by Naomi Niles
I’d talked to Mama about it. We could sell some acres of our grazing land, but that would cut back on the amount of cattle we could support, which would cut back on the income we could get from selling the beef. We could start selling the equipment, but then we would spend money renting them when we needed them. It was all a brutal circle that wound down to inevitably selling the ranch.
"You might as well just sell the whole ranch right from the start, rather than chipping away at it bit by bit," Mama had said to me.
"You can't mean that," I’d replied. "Grandpa built this place. Dad brought you here the day you got married, and we all grew up here. This is the Hutchinson Ranch, run by Hutchinsons for three generations."
"What's it gonna be when we sell off some of our acres, then sell off some of our equipment, and watch the place bleed to death slowly? It's excruciating, and I can't stand it. I'd rather just get it over with in one blow, like ripping off a Band-Aid."
"Mama, I didn't know it hurt you so much."
"Of course, it does. So, don't drag it out. Just sell the place."
It wasn't like her to give up so easily, but father's death two years ago had a terrible effect on her. Not having found his killer weighed heavily on all of us, but especially his wife. The anniversary of his death was coming up, and with it all the pain became as fresh as the day it had happened. Not having found justice for his death just made it worse.
Losing the ranch was just another death, and it was no wonder that Mama couldn't deal with it right now and just wanted the whole thing to be over. As much as I didn't want to, I decided that I should honor her wishes.
With a heavy heart, I picked up the phone and dialed the number for Riverbend Realty. The agent arrived at my office in less than twenty minutes looking eager and excited. His sandy-blond hair was perfectly styled, but his suit was cheap and his tie was glaringly bright.
"Harvey Hartman. Glad to meet you," he introduced himself as he shook my hand a little too aggressively.
"I know who you are, Harvey," I sighed. "We went to school together."
"I know that, Colton; but the seminar I went to said to always introduce yourself to the client."
"I'm not a client yet. I'm not sure I really want to sell this place, but I might as well find out as much as I can about it before I decide what to do."
It was a long and difficult day as I listened to my old high school buddy explain to me everything I needed to know about selling a property as large and complex as Hutchinson Ranch. There was big money to be made – enough to get us out of debt and still leave enough for Mama and each of my brothers to settle down someplace.
It made me wonder where we would all go if we didn't have the ranch. I knew each of my brothers would be all right. William had his job as sheriff and would need to find a place to live in Riverbend. Tom could get a job teaching at any school. Travis and Brett would land on their feet somewhere, and Mama would be welcome to live with any of us.
I guess what was bothering me most was what would I do without the ranch?
I'd spent my entire life on the Hutchinson Ranch. Mama said I was born on the kitchen table. Hell, even when I went away to get my business degree, it was with the knowledge that I would come back home and use it to run the ranch. I never once thought about using it to get a job someplace else.
Now it was time that I did. After all, I did have a degree in business from a respected university. I was smart, talented, and willing to work hard. I could apply for jobs anywhere in the country and I was sure to get something. The question was, where would I go?
The answer was easy: Chicago. Bethany wasn't able to stay here with me, but why couldn't I go with her to the city? I loved her and she loved me. It didn't matter where we lived, as long as we were together.
Chapter Twenty-five: Bethany
"Thanks for helping me carry all this back to the house." I gave Brett a sisterly kiss on the cheek after he set down my final masterpiece in the living room of the house.
"It's funny, but I'm actually going to miss lugging this heavy easel and all your painting supplies back and forth around this ranch," he joked, but there was sentiment shining in his eyes.
"And, I'm going to miss your shameless flirting," I teased him back.
"I know I don't have a real chance with you. You and Colton are meant to be together. That's why I know you're safe to practice my game with. I just hope one day I'll find the kind of love that you two share."
"I'm sure you will," I said. Then thinking of Emma, I added, "Maybe you already have and just aren't ready to admit it."
"Now that you're done, when are you leaving?" Brett swiftly changed the subject.
"The sooner the better, I guess." I sighed. "I need to pack my things. I want to present this to your mother and say goodbye to her and your brothers. I need to say goodbye to my father, and I want to have one last visit with him."
"I'm sure you want to spend a last evening with Colton," Brett said. "Probably leave in the morning.
"No. Not really. It will be too hard to say goodbye to him. Maybe I should just leave tonight after everyone comes in for dinner. I can give the painting to your mother, say my goodbyes all at once, and then leave with as little tears as possible."
"If that's what you think is best." He sounded doubtful.
"It is." I was firm. He tipped his hat and left, and so I went upstairs to my room for the last time to pack my things.
The first time I had packed to leave had been in a fit of anger, and I'd just thrown everything in my suitcase without thinking. This time around, the process was much more bittersweet. Every item I folded and placed carefully into my luggage came with a memory.
This was the shirt I'd worn when Colton first took me to the lake and we'd gone skinny dipping. These were the jeans I'd worn the day I told Frank he was my father.
When all my clothes were put away, it was time to start packing my personal belongings, like my toiletries and my art supplies. When everything was done, I gave the room one last look to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything. It was a good thing I had, because my sketchbook had fallen underneath the bed.
