Hidden Trails

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  How Stefanie felt about him had become tantamount to the world.

  Emma’s parents walked inside and turned to the right.

  The door closed behind them.

  Drake heaved a breath of relief. The air in Montana had a crisper feel to it, maybe due to the higher elevation. The humidity wasn’t as high as it was in Wyoming. Even the Montana air had a sweet tinge of honey in it, as if the hummingbirds laced their sweet nectar throughout the skies.

  He claimed a seat on the railing of the deck. It creaked under his weight. He glanced down, noticing the lines and cracks in the floor boards.

  They would never get top dollar for the place. If Stefanie really was going to buy Bella Acres, then Drake was going to have to make sure that she had the best she could have.

  She would let Emma live there. Emma would need a wheelchair ramp soon with how she’d gotten to where she couldn’t move much beyond being carried. A wheelchair just wasn’t practical for where they were, at least unless they had a ramp.

  Drake pulled out his cellphone, and made a quick call to an acquaintance of his in the area.

  His mother stuck her head out the door. “Drake, Emma wants us all in here. Can you join us, please?” She nodded as he stood and moved to walk past her. She placed her hand on his arm and then drew back sharply. “It’s nice to see you, son.” She awkwardly moved her arms and to hug him, but he darted away, too cowardly to even admit that he didn’t want her to hug him.

  Even if he really did.

  His face flaming with heat, he joined his sister in the living room.

  “Maybe we could open up some of the chairs from the deck and put them in here so we can all sit down?” Emma’s voice came like a half-whisper, her eyes half closed as her arms draped over her chest.

  Drake hated visiting with her. Her weakness astounded him. He had never known her to be weak, even as a child when she’d undergone chemotherapy and radiation therapy, she’d never given in. Her vibrancy had never paled.

  But he could see her light fading and it hurt him.

  Drake nodded. “Of course, Emma.” He returned from the deck with three fold up chairs which he placed in a semicircle around the side of the couch.

  They each claimed a seat. Drake, as close to Emma as he could possibly be, tried placing a foot or two between him and his father.

  How did he always end up sitting next to his father? It didn’t seem right, that his dad would be there. Why did Drake have to cope with them?

  His dad didn’t even look at him, or acknowledge the fact that he sat next to him. Whatever, Drake could totally deal with that.

  Emma struggled to push herself to a sitting position. After a moment she accomplished it. Breathing heavy, she glanced at each of them in turn. “I wanted to have a family meeting because I wanted you to know that —”

  Drake held up his hands. “I haven’t been a member of this family in years. Can we just call this what it is? A gathering of people who are worried about you?”

  “I’m trying to call this what it is, Drake.” Emma eyed him as if warning him with her gaze. “There’s nothing stopping you from leaving, except for the fact that you know that you’re part of this family.”

  At that, Drake stood. “Actually, I was staying simply because I figured you would need some moral support in here. But now that I know that you don’t need that, I can leave.”

  “Sit down, boy.” His father’s gruff voice grated in the silence of the room, even as he didn’t even bother to look at Drake.

  Drake laughed, then bit the humor off as he looked down at the man who claimed him. “You don’t call me boy. You don’t call me anything. You pushed me out, that was it. Uncle Will is more of a father than you’ve ever been. I’m done with this.” He stomped to the doorway.

  Emma called out his name. “Drake. Stop.”

  Drake half turned, giving her a small shake of his head. “I don’t have to deal with this crap, Emma.”

  Emma’s look was reproachful. “Look, I don’t care what happened so long ago. I understand everybody was hurt. My heart was ripped out, Drake. I didn’t want to lose you. You’re my brother. The last thing I wanted was for something to happen to you. Look at how great you turned out. That wouldn’t have happened with us. You’ve made it out, you have made something of yourself. And now you get to come back here and act all smug. I know how great that’s got to feel. But I’m dying.” She narrowed her gaze at Drake and pursed her lips.

  Their mother gasped, placing her fingers over her mouth. Their father leaned forward grabbing Emma’s hand in hand his. “Don’t talk like that, you can beat this.”

