“Chloe seems so content.” The crisp air gave me goose bumps. “And so do you.” Part of me didn’t want him to like it here so much. My chest buckled as I exhaled.
“You seem pretty comfortable yourself.” John crossed his legs and picked at the heel of his boot. Dried mud drifted to the floor.
“I’m just trying to fit in, besides it’s a whole other way of life. No hustle. No bustle. No driving with your hands clenched to the steering wheel in traffic.” My voice trailed off just as the kids’ silhouettes disappeared into the backdrop of mountains speckled with pines, their voices faded as John and I rocked in our chairs.
“Yeah, but there are other obstacles,” John said.
“I’m sure there are.” I closed my sweater to the nip in the air. “Like what?” Fingering the worn spot of denim at his knee, I studied his profile, imagining what he’d look like at Winston’s age. And when that time came, Winston and Ida May would be together in the Montana air whispering to John and Chloe. My mom would probably be gone, too. My deep breath cut me. God, Bradley would be my age and Chloe would be Chloe, just all grown up, a woman. I tried imagining myself, but couldn’t see myself any different.
“The hardest obstacle would be not having you here.” John uncrossed his legs. His heel made a thud against the porch floor. He rocked his chair back using the balls of his feet and put his hands behind his head. “Chloe’s right. It’s gonna hurt.”
His words stabbed at my heart because I knew he wouldn’t be the only one with a monumental ache. I held his hand. “I know.”
“Will you come with me?” John asked. “I have something to show you.” He stood and hooked his thumbs in his front pockets.
I held his stare. “Yes.” The truth was, I wanted to follow him wherever he went. John’s mother, Ida May had followed Winston to this place, and maybe it was my turn to follow in the footsteps of a woman I’d never met, but could feel in the air when Winston spoke of her. John took my hand and we went through the living room and into Winston’s office. The walls were decorated with horseshoes, tack, and vintage photos of Montana and his family.
John touched a silver horseshoe on Winston’s desk that sat on top of a pile of legal documents. He ran his fingers over the shiny metal. “Dad thinks these horseshoes bring him good luck.”
“Maybe they do,” I said, inspecting the photo hanging behind his leather chair.
John’s mom sat in an old pickup truck, behind the wheel with her elbow out the window, her fair hair dancing in the wind, her eyes set on the horizon, gazing into the distance as if she could read the Montana landscape. Her light eyes eerie with premonition, her careworn skin shone diligence from ranching alongside the man she loved.
“These photos are beautiful.” I faced John. His eyes resembled his mother’s in the photo. “What is it?”
“Coming here wasn’t just a yearning. It was a calling so Dad could teach me how to run this place. Someday when he’s gone, it’ll be mine, and then Chloe’s.” His fingers tapped the papers under the silver horseshoe.
I tucked my fingers into the pockets of my jeans.
“I’m not going to regret running this place. The only thing I’ll regret is not fighting harder.” John’s T-shirt hugged his chest as he breathed harder. “Chloe doesn’t know about this and I’d appreciate it if we kept this to ourselves. She’ll find out someday, but if I have my way, not for a while.”
“I won’t say a word,” I said as he stepped closer to me.
“I know you won’t,” he whispered, touching my lips with his fingers. “I want you to know that someday I’m gonna want to marry you, Maggie Abernathy. I’m not just asking for a long-distance relationship. And if I don’t say it now while we’re alone, it’ll eat me alive.”
Raising my eyebrows, I dug my hands deeper into my pockets with balled fists holding on for dear life. I caught my breath. In my wildest dreams, I never imagined those words. I pressed my lips together and swallowed the surprise. “What?”
“I’m sorry, Maggie, but you’re leaving soon. I’ll be back to empty the house, but I didn’t want to—” John’s voice broke and he glanced toward the floor.
“You didn’t want to what?”
His temples twitched as he swallowed. “I didn’t want you to leave without me telling you. I know this isn’t very romantic, but I couldn’t take a chance waiting for the perfect moment. I didn’t want to regret not saying anything at all.”
