The Reluctant Cowgirl

by Christine Lynxwiler

  ***

  Jeremy glanced at the kitchen clock as he put the coffee on to brew. One minute till eleven. He didn’t know which he was more excited about—Crystal coming over early for coffee or the fact that his cattle were arriving in about an hour. He slid the filter holder in with a rueful grin and poured the water in. As much as he hated to admit it, Crystal probably trumped the cows as far as excitement factor.

  When he heard her old farm truck pull into the driveway, his heartbeat accelerated. He was pretty sure the cattle delivery truck wouldn’t cause that reaction. He took his best coffee mugs out of the cabinet and set them on the table then got the cream out of the refrigerator and put it by the sugar bowl. There. He was ready.

  The doorbell rang and he walked slowly into the foyer to answer it. “Crystal, good to see you.”

  And it was. Dressed in faded jeans, a blue shirt that matched her eyes, and a beat-up cowboy hat that he’d guess was one of her brothers’ castoffs, she was still prettier than any model he’d ever seen.

  She slipped off her hat as she stepped inside. “The coffee smells delicious.”

  “Come on in.” He motioned her to follow him. In the kitchen, he reached for the coffeepot. “Have a seat.”

  “Wait.” She held up a familiar brown leather satchel. “I brought you something.”

  He stopped with his hand still extended toward the coffeepot and raised an eyebrow. “You thought my cattle might be sick?”

  She smiled and blushed. For the first time he noticed a smattering of freckles across her nose. “No, silly. This is for you. I figured the Buchanans needed their own official calf-birthing kit to pass down through the generations.”

  He stared at it. “For me? This isn’t the same one you had that day?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. This is your very own.”

  He took it and opened it. She stepped close to him and watched him lift the items out. There were all the same things she’d pulled from the bag the day they’d helped the cow give birth.

  He grinned. “This is amazing, Crystal.” Something in the bottom caught his eye and he reached in and fished it out. “What’s this?” It was rectangular and flat, wrapped in the Sunday comics.

  She shrugged, her chin almost touching his shoulder. “Looks like the good rancher fairy left you a welcome-to-the-cattle-business present. You’ll have to open it and see.”

  He ripped the paper away carefully, holding it out in front of him.

  She gave him a look of feigned disbelief. “What? You don’t trust me?”

  He glanced down at her sparkling eyes. “Most of the time I do.”

  He held the sign up and read it. HOME Is WHERE THE HERD Is. He grinned at her. A couple of years ago, he’d have agreed. But today he knew his home was wherever Beka ... and Crystal were. “Thank you,” he said softly. “That’s my kind of sign.”

  “It reminded me of you. I love how you’ve waited for this dream to come true.”

  He turned toward her and looked down into her unwavering gaze. “I love—”

  “Knock, knock.” His dad burst through the back kitchen door. “Got any coffee around this—” He stopped like someone had knocked the breath out of him. “Oh. Sorry.”

  Crystal casually took one step away, and Jeremy smiled. “Hi, Dad. We were just about to get a cup.” He set the satchel on the counter and got another mug from the cabinet. “You’re just in time.”

  “I saw y’all’s farm truck out front and thought Luke had gotten off work and come by to help unload cattle.” His dad’s smile was sheepish as he directed his words to Crystal. “I don’t usually just barge in. I’m pretty excited about seeing Jeremy’s cattle.” He sat down at the table.

  “I don’t blame you,” she said. “That’s why I came early, too. For the cows”—she looked toward Jeremy, who was holding the coffeepot—“and the coffee.”

  Jeremy poured all three of them mugs of coffee.

  They’d barely finished the first cup when an engine roared outside.

  Crystal slipped her mug into the sink and turned to face him and his dad with a big grin. “Party’s over. Sounds like the cows just came home.”

  ***

  Crystal leaned against the corral fence and looked out over the green hills, dotted with cattle.

  “Hard to believe they’re finally here.” The pride in Jeremy’s voice as he came up behind her made her smile.

  She turned to look at him. “I’ve never seen prettier cows anywhere.”

  He coughed.

  “What?”

  “I know you didn’t just call my cattle pretty.”

  She gasped in mock indignation. “Well, they are pretty.”

  He shoved his hat back on his head. “Whatever.”

  She laughed and pointed to two calves chasing each other. “Are they pretty?”

  “You never give up, do you?” His grin belied his words.

  “Rarely.”

  “In the spring, when we have a whole new batch of calves, then you can say they’re pretty. And I’ll agree.”