I picked it up and began to flip through the pages one by one. It was like taking a trip through time, to my first days on the ranch six weeks ago. There were sketches of the ranch from nearly every angle and vantage point.
There was a doodle of Maggie napping on the porch. There was one of Margie working in her garden and another of her baking in the kitchen. There was one I particularly liked of Colton brushing Whiskey's mane. I found one of Travis bucking hay, and one of Brett in his bull riding gear. Everything that was precious about the ranch was portrayed in that sketchbook.
Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. I would give these sketches to Margie to replace the paintings she'd paid for that had been destroyed. She told me since it wasn't my fault they'd been burnt in the fire, I didn’t need to replace them, but I didn't feel right not giving her anything for her money. If I'd had the time to repaint them, I would have, but my internship started in just a week, and there wasn't any time. These sketches were the perfect solution.
I went through the book carefully and selected the ones I thought she'd like the best. I paused when I came to a drawing I'd made of my father. I remembered the moment exactly: Frank had been sitting on a bale of hay, staring thoughtfully out at the horizon. He took his pouch of tobacco out of his pocket and carefully hand rolled a cigarette like his father had taught him to do, my grandfather. Then he placed it between his teeth, flicked his lighter, and brought the flame up to the tip of his cigarette.
My sketch had captured the moment perfectly, from the graying hairs on his hirsute jaw to the unique etching of a bird on his father's lighter.
Spontaneously, I pulled my favorite charcoal pencil out of my case and scrawled my signature on the corner of the sketch, along with the date and the words, To Dad, Love Bethany. Then I jogged across the grounds of the ranch. I had to give it to him as a goodbye present.
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No one knew where I had gone, but it didn't matter I wouldn't be long. The sun was starting to get low in the horizon, and soon the Hutchinsons would be gathering around the table and I would have my last dinner with them.
I saw Frank leaving the equipment shed and waved to him.
"Can we talk?" I asked him.
"Sure." He put his arm around me. Then he saw the drawing in my hand and pointed at it. "What's that?"
"It's for you. I wanted to give it to you before I left. I'm starting the long drive home to Chicago tonight after dinner."
"This is really good. Have you shown it to anyone else?"
"No, I keep my drawings private, but I wanted to share this one with you. I'm really going to miss you, Dad. I'm glad we got to know one another."
"I'm glad, too. Come back to my cabin with me for a moment."
"I don't really have time. The Hutchinsons are about to sit down to eat, and I don't want to be late on our last night together."
"This will just take a minute." He tightened his grip around my shoulder and pushed me towards the row of cabins across the grounds.
"Okay," I smiled up at him. His blue eyes had become cold and hard as ice. I was surprised by how much my leaving had touched him. We really had grown close this past month. So why did I suddenly feel like I was with a stranger?
Chapter Twenty-six: Colton
"Bethany!" I ran into the house, shouting out her name. Mama stepped out of the kitchen with a dishtowel in her hands. I grabbed her by the shoulders and cried out "Have you seen Bethany? I have to talk to her."
"Settle down. She's gone," Mama said.
"You don't mean she's left already?" I felt panicked.
"No. Nothing like that." She tucked a lock of her hair behind her left ear and walked back to the kitchen. I followed her, desperate for more information.
Mama had a pile of potatoes on the counter, and returned to peeling them, talking as she worked. She said, "I went up to Bethany's room to ask if she wanted to help with dinner. All her things are packed, with her bags lined up neatly by the door. She hasn't left yet, but she's not in her room, either. She must be out on the ranch somewhere, saying her goodbyes."
"Thank God," I sighed with relief, and Mama gave me a smack on the back of the head.
"What did I tell you about taking the Lord's name in vain?"
"I'm not swearing, Mama. That was a prayer. I'm asking God not to let her go before I can talk to her."
"Well, if it's the Lord's will, it will be done. Now what's all this about?" Mama asked. Then her eyes grew wide and she asked with a gasp, "Are you going to ask her to marry you?"
I didn't answer, and Mama started smacking me with her dish towel and jumping and down with happy excitement. "You are! I know you are!"
Catching the towel in my hands before she could do any more damage with it, I set it on the dining room table and forced Mama to sit in one of the kitchen chairs. Speaking calmly, I said, "No, Mama. I'm not."
"Why not? Everybody can see you two are perfect for each other."
I wasn't about to tell Mama I was going to ask Bethany if I could go with her to the city. If she knew I planned to live in sin with a girl, she'd grab that dishtowel back and flog me to death with it.
Instead, I said, "I don't know if it's the right time."
"Why not? You love her don't you?"
"I sure do. More than I've ever loved anybody." Saying the words aloud startled me, but it was true. I loved Mama and my brothers, and I'd dated girls in the past that I’d had true affection for; but this love I felt for Bethany was different.
It was stronger, deeper, and far more intense. When she wasn't near me, I wondered what she was doing. I wanted to hear all her stories and could listen to her without ever getting tired or bored. I could tell her anything and never feel embarrassed or ashamed. We didn't even need to talk at all. We could just be together in silence, feeling perfectly content. That's how I knew she was the girl for me.