  Emma sighed. “I don’t want to beat it. I’m tired, Dad. I have been beating it my whole life. It’s too late. We caught it too late.” Tears glinted on her cheeks and she swiped at them furiously. “Nate deserves better, so does his family. And so do all of you. I just feel bad that I wasn’t able to release you guys from this when I was growing up.”

  Her mother didn’t speak. She blinked wide eyes at Emma and moved her head like she struggled for breath.

  Drake opened his mouth, closing it again. He forced a swallow. “Did you tell them what you told me? You’re quitting. That even though I have all the money that can save you, you don’t want to be saved?”

  Their mother leaned forward gripping their father’s arm. “Emma, is this true? Can Drake help you and you won’t let him?” She glanced at Drake. “Do it. Do whatever you can.”

  Emma didn’t speak. She pierced Drake with her gaze and then each in turn. “Why would I use anything that any of you have earned? I can’t do that to you. Not after all this. I’ve been happy. I have been loved. More than I can say. I can’t have his babies. I can’t give him what he needs. He’s putting himself further into debt to take care of me. He has to sell his family’s land. For me.”

  She dragged in a ragged breath and continued. “How do you think that makes me feel? We are going to have to live in the back of a truck, because of me. Stefanie and Hannah... My sisters. My only sisters I’ll ever have. And they’re getting turned out of their home because of me. You can’t understand what that’s like.”

  They sat there in silence as they absorbed her words. Drake didn’t know how much more truth he could handle from Emma.

  Yet, she had more to say, as if she’d been shoring up her phrases for a long time. “You guys had to move, because of me. You could never find enough money or enough income because of me. Drake was sent away because of me, and look at him now. I’m not going to take that away from him. Just because I could? What kind of a person would that make me?” She shook her head softly, the tresses of her hair moving just a bit above her shirt. “I’m not going to do that. I just want one thing from you guys. I want you all to get along. You won’t have me around anymore. I want you to get along, forgive each other, love each other. Because I need to know that my family is intact when I go.”

  Drake turned to face his sister full on, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side. “You see the thing about promises, Emma? You keep asking for them, and I’m not sure I can deliver on all that.”

  Chapter 9

  Stefanie

  Stefanie fidgeted with her thumbs, unable to get comfortable on the microsuede couch Cyan had told her to wait on.

  She’d meant to be at the Burns’ house only a day or two, but that had turned into four. Cyan had promised her dad would be there, but Mr. Burns kept getting waylaid by medical issues.

  Stefanie had been waiting in their living room for over two hours. Another promise she’d broken, Cyan swore he’d be there that morning right after breakfast.

  Time was running out and the stress might be the death of her, if Stefanie didn’t get a chance to say something to Mr. Burns.

  Cyan hovered over an older man as they ambled into the room.

  His cane thumped on the floor, held by a hand with gnarly knuckles and fingers that twisted in painful directions. Stringy, long hair hung limply around his tan,
wrinkle-lined face.

  Cyan had warned Stefanie about her dad. He’d been afflicted with an autoimmune disease for as long as Cyan could remember. Unfortunately, his symptoms were getting worse. Even the marijuana he used for medical reasons wasn’t helping anymore. Nothing was slowing the disease down.

  Even with all of his money, he wasn’t getting any better.

  Sickness took you whether you were rich or poor.

  Cyan’s soft voice broke through Stefanie’s reverie. Her normally exuberant tone had turned dulcet. “Stefanie, this is my dad. He’s ready to listen to what you have to say.” Cyan helped her father to the chair.

  Jareth wasn’t there since he had gotten a job at a neighboring ranch. He had to fix relationships with the neighboring ranchers after he’d broken trusts when he and Cyan had first met.

  The community didn’t forgive easily. And Jareth had betrayed Cyan’s father, one of their own.

  Stefanie leaned forward, nodding slightly at Mr. Burns. “Mr. Burns, it’s nice to finally meet you. I am sorry that you’re having problems.”

