by Liz Isaacson
Chapter Fourteen
Bishop bent over and picked up the nail gun, passing it to Montana. She was easily the sexiest woman in the world, especially with that tool belt around her waist.
She handled power tools in such a way that had him lying awake at night, wishing she was right beside him in bed.
Soon, he told himself.
Today, they needed to frame this shed, and then he was driving down to Ida’s tonight to start planning their Thanksgiving menu. They were meeting late this year, and his anxiety over the lack of a plan made him quiet and contemplative. That might’ve been from the news about Ranger and Oakley trying to have a child and not finding success yet.
He hadn’t seen his cousin yet, though they lived together, but he had made breakfast for Oakley that morning. She hadn’t been dressed for work, and she’d curled into the couch in the main room with Benny and The General after she ate a few bites of the ham and cheese omelet Bishop had made for her.
Montana had arrived a few minutes later, and she’d looked at the plate of half-eaten food, picked it up, and taken it to the couch with her. She’d asked Oakley if she could eat it, and then she’d proceeded to tell her about something Aurora had said in a text, and right before his eyes, Oakley had opened up. She chatted with Montana like nothing was wrong at all, and Montana had finished the conversation with, “I swear, I’m not going to survive until that girl graduates from high school.”
She’d grinned at Oakley, leaned over to hug her, and she’d said, “We better get out there. I see Ace is already hovering around the foundation.”
Bishop had gone with her, grabbing her hand and pressing her into the side of the homestead and kissing her. She’d giggled against his lips, and he couldn’t explain when she’d asked him what that was for.
He didn’t know how to say for being normal with Oakley. Or for fitting right in with everyone already here at the ranch. Or don’t worry about Aurora. She’s a good girl.
Montana didn’t like it when he told her not to worry about Aurora. She was her mother, and according to Montana, mothers worried about their daughters.
Bishop looked at Ace, and he knew not all mothers were like Montana. His cousin had laid on Bishop’s private couch in his little living room away from the rest of the homestead last night, lamenting several things Holly Ann had said about her “gypsy soul.”
Bishop hadn’t known how to help him either. He didn’t know how to even talk to Oakley, and he was pretty sure he’d be seven shades of awkward if he ever saw Ranger.
“How’s it coming?”
Bishop jerked upright at the sound of Ranger’s voice. “Good,” he said, stepping over the floor studs quickly, nearly hopping from one to the next, until he stood next to his cousin on the dew-stained grass. It would likely snow soon. At the very least, a cold rain would make itself known in Three Rivers. Up in the hills, where Shiloh Ridge sat, they usually got more ice and snow than the town in the lower valley.
“We’re framing today,” Bishop said, glancing up at the sky. “It’s supposed to storm tomorrow, so Montana and I will cover it all in the morning, and then we’ll see where we are once that’s all done.”
Ranger walked around toward the front corner. Or what would be the front corner of the shed. “It’ll fit the two ATVs?”
“It’s the same specs that we went over,” Bishop said, following him. His mind raced. What could he say to let Ranger know that he’d been thinking about him? That he’d spent extra time in his prayers just for him and Oakley? Did he just come out and say that?
Bishop usually didn’t have such a block in his mouth.
“It’ll fit two ATVs easy,” Ace said, coming around the other way and meeting them. “Plus all those yardwork tools you think you’re going to use.” He grinned at his brother and stepped right into him. He hugged him tight, said something Bishop couldn’t hear, and clapped Ranger on the back.
The embrace lasted several long seconds before they parted, and Ranger turned back to Bishop. “I suppose you want to hug me too.”
Bishop grinned and said, “Yeah, kinda.”
Ranger opened his arms and said, “Get over here then.”
Bishop did, feeling selfish and ridiculous as he took comfort from Ranger instead of the other way around. “I’m right there in the house,” he said. “For anything.”
