by Stacy Finz
But it was only her now, and no matter how excited she was to go back to work and oversee the firm she and her husband built; her son would always be her first priority.
“Henry, are you okay with all this? Dr. Daniels thinks we’ll be able to go home in two months.”
Since the accident, he’d clung to their Manhattan apartment as if it were a life raft. Often, she’d find him in Mason’s study, curled up in the big leather chair, hugging a picture of his father to his chest. “What if I forget what he looks like?” he’d asked.
“I guess.” Henry licked syrup off his fork. Brynn noted that he’d barely touched his food. “Do I have to go to a new school?”
She wasn’t sure yet how that would work. Between the surgery, physical therapy and all his medical appointments, it might just be better to hire a tutor. She didn’t want him to get behind, but it seemed silly to enroll him in a new school for only two months when he’d have to miss so much of it.
“Let’s see how it goes, okay?” She pointed at his plate. “Eat up. We have a big day today.”
By the time she showered, dressed and repacked their overnight bags, the concierge called to let her know their rental car had arrived. Brynn made a few more phone calls, including one to her late husband’s assistant at the Barnes Group. Monday, when she was a little more settled, she wanted to hold a telephonic meeting with the firm’s executives. Rich and Layla would have to run things while she was away. They were used to it. Since the accident, she’d been too preoccupied with Henry’s care to pick up where Mason had left off.
The car, a Subaru Outback, was waiting in front of the valet station when they got there. Brynn helped Henry in, folded his wheelchair, and stashed it in the trunk. On the GPS, she punched in the address Dr. Daniels had given her and was surprised when, only a short time later, they’d crossed the state line from Nevada into California.
The truth was everything moved so quickly during their appointment that she hadn’t paid much attention to the details of where they’d be staying. She’d just been thankful, and frankly relieved, that it was one less arrangement she’d had to make. But come to think of it, Dr. Daniels mentioned that the cottage was on a ranch, about fifty miles out of town.
The scenery changed from desert scrub to green piney forest as they climbed higher into the mountains. Brynn’s ears popped and as they crested the next plateau, she held her breath at the sheer magnificence of her surroundings. There was snow on the tops of the distant mountains and the trees seemed to ascend to the sky. The highway ran next to a rushing river. Occasionally, they passed a home or two but, for the most part, the land looked untouched.
“Look, Henry. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
He leaned between the two front seats to see better. “Where are we?”
“I’m not altogether sure.” She glanced at the GPS map on her dashboard. “Somewhere in California.”
“How come there’s no ocean, then?”
“It’s a big state. Not all of it is near the ocean. Do you see the river?”
Henry stared out the window. “How soon until we’re there?”
“Not long, according to the map.” Though it seemed like they were in the middle of nowhere. A beautiful nowhere.
They passed a sign for a small airport and Brynn wondered how it stayed in business. She hadn’t seen any towns for miles. Just vast swaths of forest, which would open suddenly to rolling hills and wide-open prairies. Each disparate landscape was more breathtaking than the next.
She’d grown up on Manhattan’s Upper East Side with panoramic views of the city, the East River and Central Park. Nothing to sneeze at. But this . . . the only way she could think to describe it was epic.
They crested another hill and in the valley below she spotted a small village. “You think that’s it, Henry?”
He sat forward in his seat and peered out the windshield. “It looks small.”
“No skyscrapers, that’s for sure. Sit back, baby.” He had a seatbelt on but she didn’t like him perching so close to the front.
The town was Nugget, according to the welcome sign, which proclaimed the place to be “the pride of the West.” Before they reached the town center, Brynn’s GPS told her to turn off on Banner Road.
“Mom, I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Can you hold it just for a few more minutes? According to the map, we’re almost there.” Besides, she had no idea where to find a bathroom around here.
“Yeah,” Henry said. “Or I could get out here and pee behind a tree. Dad taught me how.”
Of course he had. The world had been Mason’s urinal. She was tempted to pull over but it would be an ordeal for Henry to get out of the car, let alone hike along the rutted shoulder to the nearest copse of pines. And knowing her son the way she did, he wouldn’t let her help him.
“Just a few minutes more, buddy.”
The thicket of trees opened to pasture. “Look at all the cows, Henry. My goodness, have you ever seen so many?”
The cows seemed to distract him from his pressing need to pee. He stared out the window and appeared to be counting them.
“You have arrived at your destination,” came the disembodied voice of the GPS.
The road dead ended at a giant gate. Above the entrance, hung a sign with the letter “D” inside a circle that had been burned into the wood. Dr. Daniels had written a combination to the gate on a scrap of paper with the address. Brynn reached into the back seat for her purse and rooted around until she found the note. Leaning out of her window, she punched in the code.
The gate slowly swung open and she pulled through. A dog jogged up to greet them, barking and yipping at their tires. Brynn let the engine idle, afraid if she drove, she would hit the animal.
She considered opening her door and shooing the dog away but what if it was vicious? What she knew about dogs, she’d learned from watching old re-runs of Lassie. Growing up, her family traveled too often to keep a pet and Mason had been allergic.
