afraid to come talk to you, because you have been having a hard time this summer.”
“You can always come to me.”
“I’ve been afraid, because sometimes it feels like you don’t have room for me anymore. You have Sammy now, and Lincoln, and you should be focusing on them.” Bishop looked at him. “But how many times did we plan to go to the cemetery before we did?”
“Several,” Bear admitted.
“How many times did you cancel because of Lincoln or Sammy?”
“Several,” Bear said again. “I’m sorry, Bishop. I didn
’t realize that upset you.”
“I didn’t either,” he said. “Our family is changing.” And Bishop wasn’t entirely happy about it. “I just miss you, I think. Like I said, it’s my problem. You should be devoted to your family. Of course they come before me.”
“Change is always hard,” Bear said. “I don’t think you’re the only one who feels this way.”
“No?”
Bear shook his head. “Mother texted me the other day that just because I was married now didn’t mean I could ignore everyone.”
“You don’t ignore everyone,” Bishop said.
“I didn’t think so either, but it doesn’t really matter what I think. If someone feels like that, it probably has some merit.” Bear finished his ice cream and got up to get more. “Sammy and I do eat up here quite often. The kitchen is just so loud, and we’re tired. I’m old, and she just carries a lot of stress.”
“You’re not that old.”
“Yes, I am,” Bear said. “Forty-six is almost fifty, Bishop. Things happen to a person at forty that you don’t understand yet.” He smiled like he couldn’t wait until Bishop experienced these “things that happen at forty.”
Bishop took a deep breath. “My letter says to be appreciative too,” he said. “Out loud. That people need to hear how appreciated they are, and I wanted you to know that I appreciate you, Bear. You did take me in when Daddy died, and I was so lost….” He trailed off, because memories from the days and months following his father’s death rushed through his mind.
“You were the anchor for me in a very dark time,” Bishop said. “And I appreciate that. Even now, just when I need something, you’re there.”
Bear nodded and took his barstool again. “What do you need right now, Bish?”
He took a bite of mostly melted ice cream. “I need you to tell me where I can build a house of my own.”
Bear’s shock wasn’t hard to find. “A house of your own?”
“Well, I can’t live with Montana in that one-bedroom suite.”