“I know,” Ranger said. He pulled back and held onto Bishop’s face. “You’re a good man, Bishop.” He smiled though it definitely shone with pain. He stepped back and let his hands fall into his coat pockets. Bishop had shed his coat once he’d started nailing studs to cement. If he wasn’t working though, he’d get cold soon enough.
“I asked Ward to take over the major updates with Two Cents,” Ranger said, gazing at the load of lumber on the ground over by Ace. “I know you’re really busy with all the construction on the ranch, and you guys are working on redesigns for Cactus, and all of that.” He raised his eyes to Ace, and then back to Bishop. “I just need some time off. I’m going to work around the ranch like usual. Maybe not as much as usual, actually, but I just can’t focus on the app right now.”
Bishop nearly leapt toward him. “I can keep up with the day-to-day stuff,” he said. “Ward can run the big updates, and I’ll do the polls we have scheduled. We’ve already talked about those. I can manage the spam comments, and I can go through the server specs. I’ve seen you do it.”
Ranger grinned, and he almost looked like the man Bishop had always known. He’d changed too, and Bishop supposed that every life experience a person had added a new layer to a them. Sometimes those things were physical, like scars or a limp similar to the one Aunt Dawna had from her surgeries.
But more often than not, a person carried emotional and spiritual wounds, scars, and limps that no one ever saw until they really knew that person.
“Thank you, Bishop,” Ranger said. “I knew I could count on you and Ward.” He looked back at Ace, and asked, “Can I steal you for a second?”
The two brothers walked off, and Bishop watched them go, suddenly feeling left out of something he had no right to even be in. He hated this part of himself, and he wished he could be content with himself, and with the people he loved.
“Bishop,” Montana called, and the urgency in her voice had him spinning toward her. He didn’t need to ask what the problem was. The nail gun had gone wild, spitting a new nail out every second.
He ran toward the cord as Montana tried to pull it tight enough to get it out of the generator he’d wheeled out here last night.
He grabbed the cord and yanked, and the nail gun powered down with one last nail being driven into the ground near Montana.
With his heartbeat sprinting, she danced across the floor studs again, asking, “You okay, love?”
“Yeah.” She took a breath and tossed the now-smoking nail gun onto the grass. Their eyes met, and Bishop kept moving toward her, a smile filling the empty spaces in his soul. He laughed as he reached her and gathered her into his arms.
She wrapped her arms around his back, giving a little laugh too. “I know you guys like to repair and recycle and all of that, but we just need to replace that thing. It was possessed.”
“Right?” He kept chuckling as he added, “It’s been acting up for several months now.”
“Good thing we were on the ground when that happened,” she said. “Otherwise, we’d have been shooting nails all over Shiloh Ridge.”
The next day, Montana brought her daughter Aurora to the ranch. Oliver Walker came too, and Ace wasted no time in snagging them to help with the re-fencing project going on around Shiloh Ridge.
“We’ll be back in time for lunch,” Ace called over his shoulder.
“Make sure you bring Cactus,” Montana yelled after them. Only Ollie answered her, and Bishop didn’t miss that. The boy had been working hard to get back into Montana’s good graces—and Aurora’s—since the night they’d decorated the angel tree.
She turned and faced Bishop. “Thanks for lettin
g me bring them up here today.”
“Any time,” he said. “Bear will always put a pair of hands to work. He took Link out to the corral this morning to reset a gate.”
“Lincoln weighs about ten pounds,” Montana said, bending to pick up one of the tarps Bishop had ordered. “There’s no way he can reset a gate.”
“Yes, well, don’t tell Bear that.” Bishop grinned as he reached for a tarp too. They unbagged them and got to work covering the bare wood they’d put together yesterday. “How’s the library coming?”
“Really good,” she said. “It’ll be done on time, and I think the entire City Council nearly fell out of their chairs when I gave them that update.” She wore a sunny smile on her face, and Bishop loved this happy version of herself she’d become.
“And Cactus?”
She sent him a dark look among the sunshine. “Your brother is impossible. You know what he said last night? ‘You choose.’” She shook her head. “If I wanted to choose, I’d have just made one design.”
