The Man from Montana
Page 15
His brother’s face was dubious. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? What about the mistakes she made while working in the office? They would have been expensive if they hadn’t been caught. Maybe that was her plan.”
“I refuse to be paranoid. Anyway, I’m convinced the mistakes weren’t intentional. And how would it look if I asked her to leave?” Clay countered. “There’s nothing to hide, but it might appear that way.”
“I agree,” Aunt Emma said and Uncle Lee nodded.
Clay hated putting his family in a difficult position, but this was new territory for him. A nagging sense of guilt and failure had haunted him since Renee Claremont’s death. Intellectually, he knew he’d done everything possible to rescue her, yet it was hard to convince the part of himself that still felt responsible. Most of the time he was able to push the feeling away. After all, he couldn’t second-guess every decision he made when out with a group of guests. But now that he was aware of Tessa’s connection to the tragedy, she would be a constant reminder.
“No one else needs to know about Tessa. It’s best if we keep this between us,” he said. “I’ll work with her on any trips, so you won’t have to interact with her more than absolutely necessary. Is there anything else we should discuss?”
“Uh, yeah. I talked to my mom earlier,” Jillian said. “She’s starting to get calls, asking when the engagement party will be. I think there are expectations because of the big bash my folks threw when Michael and I got engaged. They know we can’t do much until Dad is better, but they’re still curious.”
Aunt Emma gave her hand a squeeze. “This must be bringing up painful memories. We’ll start planning an event. Everybody will understand if we have it at the Carson Double C. The end of the month might be a good time. It’ll be fun.”
“That’s right,” Andrew agreed, looking more cheerful. “But Mom and Dad usually spend July here, so what about an Independence Day barn dance with desserts and homemade ice cream? We’ll decorate with red, white and blue bunting and balloons. We can announce it as an engagement bash, and if Mallory is gone by then, just say we decided to go ahead with our plans and have a great party. Is that okay with you, Clay? We’ve talked about having a big Fourth of July event here at the ranch. This could get us to do it.”
Clay saw conflicting emotions on Jillian’s face, but if having an engagement party was necessary to convince Andrew’s ex that Derry was going to have a new mother, then they needed to have a party.
“Sounds good,” he said. “What do you think, Uncle Lee? We can hire extra people to make desserts in the kitchen, or else order from a bakery.”
Uncle Lee snorted. “No one is using a bakery if I have any say in the matter. I can arrange everything in-house. No need to hire temporary staff. The kitchen crew will be delighted to have a few extra hours.”
“And I’ll do my part,” Aunt Emma asserted.
“Dad won’t be able to help, but my mom will want to be involved,” Jillian added. “She loves this kind of thing.”
Clay nodded. “Then we have a plan. Look, I’m going over to the office. Whatever you decide is fine, just let me know what I’m supposed to do.”
Andrew caught up with him at the office porch. “Clay, I’m still concerned about Tessa being here,” he said in a low tone. “Isn’t it odd that she came up here from Arizona? It’s been months since the accident.”
“With mostly winter between then and now, it may have been her first good opportunity. Regardless, I might have done the same thing in her shoes.” Clay unlocked the door and gestured his brother inside, then closed it behind them to ensure their privacy. “Tessa and her family are grieving. You haven’t seen her face when she talks about Renee. Don’t forget, she’s the one who lost her sister.”
“And I almost lost my brother because Renee Claremont was reckless,” Andrew returned in a raised voice. “Tell Tessa whatever she wants to know and get her out of here.”
“I don’t know what to tell her, and I don’t want to ask her to leave. But it isn’t because of what she might think, or because of how it would look,” Clay admitted. “I’m having trouble dealing with what happened myself. Maybe talking together will help us both sort things out.”
“You can talk to me.”
“If it wasn’t for Tessa, I probably wouldn’t be saying anything about it in the first place,” Clay said tersely.
Andrew winced. “Yeah, getting you to talk about your feelings isn’t impossible, just next to impossible. But I still don’t like you being on backcountry trips with her.”
Clay ran his fingers through his hair, searching for the right words. “What Renee did isn’t her sister’s fault. Tessa is knowledgeable about wilderness safety and has been very helpful. A few days ago I even let her take a group out alone. Just for a two-hour hike, but the guests raved when they got back and great comments have been posted to our social-media pages. People are really excited when they go the extra mile to write a letter or post something electronically.”
“Yeah. You know, life was a whole lot simpler when we were kids.”
Andrew dropped onto the office couch, his face drawn. The past few years had been hard on him between the mess with Mallory and the need to raise a child on his own. The accident with Renee Claremont had taken its toll, as well—Clay hadn’t even realized how much before seeing the anger in his brother’s face. And now Andrew was afraid, however unlikely, that he could lose custody of Derry, or at the very least, face an ugly, expensive court battle.
Some coffee remained in the pot, so Clay filled a cup and stuck it in the microwave.
