Bitter Roots

by C. J. Carmichael

  Mari came then with their burgers, and the smoky, fresh-grilled smell made Tiff absolutely ravenous. Zak lifted the top of his hamburger bun and marveled. “They actually remembered to leave off the onions this time.”

  “I shouldn’t have reminded her. I love getting your extras.”

  Tiff got home just after eight-thirty. Her aunt had started watching the third season of The Fall, with a fresh bowl of popcorn and some sparkling water with lemon on the coffee table in front of her.

  “Want to watch with me? I can go back to the beginning of this episode.”

  Tiff studied her aunt’s face, noting the dark circles under her eyes. It was so easy to take her aunt, and all she did for the family, for granted. “No, I think I’ll check on Mom. How was your day at the clinic? You look tired.”

  “It was rather grueling. Fall influenza season is upon us I’m afraid.”

  Tiff hesitated. “And how is Dr. Pittman?”

  “Oh, fine. He is loving being a grandfather to his son’s new daughter. Geneva is all he ever talks about these days.”

  Was that a bit of jealousy in her aunt’s voice? “That all happened so fast, didn’t it? Willow coming back to town with her daughter, and then Justin marrying her and adopting the girl?”

  “As you recall, Justin and Willow were inseparable when they were younger, so their getting married so quickly wasn’t as rash as it might appear. But Geneva is a quiet, peculiar little child if you ask me. Reminds me of a lost chick who has fallen from the nest. Of course Clark has always been drawn to vulnerable people like that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh his wife Franny was always a frail woman. He just doted on her, to an extreme, frankly. However, his caring nature is what makes him such a good doctor, so I guess I shouldn’t complain, even if it does mean he sometimes takes capable, strong women like me for granted.”

  “Aunt Marsha, do you have feelings for Dr. Pittman?”

  “What? Romantic feelings?” Her aunt’s laugh sounded forced. “No, Tiff, that wasn’t what I meant at all. There is no unrequited love between me and Clark.”

  Tiff smiled, but wasn’t convinced. Her aunt and Clark had been disagreeing about something earlier this evening. The fact that it hadn’t come up in this conversation told her Aunt Marsha was being far from open with her.

  Tiff offered to read to her mother that evening and was surprised when her mother said yes, and again when she discovered she enjoyed it. Lately she was finding it easier to be kind to her mother, rather than judgmental and angry. Maybe it was a sign of her own maturity.

  At ten o’clock her aunt came up with tea for Rosemary, as well as a sleeping pill. Tiff said good night to both of them then tried to do some reading in her own room.

  After reading the same page over and over, she put the book down and turned out the light. She’d forgotten to close her curtains earlier, and now a stream of moonlight was falling directly on her pillow. She went to the window and gazed out at the front yard. A mean wind had started a few hours ago. Now it was rustling the fir trees and causing one long branch to rub against the metal roof.

  She remembered when she was younger, how this house had felt like such a sanctuary to her. So much so that she’d found the sound of winter storms comforting. She hadn’t even minded the occasional howling of coyotes until her father explained that they were probably the culprits behind the disappearance of their old barn cat Jasper.

  With a pull of the curtains, she shut out the view, then, still feeling restless, wandered out to the hall. Lights were off in both her aunt’s and her mother’s rooms. She looked across the hall to her brother’s old bedroom. Quietly she made her way to it, easing the door open and then slipping inside.

  It was darker here on the west side of the house, but she didn’t need to turn on the light to know the bed was still covered in the brown and green quilt that had been Casey’s favorite. He’d been a hockey fan—the only time she could remember him complaining about his weak heart had been when their parents told him he could not sign up to play with all his friends—and the walls were covered with posters of all his favorites from the LA Kings, most prominently Wayne Gretzky.

  The sound of the trees creaking and groaning was even louder in here. Tiff went to the window and peered out at the firs lined along this side of the house. They’d been planted at least twenty feet too close to the house, and had been heavily pruned, but her parents had never had the heart to have them cut down.

  A dark shape moving beyond the trees caught her eye and Tiff tensed.