  Tight lines around his pinched mouth didn’t keep Mr. Burns from smiling. “I’ll be fine. Thank you for the comment though. What can I do for you, Stefanie?”

  Stefanie clenched her fingers together between her knees. She took a deep breath. “Well, Cyan said you might be interested in backing an investment. Or, I mean, investing or, loaning... I mean.”

  She closed her eyes and then opened them again, catching the quizzical glance between Cyan and her father.

  She was making a fool of herself. Over something she may or may not get. Something that wouldn’t kill her, if she lost it. Wouldn’t save Emma, if she gained it.

  She let go of the pressures she put on herself. At that point in time, she had no money to buy Bella Acres. If she got the loan from Mr. Burns, she’d be better off, but if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be worse off.

  Stefanie licked her dry lips and offered a slight laugh at her stumbling. “Let me start over. I’m so nervous. Would you be willing to invest in me and my family’s ranch? I need to buy it before it goes to auction.” She settled into her topic, warming to the interest on Mr. Burns’ face.

  “My sister-in-law has had a lot of great ideas the last few years, but she’s dying from cancer. If we also lose the house... Well, she’s waitlisted for hospice, and we don’t have anywhere to take her. And my brother thinks that if we can keep her...” Stefanie trailed off. For all her practicing over the last three to four days, she was still susceptible to the emotions of her statements rather than the business and logic she was hoping for.

  Nothing was coming out right. Her nerves compressed around her, causing her to forget what she wanted to say. “I’m sorry. I’m very nervous.”

  Mr. Burns lifted his hand slowly. “There’s nothing to be nervous about here, Stefanie. We’re just friends, talking about business things... Cyan has told me about it already. I would be happy to help you out. I have a pretty strict rule that I don’t make these decisions on my own. I need to call my financial advisor and discuss the facts with him. Give me a couple days and I’ll call you. Cyan has your number, I’m sure. I understand there’s a deadline, so you can take a note to the bank. Ronan James and I go way back. He’ll waylay the deadline for a couple days for me.”

  He winked, his head wobbling slightly as he spoke. “Don’t worry, if I don’t choose to invest, I’m sure I can find someone who will.”

  Cyan rolled her eyes. “You and that investment firm. I’m surprised you don’t ask them what to eat.”

  Mr. Burns glanced at his daughter, then returned his gaze to Stefanie. “Everything that company has done for us in the past has pulled me out of a scraper or two, I’ll tell you what. I trust them implicitly. If they tell me to do it, I’ll do it. My advisor has gone out of town, though, so I’m waiting for him to get back so I can discuss these things with him. As well as a few others.”

  Churlish relief stopped up Stefanie’s words again. She bobbed her head like a doll on the dashboard of a car. “I understand. Thank you for thinking it over.” With the meeting part over, she let her air out on a whoosh. Stefanie glanced at Cyan and then back at Mr. Burns. “Thank you again for seeing me. Cyan, do you think we could get home? I really don’t want to leave Nate with all the work that still needs to be done.”

  Cyan brightened, the blue swath in her hair catching the afternoon light. “I would love to get back. Dad, we’re going to run back down to Bella Acres. Jareth is supposed to be down there, and I wanted to help him get packed and ready to go. He’s staying out at the Morning Glory Ranch.”

  Mr. Burns winked. “I know. I told Ole Randal if he didn’t hire your husband I’d make sure and plant some of my cannabis at his place. The only way your mother will stop nagging at me about her art is if you’re nearby. The only way I can get you nearby is if your husband works somewhere close. Are you staying with us while he’s out there?”

  Cyan blushed, nudging his shoulder carefully. “Anything I can do to stay close to Jareth will be fine with me. Thanks, Dad.” She leaned down and kissed her father on his cheek.

  Chapter 10

  Drake

  Drake’s parents stayed at Nate and Emma’s only a couple days. He had opted to stay at a hotel in town.

