From Here to Home

by Marie Bostwick

  Linne’s eyes grew wide as she watched her aunt stride through the bedroom door. The sound of her high heels on the Mexican tile beat out an angry rhythm as she walked down the hall.

  “Is Uncle Rob Lee in trouble?” Linne asked her mother.

  Cady picked up an empty box and tossed it into the corner.

  “I hope so.”

  CHAPTER 19

  The sound of stomping feet and clucking chickens made Rob Lee stir in his sleep, but it wasn’t until someone kicked open the tack room door and snapped on the overhead lights that he truly woke up.

  “Dammit, Cady!” he shouted, then grabbed his head with both hands. Eyes screwed shut against the glare of the light, he let out a few more choice words, but in a quieter voice.

  “It’s not your sister,” a forcefully cheerful female voice drawled. “It is I, your loving aunt, coming to make sure you haven’t come down with a cold, or bubonic plague. I can’t think of any other reason for a working man to be lying in bed at this hour.” Mary Dell ripped the blankets off his bed.

  “Hey!” he shouted, wincing again at the sound of his own voice as he bolted upright and grabbed the sheet to cover himself.

  “When I was walking down from the house, right after I finished inspecting the great big dent in the bumper of your truck—what did you hit, by the way?—I ran into Fred and Cody. They were in the paddock with the vet, all by themselves, helping with the ultrasound and tagging the ewes that are carrying twins or triplets. Said they hadn’t seen you yet this morning, that you were probably still asleep.”

  She barked out an incredulous laugh.

  “I told them they had to be pulling my leg. I reminded them that I hired you to manage the ranch, and that, being a member of the family, I knew you’d never, ever dream of letting me down.

  “So,” Mary Dell said, bending down so her mouth was right next to Rob Lee’s ear, “I came out here to ask you one simple question. What in the hubs of hell is wrong with you?”

  She shouted so loudly that Rob Lee’s head throbbed like a stubbed toe. He raised his arms to cover his head, thinking how much his aunt had in common with one of the more sadistic drill sergeants he’d had in boot camp.

  “Had a rough night,” he rasped, then reached down to the floor, picked up his discarded jeans, and started putting them on.

  Mary Dell backed off and put her hands on her hips. “From what your sister tells me, you have had a series of rough nights. Rob Lee . . .” She moved her head from side to side, disappointment apparent in her face and voice. “Your dad drank himself into an early grave. Is that what you’re planning on doing?”

  “I wouldn’t say I was planning on it . . . ,” he said, his voice acid with sarcasm.

  What did she think she was doing, barging in here and trying to tell him what to do? And who did she think he was—Howard? No wonder his cousin couldn’t wait to get away from her. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized what a bossy old busybody his aunt was.

  He yanked his shirt over his head and stuffed his arms into the sleeves. “If I did decide to drink myself to death, why is it any of your business? What do you care?”

  “First and foremost because I’m your aunt, I love you, and I promised your momma I’d watch out for you. Also because I hired you to run this ranch, and from what I can see, you’re not doing it.”

  “Hey,” Rob Lee snapped, slapping his hands against the legs of his jeans, “if you’re unhappy with the way I’m running things, I’ll pack my gear and leave. No problem.”

  Rob Lee backed off toward the other side of the room, but Mary Dell advanced toward him, refusing to break eye contact even when he turned his head away.

  “Oh, I see. So now you’re going to run away? Where to? Your brother won’t have you. You’ve already burned that bridge.”

  “What do you care where I go?”

  “On the day you were born, your momma put you in my arms and I put Howard, born only hours after you, into her arms. The two of us cooed over each of you just as if the baby in our arms had come from our own body. That’s how I felt about you, like I was holding my second son. I always knew that if anything happened to me, Lydia Dale would have stepped up and taken care of Howard. Just the way I’ve tried to step in for her with you and your brother and sister. I know you’re a grown man, Rob Lee, but I love you. And if your momma were here, she’d be standing right here, saying the same things I’m saying. She’d have hated to see you like this.”

  He turned away again and started picking up dirty clothes from the floor, his walk shuffling and shoulders slumped, moving slowly. Mary Dell stayed where she was, talking to his back.