  Someone was headed for the barn. Kenny? It was too dark and the distance too far to be certain, except for one fact. Who else could it be?

  The figure disappeared behind a rise in the ground, and for several minutes after that Tiff saw nothing.

  Then a faint light appeared from inside the barn. Slowly the light progressed through the building, finally stopping at a room in the back.

  The office.

  Tiff put a hand to her chest, she could feel her heart pounding fast and hard. It had to be Kenny and there wasn’t one good reason for him to be prowling about the office at this time of night. She didn’t feel brave enough to go confront him. Nor did she feel she could call out for help from her aunt or a neighbor. What would she accuse Kenny of...working late?

  She stayed at the window for over twenty minutes, until finally the light went out in the barn and the dark form retraced his steps to the guest cottage.

  Chapter Twenty

  Generally four times a year the matriarch of the Lazy S—at 88,000 acres, the largest ranch in Bitterroot County—came into town to modify her will. Justin never had forewarning of when these meetings would take place, since at ninety-one years of age Lacy Stillman did not make appointments. In her words, “How can I promise to be in a certain location at a certain time when I don’t even know if I’ll be waking up the next morning?”

  Despite the hours of unnecessary work she caused him—most of which, in good conscience, he didn’t bill—Justin enjoyed her visits and colorful conversation. Lacy Stillman had absolutely no filter and no compunction in sharing every detail of her life, and those of her married sons Eugene and Clayton, who each had their own ranch houses on the home quarter.

  Wednesday morning brought Lacy into his office early, in fact when he arrived with key in hand at nine a.m., she was waiting on the street. A tiny woman, she was always decked out in the very finest of Western wear. Today she had a semiprecious gemstone-studded buckle on the belt holding up her Wranglers, as well as a beautifully embroidered Western-style shirt, a fitted sheepskin jacket, and dangling earrings of turquoise and red jasper to match her belt.

  “What kind of lawyer starts his day at nine a.m.?” Lacy wanted to know as she followed him up the stairs with a spring to her step that belied her age by about three decades.

  “A lot of them, I’d guess.” On the landing, he stopped to unlock his door, then held it open for her to walk ahead.

  “I’ve been up since five-thirty, young man. Had my toast and coffee and supervised the chores. I tell you, if I don’t keep my eye on things, nothing gets done proper. Place will probably go to hell in a handbasket once I’m gone.”

  “Would you like another coffee, Lacy?” He turned on the machine in the corner and then refilled the water tank.

  “I already had two cups at the Snowdrift, waiting for you to open. You go ahead and make one for yourself though. Eugene’s wife has one of those fancy machines too. I guess cowboy coffee isn’t good enough for her.”

  By cowboy coffee Lacy meant coffee boiled in water over a camp stove—or in Lacy’s case, over her old-fashioned wood-burning stove. Justin had visited her ranch home, twenty miles from town, several times in the past and always felt like he was stepping back in time when he did so.

  Lacy clung to tradition and the old cowboy way of life, while her sons Eugene and Clayton pushed for her to accept more modern and efficient ways of doing things.

&
nbsp; Leaving the coffee machine to warm up, Justin ushered Lacy to his office and pulled back a chair for her. “So how can I help you today?”

  “You’ve got to fix my will. For years and years my boys have been begging me to buy these glorified golf carts for the ranch. They say they need them to get around the ranch quickly. I say, isn’t that what our horses are for?”

  “Horses need to be tacked up to get started, and groomed when the work is done. UTVs run with the turn of a key.”

  “Don’t you start on me too, young man. Nothing beats a good quarter horse when it comes to ranch work. And we’ve got tractors for the heavy work. I’ve been really clear about that, but this weekend Eugene went out and bought two of those contraptions for the ranch. Spent over thirty thousand dollars!”

  “In his defense, Lacy, most of the larger ranches use UTVs as well as horses these days.”

  “We have standards at the Lazy S. At least, as long as I’m alive we do.” Her shoulders sagged a little. “Unfortunately Eugene figures we’ll lose too much money if he takes them back, so we’re stuck with them.”