“Mom, I’ve really gotta go.” Henry squirmed in his chair.
“Okay, baby.” She gently accelerated and to her relief the dog moved out of the way.
A woman came down the lane and the pup ran to her, flanking her side and wagging its tail. Brynn rolled down her window.
“Hi, we’re the Barneses. My son is Dr. Daniels’s patient.”
“Welcome to the Circle D. Ethan is at Stanford today but he told me to show you around.”
“Oh,” Brynn said surprised. “Does Dr. Daniels live here?”
“We live in the house up on the hill.” She pointed and Brynn got a glimpse of a roofline through the trees but not much else.
Brynn didn’t know how far the cottage was from the house but she could feel Henry getting antsy in the backseat. “I hate to ask, but is there any way my son could use your bathroom?”
“Of course. Go on up. The door’s unlocked and I’ll meet you there.”
“Would you like a ride?”
The woman waved her off. “It’s only about two-hundred yards up the hill. I’ll be right behind you.”
Brynn felt funny about letting herself in but at the same time she didn’t want Henry to wet his pants. A few lengths up the road and the house came into sight. It was a two-story timber-frame house with enough decks and windows to take advantage of the glorious view. She could easily see the front facade gracing the pages of Architectural Digest. Sophisticated mountain chic.
She also noted that there were stairs up to the front porch, which would be difficult for Henry. There was a Mercedes Benz in the driveway. Brynn pulled up next to the sedan and cut her engine.
“Let’s try it without the wheelchair,” she said, figuring it would be faster if she carried him up the stairs and helped him to the restroom.
Henry nodded and opened his door.
“Wait for me,”
she called and went around to his side. “Put your arms around my neck.”
Together, they got him out of the car and she helped heft him up the stairs to the front door. The foyer was every bit as impressive as the outside. Beautiful hardwood floors, soaring ceilings with big iron trusses, and incredible woodwork. She wished she had more time to look around but her first priority was finding a bathroom.
“Let’s try this way.” There was a corridor off the entryway that appeared promising. Her instincts were good because the third doorway down was a powder room. “Want me to come in with you?”
Henry rolled his eyes. “I’m good, Mom.”
She waited outside the bathroom door, examining the Navajo rug hanging on the opposite wall. It was evident that the Danielses had exquisite taste. Yet, it wasn’t ostentatious. Judging by the earth tones, the rustic touches and the enormous windows, the house was built to pay homage to the outdoors.
Brynn heard the water go on inside the bathroom. “How you doing in there, buddy?”
“I’m done.” Henry came out, his shoulder hugging the wall for balance.
They followed the corridor back to the foyer to find the woman they’d met on the road coming in.
“Did you find the bathroom okay?” She took off her wide brimmed felt hat and hung it on the hall tree.
“We did, thank you.”
Brynn noted that the woman was older than she originally thought. Maybe mid-fifties and quite beautiful. Jet black hair that fell a little past her chin, big dark eyes, and flawless skin. Though she wore simple khakis and a white blouse, there was a certain elegance about her. She seemed too old to be Dr. Daniels’s wife but Brynn could be wrong.
“You have a lovely home.”
“Thank you. I’m Alma.” She stuck out her hand to shake Brynn’s. “And you must be Henry.” Alma took Henry’s hand in hers and simply held it. “How about a cookie before I show you to the cottage?”
She led them into a grand living room with a big stone fireplace and through the dining room to the kitchen, which was just as impressive. The entire space was open and probably three-thousand square feet. Yet, it felt warm and cozy.
“I just baked them this morning.” Alma plated a half dozen cookies from a cooling rack and put them on the table. “Would you like a glass of milk, Henry?”
Henry looked up at Brynn, silently asking for permission and she nodded. “Yes, please.”
“What can I get for you, Brynn? Coffee? Tea? Something cold?”
“I’m fine, thank you.” She gazed around the kitchen while Alma poured Henry a glass of milk. The cabinets were a dark stained wood and the appliances stainless steel. There was a huge iron pot rack over the center island and a deer antler chandelier that floated over the center of the room. It was so different than her ultra-modern kitchen back home, which she designed from the ground up. Oddly, she liked this one better.
Alma told them to make themselves at home at the breakfast table and joined them with a mug of coffee. “How was the drive?”
“Gorgeous. How large is the town . . . Nugget?” Later, Brynn needed to buy groceries and a few toiletries to hold them over until their things arrived.
“Tiny.” Alma laughed. “A small supermarket, a hamburger drive-through, a sporting goods store, A farm supply shop, a gas station, a barber shop, a Victorian inn and a few other businesses. The hub is the Ponderosa, a sit-down restaurant, saloon and bowling alley.”
“A bowling alley, huh?” That sounded fun. “Does Dr. Daniels have an office here?” While the area was spectacular, it was rather remote for a world-renowned surgeon to set up shop.
“His office is at the University of Nevada in Reno.” Alma sipped from her cup. “His family . . . my late husband . . . were ranchers. Ethan is carrying on the tradition. The Bentley Foundation has housing in Reno, closer to the hospital. But there is never enough space. The cottage is new and was built as backup housing. And this place”—Alma put her hand to her heart—“is good for the soul. Good for recovery.”