“We just thought times were simpler when we were younger,” he said over his shoulder. “But they weren’t. We didn’t understand how serious Dad’s heart condition might be, or how sick Grandpa Bartholomew was with his chemo treatments and how close we came to losing him. There were other scares, too, like when Great-Aunt Eloise had a burst appendix. Mom and Dad protected us, just like you try to protect Derry.”
“I know.”
The microwave dinged and he removed the cup.
“You’ll never sleep tonight, drinking coffee this late,” Andrew told him.
Clay took a swig of the strong, black brew. Having started out as high-quality beans, the flavor wasn’t bad, even reheated. “Doesn’t matter. Anyway, it’s probably decaf. That’s what Oliver usually makes in the afternoon.”
“It was a good move to put him in here in place of Tessa. He’s excellent at managing the office.”
“Yeah. By the way, Tessa has figured out the relationship between Derry and Mallory.”
His brother groaned.
“It’s going to be fine. She isn’t the kind of person who would do or say anything to hurt the situation. Now go talk to Jillian. I suspect she’s unhappy with you. Tell her you’re sorry.”
“Why are you assuming I did something wrong?”
Clay lifted an eyebrow.
Andrew sighed and got up. “You’re right. I’ll apologize again. Who would have guessed that a trip to a jewelry shop would put me in the doghouse?”
“I’m not even going to speculate on what that’s supposed to mean. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
TESSA HAD PROMPTLY gone back to the hardware store after returning to the ranch with Clay.
She’d been amazed by the store’s broad selection of native grasses and had filled the back of her SUV. She wanted to get the planters sorted out when he wasn’t around, but had overlooked the fact that he was almost always around unless he was with a group, and then she was with him.
Her hope was to surprise Clay with how natural the planters would look with the grasses, softening the lines of the building. It might be the only way he could see their value.
Now, she watched from the front window of the bunkhouse after seeing Clay and his brother disappear in the direction of the office
. A short time later Andrew reappeared and went back into his house.
Tessa waited awhile longer, then finally went out to her SUV and drove it around to the public parking area closest to the office. She had a feeling it would be difficult to surprise Clay, no matter how hard she tried.
Though the ranch probably had gardening implements, she’d purchased a selection of hand tools. As soon as she moved the planters to where she wanted them, she began spading up the contents, removing dead root systems and adding organic compost. Much as she loved being up in the mountains, exploring meadows and woodland trails and hearing the bright rush of water in creeks and streams, there was a soothing normality to the task.
She was so focused that when the office door opened, she jumped and put a hand to her throat.
“What are you doing?” Clay asked.
“Preparing the dirt, though this isn’t dirt exactly, it’s really old potting mix. You can’t just stick plants in and expect them to grow well. You said it would be all right for me to do what I wanted out here.”
“I didn’t think you’d start this evening. Where did those bags come from?” He pointed to the compost containers.
“The hardware store in Elk Point. I went back. You’re right, they have quite a bit of yard...stuff.” Tessa had trouble keeping her face straight. “The mixture in these planters is drained of nutrients and the compost will help fix that. I thought about replacing the contents entirely, but I think this will be okay for now.”
She dug her gloved hands into the rich compost and threw another load into the planter.
“It’s great that you want to dress the place up, but do me a favor and don’t make things too—” Clay stopped and Tessa cocked her head.
“Too cute or flowery?” she teased. “In town they have lovely baskets hanging from hooks on the old-style streetlights. They’re filled with trailing flowers. Don’t you want to fit in with all that charm and atmosphere?”
“That kind of thing looks good in Elk Point, but I’m not sure it’s the right image for an outdoor adventure company.”
Tessa grinned. “Believe it or not, I agree. I might add something a little fun out here, but will you trust me not to make everything too colorful and fussy? Because I assume that’s what you’re concerned about.”
Clay sat on the railing. “Since I gave you free rein, I don’t have much say in the matter.”
“I don’t agree. You probably wouldn’t allow me to dig up the front, for example.”
Tessa tried to keep a hopeful note from her tone. She kept envisioning a water feature that looked as if the cabin had been built over it, with water cascading over large rocks and spilling into a small pond or trickling creek, with native trees and bushes on the other side. She often incorporated water into her landscape designs in Arizona, usually supported by a rain collection and storage system, but this would be on a grander scale than most of her previous projects.
“That depends. How long would it have to be dug up?” Clay asked warily. “We’re going into a really busy season. It would be challenging to have the area looking like a construction zone for an extended period.”
It was a good point. She’d prefer doing the work herself, which could take weeks or longer, and there were also the potential issues of permits and water rights. The tantalizing images in her mind began to be replaced by more practical options that would be swifter to implement.
“A few days at most,” Tessa said. “I need to consider what would work best.”
“I guess that’s okay. It’s getting dark. Are you done?”
“For now. Have a good night.” Tessa tucked the gardening tools in her vehicle, then gathered the old root tangles and empty compost bags and walked them over to the discreetly concealed dumpsters and recycling bins.
Clay was gone when she returned and she breathed easier.
Tomorrow she’d come out at first light to deal with the plants in her SUV. With any luck she’d be able to get everything into the planters before he saw them. She was looking forward to seeing the display herself; the native grasses were different in Montana than in Arizona, but they were just as beautiful.