  “I know that you’ve been through things I can’t possibly imagine. I also know you’re trying your hardest to forget them but, from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like that’s working. You know I’d do anything in the world to help you. So would your sister. But if we can’t . . . then please, baby, find somebody who can.”

  Her voice became even quieter and a little raspy. Even though Rob Lee couldn’t see her face, he could tell there were tears in her eyes.

  “Nick is dead,” she continued. “Nothing can change that. But you’re still here, and I think there’s a reason for that. Cady needs you, and so does Linne. And, for that matter, so do I. Don’t you see? We’re family. We rise and fall and get back up together.”

  Hearing her sniffling as she tried to keep tears back, Rob Lee wished he could cry too. He wished he could hug her, say he was sorry, that it would be all right and that he would do better. But even he didn’t believe that.

  “The enemy wanted to kill you and failed. Please, don’t finish the job for him now that you’re home. There’s too many people who are counting on you. Too many people who love you.”

  He felt a hand on his shoulder and knew she was waiting for him to turn around and say something, but he just couldn’t.

  There was a noise in the driveway, the sound of rubber on gravel.

  “Who’s that?” he mumbled.

  Mary Dell’s hand fell away from his shoulder. “Not sure. I didn’t think the moving truck would be here for a couple of hours yet. But maybe they got an early start.” She was quiet for a moment. “You want to help them unload? We could use an extra pair of hands.”

  “Sure. I’ll be up in a bit.”

  “All right, then. Grandma’s making breakfast if you’re hungry.”

  He shook his head. “I’m good.”

  When she left, he stuffed his T-shirt into the waist of his jeans, put on a belt and a pair of clean socks, and then pulled on his boots. The tack room didn’t have a bathroom, but there was a sink against the wall, and so he brushed his teeth, spat out the toothpaste, then looked into the mirror.

  The dead, aged eyes looked strange and familiar at the same time, like somebody he might have known a long time ago.

  Rob Lee checked in with the ranch hands and left some instructions about what they were to do next. After that, he stopped by the paddock to say hello to Sarabeth, a patient old palomino mare that had belonged to his grandpa Dutch before he passed. Rob Lee had ridden Sarabeth when he was a teenager and was riding her again now—when he was getting out on the range and doing the job Aunt Mary Dell was asking him to do, which, he admitted to himself, wasn’t very often.

  He felt guilty about that, and angry at his aunt for pointing it out, but mostly angry at himself for sliding so far that she’d had to. If he wasn’t family, she’d have fired him—and been right to do so. A part of him wished she would.

  He grabbed a couple of carrots out of a nearby bin, held them out over the top of the fence, and clicked his tongue against his teeth. Sarabeth’s ears perked up at the sound. She lifted her head from a small tuft of brown, dry grass she’d been eating and started walking toward him, nearly trotting as she got closer. Considering her age, twenty-one, Sarabeth still had a lot of pep. Rob Lee fed her carrots while scratching her on the forelock, between her eyes and up to the base of her mane.
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  “You’re a good old girl, aren’t you? Good girl. Bet you’re bored hanging around the paddock. Sorry I’ve been neglecting you. Don’t take it personal; you’re not the only one. Tell you what, tomorrow we’ll go out for a long ride, stretch your legs, eh? I’ll check the fences and you can get some fresh pasture. Sound good?”

  When Sarabeth finished eating, Rob Lee headed up to the house, slowly. Contrary to what he’d told his aunt, he really was hungry. Grandma Taffy’s scrambled eggs, bacon, and a side of biscuits and gravy would have been the best way to set his queasy stomach right, but he’d rather suffer through nausea than sit at the table, listening to Linne constantly begging him to teach her to ride and feeling his sister glaring at him while he came up with reasons not to.

  But he would come up and help unload the moving truck. That was something he could do for his family without actually having to talk to them. He could do a better job running the ranch without talking to them too. He had to stop drinking so much. And he would, he promised himself. Next time he went to the Ice House, he’d have two beers, no more, stay away from the hard stuff, and come home at a reasonable hour.

