by Vivian Arend
Dinner finished, Dustin and the girls headed to the sink to do clean up. Emma snuck back and turned on the Wizard of Oz, music and singing filling the room.
Dustin groaned in mock pain. “Emma, no. We’ve heard this a million times over the past month.”
“The girls are in a play at the end of the summer. Get used to it, Uncle Dustin, because if you hang around, you’ll hear a lot more of it.” Tamara patted him on the shoulder then moved to put away the leftovers.
Caleb tipped his head toward the door, and Walker nodded, stopping to grab his coat.
“We’ll be back,” Caleb told Tamara.
“You’ll be back,” Walker said. “I’ll be turning in after chores. Thanks again for supper,” he offered to his sister-in-law.
“Anytime,” she returned. “Stop by for coffee some morning if you’d like. You know where to find me. Only, use the porch, Dynamite. We need to get the roof re-shingled before anyone goes stomping around up there.”
He grinned. “Rooftop approach reserved for Santa. Got it.”
Marching across the well-worn path toward the barns, Caleb at his side, was a feeling as familiar as breathing to Walker, yet…strange. Something felt different. Caleb seemed more centered. More whole.
And he…
He was different, but damn if Walker could figure out what was bugging him, other than his feet were restless and his roots felt disturbed. He felt like a tumbleweed that was wishing it was time to dig in deep, but the winds weren’t finished with it yet.
They worked in silence for a while, Walker because he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say and Caleb because the man had the patience of a rock. Walker wasn’t sure it was possible to outlast his brother.
When it came to waiting it out, Caleb always had been the best of them.
But apparently, Tamara’s presence had brought about another change, because before Walker could find a way to introduce the topic, Caleb did.
“Tamara touched on it, but I guess I should straight-up tell you that we didn’t expect you to show up. Not until after the Stampede.”
Walker stroked a hand over Hannibal’s nose. “Needed a break.”
“Not a problem on our end.” Caleb looked thoughtful before adding, “Problems on your end?”
Caleb had to have seen or heard about Walker’s near-disastrous final run. “I didn’t get hurt, if that’s what you’re asking. Shook me up a bit, though. I guess I need some time to figure out if this is really what I want to do for a while longer or if it’s time to get out of the chute.”
His brother stopped working, turning his full attention on Walker. Yeah, the near admission he was close to quitting rodeo had to be a bit of a shocker.
Yet if he couldn’t find a way to deal with his problem that was exactly what was going to have to happen. And if he found a way to deal with this problem, there was the whole other possibility he hadn’t even yet mentioned to his family.
The secrets were building, fast and thick.
Caleb’s gaze grew as solid and firm as his response. “Find your feet. We’re here for you. Whatever you need.”
Even as relief rushed over him, Walker felt as if he were all of the companions on Emma’s Yellow Brick Road. He wasn’t smart enough to figure this out. He’d had a heart once, but it had been taken from him. His courage was in the shitter. And coming home was the only thing he had—yet something felt off.
But he’d spend more time pondering it when he wasn’t tying up his brother’s night. “I know you’ve got my back, and I’m glad. Thanks.” He eyed Caleb with suspicion. “What’s up with Dustin?”
A huge sigh escaped Caleb. “Other than he seems obsessed with my wife?”
Walker attempted to hold back a laugh and failed miserably. “Oh my God, are you jealous our kid brother is getting attention from Tamara?”
“Not jealous, not really. It’s just…it’s not right.” Caleb looked as grumpy and gloomy as he had a year ago, before Tamara had come into his life. “She’s…I mean, there’s nothing wrong. And she would never…and Dustin would never. But…she’s mine, dammit.”
Oh brother. In the category of things Walker had never expected to have to deal with…
He schooled his expression to stay as straight and serious as possible. “I didn’t see anything wrong with what the kid was doing tonight during dinner, so unless he’s been stepping over the line at other times…?”
Caleb looked sheepish. “No. I’m just grumpy, I guess.”
“You said it, not me,” Walker teased softly. “It looks as if Dustin is admiring your taste in choosing a lifetime partner this go-round. Tamara can handle some hero-worship without it going to her head.”
“Of course she can. And the kid isn’t doing anything wrong—you’re right about that. He’s always underfoot, though. I swear Dustin moved back in when I wasn’t looking.”
“It’s not just Tamara, bro. He wants to be around you. That’s not a bad thing. You’ve been a dad to him for longer than our father was in his life.”
Caleb stilled. “You’re right. God, I hadn’t even thought of it that way.”
And most of the time Walker wouldn’t have either, but the truth was the years since his parents’ accident had been weighing heavily on his mind.
Seeing Ivy had brought back more than just the good memories from their high school days.
One snowy February day, the lives of the Stone family had been irrevocably changed. The stabbing pain of guilt crashed against him, and Walker had to turn away in case it showed on his face.
Luckily, Caleb had moved on to problem-solving. “Maybe it’s time I do like Dad did to me when I was first starting out. Get Dustin put on a few more long-range cattle drives. Give him some more responsibility.”
“Things that send him away from home a little more?”