They threaded together the two tarps and reached for two more. “Cactus must be going through something,” he said.
“I’ll say,” Montana said. “Who else would argue with a pastor right in the chapel? And the way he refused to introduce her to Bear?” She shook her head. “I don’t get him. I know he likes her.”
“Yeah.” Bishop didn’t know what thoughts ran through Cactus’s head. He knew he sometimes reacted without thinking and then had to backtrack, make apologies, and try again. He was a lot like Bear in that regard. “Let’s see what we can get out of him this afternoon. With Ollie and Aurora around, he might not bite off our heads.”
“If you even say a word that sounds like Willa, he’s going to walk out.” She sighed and handed Bishop the end of the tarp. “Please don’t say anything. I need him to choose a design, or I can’t start ordering the stuff we need for his project. And you know what that means? It means we’re behind on our house. The one we’re fitting in around all the other projects going on around here.”
Bishop didn’t commit right away, and Montana sent a glare in his direction. He tried to dodge it, but he should’ve known such a thing was impossible. The woman’s opinion mattered too much to him, and he didn’t want to disappoint her.
“Bishop.”
“All right, all right,” he said with a grin. “I won’t say anything to upset him.” Cactus had not been back to church since the near-yelling match with Willa Knowlton, and Bishop had only seen him once—that same day at lunch.
He hadn’t asked him to confirm for Thanksgiving, because he hadn’t thought he needed to. As he and Montana covered their hard work from yesterday, Bishop thought he better text Cactus and make sure he was coming to dinner next week.
“Did you know Sammy and Oakley are going to get their nails done with Ida and Etta?” Bishop asked, trying to make his voice nonchalant.
Montana looked over to him, clear surprise in her eyes. “Yes,” she said. “They invited me.”
“You didn’t want to go?”
She shrugged and bent to fold the tarp at the corner and set it in place with the weight. “I don’t get the point of painting my nails. They just get all ragged the next day.” She shrugged and looked toward the homestead. “I could just hang out.”
“Yeah,” Bishop said. “You could. If you don’t want to, that’s fine too.”
“I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “I’m not really into girly stuff like that, and then I wonder if there’s something wrong with me, and then everything just…doesn’t make sense. It’s easier to say no.” She bent and dug at the grass that had been nailed down, pulling out some of the metal that had been deposited there.
She straightened and kicked at the ground, and Bishop just watched. “It’s okay. We had plans with Cactus, and I really do need him to pick a design.”
Bishop nodded and reached for her. She came to his side, and with the framed shed covered, and today being a Saturday, he simply took Montana back to the house, where he started lunch and she sat on the couch.
Later, the front door opened and voices met his ears. Relief ran through him when he recognized Cactus’s deep tone, and he grinned at his brother when he entered the kitchen.
Then he saw the mud.
“You guys,” he said, glaring at the dirty floor and then the trio that had tracked in all the mud. “Come on. Some of us live here.”
“Sorry, sir,” Ollie said, kicking off his boots. He took his and Aurora’s to the deck while Cactus took his sweet time removing his boots. Then Ollie took those too.
“He’s not your slave,” Bishop said darkly, unsure of why he was trying to provoke Cactus already.
“He’s so eager though,” Cactus said, watching Oliver drop the boots on the deck.
“Be nice to him.” Bishop exchanged a glance with Aurora, who gave him a smile and rolled her eyes. At least Cactus’s bark was much louder than his bite when it came to kids. “Lunch is ready.” He turned and collected the pot of pasta from the stove. “Come on, Ollie. Time to eat.”
Montana rose from the couch too, and Bishop said a prayer. “Okay,” he said as Cactus picked up a plate and started putting the fettuccini Alfredo on it. “Two things, Cactus. First, you have to pick a design today, so Montana can order your supplies. Second, we need an update regarding Willa Knowlton.”
Montana sucked in a breath and slapped him on the chest. “Bishop.”