  He couldn’t shake the sensation that he didn’t need them in his life. He’d done fine so far. But what if Emma was right? What if the last thing he did was cause her more pain before she died?

  Maybe that wasn’t worth it. Maybe his pride wasn’t worth doing that to Emma.

  Or maybe, for once, he would have to accept doing things his own way and in his own time.

  Actually, Emma would have to accept that.

  He bored himself watching daytime talk shows because his stupid pride kept him from going back to Bella Acres to claim his briefcase he’d left beside their front door.

  Work would have to wait.

  He finally received a phone call from Emma stating he had to return to Bella Acres and that they were gone.

  He made her promise they were.

  Finally, he had something he could make her promise.

  He didn’t ask if Stefanie had returned yet.

  Thinking about that dark-haired, blue-eyed Rourke woman about drove him nuts. He wanted to touch her and kiss her, but his footing around her wasn’t stable. Drake dealt in numbers, and Stefanie was anything but quantifiable.

  Chapter 11

  Stefanie

  Stefanie tossed her duffel bag on the bed. She peeled off her khaki pants and button-up blouse. She couldn’t wait to get into jeans.

  Changed into her work clothes, she walked through the house listening for anybody that might be inside.

  She peeked into the living room.

  Emma breathed softly, her chest rising and falling while she slept on the couch.

  The rest of the family was most likely outside doing some of the chores that needed done. She eased out the front door, trying to be quiet.

  Emma looked more wan than usual. Sadness clenched the happiness and hope that Stefanie had harbored since leaving the Burns’ place. What kind of a home would Bella Acres be without Emma there?

  What kind of a family would they be? Would they be the kind of people that didn’t even want or need a home after the key person holding them all together was gone?

  Suddenly overcome with sadness, Stefanie tromped out to the barn, adjusting her hat. The back double barn doors were open. A big pickup truck set in the center of the doors.

  Drake shoveled pieces of broken up hay bales into the truck, over the side.

  Stefanie stopped, watching as he bent and twisted.

  He’d left his shirt off, draped over the side of the truck rails. Sweat glistened on his back. The light shafting through the open doors shined and shadowed on his skin as his muscles moved.

  As entranced as she was, she couldn’t understand why he couldn’t keep his shirt on. She shook her head, looking around. Where was every
one else? Why hadn’t anyone told him the right way to buck hay?

  Nate’s voice carried from a stall, mingled with the sound of one of her cousin’s voices. Good, there’d be two to yell at.

  Stefanie followed his voice to the stall and poked her head in. “Nate, why is Drake out here bucking hay by himself? And why didn’t anyone teach him how to do it right?” She kept her indignation to a normal volume, but her tone unleashed like a whip.

  Nate glanced up from the crack-sealing he and Kyle were in the middle of in the stall. Cement had cracked under the weight of some items they’d stored in the past.

  Sealing up the cracks would help with the stalls selling. Nate shrugged. “He was bugging me. He needed something to do. I don’t have time to babysit him.”

  Stefanie thrust her jaw to the side. “Nate, there’s no reason to be a jerk. He wants to help. You should just let him. Think about what would make Emma happy.” She was loyal to her brother, but when he was inconsiderate, there was nothing she could do but stick up for what was right.

  Drake wanted to help and he was proving to be a better person than any of them. None of them had offered to help and then when turned down multiple times, made sure to help serve them all anyway.

  Nate was eating again and so was his wife – because of Drake.

  She growled at Nate before turning around. Calling out, she sauntered closer to the truck. “Drake, that’s not how you do it.”

  He glanced up from his work, pausing to rest a hand on his hip and wiped his forehead with the other wrist. He offered a tentative smile, like he wasn’t sure what she was up to. “Oh yeah? I’m getting it done.”

  Stefanie rolled her eyes, grinning. She hadn’t seen him in days. She loved knowing they could fall into their banter so easily. When had that happened? When had she gone from instantly thinking everything he said was mean to looking forward to his jibes? “You’re spilling everywhere. And because you can’t keep her shirt on, you are going to itch like mad later.”