  He could do better. He just had to get hold of himself, try a little harder, and get his act together. And he would. Aunt Mary Dell was right; if his mother were alive to see that face he’d seen in the mirror, that tired old man with eyes like coal pits, it would have broken her heart.

  He walked up to the house, wondering what had happened to the movers. He didn’t see a truck anywhere, but there was a Jeep parked in the driveway. Somebody must be visiting.

  He thought about turning around and going back to the barn, maybe saddling up Sarabeth and riding out to check those fences, but since he’d promised Mary Dell he’d come up to the house, he figured he’d better stick his head in and say hello. Hopefully, they’d all be so busy with their company that he wouldn’t have to stay for long.

  Aunt Mary Dell and the others were sitting around the kitchen table. Their guest, that girl from the rental, Holly, twisted around in her chair and beamed when he came in.

  “Look who the cat dragged in!” Grandma Taffy said, and then, “You want some breakfast, Rob Lee?”

  Before he could decline the offer, she was up on her feet, pulling a pan of biscuits from the oven, putting them on a plate, and ladling cream gravy over the top. Not wanting to be rude, he pulled up a chair and started to eat.

  “We’ve been talking about the show a little bit,” Aunt Mary Dell said by way of catching him up. “Holly was nice enough to come out here and introduce herself to me before we start filming next week.”

  Rob Lee bobbed his head and said, “Good idea,” because he wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to say.

  “Actually,” Holly said, her expression a bit apologetic, “I didn’t realize you were back in town yet, but I’m really happy to see you and start kicking around ideas. But,” she said, turning toward the end of the table, “you’re the real reason I came out here so early.”

  Rob Lee heard her words, but since he was sitting hunched over his plate of biscuits, he didn’t realize she was talking to him until a long, uncomfortable silence had him lifting his head to see what was wrong and his eyes met Holly’s.

  “Who? You mean me?”

  “Yeah. I’ve done something . . . well, it’s a little crazy. But it’s the right thing to do—I’m sure it is. If I don’t do it, who will? But I can’t handle it alone. I don’t have the experience. You’re the only person I could think of who might be able to help me. Anyway,” she continued, sounding almost breathless as she tried to wrap up her explanation, which, with every word, just left Rob Lee feeling more confused, “I was wondering . . . if you have time, that is . . . would you mind coming with me on a little field trip? I need your advice.”

  CHAPTER 20

  “I told her she was crazy. Even if she knew what she was doing, which she don’t,” Mrs. Finley said, talking to Rob Lee, who was standing a few paces back from the paddock, watching Stormy stomp the ground and snort when the trainer attempted to approach him, “it’d still be crazy.”

  Holly had to fight off the urge to remind Mrs. Finley that she was standing right next to her and could hear every word she said. In another moment, she might have, but then Mary Dell spoke up on her behalf.

  “That’s why Holly went looking for help. She might not know much about horses, but Rob Lee does. His stepdaddy taught him everything he knows.”

  “There was no better horseman in the county than Graydon,” Mrs. Finley conceded. “Except maybe your husband, Donny. Those Bebee brothers could handle anything with hooves. My Harlan always said so. And Harlan knew horses. And people.”

  Mrs. Finley swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Mary Dell put one arm over her shoulder and gave her a squeeze.

  “Yes, he did,” she said. “He was a fine man. God rest his soul.”

  Holly was glad she’d invited Mary Dell to tag along at the last minute. She’d mostly done so out of politeness. Mary Dell owned the F-Bar-T and Rob Lee worked for her, so if Holly was going to board Stormy at the ranch and ask for Rob Lee’s help with training the horse, assuming he could be trained, Mary Dell would have to approve of the arrangement.

  Another reason Holly had invited Mary Dell to join them was because she thought it would make the seven-mile drive out to the Finley ranch less awkward. Rob Lee was a great-looking guy—or had been when she’d seen him at the cottage; right now, he really did look like something the cat dragged in—but he sure didn’t say much.