I held his stare. “I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t expect you to say anything, but I want you to know how serious I am.”
Chloe burst into the room. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of her father. “Who died?” she asked, the smile fading from her lips.
“No one,” I said. “We were just talking.”
“Geez, you two look pitiful. Is that the right word, Dad?” Chloe walked over to her dad.
John ruffled her hair. “Yes, I believe so. What’s going on?”
“I caught a trout in the pond. Super cool. Judy took a picture with her phone. She said she’d send it to you.” Chloe tugged at my hand, her smile beaming.
“That’s wonderful. Did either of the boys fall in?” I asked, expecting more sabotage.
Chloe laughed. “No, but almost ’cause they were pushing and shoving, but Grandpa caught them both by the ear and that was the end of that.”
Chloe’s toothy grin appeared to mature with each passing day. John wanted to marry me, someday, and along with him, I’d inherit Chloe, the girl next-door who’d scraped my nerves when we first met, the girl who’d weaseled her way into my life, and into my heart despite her impulsive antics. I replayed John’s words in my head as Chloe and he talked about how she reeled in the fish knowing that she’d been fishing all along.
“So while Grandpa was helping me net the fish, Harry hooked Walter, but Grandpa said he’d be okay ’cause there was no barb on the hook. Walter had a few tears, but he mostly looked mad.”
“Ouch.” I winced, but I knew that Harry would be at Walter’s mercy for the rest of the trip.
Walter came bounding in with his hand in the air. “Look, Harry hooked me. Chloe caught a fish and Harry caught me. The hook went right in there.” Walter held up the back of his hand.
I inspected it closely. It didn’t look much like a wound. “Wow, that must have hurt. No Band-Aid?”
Walter shook his curls from side-to-side. “Nope. I wanted Harry to know that I wasn’t a baby.”
“I would have cried,” I said.
Walter wrinkled his forehead at me while Chloe scratched her head.
“I doubt that,” Walter said.
John’s skeptical expression mimicked Walter’s words.
“You didn’t cry when I made your head split open,” Chloe said. “You’re pretty tough, Maggie.”
John nodded in agreement.
“Okay, maybe not, but, ouch!” My eyes met John’s gaze, still finding it difficult to breathe from his confession. Walter yanked at my hand until I bent down closer to him.
“You should have seen how bad Harry felt. It was great,” he whispered.
Walter’s breath tickled my ear and his delight captivated me. “I guess this was just a bonus,” I said, touching his button nose.
Chloe ran out of the room.
“Yeah,” Walter said before following in Chloe’s footsteps.
John and I stood side-by-side. The air filled with the electric charge from the youth that surrounded us. My mind raced. Clearing my throat, I scanned Winston’s collection of horseshoes, each one a little different in color and shape.
“Maggie, I meant what I said. This isn’t some fleeting notion.” John closed the space between us.
I leaned against the heavy pine desk with my hip. “Um,” I said, the papers beneath the silver horseshoe caught my attention. This was more than a marriage proposal. And I could hear my mother’s voice as I dissected the details of John’s intentions. “I don’t know what to s
ay.”
“I told you, I don’t want you to say anything. I just want you to know where I stand and what’s at stake.”
He touched my hand. His eyes spoke the truth.
“I have to check the barn. Want to tag along?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
Chapter 22
“Let’s leave the window open,” Chloe said. “We’ll be able to hear the night.”
I propped myself up on one elbow as I lay in bed. “Sounds like a nice idea.” Moonlight washed across the ceiling as Chloe knelt on her bed, raised the blinds, and cranked open the window. “What do you hear?” I whispered across the room.
Chloe scooted beneath the covers and put her hands behind her head. “I hear peace.”
Her eyes fluttered as the sandman dusted her soul with his magic sleeping potion. I watched her as she listened to the creek and serenading crickets while I held my secrets close, coveting John’s proposal.
“I liked it when you picked me up today,” Chloe said under her breath. “I miss my mom.”
