Good Together

by C. J. Carmichael

  Their Dad looked at Suzanne as he spoke. Her face was suddenly pale, her lips pinched. Mom had told them that Suzanne had been married to Dad’s bull-riding friend, the one who’d been killed last spring in the rodeo arena. Portia could tell that was what Suzanne was thinking about. And as much as she was inclined to dislike the woman, Portia couldn’t help feeling just a little bit sorry for her.

  “Were you there when your husband had his accident?” she asked.

  She could tell her Dad was annoyed, and Wren surprised, that she was being so blunt. But Suzanne answered as if she was relieved to talk about it.

  “Yes. I had a bad feeling that morning, when I heard he’d drawn Black Cyclone. He’d had trouble on that bull before.”

  “Most all of us had,” her father agreed. “That was one mean animal.”

  “I begged Dex to give it a pass. But he was stubborn. I wasn’t in the stands. I was too nervous. I watched on one of the screen monitors and when I saw him go down, I covered my eyes. When I heard the crowd go silent, I knew Dex had been badly hurt.”

  That was the most Suzanne had spoken since they’d met her. Dad put a hand around her shoulders and she leaned into him, accepting his comfort. But Portia could tell by the dull sheen of her eyes, that she was still thinking back to the day her husband had died.

  “I’m sorry,” Portia said. She knew what it felt like to watch someone you love get on the back of a wild bull. Even when she was younger, before she’d fully appreciated how dangerous her Dad’s job was, she’d been nervous watching him compete. Her stomach twisted now, just remembering.

  “This is a grim topic,” Dad said. “You girls should be telling me about college. All the stuff you’re learning and the friends you’re making.”

  Portia hesitated. Theoretically she should have lots to talk to her father about. But they hadn’t spoken for so long, she didn’t know where to start. Even Wren seemed nonplussed by the request.

  Then she had an idea. “There’s a guy in a lot of my classes who says he met you, Dad, and even shook your hand. At a rodeo this summer, I think it was in Great Falls.”

  “Does this guy have a name?” her father sounded amused.

  “Austin something-or-other,” Portia mumbled.

  Her dad straightened. “Would that be Austin Bradshaw?”

  “That. Sounds. Right.” Portia was on her phone, checking to see if an Austin Bradshaw was on Facebook. Sure enough, the guy had a profile. And his photo showed him on the back of a bucking bull. Oh my God. He’d called himself a cowboy, and she’d scoffed. But he was the genuine thing.

  “The kid shows a lot of talent. And courage. I think it was his first time lasting eight seconds in a PRCA sanctioned event. He was so excited.” Wes smiled, shook his head, then looked at Portia again. “So, you two are just friends, right?”

  Portia groaned. “Dad.”

  But inside, she felt a warm glow. Maybe because, for a second there, her dad had finally sounded like himself again.

  Or maybe it was because of Austin...

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  No sooner had Mattie returned home after Christmas, than a storm set in, leaving her house-bound for three days. Fortunately she’d stocked up on groceries at the tail end of her drive home from Marietta. So she had plenty of food, tea... and tissues. Not that she needed the tissues so much these days. She figured she was pretty much cried-out now.

  The question remained, what to do with her life now? Since Wes had left there had been no new deposits to their joint checking account. Her expenses were few, but she would soon run out of cash.

  She needed to make a living, somehow. But all she was qualified to do was train and take care of horses. It was maddening to have an empty stable at her disposal, plenty of hay and feed—but no horses.

  She missed the girls so much. Would she ever get used to this empty house? Every day she gave thanks for Tuff, who gave her a reason to get up in the morning, to go outside for walks... and someone to cuddle in the evening when she was watching TV or reading.

  When the snow finally let up, one of Nat’s hired men came by with the plow to clear out her lane and yard for her. She went out to thank him, squinting against the bright sun hanging just above the hills to the south. “Would you like some coffee? I have some fresh muffins, too, if you’re hungry.”