  It was so weird, because that first time she’d met him, he’d had plenty to say and he hadn’t hesitated to stand up to Rachel. She’d found that pretty intriguing, and after he’d come to her rescue by recruiting Cady to be her quilting coach, she’d hoped they might make a connection. But on the rare occasions she’d seen him since then, when he came over to do a little work on the house or in the yard, he barely said a word to her. Cady said he barely spoke to anyone, so she tried not to take it personally, but the thought of a silent car ride with somebody whose thoughts were impossible to read wasn’t appealing.

  Mary Dell, on the other hand, had no trouble talking. With Holly at the wheel of the Jeep and Mary Dell riding shotgun, Holly nearly forgot that Rob Lee was in the back. While he stared wordlessly out the window, she and Mary Dell gabbed, marveling again about what an amazing coincidence it had been for them to run into each other in the airport and have had a conversation without ever realizing they’d be working together in just a few months.

  “When you walked through the door,” Mary Dell said, “I couldn’t believe it. I was as surprised as a pup with his first porcupine.”

  “I know, right? What were the chances?”

  “Slim to none. Which means it was just meant to be. It was written in the stars. Or quilted in the stars. Something like that.” She chuckled. “Anyway, I’ve got a good feeling about you.”

  “Even though I can only sew four beginner’s blocks?”

  “That’s four more than you could sew a couple of weeks ago. Sounds like you’re a fast learner.” Holly gave her a doubtful look and Mary Dell said, “Listen, baby girl, everybody has something special to bring to the party. Sure, you’re a novice, but there might be ways we can use that to our advantage.”

  Holly cracked out a laugh. “Like how? Film a segment on how not to thread your bobbin?”

  “I’ve got a few ideas,” Mary Dell assured her. “Just give me a couple of days to think it through. But you’re going to be a good addition, Holly. I’m sure of it.”

  Holly was sure Mary Dell was just trying to build up her confidence, but she was relieved they were getting along so well. It couldn’t have been easy for Mary Dell, having her own son replaced on the show she had created, and knowing that Jason was working against her. Of course, maybe she didn’t know.

  Holly wondered if she should talk to her about that. But if she told Mary Dell about her meeting with Jason, and the design show he was
dangling in front of her, wouldn’t that put a wedge between them? Make Mary Dell think she was some kind of double agent? It was probably smarter to keep quiet about it all. But that didn’t mean she’d be working against her. She liked Mary Dell. Who wouldn’t?

  Mary Dell in real life was exactly like she was on those old episodes of Quintessential Quilting Holly had watched—warm, funny, self-deprecating, motherly, kind, and in spite of the countrified way she had of speaking, dressing, and acting, very smart. That was the thing that impressed Holly most—it wasn’t an act, not any of it. Mary Dell Templeton didn’t just play a good person on television; she was a good person. She was genuine.

  Having grown up in the entertainment business, Holly knew how rare that was.

  Rob Lee was standing a few feet off while the women talked, wrapped up in his thoughts, his eyes fixed on Stormy. When the trainer tried to move closer to grab hold of the short lead rope that was attached to Stormy’s halter, the horse whinnied and reared up on his back legs.

  Rob Lee called out, “That’s all right, Bill. Just let him be.”

  The trainer, Bill, backed off. Stormy calmed down immediately but stayed in the far corner of the paddock, as far from people as possible. Bill quickly hopped over the fence, looking a little relieved.

  Rob Lee nodded and said, “Thanks. I’ve seen what I need to see.” Bill returned his nod and headed toward the barn.

  “See what I mean?” Mrs. Finley said as Rob Lee walked toward the women. “Can’t nobody touch that horse, let alone ride him. You saw how he was with Bill. He could have killed him if he’d a mind to.”

  “Yes, ma’am. He could have,” Rob Lee said, dipping his head a bit. “But he didn’t. So that means he didn’t have a mind to. Tell me about him. How’d a pissed-off Standardbred end up on a quarter horse ranch?”

  “About six years back, we got a call from a horse rescue. You know Harlan did a little work with them now and then, stabling and fostering horses that they’d rescued from livestock auctions until the rescue could find new owners for them. He fostered a few horses over the years. But nobody ever wanted Stormy; he’s just too wild. Early on, Harlan tried to gentle him. One day, Lord knows how, he managed to get a saddle on him, but Stormy threw him.”