Brynn could see that and hoped it would be a morale booster for Henry. Though her boy had grown up in Manhattan, his outdoor getaways with Mason had made an impression on him. Perhaps this place would too. Regardless, it was extremely generous of the doctor to show Henry extra care.
“How was your late husband related to Dr. Daniels?” Brynn asked, curious. A cattle ranching surgeon. It was different, at least in New York.
“He was his father. I’m Ethan’s stepmother.”
Well, that answered that question. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Likewise.” Alma had clearly been briefed on Mason’s death.
“Thank you.” She looked away, unable to meet Alma’s eyes. The accident had left her conflicted. Sometimes she missed Mason with a bone-deep sadness that made it difficult to get out of bed in the morning. Sometimes she hated him with an intensity that plagued her with guilt.
Henry reached for another cookie and Brynn shook her head. She needed to get some vegetables into her boy.
“We’ve taken up too much of your time.” Brynn rose, not wanting to be an imposition.
“You’ll have to meet my granddaughter, Veronica,” Alma told Henry. “She’ll be home from school around three.” She cleared the table and packed up the remaining cookies on the plate in a sandwich bag, which she handed to Brynn. “Let me show you the cottage.”
They piled into the Outback and Alma told Brynn to follow the paved road past the big house, down the hill. About a quarter mile away sat a miniature replica of Dr. Daniels’s house. This one, though, was built on a slab foundation, so the front door was at ground level. No stairs, thank goodness.
“Oh, it’s darling.” Brynn couldn’t wait to see the inside.
She hurriedly unpacked Henry’s wheelchair from the trunk. The pathway to the entrance was paved and he had no trouble making the short distance from the car to the cottage. The entrance was extra wide. Brynn assumed it was to accommodate a wheelchair.
Alma unlocked the door and let them inside. “You’re our first guests.”
“It’s absolutely lovely.” Brynn adored the natural light that streamed through the picture windows.
Like the big house, it was an open concept. Though the rooms weren’t nearly as large, the cathedral ceiling made the space feel endless and airy. The furnishings, a gray sectional piled with a collection of kilim accent pillows, an overstuffed leather swivel chair and a live-edge wooden dining table and six upholstered chairs, complemented the rustic vibe. Her favorite feature was the wood burning fireplace. The ones she had in New York were gas. Growing up, her parents had had a wood burning stove in their weekend home in the Hamptons. And she missed the comforting smell of wood smoke.
“Did you do all this?” Brynn turned in place, taking in the small but well-appointed kitchen. “The decorating, I mean.”
“The Bentley Foundation brought in someone to design the cottage to be ADA compliant. But I did help with the décor. Come look at the bathroom.”
It was a large Jack and Jill that adjoined both the master and guest room. The sink, toilet and large walk-in shower were all wheelchair accessible. The bedrooms were bright and cheery. But more importantly, they felt like someone’s home, not a hotel.
“You did an amazing job, Alma. It’s so warm, so inviting. Are you an interior designer?”
Alma laughed. “Heaven’s no. But this . . . both homes . . . have kept me from climbing the walls.”
Brynn’s expression turned consoling. “After your husband died?”
“No,” Alma corrected. “That was three years ago. I’m newly retired. I moved in with Ethan to help with Roni. But when she’s in school . . . well, I’m not used to all the free time.”
Brynn was curious about what Alma used to do but didn’t want to pry.
“I’ll leave you two to settle in. On the
breakfast counter is a list of phone numbers, including one to the main house, and directions to town. Despite Nugget being mostly a cow town, the food is excellent at the Ponderosa and everyone raves about the burgers at the Bun Boy, though it’s take-out only. Please let me know if there is anything you need. I’m sure Ethan will check in as soon as he gets home.”
Brynn watched Alma hike up the hill and disappear behind the trees. There wasn’t much to unpack but she got their overnight bags from the car while Henry flipped through the channels on the flat screen. Dr. Daniels still had some tests to run but if everything came back normal, Henry’s surgery was slated for Wednesday. That gave them a medical-free weekend to explore this wondrous place.
“You thinking about lunch, Henry?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You seemed hungry when there were cookies to be eaten. Don’t you want to go looking around, see what Nugget has to offer?”
“I guess,” he said, distracted by the TV.
She snatched the remote control away and turned it off. “Come on, let’s have an adventure.”
Without cartoons, he stared outside the window. In the distance, cows dotted the outlying pastures. A shroud of fog hung over the mountains like smoke. And the river—presumably the same one they’d followed along the highway—narrowed and widened through the property as far as the eye could see.
Somewhere, a train whistle blew.
“Do you think Dad would’ve liked this place, Mom?”
The question stabbed at her. For an urbanite, Mason loved the outdoors. Skiing, sailing, hiking, mountain climbing, he’d done it all. He once compared the rush of pitching an ad campaign to careening down an ice track on a bobsled.
“Yes, I do.” She joined Henry on the couch and snuggled next to him. “He loved you so much, baby.”
“He loved you too, Mom.”