Good Together

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Good Together Page 5

by C. J. Carmichael


  Kirsten’s eyes narrowed as she zeroed in on the guy, moving their way. Then she frowned and turned her back to block him from Portia’s view. “Want to grab some lunch?”

  Without waiting for Portia’s response, she led the way into the hall.

  * * *

  Mattie cooked the steak for dinner, not expecting she’d be able to eat it. She surprised herself by finishing half, along with a baked potato and several spears of broccoli. Bless Nat, he’d known what she needed better than she had.

  The TV was on, tuned to six-o’clock news so she wouldn’t be able to hear herself chew. Nothing she hated more since the twins had left than the quiet of mealtimes. When she’d had enough, she cleaned the kitchen, putting off the calls she’d promised herself she would make.

  Finally, she dried her hands, then picked up her cell. Since she was most worried about Wren, she called her first.

  “Mom! Thank God! Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

  Mattie smiled as she settled on the sofa like a cat, her body curled into the corner, with her legs tucked under her. Did Wren realize she sounded just like the mother here?

  “Sorry, honey. It’s been a crazy week.” She wanted to skirt the truth. Not lie. “Plus, my throat has been acting up. It’s been difficult for me to talk.”

  “Is it a cold? Are you okay?”

  Her daughter’s concern was touching. Mattie blinked, not wanting to risk getting emotional, because one thing would most certainly snowball into another.

  “I’m a lot better, today. Don’t worry. How are classes?”

  “Crazy busy, but I love them all. Poli-sci is my absolute favorite. We’re reading about Plato—he’s amazing, Mom. Just brilliant. I can’t believe he lived more than two thousand years ago.”

  Wren spent fifteen minutes talking about Greek philosophers, most of which Mattie couldn’t follow.

  “—and we had to write an essay, and I had the highest mark in the class, Mom. The professor singled me out later and said he was really impressed and that I should participate more during class because I obviously had worthwhile things to say.”

  “That’s wonderful, honey.” She was proud of her daughter, but then, she’d never had any doubt that Wren would excel at college level classes. “What are the other kids like in the class? Have you met anyone that you like?”

  Wren went silent, and Mattie felt badly, knowing her question had taken the fizz out of her mood.

  “Not really. But it’s okay. I’m super busy keeping on top of the work load.”

  That was what Mattie had been afraid of. That Wren would throw herself into her studies and end up with zero social life. If only Wren had agreed to go to UW, then at least she could have visited her sister and aunt when she was lonely.

  “Can I talk to Dad?” Wren asked, after Mattie had updated her on the well-being of the horses and the cats.

  “Sorry, honey, but he isn’t home.”

  “I thought he had a clear schedule for the two weeks after Billings?”

  Trust Wren to be up-to-date with her father’s calendar. Often she knew better than Mattie where Wes was supposed to be on any given day.

  “His plans changed and he had to go. But I’ll tell him you called and if he gets a chance he’ll get in touch.”

  They said goodbye after that, exchanging “I love yous” and “I miss yous.”

  Mattie called Portia next, which was easier, since Portia didn’t hit her with as many questions, or ask what was going on with her father. For twenty minutes Portia chatted about sorority parties and a new friend of hers named Kirsten. When Mattie turned the topic to her classes, Portia just sighed.

  “They’re hard, Mom.”

  Portia might have kept chatting for another twenty minutes, but a friend came to her room and so she finally said good-bye. Mattie put down her phone, then closed her eyes, thinking about her daughters, wishing they weren’t so far away. She was relieved that they both sounded okay. But that didn’t prevent her from feeling guilty about being out of touch for so long. Falling apart wasn’t an option when you were a mother. She would have to do better.

  * * *

  October was slipping away and with it, the long days that came with spring and summer in Montana. The advent of winter was almost harder to bear than the season itself. Five long months of snow and ice, cold, and dark lay ahead. Maybe Jake’s idea about heading south wasn’t so dumb.