“Come on,” Bishop said. “I haven’t seen Cactus since that Sunday, and I know he’s dying to tell me.” He grinned at his brother, who hadn’t looked up from the pot of pasta.
He finally did, moving out of the way so Aurora could get some food. She said, “Willa Knowlton is literally the first pastor who hasn’t put me to sleep.” She piled some noodles on her plate. “This looks great, Bishop. Thank you so much.”
“Yes, thank you,” Ollie said, smiling at Bishop. He was a great kid, and Bishop sure did like him. He nodded and watched Cactus, who hadn’t looked away from Aurora.
“What do you like about her?” he asked her.
She glanced up and then back to the tray of garlic bread. “Willa?”
“Yes,” Cactus practically growled.
She gazed evenly at him for a moment and then said, “I’ll tell you if you tell me what you like so much about her.”
“Ho ho!” Bishop said, his glee soaring toward the sky. “Nice one, Aurora.”
Cactus rolled his eyes and moved over to the table. “Fine,” he said. “I can do that.”
“You go first,” Aurora said, and Bishop needed to pack her in his pocket every time he went out to the Edge Cabin.
Cactus cleared his throat and took a bite of his lunch. By the time he finished chewing and swallowing, everyone had gotten a plate of food and joined him at the table.
“She’s really pretty,” he said. “Number one.”
“You’re not getting away with just that,” Aurora said.
“I know.” Cactus glared at her. “I don’t know.” He pushed his fettuccini noodles around on his plate but didn’t take another bite. “Haven’t you ever just met someone and there was this crackle? This attraction between the two of you that you think, ‘I need to get to know this person. I think we could be good friends.’?” He looked around at everyone, and Bishop forced himself not to say anything. After all, Cactus rarely strung together so many words.
“That’s how I felt when I met Willa. I asked her out, and she said no.” He looked down then, making everyone stare at the top of this cowboy hat. “Then she asked me to sit by her at church, but it was really just to hear me sing, because she wants me to be in her blasted community choir. And I don’t know. I felt kind of used? And kind of stupid? And then those things get me to angry pretty fast, and the next thing I know, I’m yelling at her in the chapel.”
He sighed, and Bishop’s heart tore and bled for him. He glanced at Montana, who openly gaped at Cactus. Aurora did too, and it was Ollie who said, “I know wh
at to do here.”
Cactus looked up and over to the sixteen-year-old, bright hope on his face. “You do?”
Ollie looked around the table, as if someone else would chime in first. “Yeah,” he said, sliding his gaze back to Cactus. “You show up at her house and you apologize.” He leaned forward a little. “It’s best not to go during a big family party though, especially if she has a lot of brothers or uncles or…overprotective cowboys at said party.”
Bishop burst out laughing, as did everyone else at the table, including Cactus. He didn’t look like he’d be driving down to Willa’s any time soon—for one, he didn’t own a vehicle to drive—but at least he wasn’t wallowing behind his cowboy hat anymore.
Cactus stopped laughing first, and Bishop added his brother to his list of people to pray for morning, noon, and night.
Chapter Fifteen
Ace wasn’t anywhere near hungry when he turned where the map program told him to. “I can smell the butter out here.”
Holly Ann grinned at him, and Ace smiled on back. Something seethed beneath his skin, where he’d kept it since she’d told him she didn’t know if she wanted children, and since she’d told him she didn’t want to put down roots because of her gypsy soul.
He hadn’t known how to bring up the topic again, though she’d said they could talk more about it, and Thanksgiving Day didn’t seem like a good time.
He hadn’t known how to tell her that she’d put down a pretty healthy root system by purchasing a home in Three Rivers and then starting a catering business that matched the town name—Three Cakes.
He hadn’t known how to see her every day because of her crazy meeting schedule and the two parties she’d catered this week. He’d been busier than usual around the ranch, as Ranger’s workload had shifted somewhat to Ward, which meant that some things that Ward usually did had fallen to Ace.
He’d given up trying to drive to town every day, and he’d settled for calling Holly Ann late at night or sometimes in the morning.