Mama looked at me intently and asked, "Does she love you just as much?"
"She does. I can see it in her eyes every time she looks at me."
"Well then, what better time are you looking for?" Mama asked wisely. "You love her, and she loves you. If you keep sitting on the fence like you're doing, she'll leave town and you'll lose her forever. Then how will I get my first grandchild?"
"What if I propose and she says no? I don't think I could stand that kind of heartbreak," I confessed my deepest fear.
Mama took my face in her hands and said lovingly, "Why would she say no to you?"
"We've only known each other six weeks," I explained. She just clucked her tongue, as if I'd said something ridiculous.
"What does it matter how long you've known each other?" she scoffed. "When you've found the right person you know you're meant to spend the rest of your life with, it doesn't matter if it's been weeks or years."
"That's nice of you to say, Mama, but if we get engaged that quickly, our marriage will be doomed to failure."
"You think so?" She looked at me thoughtfully. "I guess that makes sense. After all, the divorce rate in this country is already so high. And whoever heard of a marriage being successful when the couple only knew each other for a short period of time?"
"Exactly," I nodded emphatically. Now she was making sense.
Mama moved to the stove and started putting the potatoes she's peeled into a giant pot of boiling water. When she was done, she said quietly, "Three months."
"What?" I was confused.
"Three months," she repeated. "That's how long James Hutchinson and I had known each other on the day we got married."
"I didn't know that." I was stunned. "Dad always said he met you on the Fourth of July at a church picnic."
"That's right, and our anniversary is in October. Three months from the day we met until the day we said I do."
"I assumed it was the next October. Dad said he proposed to you on your anniversary. I thought he meant your one year anniversary."
"Well, you know what they say about people who assume," she chided. "No, your father proposed to me on our one month anniversary."
I was shocked. That was two weeks less than I'd known Bethany, and my parents had been happily married for thirty-eight years, raised five sons, and never said an unkind word to each other that anyone had ever witnessed.
Mama's expression became wistful as she said, "I'll always remember the day he proposed. It was August fourth, and hotter than halleluiah. James took me down to the lake and we went skinny dipping."
"Mama!" I was horrified by the mental image, but she just giggled and kept talking.
"When we got out of the water, he handed me his shirt to wear. There was something in the pocket, and when I took it out, I saw it was an engagement ring. Your father got down on one knee, right in the sand, and asked me to marry him.
“That was nearly forty years ago, and we'd still be happily married today if it hadn't been for..."
Her voice trailed as we both thought of his untimely death. I'd been the one to find him, in a pool of blood from the bullet hole. I just thanked God that Mama hadn't come upon him first. Standing in the kitchen now, I hugged her to me and said, "I know, Mama."
"So, let that be a lesson to you on what does and doesn't lead to a successful marriage. It's not a question of how long you've known each other, but of how well. Do you know Bethany well enough to say if you'd want to spend the rest of your life with her?"
"I do," I said without a moment's hesitation.
"Well then, take this." Mama opened the cupboard above the stove and took down a cigar box. She opened the lid, and inside were all the letters Dad had ever written to her over the course of their lives together. On top of the letters was a solitaire diamond ring with a simple gold band worn by time. She took it out and handed it to me.
"Mama, no. I can't take this."
"Sure you can. It's not the most expensive ring in the world, but it's the most valuable. W
hen your father asked me to marry him and put it on my finger, I knew I'd never seen anything more beautiful in my life. Over the years, he saved up and bought me an even bigger diamond ring, which he gave to me on our twentieth anniversary.
“It's the ring I wear now, but I kept this one tucked away in my box of keepsakes for the day when one of my sons was ready to get married. I want you to take it, and don't you dare refuse."
"I'm really touched by this." I choked back the emotion that had welled up in my throat. I took the ring and stared at it. "Are you sure you want me to have it?"
"I've never seen you as happy as you've been since you met Bethany,” she said. “All I've ever wanted for my sons is for you to find the kind of love I shared with your father, and I think you have with her. Now, go offer that ring to Bethany before she slips away."
"Thank you." I kissed Mama on the cheek and rushed out the door. With the ring safely tucked into my pocket, I hopped onto Whiskey's back and urged her to a gallop, saying, "Come on, let's find Bethany. I'm going to ask her to be my wife."
Chapter Twenty-seven: Bethany
"Goodbye, Dad." I gave Frank a final hug in his cabin after having given him my sketch. His gruff chin scratched my cheek, and I savored the scent of him. I'd come to this ranch with the secret hope of finding my father and regaining the sense of family I'd always longed for, and now I had.
Blinking back tears, I said to him, "I'll call you when I get home. Maybe you can come out to Chicago some time to visit me. Or I can visit you wherever you end up, once you get settled of course."
"Hold on. Don't be in such a rush to go. I want to spend a little more with you, get to know more about you." He grabbed my hand and held it tight. “Let's talk a walk together.”
"I don't really have time." I'd seen William and Travis both pull into the driveway in their trucks and I knew the Hutchinsons would all be sitting down to dinner soon. It was the most special time of day, when they all celebrated each other's company, and one of the things I'd miss most about living here.