by Emma Woods
“I thought he’d hired someone to help with that?” Jill asked as she poured herself a tall glass of milk and came to sit next to me.
“He did, but the new guy hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Tom didn’t mention hiring anyone.”
I shook my head. “He probably doesn’t know about it. Luke hired someone for the office. I doubt he bothered Tom with it, since it wasn’t related to the horse or cattle.”
“I see,” Jill said. “I hope this new guy is helpful. I know it’ll make your job easier.”
I debated whether or not to open up about Ty. Jill was my best friend. Still, I was never someone to let go of my most private thoughts easily. I guarded my heart carefully and knew that even the briefest mention of Ty might give a peek at my warm feelings for him.
But I needed to talk to someone. “Luke’s hired his childhood best friend, Ty Dondero. Ty has been working in marketing in St. Paul for the past few years. I guess Luke has a lot of confidence in him.”
Jill’s eyebrows rose. “It could be nice working with someone you know. Then you don’t have that awkward getting-to-know-you period.”
“I have a feeling there will be plenty of awkwardness.” I sighed. “I really liked Ty when we were kids. He was nice and easy to get along with. But I think he’s changed a lot over the past few years. I don’t know how much of the guy I knew is left.”
“Ouch. That’s got to be tough. Well, we can be optimistic. Maybe he’ll be his usual darling self. Maybe he put on a tough-guy exterior in order to get by in the big city. Maybe he’s just been waiting to get back to his roots.” Jill’s voice grew more and more dramatic as she went.
I laughed. “You’re a goof.”
“Yes, it’s true,” she grinned at me.
“I hope things will go smoothly on Monday. Luke says that’ll be Ty’s first day.”
Jill popped the last bite of sandwich into her mouth. “Let’s hope. I’m going to put on a movie and work on lesson plans. Want to join me?”
“Sure. I’m in the mood for Jane Austen today.”
“Oh, me too! Who will it be: Mr. Ferrars, Mr. Tilney, Mr. Darcy?” Jill jumped up and took her dishes to the dishwasher.
“What would you think of Captain Wentworth?” I asked, joining her.
“Yes! Captain Wentworth and Anne Eliot, it is.”
4
When I was younger, my family had attended a small, traditional church in Birch Springs. It was the sort of place where you watched the dust motes dance in the light coming in through the stained-glass windows while the preacher in his old polyester robes droned on from the pulpit in the front. We sang traditional hymns, recited the Lord’s Prayer and the Apostles’ Creed, and Mrs. Wicke at the organ always took off her shoes to press the pedals. The older folks wore long-out-of-style suits and dresses with pantyhose.
It was a good church. The people there loved God. But when we’d hit high school, my brothers and I had chafed. There were only half a dozen of us in the youth group. Besides, Luke had football practice on Wednesday nights, so it was hard for us to make the mid-week service.
Mom and Dad had made the difficult decision to begin attending the Mosaic Fellowship Church in nearby Barry’s Corner. Mosaic Fellowship had a band that led worship. The preacher wore jeans and kept the sermons relevant to the younger congregation. We went on rafting trips with the youth group. In short, Mosaic Fellowship was a better fit for us.
When I returned to town, it was Mosaic that felt like my home church. Mae and Emily both came with me, though Jill chose to attend church with her grandfather. Emily’s husband, Nate, had also been a member of the youth group back when we were in high school.
Sometimes the four of us drove together, and sometimes we drove separately. On that particular Sunday, Emily and Nate had lunch plans with Nate’s family. So, it was just me and Mae on the drive.
Little red-headed Mae always reminded me of a mischievous pixie, with her laughing blue eyes and quick sense of humor. She drove a sporty car with a stick shift as though she was in the Indy 500. I loved riding with her because she was a smart, aggressive driver, even though I held onto the edge of my seat with a death grip at times.
“How was work this week?” I asked her as she peeled out onto the highway.