  Justin waited for what he knew could come next.

  “But I want you to take thirty thousand dollars off his share of my estate. He had no business spending that money without my consent.”

  “You’re sure about that, Lacy?”

  “Darn tooting.”

  “Okay, I’ll draw up an amendment and bring it out for you to sign in a few days.”

  She gave a long sigh of relief. “Thank you, Justin. Those boys got to learn, when they don’t listen there are consequences. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go drop some puppies off at the animal shelter in Hamilton.”

  “Puppies?”

  “That silly wife of Clayton’s had to go buy a purebred border collie last year. Before she got her fixed, that collie went out socializing and ended up fraternizing with the neighbor’s mutt. Net result? Four puppies, and while they’re cute as hell, we can only keep one of them.”

  “How old are they?” He and Willow hadn’t talked about pets. But a puppy might be just the thing to bring Geneva out of her shell.

  “Twelve weeks. Justin Pittman, are you thinking of adopting one of them?”

  Before he could answer, a wide smile bloomed over her sun-worn and wrinkled face. “You absolutely should take one of these pups. They’d be perfect for that little daughter of yours.” Lacy pointed to the girl at the center of the family portrait he’d recently added to his bookshelf.

  “No family is complete without a dog,” Lacy added, her smile turning smug, as if she knew she’d already sealed the deal.

  Justin meant to check with Willow before he committed, but Lacy’s enthusiasm made no room for telephone calls. His first look at the puppies melted his heart anyway. He couldn’t imagine saying no. They were mutts all right, but with adorable faces and brown eyes that pleaded for love.

  “You won’t be sorry. This little darlin’ is going to bring so much happiness into your home,” Lacy promised him, as she handed him the puppy along with a tattered, grayish towel that smelled of urine, and a small plastic bag with about one scoop of kibble.

  Soon Lacy was back in her vintage Ford pick-up, spewing a cloud of blue smoke before chugging off toward the highway.

  Justin glanced down at the puppy’s face. What in the world had he done? Not only had he neglected to consult his wife, but they were completely unprepared to care for this pup. No food, no leash, no kennel, no toys. Nothing.

  He’d have to buy all that before he brought the puppy home. Since the hardware store had shut down, however, there was no place in town to get pet supplies. Dr. Morgan might have some appropriate puppy food at his vet clinic, even though he specialized in large animals. But he wouldn’t have any of the other stuff.

  A drive to Hamilton was definitely in order. Which meant he had to cancel his other morning appointments and lock up his office.

  He lined a cardboard banker’s box with paper towels from the restroom. After a moment’s hesitation, he added the stinky towel, figuring the familiar odors would probably be comforting for the dog. Before getting in his vehicle, he gave the pup a drink of water, then set her on a patch of snow to pee. She immediately began lifting her paws, signaling she was cold.

  So he set her back in her box, then proceeded to the pet store in Hamilton where he dropped almost three hundred dollars in supplies. By the time he’d made it home, it was well past noon. He carried the puppy in her new, blanket-lined crate inside the back entry.

  “Hello! Anyone home?”

  Not in the kitchen or adjoining dining room, though crumbs on the countertop and a jar of peanut butter suggested Willow had made a hasty lunch.

  Then he heard muffled voices in the hall. A moment later, Willow appeared dressed in her winter coat and boots. She’d put on makeup and her black hair was sleek and shining. She was always pretty but he’d forgotten how absolutely stunning she looked when she got all done up.

  “You look fabulous.”

  “Geneva and I were just going out.” Her gaze dropped to the crate. “What’s this?”

  “I had a meeting with Lacy Stillman first thing this morning.”

  “From the Lazy S? She must be ancient by now.”

  They’d toured the ranch when they were in grade school and Lacy had seemed so old to them then. “She’s still a whirl of energy. She was headed to the animal shelter after our meeting with a litter of unwanted puppies. Somehow she talked me into taking one.”

  Willow’s eyes widened.