  Mattie had already been awake for an hour when the morning alarm went off. The news came on, but she couldn’t focus. Then the weather. A cold front was coming down from Canada. She didn’t want to get out of bed. The cheerful prattle from the radio announcer didn’t fool her.

  She was alone.

  No man was sleeping in the bed next to her, waiting to give her a good-morning hug. No children needed her to make lunches or hurry them along to catch the bus. Even the horses outside didn’t really need her. Jake could manage on his own, one more time, if he had to.

  But. She’d promised herself that this morning she would do it, resume her life, in some form or fashion.

  So she hauled her body out of the bed then pulled on her work clothes.

  Her first sip of coffee promised her she could do this.

  She could face the cold, the work... the emptiness.

  Fifteen days since Wes had left. The longest she’d been alone in her life.

  Maybe she’d feel different, stronger, more capable, if she hadn’t married so young. But she’d moved from her childhood home to this one. Babies coming along so soon, she and Wes had less than a year to enjoy being newlyweds.

  Taking her to-go cup with her, Mattie went to the mudroom and piled on the layers, then added her boots, gloves and hat. Outside a lightening of the sky promised that morning would be coming. Eventually. Her gaze snagged on the two sugar maples that the girls had brought home in third grade after a school trip to a nursery.

  Maples weren’t indigenous to Flathead Valley and Mattie had babied those trees. Putting up chicken wire to protect the trunks and watering them faithfully during the hot, dry summers. Now they rewarded her every autumn with brilliant red leaves that stood out from the gold of the aspen and cottonwoods. They’d been at their peak the last time she’d come out to do chores. This morning, however, less than a dozen leaves remained on the slender gray branches. What made some leaves cling harder than others? Were they in denial that the season was changing, or just hanging in there to enjoy one more day?

  She turned from the depressing sight and made her way to the barn.

  Jake was in the feed room, wearing his winter parka and a knitted cap instead of his usual Stetson.

  “Damn cold,” he said, after giving her a quick once-over.

  “It is.”

  They worked silently for the next hour, the repetitious chores a soothing balm on the ache of her heart. Every horse got an extra pat from Mattie that morning. Their nose butts and whispered nickers brought tears to her eyes.

  Ever since she’d been a child she’d known that if you treated an animal kindly, they’d give you affection and loyalty in exchange. Never once had this equation failed her. And never once had it meant as much as it did today, especially with the specter of a potential sale looming in her future.

  When they were finished in the barn, she and Jake went out to flake hay into the corrals where the majority of the horses were kept. The eastern sky was lighter now, and Mattie leaned against the whitewashed fence to take in the view.

  There were ten horses in this pasture, all of them familiar, beautiful animals, who moved with the grace of dancers as they shook out their kinks from the night and welcomed the new day. In the distance a layer of mist clung to Flathead Lake, and the air held a stillness that seemed almost mystical.

  In all the years of her marriage, this view never failed to fill her with awe. Even though Bishop land lay before her, almost as far as she could see, she had never been filled with a sense of ownership. The very idea that one person could
lay claim to a tree, a field, a lake, seemed full of gall to Mattie.

  No, she preferred to think of herself as a steward of the land. Here to enjoy and reap blessings before giving up her space to the next generation.

  She’d imagined herself growing old living here—with Wes.

  She’d pictured them riding horses still, when their hair was gray and their middles were thickening. She’d seen them hosting family meals on holidays, and sitting alone on the porch after everyone was gone.

  If Wes wasn’t coming back, if he really was going to sell this land, what would her future look like?

  She didn’t have a clue.

  And that was terrifying.

  The fence shifted a little as Jake came up beside her and propped his boot on the first rung.

  “We should get that pump repaired before it gets much colder,” he said.

  She nodded. “You think the horses are dreading the winter as much as we are?” Her gaze was on Wes’s horse now. Whiskey Chaser and her favorite mare, Rosie, named for her disposition, were standing parallel to each other, each facing opposite directions, the way horses often do.

