The Homecoming

by Christine Sterling

  Suddenly, Clementine was at a loss for words. She hated being put on the spot. Hank always knew when she was lying and it appeared, he was going to use it to his advantage. So, she said the first thing that came to her mind, which was the truth. “I don’t think it would be appropriate to say my name,” she said, turning back into the kitchen.

  “Clementine, when is supper going to be ready?” called one of the men on the far end of the table. He seemed to not care too much of their conversation, as he was more interested in having his meal placed in front of him.

  She scowled at him while Hank’s smile grew. “Ooooo,” she said with all the frustration she felt. She clenched her fists and she could feel her nails making crescent marks in her skin. Maybe they would go with the needle marks, she thought. “I should go check on it,” she said, as she tried to duck away.

  Before she could get any further, Hank grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the room next to the kitchen.

  “Let me go,” she hissed, as Hank brought her to a stop.

  “Why did you deny who you are, Clemmy-mine?”

  Clementine closed her eyes, willing the tears not to fall. Clementine took a deep breath and glared at him intently. “I didn’t deny who I was. I simply said that girl didn’t live here anymore.” She looked down at his hand still wrapped around her wrist. “I need to get back in the kitchen. The men will be wanting their dinner.”

  Hank released her and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Clementine. Don’t you recognize me?” She thought she heard his voice crack. “I know it’s been years, but I always knew that I would be able to recognize you in a crowd. And I hoped you’d be able to recognize me too.”

  She felt her stomach drop at his words of being able to recognize her. Maybe this meant that he still had feelings for her? As soon as the thought hit her brain, she cursed herself for having it. She had learned her lesson. There was no room for dreams that weren’t going to come true. “Excuse me,” she said pushing past him.

  “You can play whatever game you want, Clementine. But I can see right through you. You know exactly who I am,” he said, as he inched closer to her. She backed herself against the wall, keeping her head level with his eyes. “And we are going to talk very soon about everything.” He grabbed a strand of her hair and slipped it behind her ear before cupping her face with his hand.

  He stared intently at her face, as if he was memorizing every feature. He was so close she could smell the horses and leather from the barn. If she leaned forward, she would be able to kiss him. And how she wanted to do so, her broken heart be damned.

  Hank must have read her thoughts as he bent down and his lips claimed hers. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him, deepening the kiss. Clementine stood still. When they were ten years old, they were nearly the same height. Now he towered a good foot over her.

  Suddenly Clementine let out a sob and she threw her arms around his neck. She wanted to remain in his embrace forever.

  The kiss ended as abruptly as it started. Hank ran his fingers through her hair, pulling her face closer so he could kiss her forehead. Then he gave a low whistle.

  “Why did you kiss me?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  “I just can’t believe how beautiful you are now. I knew you would be; you were so pretty at just ten years old on the hill by the lake. But now, you’re stunning. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone so beautiful.”

  Clementine could feel the blush creeping up her neck. He leaned into her, like he was going to kiss her once more. She closed her eyes, willing it to happen.

  “Clementine! Are you done setting the table yet? I need your help carrying everything out,” she heard her mother call from the kitchen.

  “Coming, Momma,” Clementine called, ducking underneath Hank’s arm. She stood there, staring at him for one final minute, trying to calm her reckless heart.

  Why was she so unnerved by him, and it appeared that seeing her had no effect on him whatsoever?

  “Clementine!”

  “I’m coming, Momma,” she said, as she turned to head back into the kitchen. She didn’t look back at Hank, but she knew exactly what he was doing. He was staring holes into the back of her head.

  Clementine looked just like he thought she would look, after all this time. She was nothing like the girl from his memories; she was very much the woman of his dreams.

  He had always imagined their meeting; countless times. Usually it involved her jumping into his arms and him kissing her. In all the different scenarios that occurred in his head, he never thought she would run away from him.

  Even worse, she had lied to him. He didn’t know why she would lie when he could see clearly who she was.

  During the dinner, as she helped bring out the food with her mother, he tried to catch her eye. But she went out of her way to avoid him, even so much as turning the other way whenever he tried to get her to look at him.

  Eva and Martha were blissfully unaware of the tension between Hank and Clementine. He hoped to get a moment with his dark-haired beauty once more. But she scooted away before the meal ended. When Hank looked in the kitchen for her, he could see her up to the elbows with soapy water.

  He wanted so much to go to the back and have that talk with her that he had promised her, but Paps called him over to play checkers. The men milled around playing games and drinking coffee until Paps said it was time to get back to work.

  He stopped back in the kitchen before heading back to the stables, only to find it empty. “She’s gone home, son,” Paps said. Hank nodded to the old man and headed back to the barn to finish his chores for the night before retiring.

  The barn was warm. He inhaled the smell of horses, straw and leather. He went up to one of the horses and nuzzled her. He loved the work he was doing for Paps. Even though Sunday was only his second day on the job, he felt more alive than he ever did in Santa Fe.