I got a one-shouldered shrug in return. “Same old, same old,” Mae replied. “Aiden mentioned that they’re looking to expand their partnership with Triple Star Ranch.”
“That’s news to me,” I replied, unsurprised. Luke and Aiden had worked together since the formation of Aiden’s outdoor equipment company, Red River.
“Aiden said that you folks have a new marketing manager who’s got some fresh ideas for both companies.”
I gulped and felt my cheeks heat. Goodness. Was I going to have this sort of a reaction every time Ty was even vaguely mentioned? How was I ever going to survive working with him?
Mae shot me a look, her eyebrow raised. “Okay, spill. I know you’re not much of a talker, Rosie, but I’ve never seen you this quiet and guilty before. Did you kill someone?”
For the briefest moment, I considered dodging the question. But this was one of my Bumblebee sisters. We were closer than most friends. I knew I could trust Mae to keep quiet.
It took us the rest of the drive to church for me to explain about him. I didn’t open up about the homecoming dance or anything, but Mae’s face told me that she was picking up what I was putting down.
“And he’s going to be working with you in the office?” she asked as she pulled into a parking spot and set the brake. “Yikes. What if he’s a total dink?”
I laughed. “What’s a dink?”
Mae gave me a cheeky smile. “It’s a real word. I think.”
“If it is, I’ve never heard it before.”
“Okay, new word. It means, ‘someone who was once really awesome and is now a butt head.’”
“That’s the official dictionary definition?” I laughed and climbed out of the car.
“It should be,” Mae quipped.
We began to walk toward the enormous, rectangular building. I always felt a tad conspicuous when I walked next to Mae. She was hardly more than five feet tall. Even when she wore her tallest platform heels, she was still only as tall as my shoulder. Next to me in my battered flats, she seemed cute and petite, while I felt like a giant.
As we moved through the lobby and into the auditorium, I waved to people I’d known for years. Friends who went back as far as elementary school were here. My brothers’ friends, even my parents’ friends, greeted me as we found our seats. My small group of girls had saved us seats, and we slid into them with hugs for the other four young women who were in the row.
The band took their places and led us in worship. One of our teaching pastors, Kenny, gave a thoughtful sermon on fasting. We shared in communion, and then church was over.
Mae and I were in no hurry to leave. She was deep in conversation with a mixed group of friends. I stood by, enjoying a quiet moment in which I didn’t have to think of something to say.
A movement on my other side drew my attention. I looked over to see Nick Alexander approaching. I grinned at him as he drew near. Nick and I were in the same class in school. I remembered riding bikes with him and his older sister when we were kids. We’d done a science fair project together in seventh grade.
Ever since I’d come back to Birch Springs, Nick and I had rekindled our friendship. If either of us ever needed a date for a wedding, we asked each other first. Nick was somewhere between a friend and a boyfriend, though he was most certainly the first and not really the latter.
“Did you see the new Batman movie came out this week?” he asked without preamble.
“Already? I thought that wasn’t coming out for another month.”
A corner of Nick’s mouth quirked up. “Remember when we saw the first one?”
“Of course I do. We sat behind that woman with the enormous hair.” I giggled at the memory.
�
��And some kid behind us threw popcorn, and it got stuck in her hair,” Nick guffawed.
“I forgot that part!” I cracked up at the memory.
It took us a minute to calm back down. Nick said, “Want to go see it with me this weekend? Friday maybe?”
“That would be great! Text me the time and place.”
“We could ride together,” Nick suggested as we began to walk out of the sanctuary and back toward the doors. “That way we don’t both have to find parking.”
I saw that Mae was ready to go. “Sounds good to me. Text me, okay?”
He flashed me a thumbs-up before melting into another group of chatting young people.
As Nick walked away, my cell phone pinged. I looked down and saw a reminder from my mother that Sunday lunch would be served at noon at my parents’ place. Considering that Sunday lunch was always served at noon at my parents’ place, the text message did little more than make me roll my eyes. Was there some switch that just flipped to the “on” position as soon as someone became a parent? Once the switch was flipped, they were forced to compulsively baby their children, even when they became adults and proved to be responsible. Did I have that switch? Would I drive my own children crazy when I became a parent? Probably.