  “Nah,” Jake scoffed. “Horses been living in these hills long before ranchers started building barns and filling food troughs. They’re tougher than we are. Built for survival. I think they prefer this weather to the scorching days of summer. And frankly, so do I.”

  It was a funny admission from a man who had recently threatened to pack up and head south. The upward twist of his lips told her he recognized the irony himself.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  It was his first reference to what was going on with her and Wes. Mattie nodded, suddenly afraid to speak in case sobs came out instead of words.

  “I’ve been at Bishop Stable for almost forty years,” Jake said, his tone slow and thoughtful. “Wes’s folks, Garth and Jude, were all about the business. They cared about the horses, but even more they cared about their reputation and doing things right. They weren’t what you’d call warm. They treated Wes just fine, the same as they did the horses, actually...”

  His voice trailed off and Mattie was left to her own thoughts of the Bishops. She’d been worried about impressing them when she first started dating Wes, but they’d been so hard to read that even today she wasn’t sure if they’d liked her or not.

  They’d moved into town after she and Wes were married, but Garth had continued to come out to the ranch most days of the week and Jude had kept up the garden and put away her preserves every fall.

  Jude had been the first to pass away, ten years ago now, from ovarian cancer. Garth had died five years later. Mattie had been surprised and saddened by how little they were missed by Wes and the twins.

  “The Bishops built this ranch and established a first-rate reputation for the horses. But when you moved in, Mattie, you made this place a home. Those girls of yours laughed more in one day than Wes did his entire childhood.” Jake sighed. “What I’m trying to say is, whatever happens here on, you should know you did good work here.”

  “Thanks Jake.” Montana ranchers didn’t do compliments. Which made his words all the more meaningful to her. But how much did he know? “Has Wes told you about—his plans?”

  “Not yet. But I know that boy. Stews over problems in his head, makes up his mind and only then does he talk.”

  Yes. That was Wes all right. “He’s left me, Jake. And he wants to sell the ranch.”

  Jake’s sidelong glance didn’t reveal any surprise. “His interest in the horses has been slipping for years. But your marriage—that I didn’t see coming. I’m sorry, Mattie.”

  She leaned over the fence, resting her head. Jake’s hand settled on her shoulder, warm and solid.

  “Makes me wonder what I’ve been doing the past twenty years when I thought I was investing in my family.”

  “That’s exactly what you did. And you were successful at it. Some people think that if something isn’t permanent, it doesn’t count. But everything changes in this world. You’ll still have your family Mattie—and good memories besides. Keep them close. You earned them.”

  For Jake, it was quite the speech. Mattie straightened her back. “You’re a wise man, Jake. Makes me wish you were more of a talker.”

  He chuckled. “Me a talker? Not likely.” He pushed away from the fence. “Better get back to work. You got time for a ride this afternoon? Valley Girl could use some work.”

  Mattie nodded. The fresh air and exercise would be good for her as well as the horse. Of course no one understood that better than Jake.

  “Make sure you take your phone with you,” Jake cautioned.

  It was Mattie’s turn to chuckle. “Never thought I’d hear you say those words to me, Jake.”

  “Change, Mattie. Happens to all of us.”

  * * *

  After lunch Mattie worked Valley Girl in the arena for half an hour, taking her through her paces, before heading out on one of her favorite, and shorter, trail rides, following Chatterbox Creek up into the low hills, then running along the crest of Ponderosa Hill before returning along the lake-side slope which offered one of the more picturesque views of Bishop Stables.

  Mattie took her time showering, drying, and grooming Valley Girl, crooning to the horse as she worked, the radio playing softly in the background, set as usual to Jake’s favorite country station.

  He’d gone out to buy parts for the pump, but he’d be back in time to handle the evening feeding. She knew he wouldn’t mind if she left him to it, and went inside for a shower of her own. But before she made it to the house, Nat Diamond’s grey truck appeared on the road and she watched as he slowed and pulled into her lane.