It was probably too much to hope he’d be impressed, but it was nice to think about the possibility. And ridiculous. On the other hand, it could be a step toward proving to everyone that she wasn’t here to cause trouble.
* * *
AT DAWN THE next morning, Tessa went the long way around the outer buildings to avoid disturbing anyone in the ranch houses. She unloaded the pots from her SUV and swiftly got everything into the various planters she’d prepared.
Finally, she watered everything.
She was pleased with her efforts. It wasn’t a true landscaping job, but it was gratifying to see what could be done economically with a few plants.
She stepped back and evaluated the office with a critical eye. Soft ornamental grasses in the half-barrel planters now highlighted the steps up to the office porch. The open area under the porch was obscured by the old box planters she’d found and filled, as well, helping to visually anchor the building. The gardening expert at the store had assured her that some of the grasses turned rich colors in autumn, which would add variety. A single pot of flowering native plants sat on the rustic table between two chairs, balancing the deliberate asymmetry of the design. She would have to find the right fanciful touch to put her mark on the place, but that shouldn’t be too hard.
Tessa collected the empty containers and set them in the cargo area of her SUV. The hardware store had said they’d be used again by their local grower if she returned them, so she’d take care of it when she had other errands to run in Elk Point.
“I’m impressed,” said Andrew Carson as she tucked the coiled hose under the porch.
“Oh, hi.”
From the way his gaze avoided hers, Tessa guessed that his brother had told him about her relationship to Renee. She understood, even though she wished it hadn’t been necessary. Her friends in Tucson had finally moved past the awkwardness that seemed to follow a death; now she saw the same awkwardness in Andrew Carson.
She decided to be frank. “Andrew, I realize Clay must have told you about my sister, but there isn’t any need to say something about it. In fact, I’d prefer it if you don’t.”
He seemed to marginally relax. “That’s nice of you. I’m lousy at finding the right words.”
“Join the club. So you’re okay with what I’ve done out here?”
“Sure. I’ve told Clay a skirting is needed on the base of the porch, but this works even better.”
“I hope he agrees. He wasn’t enthusiastic about the idea of ornamental grasses, but they’re more natural than other options. These are all native species, so they won’t be invasive.”
Andrew smiled wryly. “Other than knowing invasive species can be an issue, I know nothing about gardens. Brown thumbs must run in the family because my mom and dad can barely keep a lawn alive, and Clay is just as bad.”
“That’s okay. Without people like you, I wouldn’t have a career,” she teased. “I don’t know if your brother mentioned it, but back home I’m a landscape architect. Um, I’d better move my SUV to the private lot before guests start arriving.”
Feeling as if she was escaping, Tessa drove to the parking area reserved for employees. Despite what she’d said to Andrew, and his reply, she sensed an underlying uneasiness. She regretted it. To date she’d had little to do with anyone in the family besides Clay, but had enjoyed being in a place where her emotional baggage wasn’t known.
Of course, the problem with trying to get away from it all was that you take yourself with you. So while Clay and his family hadn’t known of her connection to Renee until the sheriff had spilled the beans, she’d known. The hardest part now would be convincing everyone she didn’t have undesirable motives for coming to Montana; she could see how it might look unde
r the circumstances.
She showered and French-braided her wet hair. There wasn’t much tidying needed in her small room or the rest of the bunkhouse, but not knowing when the other occupants would be arriving, she gave the kitchen a good clean, along with the communal social space.
Someone knocked on the door and she found Clay on the doorstep. “Yes?”
“I was wrong, the grass stuff you planted looks great,” he said with an embarrassed expression. “And, uh, I know I told you to take the day off, but I’ve had guests calling about the overnight trip that leaves this afternoon. They’ve asked if the ‘dog heroine’ can go along. You’re a celebrity.”
Heat rose in her face. “I’m not a heroine.”
He held up a newspaper. On the bottom half of the front page were two pictures—one of Aiden and Skeeter, the second of her taken in Ruby Jenkins’s real estate office. The title of the article was Montana Newcomer Rescues Lost Dog. The caption under her photo read “Dog Heroine, Tessa Alderman of Carson Outdoor Adventures.”
Tessa wrinkled her nose. There was nothing heroic about her; she’d just been in the right place at the right moment, which was exactly what she’d told Ruby Jenkins. “How many times do I have to say it wasn’t just me?”
“You’re the one who insisted on looking for Skeeter. Credit where credit is due,” Clay reminded her. “It’s a nice article. Ruby is a dog lover, which is why she wanted to do a second story. The first one had gone to print before we got back with Skeeter.”
“But it was Molly who was responsible more than anything,” Tessa protested. “We never would have found Skeeter without her ability to follow scents. The name of the story should be ‘Golden Retriever Has Golden Nose’ or something along those lines.”
Clay cocked his head. “Molly gets her share of accolades. Is there a reason you don’t want to be given credit? You’ve done a good job of trying to avoid it. I can’t help wondering if it has something to do with your sister.”