“I need to get going,” I told Mae, holding up my phone. “Mom’s started texting.”
“Gotcha.” Mae turned to her group of friends and gave one last witty quip that left them all cracking up as we walked away.
We sang loudly to country songs as we drove toward my parents’ house. Mae dropped me off and waved from the car as she backed out and went to meet some small group of girls for lunch.
I turned and loped up the walk toward the front door. Mom and Dad had decided almost three years ago that they were retiring from the ranch and turning it over to Luke and Heather. They’d then bought a “modest” house that would be easier to maintain. Of course, the house they bought was on six acres with an enormous lawn that Dad loved mowing with his high-powered riding lawn mower. It had a barn where my parents kept four horses. The house was only three thousand square feet, so that was much easier for Mom to keep clean with the help of a cleaning lady, though it seemed plenty big to me.
Even though they were retired, Mom and Dad were on the board at Triple Star and owned shares in the ranch, so they had a good income even while working fewer hours. As a matter of fact, I had several shares myself, which kept me from needing to find a more lucrative job. Our parents had wisely put aside some investment money in each of our names, and so Luke, Matt, and I had accounts to use down the road. Actually, not Matt. He’d dipped significantly into his savings account to start up the Birch Springs Beanery, come to think of it.
By the time I climbed the stone steps and walked across the wide front porch, Abby was running down the front hallway, pushing open the screen door, and throwing herself into my arms.
“Aunt Rosie!” she squealed.
“Abby Pie!” I hugged her and whirled her around. This was one of our special niece-aunt routines. Once I’d put her feet on solid ground, the little girl grabbed my hand and led me into the house, chattering away. At three years of age, Abby was mostly understandable. There were times when I knew all the words she was saying but had no context, and so just nodded along.
Today I caught the words “cookie,” “Missy,” and “Jesus,” so I was fairly certain she was telling me about Sunday School. Apparently they’d talked about Jesus, had cookies for a snack, and her favorite volunteer, Missy, had been helping with her class.
Out of the blue, Abby said, “Aunt Rosie, Uncle Ty’s eating lunch with us!”
My brain scrambled to make sense of that sentence just as we rounded the corner. It was only a split second’s warning, but it was enough to keep me from making a complete fool out of myself when I saw none other than Ty Dondero in the flesh, standing in my mother’s kitchen.
He was filling glasses with ice cubes and talking respectfully with my mom, so I had time to give him a thorough appraisal. Ty was only an inch taller than I was and was rangy-looking with plenty of wiry muscles he kept from cycling and swimming. His dark hair was cut in a trendy cut that I wasn’t sure I liked. But there was the same dimple on his left cheek when he smiled. Even though his work clothes were more fashionable than I’d ever seen on him, the old Ty was still there under it all.
“Uncle Ty!” shrieked Abby.
“Hey, there, Abs,” he said, and then looked over at us.
I knew the moment he registered that I was standing there. I was definitely not imagining the pause, the widening of his eyes, and his mouth forming a silent “o.” But an instant later, that intense moment passed, and Ty grinned at me.
“Hi, Rosemarie! Wow, you look great!”
I smiled back a bit shyly and moved into the kitchen, where Ty held out his arms and I leaned in to give him the barest of hugs.
“I didn’t know you were in Birch Springs already.” It was a dopey thing to say, and I felt my cheeks burn dully as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
But if Ty thought it was lame, he didn’t let on. “I moved in yesterday. Luke and Matt came and helped me get everything into my apartment.”
“So you’re all moved in, then?” I asked.
Ty laughed. “Not even close. I only opened boxes to find my toothbrush and clothes for church this morning. I didn’t even bother finding the box with the sheets in it. I just slept on my bare mattress.”
“You didn’t!” Mom admonished with a smile.
“Oh, yes I did.” Ty’s bright grin beamed over all of us.