  Mattie rubbed her hands clean on her jeans as she walked toward him. She didn’t want to analyze why her heart suddenly felt lighter. Nat was a neighbor and a friend. Why shouldn’t she be glad to see him? She waited for him to park and open his door. “You have a knack for catching me at my best.”

  He stepped down from the cab, wearing jeans, boots, and a sheepskin jacket. The man was so damn handsome, all decked out like a model on the cover of Western Horseman. It wasn’t fair.

  “Dirt suits you. Been out for a ride?”

  “Yeah.” The sun had broken through the clouds around one o’clock and the day had actually turned quite warm. “Enjoying the last of the fall colors.”

  “Good. I brought you a gift. But maybe you don’t need it.” He pulled out a shopping bag and handed it to her.

  She peered inside and grinned when she saw several boxes of tissues and canisters of tea. “Seems like I’ve got myself a reputation.”

  “Some women like flowers. But you’ve always been unique.” He hesitated. “I brought something else. You don’t have to keep it. Just thought it might come in handy...”

  It was unusual for Nat to look unsure of himself. She watched as he reached down to the floor on the passenger side of the truck and then gasped when he pulled out a small dog carrier. Inside were two border collie puppies.

  “Twelve weeks old,” Nat announced, as he freed them from the padded carrier. The two puppies looked to be all hair, with dark noses and adorable round eyes. “I ordered one of them a while ago. Asked to bring along one of her litter mates. In case you wanted one. But I can see you’re not a dog person.”

  She was on the ground, scooping up the puppies, petting them and laughing. “Oh, they’re so sweet. I wish Wren and Portia could see them.”

  “Take a video with your phone, then send it to them.” Nat kneeled beside her and scooped up one of the dogs. “This is Buffy. She’s mine.”

  Mattie could tell they’d already bonded. “You named your dog after a vampire slayer?”

  Nat looked confused. “The breeder named her. I didn’t know Buffy was a—what did you say? Vampire slayer?”

  “I’ll lend you the DVDs sometime. Portia has the entire collection.” As she spoke, her eyes were on the other puppy. Almost identical to Buffy, but with a different look around
her eyes. “Did the breeder name this one?”

  “Tuffy,” Nat admitted, his tone somewhat apologetic. “Want to guess what the other two puppies were called?”

  “Fluffy?”

  He laughed. “Yup. And the last?”

  “Hopefully not Huffy.”

  “Nope. Muffy.”

  “Buffy, Muffy, Fluffy and Tuffy,” Mattie repeated. “Wow.”

  “You could always change the name. If you want to keep her, that is. Like I said before, no obligation. I just thought having a dog around the place might be a good idea.”

  Mattie picked up Tuffy and buried her nose in her soft hair. She understood what Nat was thinking. A woman living on her own in the country needed protection. A dog could offer that. But by the time Tuffy was big enough to ward off strangers, would Mattie still be living here?

  If not—where?

  The truth was, getting a dog right now didn’t make any sense. What if she ended up living in town? Or, God forbid, back at her father’s place on the Circle C? Having a dog in tow could make things really complicated.

  But then Tuffy cocked her head to one side. God, she was cute.

  It was too late for logic. She was in love.

  “I’ll keep her.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “The puppy was genius. Tell me again about this neighbor who brought her?”

  Sage was on the floor by the fireplace, playing tug-of-war with Tuffy with one of the toys Nat had left behind.

  Turned out he’d come prepared with everything Mattie needed to become an instant dog owner. There was special puppy food, a dish, a bed, and several toys. And the cutest little collar.

  Once he’d helped her carry everything inside, Nat had left, refusing her invitation to stay for dinner, which was just as well because no sooner had Mattie taken the puppy with her to the bathroom and had a shower, than her sister Sage had shown up unexpectedly. It was a four-and-a-half-hour drive from Marietta, and so not an easy trip. Mattie had hugged her sister fiercely.

  “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “I just wanted to. But I can’t stay long. We have a big party at the store on Halloween so I’ll have to leave after lunch tomorrow.”

 

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