  “I’m fine, Ma’am.” He looked to be in his early twenties, dark blonde hair, his face covered with a light stubble, that had red glints in the sunshine.

  “Well, thank you very much.” She looked around at the work he’d done, snow mounded well out of the way, making it possible for her to access the main road with her SUV and walk around the yard with ease.

  “No problem, Ma’am. Nat says hi.” And then he was off, driving his tractor along the freshly cleared lane, turning right on the main road, headed back to the Double D.

  Over the next few days Mattie kept expecting to hear from Nat. That he would call, or drop in—but he didn’t. Several times she happened to be outside playing with Tuff when he rode past the farm in his big truck. He always slowed, smiled and waved, but never stopped.

  She felt confused by this. And distressed.

  Obviously she’d assumed there was more to their friendship than Nat intended.

  But that didn’t stop her from thinking of him. Dreaming of him...

  Mid-January Mattie finally had a meeting with a divorce attorney. She used the one Nat had recommended, Jemma Humphries, a family lawyer in Missoula.

  She felt awkward dressed in a skirt and blouse, sitting in the office boardroom, coolly discussing the end of her marriage with a virtual stranger. Jemma Humphries was about Mattie’s height, pretty, plump, and very well groomed. She had lovely gel nails and Mattie couldn’t help but notice how well her hands set off her thick wedding band with the large diamond perched above.

  The meeting was torture. But at least she left with the information she needed to start building her new life.

  Montana was a no-fault divorce state, as well as an equitable distribution state. Jemma figured that since the farm had been in Wes’s name when they were married, that she would share in any appreciation in value that had occurred during the twenty years of their marriage.

  That was a relief.

  She wouldn’t leave the marriage with nothing.

  Back at home, Mattie fought the urge to call Nat and discuss what had happened with the lawyer. Instead, she called Sage, who listened sympathetically, then urged her to stop waiting to see when Wes was going to sell the farm, and just get on with her life.

  “You said the barn is just sitting there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why not start boarding horses again? Make sure the commitment runs month-to-month so if Wes does find a buyer, you won’t be stuck.”

  It was such a great idea—Mattie wondered why she hadn’t thought of it first. Getting the word out didn’t take long. A few phone calls, a notice at her church and at Murphy’s Feed Store, and she soon had eight horses delivered to her care.

  Early February a ninth horse was delivered by parents of one of Portia’s friends. Ray and Becky Turnball had a beautiful Tennessee Walker they’d bought from Bishop Stables ten years ago.

  “We’re selling our acreage and moving to a condo on the lake in Big Arm,” Becky explained, while her husband Ray unloaded the beautiful sorrel mare. “Ray’s tired of the upkeep, and I don’t need a big garden anymore now that the children are all grown up.”

  Becky and Ray had had four children. Their youngest, who was the same age as Portia and Wren, was now working in Missoula. The rest had settled around Polson. One had married a man whose family owned a cherry orchard on the east side of the lake, and the other two were in law enforcement, working for the Sheriff’s office.

  As she and Becky chatted, Mattie realized how much her previous social life had revolved around the twins’ activities and friends. Attending school sporting events, sharing car pools and volunteering at the school had ended fo
r her now that the girls were in college.

  It was time she developed her own interests. Her own activities.

  So when Becky mentioned a new book club that she’d started that fall, Mattie was quick to show interest, and soon she had an invitation to the next meeting. Once Clementine had been made comfortable in her new paddock, Mattie invited Becky and Ray in for coffee.

  The visit was good for her, and as she watched them drive off an hour later, Mattie promised herself she was going to accept every invitation that came her way for the next while. She’d become too isolated living out in the country on her own with only a dog for company.

  When Ryan Garry called two weeks later wondering if she’d have dinner with him, however, she hesitated.

  “To be honest Ryan, last time we saw one another, I’d had too much to drink. Something I don’t usually do. I’m kind of embarrassed about it now.” What she didn’t add, was that she’d found his own behavior a little intense that evening, as well. Though maybe it wasn’t fair to judge him, when her own actions may have been leading him on.

