by Amber Kelly
I wave to him out the window in front of our booth. He keeps waving as he is buckled in.
“Thank goodness it’s a party for one of Mom’s friend’s granddaughters, so I don’t have to go. I swear, that kid has a better social life than I do. It’s a party or playdate or both every weekend,” Dallas tells me as she blows kisses to him before they pull out of sight.
“He’s adorable, Dallas.”
“Thanks. He’s the best thing I’ve ever done; that’s for sure.”
We pay our bill, and Kim brings us to-go cups of coffee.
“So, now what?”
“Now, we head to the shops in town, so I can buy a dress to wear to Gram’s service tomorrow, and you can buy some real clothes.”
“I have real clothes.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Girl, you have city clothes. You need jeans and sweaters and boots and coveralls.”
“I’m not going to be here that long, Dal. I don’t need to buy a bunch of clothes that I’ll have to drag back to New York with me.”
“Dad says that Dennis Phillips is handling Gram’s estate. He is in Seattle, visiting his son’s family, because his daughter-in-law gave birth to his second grandson a few weeks ago. That means, you’ll be here for at least another couple of weeks before he can get home and schedule a will reading. Besides, you won’t have to drag anything back with you because I’ll be more than happy to take it off your hands when you leave.”
A couple of weeks? I wasn’t expecting to be here longer than a few more days.
“Weeks?”
“Yep.”
She smiles huge, and I get the uneasy feeling that she and my aunts are in cahoots to keep me in Poplar Falls.
“I don’t think I can stay for weeks.”
“Sure you can. You can work from anywhere, remember?”
“I can, but I can’t take advantage of Charlotte. Plus, I have an apartment, and my mom will lose her mind if I’m gone for that long.”
“Well, I don’t know who Charlotte is, but I assume she is an adult and will be just fine. Your apartment is just a building. It’s not like it has to be fed and watered. And as far as your mom goes, again, she is an adult, and she will be just fine.”
“Do you remember my mom?”
“Yes, and I know she can be a little high-strung, but you’re a grown-ass woman. She can’t make you come home until you’re good and damn ready.”
I balk. “A little high-strung? Obviously, your memory isn’t that great.”
“No, it is. I’m just saying, maybe it’s time to put your foot down and set some boundaries for Mommy dearest.”
“I’ll think about it. I can call Charlotte and get her thoughts. She’s my friend and my assistant. She helps me handle Mom.”
“Sounds like a plan. Now, we shop.”
Three hours later, and I’m the proud owner of a brand-new Colorado-appropriate wardrobe. I don’t even know how it happened. Dallas just has a way of talking me into things. I guess that is one thing that hasn’t changed since we were kids.
When we pull back up to the ranch, Daddy and Emmett are sitting on the porch, playing checkers, just like they did every Saturday afternoon when I was a kid.
Dallas and I grab all the bags out of the back of the truck and head up the steps.
Emmett watches us with an amused expression. “Good afternoon, ladies. Whatcha got there?” he asks.
“Real clothes for Sophie,” Dallas answers before I can.
Daddy turns in his chair and eyes the bags in our arms. Then, he looks up at us. “Planning on staying awhile?” he asks.
I shrug. “I haven’t made up my mind yet. Is it a problem if I do?”
“This is your home, Sophie. You’re always welcome here. Stay forever if you want to.”
“Okay. Thank you.” I nod my head at him and open the door.
Dallas and Emmett beam at each other like they just witnessed the signing of the Treaty of Versailles.
If only it were that easy.
Braxton
I back the truck up to the barn and let down the tailgate, so I can unload the twenty-pound bags of salt I picked up at the hardware store. Snow has already started to fall this year. It’s not sticking yet, but with several elderly adults living and working on the ranch, it’s a priority to keep the walkways and steps clear of any ice hazards.
As soon as I open the double door, I see Sophie’s long blonde ponytail. She’s making her way down the aisle of stalls, peeking in each one, speaking softly to the horses as she goes.
We have four stalls here in the main barn for the family’s personal horses. They are separate from the stables, which is a little walk down the east side of the property, and house all the horses for Aunt Madeline’s riding classes and therapy camps.
I stop and watch Sophie as she almost reverently reads the name tag on each stall until she reaches the fourth one and freezes.
“Huck,” she says the name of the stallion aloud and then stands on her tiptoes to get a good look inside.
“Careful. He’s temperamental.”
She starts at my voice and turns to face me.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” she scolds.
I drop the bag from my shoulder onto the barn floor. “Not sneaking. Working.”
She looks sheepish as she asks, “Is this horse male or female?”
“Male.”
She turns back to the stall and draws closer.
I walk toward her because the stubborn woman is not listening to my warning.
“Huckleberry,” she whispers to herself.
I stop and watch as she lays her cheek against the door and closes her eyes.
“Is his momma still alive?”
Confused by her question, I ask, “His momma?”
“Blackberry was his mom, wasn’t she? Is she still alive?”
“No. She died about two years ago.”
I watch as something washes over her. Anger? No. Grief.
Tears dampen her lashes, and she swipes at them with her eyes still closed. I feel like I’m imposing on a private moment that I don’t understand, but I don’t want to leave her propped against that horse’s stall.