  She shivered in spite of the sun. He was talking like she was going to be here in the spring.

  And in that moment, she realized she was counting on it.

  CHAPTER 28

  Crystal dropped the last empty box in the hall with a hollow thump and ruffled the dust from her hair. “This is all Jeremy’s fault,” she muttered to the closed door in front of her. She’d planned to just rush into the room, get her plays, and get out. But no. When she’d seen how excited Jeremy was about his future as he’d proudly unloaded his cattle, she’d realized how badly she needed to put the past to rest so she could face her own future. So she’d come home, taken a quick shower, and headed to the attic to get boxes. And now here she stood. Ready to put the past to rest. Supposedly.

  She knew she could open the door. She’d done that twice already. Third time’s a charm, she thought, as she twisted the knob and pushed the door open. From the doorway, her gaze took in the matching dressers, beds, desks, and, at the end of the room, a small bookshelf between the windows. She should have come back in here that first night after Cami died. By not facing the familiar, she’d let it become foreign and terrifying.

  She grabbed a box in each hand and trudged over to her dresser. Might as well start with the easiest task first. As she reached to open the first drawer, she noticed an unfamiliar book on the oak dresser top. She picked it up and ran her hand over the shiny cover in wonder. The school yearbook from her senior year. Had Mama mentioned that it came in the mail after she went to New York? Maybe. Probably.

  For the last seven years, Crystal had been especially adept at blocking out what she didn’t want to face. But today was about facing something bigger. And if she opened that cover, she might never get back to the room. She set it over by the door to take with her when she was done.

  Suddenly impatient to get the whole thing over with, she yanked open the first drawer. Neatly folded T-shirts, one or more of almost every color imaginable, were packed inside. As she pulled them out, she swallowed hard at the memories attached to a couple of pieces of fabric sewn together with a design on the front. She stacked them on her bed, remembering an online article about making a quilt out of old T-shirts.

  Twenty minutes later, she was kicking herself for not working up the courage to do this when she’d first gotten to the ranch. Fashion had changed a lot in seven years, but these work jeans and shirts would have worked fine during her weeks of looking after things. She put several outfits over to the side to wear in the future when she needed to knock around with the cows and then scooted the two boxes to the middle of the floor. Even without the T-shirts and work clothes she’d saved out, they were full. And all her dresser drawers were empty.

  She stood and carried a smaller box to her desk and opened the drawer. Her plays filled the space, some printed from the computer, some handwritten. She plunked down in the desk chair and flipped through them. As she skimmed the one about Spring and Summe
r, she smiled. She’d assumed that reading her compositions with adult eyes would make her realize they weren’t as good as she remembered. But this wasn’t bad at all. It would be great to teach and perform for a drama day camp. She scooped the plays into the small box, set it by the door with the yearbook, and snagged an empty box. All that was left in her desk were a few odds and ends—paperclips, ink pens, a neat stack of clean notebook paper.

  She walked over to Cami’s desk and opened the drawer. And shook her head. She should have known. A few wrinkled pages of blank notebook paper. A pen. And a pencil with the lead broken off. For Cami, school had been a nice place to meet friends. What studying she’d done had been done sitting on the bed. Or even the floor.

  Crystal shut the drawer and faced the bookshelf. A corkboard half filled with snapshots was propped on top of it. A group shot of all the McCord kids caught her eye and she leaned in to get a better look. One of the last times they put on a “production” out at the barn. Cami was holding up two fingers behind Luke’s head, totally unaware that Kaleigh was doing the same thing to her. Typical. She started to take it down then pulled her hand back. The pictures were part of their lives. And there was still a lot of corkboard to fill.

  She squatted down in front of the small bookshelf she and Cami had split. Crystal’s side had her favorites—classics old and new, like Little Women, A Wrinkle in Time, Pride and Prejudice. As she slid her fingers down the spines of the books, she stopped. Uh-oh. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Those were Kaleigh’s. Borrowed and never returned. She slipped them out and dropped them on her bed. Better late than never.

  Cami’s top shelf was packed with acting magazines. Crystal glanced over her shoulder at the beds. There was no telling how many hours they’d spent sitting cross-legged on those beds while Cami read acting tips aloud and made Crystal repeat them back to her. People thought of Cami as the flighty twin, but she was serious about acting. And determined that Crystal be, too.

  Oh, Cami, I miss your determination and your energy. A bittersweet smile played across Crystal’s lips as she pulled the magazines off the shelf and put them in the empty box. Who am I kidding? I miss you. Period.