“Still with Ashton or some of the hands he knows best.” Caleb nodded slowly. “That could work.”
“It doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me.” Walker leaned back against the nearest support post. “If there’s any new stock that needs to be picked up in Montana or the Dakotas, he’s old enough to do the drive.”
“We’re not doing any buying for a while, Walker. Budget has been tightened down and watched closely.” Caleb’s body posture stiffened with the admission.
The confession had all the signs of a big problem. “How much trouble is Silver Stone in?”
Caleb’s hesitation was too clear. “Not sure yet. The floods a couple years back did more damage than we realized. And I didn’t want to bother you when you’d just left, but we ended up having to cull part of the herd in late February. Even though supply demands were down, we had to buy feed—I should let you talk to Tamara because she’s been doing the books, but, yeah. It’s not good. We’ve got that oil exploration thing started, but so far there’s little progress. We have to buckle down for now.”
It wasn’t at all what Walker had expected to hear. Silver Stone Ranch had done well. Maybe not outrageously successful over the years, but they’d always earned more than enough to get by. Or at least that’s what he’d thought, although it had been Caleb and Luke making the decisions.
“Well, I’m sure you can turn it around,” Walker assured his brother.
“We’ll do our damnedest.”
They worked together until it was time for Caleb to head back to the house where his family was waiting for him—to his little girls and the woman who’d joined them and filled the place with love.
Where their little brother was probably hanging out, being both a pain in Caleb’s ass and a reminder of everything he’d accomplished and worked toward after being tossed into a position of responsibility so many years ago.
Walker turned, feeling very alone and useless.
It seemed inevitable he’d end up on the hillside where his parents’ graves were, overlooking the two lakes. He slid off Hannibal’s back and let the reins fall to the ground as he stepped toward the simple stone markers.
A lingering gust of wind swept in, icy cold from passing over still-snowclad mountains to the west. That’s all it was, but what it felt like was death brushing past, carrying a memory of the hurt and the pain of those early days. The sorrow and the guilt.
Walker stared down at the two gravestones, side by side. “I hate that we never had time to change things, Dad,” he admitted. “Of all the shitty days for me to pick a fight.”
Although, it had been less about Walker being an ass and more about his father pointing the fact out to him…
* * *
Walker had known he was going to be late for chores again, but this time it wasn’t deliberate. He’d been fooling around at Heart Falls, tossing rocks against the frozen surface and daydreaming about Ivy when his horse had up and taken off on him.
He’d been halfway home on foot when his dad rode up and held out a hand.
Walker took it, swinging up behind his father. They’d rode in silence for the time it took to get back to the barns.
He’d tried to bolt the minute they got within range, but his dad called him back. “Your horse is in his stall. Give him a brush down before you get to your chores.”
“Yes, sir.”
Walter Stone looked him over. “That’s all you got to say?”
“I tethered him, I don’t know why he decided to take off on me. It’s not my fault.”
His dad raised a brow. “Accidents happen, but maybe you shouldn’t have gone out for a ride when you knew chores were due to start.”
“I would’ve only been a little bit late, even if I had to walk the whole way,” Walker had grumbled. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Come on. I might’ve accepted that when you were fourteen, but you’ve got a month to go before you’re considered an adult by most of the world. Eighteen is old enough to be able to tell time and get your ass in here to do your job.”
“I’ll work late,” Walker snapped.
“Some of the time that works, but not when you’re supposed to go out with the crew. And I don’t know why I’m having to explain this to you, because this isn’t the first time. You need to buck up and do your part. You’re not a kid. You can’t expect your older brothers to pick up the slack for you anymore. They’ve got enough on their shoulders. They don’t need to be responsible for you as well.”
Walter Stone had folded his arms over his chest, disappointment written all over his face, and damn if that wasn’t the worst possible thing.
Walker had hated that his dad was upset. Worse, he’d known that he was in the wrong, but spitting the words out seemed impossible.
Which had only pushed him to be even more stupid, because that’s what seventeen-year-olds did. “If I’m so damn terrible, fire me. I’ll find myself another place and get out of your sight and off your land as soon as I can.”
“Now you’re just being stupid to try and rile me up. You know we don’t want you to leave. This is your home—”
“Doesn’t have to be,” Walker muttered.
His dad had shut up then, the two of them eyeing each other as a kind of power surged through the air around them. Finally, his dad had straightened, folded his arms and nodded once. “Make up your mind what’s important to you. Your mom and I are going with the Hayes family to Calgary this weekend. You want to laze around on your ass, so be it, but remember it’s Caleb and Luke you’re letting down. It’s the rest of the people relying on you, and in the end, it’s yourself. We’ll talk more when I get back.”
* * *
He’d never come back.
Not the caring man who’d tried to teach Walker about responsibility; just his body, cut from the car along with Walker’s mom, and their family friends.
Walter and Deb Stone had been laid to rest overlooking the ranch they’d built with their own hands. Built with sweat and hard labour, and now Caleb was saying it was possible the ranch might be lost.
Walker had a lot of experience with the sensation of feeling out of control, but it never got any easier to face.