  The men he worked with were very welcoming to him, teaching him about the horses and giving him pointers for each personality. He had never met a more friendly group of people. He felt comfortable around them and open to conversation.

  He was mucking out the stalls, Jarod was feeding the horses and Henderson was braiding leather strips into strap.

  “What do you know about the girl?” Hank asked, tossing fresh straw in one of the stalls.

  “Which girl?” replied Henderson, as he picked up another strip to tie off the braid he just finished.

  “Was there more than one?” Hank asked.

  “Yes, there were plenty,” Jarod, another ranch hand answered. “Rosalie and her friends who came through the stables yesterday.

  “Oh yeah. The giggling ones. I forgot.” Rosalie and two young girls with long hair and eyelashes fluttering. That one, Eden, seemed to have an air of desperation around her. When they came walking through, he didn’t pay them any mind, since they were too young and aggressive. He was sure they were nice girls; they just weren’t his Clementine. “I meant, the girl that was serving dinner,” he said.

  “Oh, you mean Clementine,” said Henderson.

  “Yes, I believe that was her name,” he said, feigning naivety.

  Henderson’s eyebrows shot up. “It looked as if you knew who she was.”

  Hank tried to keep his breath even as he answered the question. He didn’t want anyone to know about their past when he wasn’t even sure that they would have a present or future. “Not really, I mistook her for someone that I knew when I was a boy.”

  Henderson looked towards Jarod, who shrugged his shoulders.

  Hank never divulged to the men that he had previously lived in Belle, Wyoming; he tried to keep his past as close to his chest as he could. There were still too many memories surrounding the death of his parents and Abby’s parents.

  Henderson looked as if he was still skeptical of Hank, but he answered. “She’s the daughter of one of Patrick’s farm hands. He was injured in a pretty nasty ac
cident. As far as I’ve heard, he can’t even get out of bed.”

  “It happened before we got here, so we don’t know much about that. She, however, is quite the mystery,” added Jarod.

  “How so?” asked Hank, now intrigued.

  “Well, she keeps to herself a lot. I’ve never really heard her talk much; usually it’s when she is conversing with her mother. Which is strange, as Eva is very loud. Clementine is the complete opposite. She walks around like she would be fine if the ground would open up and swallow her whole.”

  “In town, she’s not much different,” said Jarod, as he wiped his hands with a towel that was hanging off a hook on one of the posts. “I see her in the café sometimes. She goes in there to see that cute waitress.”

  “So, you haven’t seen her with anyone?” he asked cautiously.

  “Are you interested in her?” asked Jarod.

  “I wouldn’t say that exactly,” he started to say before Henderson cut him off.

  “I would like to give you a fair warning. You shouldn’t go after that one. I’d stay as far away from her as possible.”

  “And why would you say that?” he asked, wondering what he meant by his words.

  “I mean, she’s pretty. Probably the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. But many men, some even far better than you, have tried and failed to grab her attention.

  “I heard a long time ago that she had made this promise to someone else that she would indefinitely wait for this person until they came back for her. If you ask me, I believe it’s just a shield that she had made for herself so she wouldn’t have to interact with men.”

  Hank’s heart leapt in gladness.

  Just thinking of her filled him with a grit he hadn’t felt before. He vowed that in the morning he would make it a habit to seek her out at any opportunity he was given. He wouldn’t squander this second chance.

  Chapter 7

  Clementine walked to the ranch house with determination. It took her three days to get up the courage after the dinner to head back across the field.

  “Looking for someone?” Paps asked, appearing from behind one of the posts on his porch.

  “That new ranch hand,” Clementine said.

  “You mean Hank?” Clementine blushed slightly and nodded. “Seems to me that you two were joined at the hip when you were children. I remember you kids tearing up the yard like a pack of wolves were on your trail.”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “It ain’t so long,” Paps said looking at her thoughtfully. “When you love someone it never is a long time.”

  “Unless you are apart,” Clementine countered.

  “Unless you are apart,” he repeated slowly.

  Clementine clasped her hands together. “You wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you?”

  “Yup. He’s at Martha’s house. He’s staying there.” Paps didn’t move. He just continued to look at her. “Today is his day off.”

  Clementine squirmed under his stare. “Don’t you need to get to the livery or something?”

  “Or something,” Paps laughed.

  “Well, thank you,” Clementine said and turned to go.

  “Clementine, wait,” Paps called.

  Clementine turned to face the old man. “What is it?”

  “Something happened to that boy. I don’t know what, but there may have been a good reason he stayed in Santa Fe.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Clementine said a little too quickly.

  “Uh-huh. I know you were disappointed that he didn’t come in on the train all those years ago.”

  “How did you know?” Clementine felt her cheeks turn warm. “I never said anything to anybody.”

  “Doesn’t take much to figure out what was going on. You were what? Sixteen? Seventeen? Probably around the same age as my Rosalie. The right age for marrying.” Clementine looked away. “Remember this, girl. It isn’t a long time if you still love someone.”