“You mind moving back a few steps? I don’t want him to kick the door and hurt you.”
She opens her eyes as if realizing where she is again. She straightens and looks at me. “Why would he kick the door?”
“As I said, he’s temperamental, and he doesn’t take too kindly to strangers.”
As if on cue, Huck whinnies and starts to buck against the door.
Sophie hops back and then starts to soothingly speak to the animal, “It’s okay, Huckleberry. Did you hear us talking about your momma? I bet you miss her, don’t you? I miss her too. She was my horse and my best friend.”
Huck settles and pokes his head over the top of the door, and Sophie draws near again.
Odd. She doesn’t seem the least bit afraid of the large animal.
She reaches up to run her fingers down the horse’s long face. Then, she lays her cheek against his nose.
Huck doesn’t react; he stands there and lets the human nuzzle him.
“I left her. I left her right when she was about to give birth to you. I bet she wondered where I went and what she had done wrong.”
She wraps an arm up around the horse and holds on to his neck for a long while, and as much as I need to get the truck unloaded and start salting the sidewalks, I don’t want to leave with her so close to the unruly animal.
After a while, she releases her hold. She reaches into the pocket of her coat and pulls out an apple. Huck sniffs the offering and then gently takes it from her open hand.
“Good boy,” Sophie coos and gives him one more scratch on his nose before she turns and walks right past me toward the doors. “You’re right. He’s an ornery beast,” she throws over her shoulder in my direction as she exits.
I stand there, looking the horse in the eye.
“What was
that, Huck?” I ask as he stares me down.
All I get in return is an agitated snort. Then, he turns his back on me.
Damn horse.
I guess all the creatures on this ranch are enamored by Miss Sophia Lancaster.
Traitors.
“Want to come out to Fast Breaks with us tonight?” Elle asks Sophie as we finish up supper and start cleaning the table.
“Fast Breaks?”
“Yeah, it’s the pool hall in town. Brax usually takes me on Saturday nights, being as Sunday mornings are the only ones he takes off.”
She looks up at me in surprise. “You take a day off?”
“Yep. Madeline insists. Walker handles Sunday mornings.”
Aunt Mad walks in at the sound of her name. “That’s right. Your life can’t be all work, Braxton. You have to actually live in between.”
“You teach Jefferson to do that?” Sophie asks.
“I’ve tried. But it’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks.”
“I bet.”
“Brax here is a different story. I still have a chance at convincing him that the ranch won’t fall to pieces if he sleeps in one day a week.”
She reaches up and pats my cheek. I appreciate the concern, but the truth is, I’d rather be up with the cattle than sleeping in. My eyes pop open at the same time every morning anyway; my internal alarm clock doesn’t give a damn if it’s Sunday or Monday.
“His wife will thank you one day,” Elle agrees.
“That’s my hope.”
Elle hands a plate to Sophie, who is loading the dishwasher.
“So, you want to come with?”
“Rain check?”
“You sure? It’s a lot of fun. Everyone in town usually ends up there by the end of the night.”
“I think I’m just going to read a little and turn in early tonight. I didn’t sleep much last night, and I don’t want to be too tired for Gram’s service tomorrow.”
The service begins right after church tomorrow at First Baptist Church of Poplar Falls. Gram was a well-respected and active member of the congregation her entire life. She spent a good bit of her time trying to wrangle us all in the doors anytime they were open.
“That’s probably a good idea, Elle. Gram would be mighty disappointed if we showed up haggard and hungover tomorrow,” I agree with the plan of turning in early.
Elle twists her nose in consideration and then nods. “I’ll call Sonia and tell her we decided to stay in tonight. How about we do a movie and popcorn instead?” she asks the room at large, but her hopeful eyes are directed toward Sophie.
“That’s a great idea. I can whip up some homemade chocolate chip cookies too,” Ria offers.
Sophie looks around at the expectant faces and hesitantly agrees, “Okay.”
Elle claps. “Yay! We can have a pajama party. I’ll go shower and change and meet you guys in the living room in half an hour.” She makes her way to me. “What about you? Want to join us?”
I wrap her in my arms. “Nah, pajama parties aren’t exactly my thing. I’ll leave you girls to it.”
I kiss the top of her head, and she scurries down the hall.
Sophie finishes loading the washer, and Ria begins to pull out the ingredients to make her cookies.
“Good night, ladies.”
“Good night, Brax. I’ll save you a few cookies for breakfast.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
I head for the back door, and Sophie offers a quick, “Night.”
I nod in response as I walk out on the deck. It’s a chilly night. The snowfall only lasted a few hours, and the thin layer of white didn’t stick around long once the sun peeked back out a couple of hours before sunset.
My phone chimes in my pocket, and I pull it out. It’s a text from Lori, a girl I see from time to time, asking if I’m coming out tonight. I reply that I decided to stay in, and she offers to come and keep me company when she gets off work.
It looks like I’m set for the night.
I look back through the kitchen window at Ria pointing Sophie toward the mixer on the counter.
Jefferson and Emmett come around the side of the house, carrying trash bags, and Jefferson follows my line of sight.