“I bet it’s hard not having her around.” I blinked away the sandman as his spell drifted over me, too.
“Sometimes yes and sometimes no. You know how she is,” Chloe said, closing her eyes. She pushed the hair out of her face. “This hair is crazy. I don’t know how my mom does it.”
Shadows moved across the ceiling as I wondered if Ida May was watching over her granddaughter. “Do you want me to braid it so it’s not sticking to your face while you sleep?”
Chloe flipped over on her side. Her eyes glistened in the dark like a cat’s. “Really?”
“Really.” I kicked the sheet off and patted my mattress. Chloe snatched the hairbrush from the nightstand and sat beside me. I brushed her hair back. “My hair was always a tangled mess when I was your age. Glad would tell me I should cut it so she wouldn’t have to get the knots out.” Chloe’s hair reminded me of Brook, and I wondered how she’d feel if I married John.
“My mom likes long hair. So do I, but my dad doesn’t do it very good. He can brush it, but I always have to fix it,” Chloe said, rubbing Voodoo’s ear. “And, I’m not that good at it.”
“I like long hair, too,” I said, dividing her tresses into three thick strands. I wove it over and under until I reached the ends. Reaching for a hair tie from the nightstand, Chloe moved her head with me. “Sorry.” I looped and twisted the tie at the bottom of her braid. The scent of coconut shampoo tickled my nose. “There, all done.” Chloe scooted around until she was sitting knee-to-knee with me.
There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” Chloe whispered. John poked his head in. He was still in his jeans and T-shirt. He padded across the wood floor in his socks. Chloe held his gaze while hugging Voodoo. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hi,” he whispered. “Judy and Walter are asleep. Harry’s watching television downstairs. Just thought I’d check on you two.”
“Maggie braided my hair so I could sleep better.” Chloe fingered her braid then laid it over her shoulder in front of her to play with the ends.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want you to miss out on any good dreams.” I set the hairbrush back on the table.
“She’s not pestering you, is she?” John asked me.
“No, not at all. It’s kind of nice having a roommate.” In fact, it reminded me of the times when Bradley used to lay on my bed when he was frightened, and we’d talk into the night. Mostly he’d talk while I prayed to the heavens that he would just fall sleep.
“Well, I just wanted to say goodnight,” John said.
Chloe held out her arms to him and he swept her off my bed and into her own bed in one swift movement. John kissed her on the forehead as she wiggled beneath the covers to find the perfect spot just like Bones, and I couldn’t blame her because I was the same way. John picked Voodoo up from the floor and tucked the purple cat next to his daughter.
“Night, Dad.”
“Night, munchkin. Don’t keep Maggie awake.”
“I won’t,” she said.
“Night, Maggie,” John said.
“Night, cowboy. We promise we won’t stay up too long.” But I wasn’t so sure I’d ever fall asleep with his words stuck in my head.
Chloe let out a monumental sigh and closed her eyes. With a tiny wave, John shut the door slowly behind him as he left.
“Maggie,” Chloe said.
I wiggled under the sheet to find my sweet spot in the bed. “Yeah.”
Chloe yawned. “Would it be so bad if you guys decided to really like each other?”
It was as if the day had never happened, and Chloe and I had never left our room.
“I’m not sure how that would work,” I whispered into the night air that cooled the dark room. I couldn’t believe Chloe and I were talking about this. But then again, I couldn’t believe most of the things that happened today.
Chloe let out a gentle snore.
I peeked in her direction. “Chloe?”
She didn’t answer me.
When I thought she was truly asleep, I quit tossing and turning, and got out of bed. I slipped my feet into my moccasins, grabbed my fleece from the end of the bed, and padded through the hallway and down the stairs quietly. Harry was sacked out on the sofa and the light in Winston’s office glowed. I turned the knob of the front door and went outside. Leaning against one of the timber pillars, the Montana night sky sparkled with more stars than the eve before.
“Maggie,” John whispered.