  She dragged the box of magazines over to join the other boxes in the middle of the room and cast a wary glance at the closet. She’d taken all her own hanging clothes to New York. So what was left would be Cami’s. That cute little blue sundress that she loved so much. The silver sequined formal she’d worn when she’d been crowned homecoming queen.

  A lump formed in Crystal’s throat, but she bit her lip hard and slid the door open.

  She blinked and leaned in to examine the tiny space. It was empty.

  Why would that be? Her mama had specifically told Elyse that she was leaving their room for Crystal to face.

  Her heart pounded as she ran over to Cami’s dresser and yanked open the top drawer. Empty. She opened the next one. Same thing. Each drawer she opened was as empty as her savings account. She fell down on her knees and opened the bottom drawers one at a time. Nothing. Until the last drawer. A folded piece of notebook paper was all that was inside. She picked it up and opened it, immediately recognizing the handwriting that filled the whole page as being her mother’s. It was dated at the top. Four years ago.

  Dear Crystal, she read and sank back to sit cross-legged on the floor.

  If you found this letter, it means you finally faced your fears about your bedroom. I’m so proud of you. Cami would be, too. Honey, everyone deals with grief in their own way. Losing Cami has been hard on all of us. Especially you, her twin. The other half of her, she used to say.

  A teardrop fell onto the paper and Crystal swiped at her eyes. She hadn’t even realized she was crying. She blinked to clear her vision and looked back at the paper.

  You’re probably wondering where Cami’s clothes are. (If you haven’t already run downstairs to ask me.) I hope the answer to that question doesn’t upset you.

  I always intended for you to go through her things. It seemed right somehow. I was hoping you’d ask me or one of the other girls to help you but I knew you needed to be there. Until today when Mrs. Shelton from church called and said a family down on Turkey Trot Road had their house burn to the ground last night. The dad is unemployed, they let their insurance lapse, and they lost everything. One daughter, a senior in high school, and she’s the same size as you and Cami were three years ago.

  Honey, I’m sorry, but my conscience wouldn’t let me leave these clothes packed away upstairs when someone needs them. Cami would want her to have them. And I know you would, too, if you were thinking clearly. No one has a more giving heart than you do.

  Crys, in a way losing you was worse than losing Cami. Because even though we’ll always miss her, we know where Cami is and that she’s better than okay. I hope the fact that you’re reading this letter means you’ve come home to us to stay. At least in your heart. That would be an answer to my prayers.

  Love, Mama

  Crystal let the paper drop to her lap as the sobs shook her shoulders. She was glad her mother had put Cami’s clothes to good use, but tears flowed freely down her face as she wept for Cami and the future on earth she’d never have. And for their family and the awful pain they’d dealt with—essentially losing two daughters at once. And for herself. And the confused thing she’d called life since she left here.

  She got the message her mother was trying to send her, loud and clear.

  Death with God was just the beginning of a journey. But life without God was no life at all.

  ***

  Jeremy set his fork on his plate and pushed back from the table a little. “That was delicious, Mom. As usual.”

  Crystal nodded. “Mrs. Buchanan, everything was so good.”

  Luke and Elyse echoed her words. And Jeremy’s dad nodded. “Just wait until you try her tunnel-of-fudge cake.”

  Jeremy’s mom blushed, but she was beaming. “Thank you. If y’all like it, I thought that’s what I’d bring to the party next Saturday.”

  Jeremy saw a slight frown flit across Crystal’s face. “Are you sure the ladies from church don’t mind providing the desserts and side dishes?” She smiled. “I know they’ll be better if y’all make them, but we were prepared to pay someone to cater.”

  His mom put her napkin on the table. “Don’t be silly. We’re thrilled to be a part of this celebration. It’ll be more fun this way.”

  “What about the barbecue?” his dad asked.

  Luke cleared his throat. “Bart Davis from church volunteered to do all the smoking and barbecuing if we provide the meat.”

  “Well, then”—Jeremy’s mom clapped her hands once as if that settled it—“he’s the best in the country. So it sounds like the food is taken care of.”

  Elyse nodded. “We sure do appreciate it.”

  Jeremy’s dad glanced into the living room, where Beka was playing with her doll. “Isn’t Beka’s teacher Bart Davis’s daughter?”

  Jeremy’s mom nodded. “That’s right, she is.”

  “Patti?” Crystal said. “I didn’t know she was a teacher. We went to school together.”

  His mom smiled. “She’s really taken with Beka.”

  “I think she’s taken with the fact that Beka has a young, handsome, single daddy,” his dad said.