  “You’re not the only one, Mattie. I would have called you sooner, but I was embarrassed as well. I probably came on a little too strong that night. How about this time we meet for just dinner—and hold the dancing and drinking? Frankly, I would really enjoy a meal with some adult conversation. The kids have been driving me crazy, lately.”

  Mattie laughed. “At least you have kids to talk to. I’ve just got horses and a dog.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  It was.

  * * *

  Mattie was careful how she dressed for her dinner out with Ryan. Her main interest in him was as a friend—though she supposed it was possible that could change.

  But not likely.

  She couldn’t help remembering how she had felt dancing with Ryan at the Smoke House last December. No sparks, whatsoever. And then Nat had stepped in. Instant heat.

  Maybe she should have turned down Ryan’s invitation. But it had been so long since she’d had an evening out. And he’d made it clear that the night was just going to be about good food and conversation. Where was the harm in that?

  Mattie wore a long sweater with a narrow belt, black skinny jeans and boots. Not an inch of inappropriate skin was showing. Just to be sure she sent the right message, she kept her makeup minimal, with only a light gloss on her lips and some mascara.

  Ryan had insisted on driving out to the ranch to pick her up, and he arrived right on time, at seven. Working for the Lake County Gazette meant Ryan had lots of interesting stories and conversation on the twenty-minute drive to the Finley Point Grill was not a problem.

  Mattie commented on an article she’d read that week about a minor earth tremor in the Flathead Valley that had been erroneously reported as a magnitude nine-point-nine earthquake.

  “Totally ridiculous,” Ryan commented. “Not sure how that error happened.”

  “I didn’t realize Polson was on a fault line.”

  “We are. The same fault line runs from here, down to Yellowstone and onward to Salt Lake City. Most of our shakes are tremors almost no one notices, but back in 1969 we had an earthquake that measured around four or five on the Richter scale.

  At the restaurant, they continued their conversation, moving easily from one topic to the next. Ryan was intelligent, with a good sense of humor. Glancing up from her menu, she thought he was not only pleasant to look at, but also well groomed. His thick sandy hair had been recently trimmed and his shirt was well pressed.

  Funny that a man could have so much going for him, and yet she felt zero romantic interest.

  Was it because her separation from Wes was too recent?

  But that didn’t explain the way she felt around Nat...

  By the time dessert had been served, Mattie had come to the conclusion that Ryan would be perfect—for Dani. Surely her academic sister would find his type totally appealing. She, on the other hand, could never feel anything but friendship for him.

  As the evening progressed, Ryan suggested an idea for a second date. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen a movie in a real theater. Maybe next week we should take in something at the Showboat?”

  “Maybe. But I’ve been a lot busier since I started boarding horses, again.” Mattie segued into a cute story about how Tuff had reacted when she’d taken her out to the stables a few weeks ago. She was getting older, and her herding instincts were kicking in. Trouble was, the horses didn’t take her seriously—she was still too little.

  On the ride home, it took a lot of effort to keep the conversation light, and Mattie’s head started to hurt. This dinner had been a bad idea. Yes, she needed to start socializing more, but she’d already known that Ryan wasn’t the right guy for her. By agreeing to have dinner with him, she’d given him false encouragement.

  Staring out the side window into the dark, she felt a similar despair about her boarding business. She loved having horses to look after again. But the minute Wes sold the farm—and he would find a buyer eventually—her new business would be dissolved.

  She’d started the year determined to build a new life for herself.

  But it wasn’t proving an easy thing to do.

  When Ryan pulled into her yard, she tried to make a quick exit. “Thanks for dinner, Ryan. I had a nice time.”

  To her surprise, he followed her out of the truck and walked her to the front door. She could see the expectation in his eyes as he smiled at her and took her hand. “Can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed an evening more, Mattie.”

  She took a step toward the door. “I’d invite you in, but I’ve got a headache coming on. I’m not used to late nights, I guess.”