He lowered himself to the cold bench beside the graves, the wooden slats worn from the harsh winters and rough with age.
It finally struck him—this was why he felt so strange, so rootless and lost. Because up until now he’d been coasting along and not doing anything worthwhile. He had nothing of value to offer anyone.
It was time to change that. While he still wasn’t sure he was capable, at least now he knew what he needed to strive for.
“You were right, Dad. Caleb and Luke have more than enough responsibilities, and it’s my turn to do my part and step up to the plate. I’m sorry it’s taken me eleven years to really learn the lesson, but I think I’ve got it now.”
He’d come home because home was where a person came when everything else fell apart. What he needed to do was deal with his fears so he could help.
The ranch needed money? Well, he couldn’t do much being a ranch hand other than day-to-day tasks. Out there on the rodeo, though, there was real money to be made. And the other possibility, the one he hardly dared think about because it seemed so outrageous—there was money to be made there too. Lots of it.
Talk about singing for your supper.
But he couldn’t make money riding bulls, and he couldn’t make money from singing if he was going to be shut down and catatonic with fear when he least expected it. He needed to find a way to deal with these damn panic attacks, and maybe that was something he could do here at home.
But as soon as he got a handle on them—as soon as he found some way to cope—he’d have to leave. If it was his turn to make a sacrifice, so be it.
There was the irony. In order to save his home, he had to leave it.
3
Ivy joined her sisters, leaning against the side of her car where she’d parked at the edge of the walkway, eyeing the little bungalow before them.
It was cute.
Okay, it was one of the places that had the dreaded words “cozy fixer-upper” in the sales pitch, but Ivy had already completed the purchase before moving back.
Even though it was the perfect house for her, she had to admit it wasn’t very much to look at yet. “I know it needs paint—”
“Oh, honey, it needs so much more than paint.” Rose shook her head as she stepped forward, leaning down to poke a finger at the mostly dead grass. Her dark brown hair fell forward against her cheek, and she pushed it behind her ear when she stood, offering Ivy a grimace. “Please tell me they paid you to take this on.”
“Actually,” Tansy interrupted, “from what I’ve heard, the place is sound. The repairs are mostly cosmetic, and there’s no reason why we can’t get all that done over the next couple months.”
Thank goodness one of her sisters had vision. “It’s small, I know, but the price was right, and like Tansy said, all of the important things are in good shape. Which is good, because there’re no expensive repairs needed, just a lot of TLC. But I think I’ll spring for new appliances because even if avocado green is coming back in style, it’s not my idea of a good time.”
“Paint, appliances, new locks?” Tansy listed as she stepped toward the house. She put a foot on the first step but when it creaked ominously, she backtracked rapidly. “New stairs.”
“New stairs,” Ivy agreed. “We’ll go to the back door for now. But the porch is sound, and they put new shingles on less than five years ago. The house came with some furniture, which is good because I don’t have much of my own. I can slowly replace things and buy stuff that fits the space properly.”
She led them to the side of the building where a second set of stairs led up to an entrance just off the kitchen.
“The view is spectacular,” Rose admitted, turning toward the mountains to let the sun hit her full on the face. “Good thing you’re not superstitious, though, sitting right next to the graveyard and all.”
“That’s usually where they put the caretaker’s house,” Tansy teased.
“Oh, goody. Does this mean you’re going to
be moonlighting as an undertaker?” Rose asked.
“Only on the second Thursday of every other month,” Ivy retorted. “Come on, I can’t wait to show you inside. I need ideas for what colours to paint things so the rooms look bigger.”
It felt strange, yet right, to guide her sisters through the tiny home. Right now it was dirty and dingy, but it had so much potential. That was part of what Ivy did in her job as a teacher. She looked not only at where her students were at that moment, but where they could be, and figured out what it would take to get them there. She loved that journey of discovery. It wasn’t only the students who learned things along the way; she did, too.
Taking this house from its current sad and dilapidated condition to the point it became a real home would be an adventure, and she could hardly wait to get started.
“Okay, this is sweet.” Tansy motioned into the living room.
Between the front door and the living space someone had built a barrier wall with a lot of shelves. The shelving created a front entranceway by separating the door from the rest of the room.
“Paint that white, and it would not only brighten up the place, but you can put knickknacks all over it, and pictures. Could be pretty,” Rose suggested.
“That’s what I thought,” Ivy agreed. “Tansy, add to the list. I need to change all the light fixtures. Nothing fancy, but I want to put in LEDs, and some of them need to be directional to get light right into the corners.”
Tansy wrote notes obediently on the notepad she carried. “Light fixtures and area carpets.” She glanced at the two of them. “The hardwood floor is nice but trust me, you’re going to want something soft underfoot in a few places.”
“And that has to go.” Rose pointed toward a loveseat that had definitely seen better days. “Although, the kitchen table and the mismatched chairs around it are cute.”
“I like them as well,” Ivy admitted, though she refrained from mentioning they reminded her of the times she’d joined the Stone family for dinner. Their table and chairs were just like that—mismatched, near antiques that looked right together. Although, admittedly, their table was five times the diameter of hers.