  “I know I should have called and checked with you. But Lacy can be pretty persuasive. And I thought having a puppy would be good for Geneva.”

  “You don’t think we have enough to deal with?”

  He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, or who was included in her use of “we.” Before he could ask, Geneva trailed into the room. Standing in her mother’s shadow, she glanced cautiously from him to the crate he’d set on the floor.

  “Want to see what’s inside?” Showing Geneva the puppy before Willow agreed they should keep her wasn’t playing fair. But he couldn’t resist. As soon as he unlatched the crate the curious pup stuck her nose out and sniffed. Apparently deciding all was well, she stepped onto the wood plank flooring. Then, as if posing for a calendar shot, she cocked her head to one side.

  “Ohhh, she’s so cute,” Geneva said, and even Willow smiled.

  The puppy started exploring then, sniffing the floor, gobbling up the crumbs around Geneva’s chair.

  “What’s her name?” Tentatively Geneva moved closer. “Can I pet her?”

  “She doesn’t have a name yet. We’ll have to think of one. And sure you can pet her. If she stands still long enough.”

  Geneva followed the puppy as she sniffed around the kitchen perimeter. Once the pup checked out the room, she pivoted to Geneva, sniffing her hands, then allowing the girl to run her little fingers tentatively down her back.

  “She’s so soft. Since she likes exploring can we call her Dora?”

  Justin couldn’t stop smiling. It wasn’t often he heard Geneva say much more than one or two words and even those only came when he asked her questions. “Fine with me. How about you, Willow?”

  “I guess it’s just assumed I’ll agree to keep her?”

  Geneva’s face crumpled with dejection, but she didn’t plead with her mother. Instead, she turned to him, and he realized she was looking to him to support the cause.

  “Admittedly puppies are a lot of work. And I won’t be here to help during the day. But the rest of the time, I’ll take care of everything: the feeding, the training, getting up with her if she cries at night. If you want I could take her to the office now and then to give you a break.”

  Geneva’s gaze swung back to her mom. Her hands were cupped under her chin in unconscious supplication.

  The puppy had worked her way around to Willow now, and was sniffing her stylish black boots. Willow crouched so she could pet the little t
hing. “No fair ambushing me like this, Justin. How could I possibly say no?”

  When she glanced up at him, though, she was smiling.

  “Yay!” Geneva’s squeal startled the puppy, but Dora recovered quickly, barking in reply and then running circles around the room. Geneva followed behind, laughing and trying to catch up.

  Relieved, Justin decided it was safe to bring in the rest of the supplies: a container of puppy food, the plush dog bed, and a bag filled with toys and treats, as well as a harness and a leash. By the time he’d finished, Geneva’s coat and boots were abandoned on the floor and she had the puppy curled up on her lap.

  “Where’s your mom?”

  “She went to the bathroom.”

  He walked down the hall, past the front door and toward the bedrooms. From behind the closed bathroom door he heard the faint murmur of Willow’s voice. From the way she paused occasionally, he guessed she was on the phone. She could have decided to make her call from the bathroom in case the puppy made too much noise. Or maybe she hadn’t wanted to be overheard.

  He put a hand on the doorknob, fighting the urge to push it open.

  But besides being rude, that would solve nothing, other than annoying Willow and causing her to disconnect her call.

  He went back to the kitchen and set up Dora’s new food and water bowls in an unobtrusive corner. Geneva and Dora were now playing tug-of-war with one of the new rope toys. Geneva started giggling. “She’s really strong, Justin!”

  His new daughter’s laughter was a marvelous thing, and he was enjoying it when the puppy suddenly dashed for her water bowl and began lapping madly.

  “Oh, she’s so thirsty!” Geneva clapped her hands together. It seemed everything the puppy did absolutely delighted her.

  “We should take her outside for a pee when she’s finished drinking.” Justin rummaged through the shopping bag, looking for the little booties he’d purchased to protect the puppy’s paws from the snow, but he was too slow. The pup had dashed from her water bowl to Geneva’s coat and promptly squirted out a stream of pee.