  “Now that doesn’t sound good.” Ryan opened the door once she’d unlocked it, following her so deftly she would have had to push him to prevent him from coming inside. “Why don’t you lie down while I find you some water and pain pills. Where do you keep them?”

  “I’m fine, Ryan. Really. You should get going.”

  “I’m not the kind of man to leave a woman on her own when she isn’t feeling well, Mattie. Here, let me help you with that.”

  Before she knew it, he’d removed her jacket and helped her off with her boots. Tuff came to check him out, and Ryan gave the puppy a few friendly scratches, soon winning her over. “Lie down, Mattie. I’ll get you a cool cloth and some pills.”

  Mattie sighed. She supposed she’d have to let Ryan do his fussing so he could go home with a clean conscience. “I keep pain medicine in the cupboard over the sink. With the water glasses.”

  “That’s handy.”

  “First thing Wes would want when he got home from a rodeo. He used to go through a lot of it—especially as he got older.” She settled on the sofa, placing a hand on Tuff when the puppy rested on the floor next to her.

  She listened as Ryan ran some water, then heard him shake a couple of pills from the bottle. Her headache was no ruse. Her head was really pounding now and she was thankful to take the medication when he brought it to her. “Thanks Ryan. I hope you don’t mind letting yourself out.”

  “You sure you’re okay on your own? I don’t mind spending the night on your couch, especially if it makes you feel safer. Can’t be fun living alone, miles from the next neighbor.”

  “I’m used to it, Ryan. Thanks anyway.” His solicitousness was started to make her crazy. Yet, she didn’t want to risk making him angry. She’d known Ryan Garry for years. But did she really know him?

  How would he handle outright rejection, once she gave it?

  Frankly, she would feel a lot safer delivering the message over the phone, than in person. Especially after he’d just reminded her how alone they were.

  “Mind if I use your washroom?” he asked.

  “Go ahead.” She waved him toward the powder room and as soon as he’d closed the door, got out her cell phone and sent a quick text to Nat.

  “Need to borrow a cup of sugar? Ryan Garry here. Doesn’t seem to want to lea
ve.” It wasn’t exactly a desperate plea for help. But if she knew Nat, it would be enough.

  * * *

  Nat was on his way home from poker night with the guys, when his phone made the sound he’d assigned to Mattie’s contact info—a magical chime, which he thought suited her and the way she made him feel. He took his foot off the gas. No cars within sight in either direction, so took a quick glance at the screen.

  Ryan Garry? Hell. Was she serious? Hadn’t she learned anything from the last time?

  Nat put his boot back on the gas, a lot harder this time. He was only minutes away from Bishop Stables. A cup of sugar? Hell, this time he was going to flatten that man.

  He blew into her lane like a Montana blizzard, jerking his truck to a stop and leaving the keys in the ignition as he stormed out and headed for her door. After one sharp rap, he let himself in. “Mattie? Saw your lights on—is everything okay?”

  His heart was thumping as he strode down the hall, into the main living area. Mattie was lying on the couch next to the fireplace, where Garry was working to get a good blaze going. The scene looked real cozy, and he felt a flare of anger of a completely different sort than before.

  Was she toying with him?

  But then she sat up and he saw the relief in her eyes. Her skin was pale, he could tell she’d been scared.

  “Nat, you’re the best neighbor in the world. Thanks for checking in on me. I’m not feeling great, I’m afraid. Ryan was just lighting that fire for me and then he was going to leave.”

  Ryan Garry looked pissed. His long, bony legs creaked as he stood up from the hearth. “Kind of late for a neighborly visit.”

  “I keep an eye out,” Nat said curtly. “Mattie’s lights aren’t usually on so late.” This was stretching the truth some. But Mattie clearly wanted this man gone. And he was going to make sure it happened.

  “Unlike you, I’m an invited guest,” Ryan said, squaring his shoulders to Nat, and curling his hands into fists.

  “Oh, Nat has a standing invitation at Bishop Stables,” Mattie said quickly. “And it isn’t true that I invited you in, Ryan. I do have a headache. All I really want is to be left alone.”