  “Unless you are apart.”

  Paps nodded. “Unless you are apart.”

  Clementine lifted her hand to knock, but then dropped it down to her side again. She was still a little shaken up from her conversation with Paps. The man knew more than he ever let on. Perhaps the livery was the same as the café. A source of gossip and news.

  When she found out Hank was staying with Martha, she thought that things had come full circle. He was back in the same house that he had lived in before he left.

  She didn’t want to see him, but it was eating at her. Why did he come back?

  She was so determined not to see him, that she feigned being ill so her mother wouldn’t send her to the ranch house to help.

  By the second day though, she knew the excuse was wearing thin. She could see it in her mother’s face; and Clementine knew that she had to talk to Hank so that they could move past the awkwardness and face the future separately.

  She knew that the fastest way for her to get over him was for her to talk to him without any interference, so she headed to the ranch to see if she could find him. She found Paps instead.

  She knew she might regret this talk, but it was for the best. She couldn’t spend her life making sure that she made no contact with him if he planned on staying for longer than a few months.

  She lifted her hand once to knock, feeling the butterflies in her belly. Silently cursing herself she decided to be a coward and run away. Before she could turn, the door swung open abruptly and she saw the man responsible for so many feelings standing in front of her.

  He was dressed casually in a pair of denim pants with a buttoned-up shirt. They looked new. Clementine backed away, clutching her dress at her sides. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She took another step and realized she had stepped off the edge of the porch.

  Her hands flew in the air, grasping for anything she could find to break the fall. She gave a little squeal as she felt Hank’s hand quickly reach out to grab her. “Steady there, Clemmie.”

  Oh, why did he still have to make her heart flip in her chest?

  He looked at her with questions in his eyes. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke. “What do you want?”

  Clementine was surprised to hear the shortness in his voice. Didn’t he understand it took all her courage to walk over here?

  “So, you are living in your childhood home?” she asked, trying to make conversation.

  “Yes. Well, more like I am living with my aunt. She’s the one that took us in,” he said solemnly. “I don’t know where I would be if it wasn’t for her.”

  She knew that this was a loaded answer. It was begging for her to inquire what he meant by not entirely knowing his predicament. She just had to remind herself that she was still mad at him for not showing up all those years ago.

  “Would you like to come in, Clementine? If that is truly your name,” he said, recalling the conversation that they had in the hallway.

  “You know that is my name,” she replied back to him.

  Hank grinned. “Saucy as ever.” He moved out of the way to let her in. “I knew I didn’t have the wrong person. I could never have mistaken you for someone else.” He leaned in closer to her as he shut the door. “You still smell like wild flowers.”

  Clementine jerked away from him, grasping her hands in front of her. “I just didn’t want them to know that we knew each other.”

  “Why would you care if they did?” he asked. There was no expression on his face.

  Couldn’t he at least show some emotion?

  “The men on this ranch gossip just as much as the women. I just didn’t want them to talk about us,” she answered. It was partially true and was as much as she was going to tell him at the moment. He managed to crack a smile.

  “Fair enough,” he said, as he led her to the chairs at the kitchen table.

  She looked around the room. It looked very similar to her house’s set up. She had spent so much time in this kitchen eating warm cookies and drinking mil
k, it was hard to imagine it would look any different than in her memory.

  But it did look different. It felt different too. When she visited there was so much love and warmth. She was an honorary Lucas, since Mrs. Lucas didn’t have a little girl. They were a second set of parents to her.

  She wondered where they were, as it seemed that Hank had traveled to Belle alone. She wondered if they were still back in Santa Fe, which made her think that maybe this was just him passing through in order to get to another destination.

  Maybe that was why he had never contacted her.

  “Get out of your head, Clementine.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can tell when you are thinking too much.” Hank dragged his hand down his face. “Why did you come here?”

  Clementine took a deep breath and sat down.

  “I want us to be able to be civil towards each other.” She watched as Hank slid his tall frame into the seat next to her. “This way, we can work together without there being many issues.”

  “You got it all figured out, don’t you, Clemmie?”

  “Don’t call me that,” she whispered.

  “Why not?”

  “Because the boy who called me that doesn’t exist anymore.”

  Hank didn’t say anything for a moment. “How about the man, Clementine Beck? This man exists very much in front of you.” Hank reached out and grabbed her hand, placing a kiss on the back of it.

  Clementine tried to pull her arm way, but he held onto it tightly. His fingers caressed from the back of her hand up to her elbow and back down again. Clementine had never felt anything like it. It sent chills down her spine.

  Hank moved closer. “What are you so afraid of?” he asked her.

  “I’m not afraid,” her mouth said, although her body was screaming something else.

  “You seem to be afraid of me, but I don’t know why. I would never hurt you.”

  “But you did. I don’t know if I can trust you. You seem to act as if we have this familiarity with each other…”

  “But we do! We have been exchanging letters with each other for years. I know you truly and deeply, Clementine Beck.”