He was sitting in the dark on the bench at the end of the porch. I zipped up my fleece and crossed my arms. “What are you doing out here?” I asked.
“Same thing you’re doing. Not sleeping.” John patted the bench beside him. I shuffled over and sat beside him.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “You know when we were out here earlier, I could see us when we’re old. Chloe was walking away and someday, she will, and when she does, I’ll be left here,” he said with a sigh, “but you’ve already experienced that with Bradley.”
“Yeah, I have.” But I imagined it wouldn’t be any easier saying goodbye to Chloe whether she was eight, eighteen, or eighty-eight. Saying goodbye never came easy for me. “I wonder what Bradley is doing tonight.” John squeezed my shoulder. I snuggled into him and rested my head against his burly chest. He nuzzled his face into my hair and his breath brushed against my cheek. “It’s going to be difficult leaving here.” The hitch in my throat caught my words.
“It’s going to be hard watching you drive away.”
I closed my eyes and chastised reality.
John kissed my left temple. “It’s the scars that give us character.”
I could feel the creases form at the corners of my eyes as I smiled. “I know.” I touched the place where Chloe had split open my head last summer like I’d done a thousand times before. My heart spilled over with love, finally admitting she’d ruptured my heart, too. “I wonder what my mom is doing.”
“I know you worry about her.”
I stared up into John’s eyes as we sat in the glow of the moon. “I do,” I said, making the confession. “Even if she gets under my skin sometimes.”
“I know how you feel.”
I nuzzled closer to the cowboy lassoing my heart.
“I think it’s a mom thing. My mom made my business her business. And as irritating as it was, I’d give my eye teeth to relive every disagreement, every opinion, just to have her with us.”
John’s words only reminded me that time eventually stops.
I wrapped my fingers around his hand on my shoulder then kissed them. “I’m sorry.” My words drifted off into the night.
“Thanks for being so nice to Chloe.”
The stars tugged at the corner of my mouth. “No problem. She keeps me on my toes.”
“Me too,” he said. “I know you’ve already raised your son and I know this isn’t what you had in mind, a guy with an eight-year-old.”
He was right, but I couldn’t say it.
I’d already lived through grade school, junior high, high school, and college with Bradley. I knew the effort and energy that it took. “It’s a lot to think about.” The night air filled my lungs. “I told you before, I don’t want to hurt her, or you. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine you saying what you said to me earlier.”
“I’m not sorry,” John said. “You needed to know, and I needed to say it.”
I laid my head against his chest, my heart in his hands, even though I don’t think he truly realized it yet.
John lifted my chin with his finger, his eyes focused on mine. “This isn’t an easy life, but it sure would be a hell of a lot better with your spunk around.”
“You think I have spunk?” I asked.
“Sure as hell do. When you peel away the sarcasm, break down the stubbornness, and ignore the unwarranted insecurity, you sure do. It’s in there, Maggie. You just need to let it out more often and not worry about the rest of the world.”
“Sarcasm and stubbornness are necessary to keep control,” I said. “What you’re proposing is a pretty tall order.”
“Maybe so, but well worth the effort.”
“Is this you fighting harder?”
“No, this is.”
John ran his finger down my jawline, over my neck, and across my collarbone. A shiver ran down my spine.
“Close your eyes, Maggie Abernathy.”
I shut my eyes and waited for him to kiss me, but he didn’t.
“Keep them closed.”
John’s breath warmed me as he whispered in my ear, “Okay.”
A soft moan escaped my lips as his lips grazed my neck.
“Just listen to your heart,” he whispered before letting his lips linger behind my ear, “it’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
Taking it all in, I listened. “Sounds like good advice. I can hear your heart, but I feel like mine is buried.”
“So get out your shovel and dig. It’s in there.” John stroked my hair. “Just have a little faith.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on. Apprehension sparked the hallows, and I scorned it for rearing its ugly head at a moment like this, a moment that might never come again. Filling my senses with all that was around me in the wee hours of a perfect Montana night, I held on to the perfect Montana man.
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