There was a general ruckus at the back door and my father entered the kitchen, followed by Matt, Luke, Heather, and Jake. Apparently they’d gone to look at a pair of goats that Dad had bought. From Heather’s wrinkled nose, it was obvious that she did not agree with Dad that the ranch needed to open a goat petting area.
Hands were washed, dishes were brought to the table, then Mom told us all where to sit. Normally the seating arrangement changed very little. Only Abby’s preference of favorite adult she had to sit next to caused us to move around. However, with the addition of Ty, an actual non-family guest, further shuffling was required.
“No, you don’t need to sit next to Uncle Ty,” Heather informed Abby.
I had to agree with this assessment. Ty was unlikely to have the skills necessary to keep Abby occupied and eating throughout the entire meal. Abby thought this was devastating news, and Luke had to deal with her tears and protruding lower lip before we were settled in and ready for Dad to give the blessing.
Without thought, everyone reached out and held hands. The warm, strong, long-fingered hand on my left belonged to Ty. I was extremely glad for a reason to duck my head and have my eyes closed. I was even grateful for Dad’s rather long-winded Sunday lunch prayer. By the time we raised our heads, my face was no longer feeling like it was on fire, though I hoped never to forget the feel of Ty’s hand on mine.
Platters were passed. Plates were filled. Silent chewing gave way to polite conversation centered around catching up with Ty.
My plate was almost empty by the time I finally accepted that I was actually sitting at Sunday lunch with Ty Dondero again. He had moved back to Birch Springs, and we would be working at the ranch together. I would see him regularly.
I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to pay much attention to the questions the family was asking. In fact, it wasn’t until I was alone at home that I noticed no one asked Ty much about his life back in Minnesota. There was much talk of his family, his plans for life in Birch Springs, and his recent trip to Asia, but somehow my entire family knew not to ask about his job or friends from the most recent part of his life. What was going on?
As the platters were passed around for seconds and Mom tried to coerce us all into eating the leftovers, people broke off into smaller conversations. Dad and Matt talked about baseball. Mom and Heather discussed Jake’s ear infection issues. Luke took over convincing Abby to finish her v
egetables.
Which, as you might have noticed, left me and Ty out.
“I can’t believe I’m back at the Donovans’ for Sunday lunch. It feels like it’s been forever since I had one of your mom’s great meals.” Ty leaned toward me slightly, and my heart picked up speed.
I gulped and tried to sound like I wasn’t getting goosebumps. “Yeah, you used to eat here just about every week.”
“Man, that was a long time ago, wasn’t it? It’s amazing how fast time goes. I mean, you always hear adults saying that, but you just don’t realize how true it is.”
“No kidding. It feels like Abby was a baby just yesterday.” I took a drink from my cup, racking my brain to think of something to say next.
“Luke told me you’re still working at the ranch. What do you do there?”
I glanced up into Ty’s dark eyes and cleared my throat. What had he asked me? Oh, yes. “I fill in wherever they need me. Lately, I’ve been working as the receptionist in the main office. But I might lead a trail ride, help with a school group, or shovel out stalls on any given day.”
Ty listened thoughtfully. I’d forgotten he did that and was instantly relieved that this special trait hadn’t disappeared along with his silly crew cut. “Sounds like you’re really important at the ranch. I bet Luke and Heather depend on you a lot.”
I shrugged, embarrassed. “I don’t know about that. I just lend a hand wherever I can.”
“Are you still dancing? I was just telling someone the other day about that ballet recital you did in high school. Do you remember? The one where you and Greg Eason had the lead?”
My eyes widened and I scratched my ear, playing for time. Ty remembered that? And he was talking about it? “Yes, I remember. I can’t believe you do.”
Ty beamed. “Are you kidding? Those lifts were incredible! I have a friend in St. Paul who dances, and we were talking about how intense training is for professional dancers. I told her that my best friend’s sister was a dancer and how you were always stretching when we watched TV.”