“Guess it’s a hen party in there tonight,” he grumbles.
“Yep. Just you two and a house full of women, old man.”
“Can we come and hang out with you and watch the game?”
“Sorry, I have plans.”
“Traitor.” He stomps off toward the garbage cans.
Emmett chuckles. “He can complain all he wants, but I know he loves having all his girls under one roof.”
“Thank goodness it’s a big roof.”
“Ain’t that the truth? Enjoy your night, Brax.”
He slaps me on the back and follows Jefferson, and I head to my apartment to get ready for my guest.
Sophie
I step out onto the front porch with my quilt and sketchpad. It’s five a.m., and the house is still silent. I guess Sundays really are the day of rest around here.
I tossed and turned all night, trying to decide what I was going to do about staying here until Gram’s attorney returned. I could always go back to New York on Monday and fly back out here when he is ready, but that doesn’t feel right. Nothing has been resolved since I arrived. If nothing else, I’m even more conflicted than before.
Madeline and her family were easier to hate from afar. Spending last night watching a scary movie with her and Elle and my aunts, laughing and filling up on junk food, was actually nice.
Who am I, and what have I done with the angry, bitter, jealous girl who stepped off that airplane?
Then, there is Braxton. I’m still not sure how I feel about him. He is either ignoring me or looking at me like I’m an alien who sprouted another head.
Sometime in the middle of the night, I decided to roll the dice and stay through the end of the month. I do want to spend more time with Pop and Aunt Doreen and Aunt Ria. Maybe Daddy and I will finally have a real conversation too. Perhaps not, but at least I’ll know it’s not because I ran away.
As soon as it’s a decent hour, I’ll call Charlotte and run my plan by her. I feel guilty for heaping so much responsibility on her plate, but I’m sure she’ll agree that it would be better for my head to be in the game when I return home. At least, I hope she feels that way.
I settle in on the swing and start to sketch a dragonfly pendant when I hear a door open. I peer around the side of the house and see two people standing on a landing at the top of a staircase to the right, above the barn doors.
It’s Braxton and a brunette. Her back is to me, and she’s looking up at him. He’s in nothing but pajama pants, his feet are bare, and his hair is disheveled. The brunette reaches up and runs her fingers through it. It’s nice hair. I’ve never really noticed before because he’s always wearing that raggedy ball cap. He lays his hands on either side of her hips as she comes up onto her tiptoes and plants a kiss on his lips. He returns the kiss, and then he whispers something that makes her laugh before he releases her. She turns and trots down the steps. She gets into a red Mercedes convertible and drives away. Braxton stays on the landing and watches until her car is out of sight down the drive. Then, he turns and disappears back inside his door.
I stand up and walk to the side of the porch, so I can get a better view, and through the windows, I watch him move around. He walks out of sight and then comes back with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and a towel around his neck. He opens the door again, and I dodge behind a column and hold my breath, hoping he didn’t see me.
A moment later, a small brown-and-white bulldog puppy rounds the side of the porch and gives a sharp bark, startling me.
“Shh,” I say as I look down at the pup. “Please don’t give me away,” I plead in a whisper as it continues to yap its greeting.
I move closer to the beam and pray that Braxton doesn’t hear it.
The excited puppy pees all over
the porch as he jumps up at me, no doubt wanting to be picked up and petted.
It’s the cutest thing.
After a few terrifying moments, I hear Braxton’s deep voice from across the way. “Hawkeye, you done, boy?” His question is followed up by a loud whistle.
The puppy scampers off the porch and toward the barn.
I continue to hold my breath until I hear the door close once more, and then I let it out and bow over.
Jeez, why am I sneaking around, spying on him?
I return to the swing and finish my sketch before going in to shower and get ready for church.
Breakfast is potluck, prepared by the ladies at church and served before Sunday school. Aunt Doreen and Aunt Ria’s contribution is a delicious blueberry, cream-cheese-stuffed French toast casserole.
The entire town has come out for Gram’s service. Every pew is filled when Reverend Burr begins his sermon. He starts with a joke, saying that only Mrs. Betty Sue Lancaster could turn a Sunday service into a standing-room-only event.
After church, the family is given some private time with Gram. Pop stands by her casket and holds his hand on top of hers in silence for several long moments before Aunt Ria walks up and lays a white rose in with her. Then, one by one, everyone comes up and pays their final respects and hugs Pop. After everyone takes a turn, I approach slowly.
She looks like an angel. Her silver hair is arranged in a knot on top of her head, just as I remember her always wearing it. Her face is serene, and she has a hint of a smile on her lips, like she is finally in on the secret. The secret she preached to us all—that heaven is better than we could ever think or imagine, and she is already enjoying herself.
When I make my way to her side, Pop wraps an arm around me.
His solemn gaze never leaves Gram’s face as he speaks to me, “She’d be so happy you are here, Sophia.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier,” I tell him as a sob of regret escapes me.
“It’s okay. Gram would be tickled, knowing that she had a part in bringing you back home.”
He squeezes me in tighter, and I realize that I’m supporting him now.
Daddy comes along my left side, and he places a hand on my shoulder. The three of us stand there in silence for a beat.