A Montana Christmas Reunion

by Roz Denny Fox

  She told rodeo friends goodbye and dashed home. She didn’t plan to stay late at Myra’s ranch, the Flying Owl, because ever since returning from DC, she’d felt dragged out. The good thing about tonight’s fitting was that Mrs. Odell said she still had her size from when she’d sewn Myra’s bridesmaid dresses. Tonight was a matter of fitting the new dress.

  Jewell debated taking the pup. As yet, no one had claimed him. He’d been a model companion the day she drove out to count snowy owls. He’d watched the big birds swoop around but hadn’t barked or cowered in fright. So she’d begun taking him on calls to ranches. He trailed so closely at her heels she started calling him Shadow. The name stuck.

  After she fed him, she rethought taking him to Myra’s out of deference for her friend’s pet mini pig. Orion, the pig, would be in a tizzy around a dog. That wouldn’t be fair.

  She backed out of her lane and drove west toward Myra and Zeke’s ranch. After only a few minutes she slowed to admire the dazzling evening Montana sky. Rows of lacy vanilla clouds streaked a mango-colored sunset that skimmed the mountaintops. She wondered if Tennessee had skies to compare. Aack! Hadn’t she sworn to Lila that she had to forget Saxon? The way he kept popping into her head at odd times, like now, she obviously wasn’t succeeding. And she needed to prepare for Myra to mention him. After all, she and Lila intended to phone and ask him to give a charity benefit for the snowy owls. Of course, he wouldn’t.

  On reaching the ranch, she parked and went to the door.

  Myra greeted her wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt that made her look more pregnant than when Jewell had seen her at the café.

  “Excuse me being so casual,” Myra said, ushering Jewell inside. “My OB has me wearing a baby girdle while I’m working around the ranch. She claims it relieves back strain. But by the time I finish the few chores Zeke lets me do, I’m ready to let my stomach pooch.”

  “Maybe you should forgo doing ranch work until after you have the babies. Hey, I see you have new dollhouses for the bazaar. Stay in and build more. Let Zeke handle outside chores.”

  “Exactly what I told her,” he said, coming up behind his wife to rub her shoulders.

  Myra made a face at him but then brushed a kiss over his knuckles. The intimacy left Jewell coveting what they had. To hide the sting, she sniffed the air. “I smell food, but I also hear your mom sewing away in the back bedroom. Is there time to fit my dress before suppertime?”

  “Zeke bought a smoker a few weeks ago. He’s fixing ribs outside so we don’t heat up the house. That’s something else about pregnancy—it’s playing havoc with my body’s thermostat. I used to toss around hay bales and never sweat. Now the slightest exertion and it pours off me. The doctor says it’s normal.” She heaved a big sigh. “But you asked about the dresses. Zeke, is there time for Jewell to try hers on?”

  “Sure, babe. I thought we’d eat on the screened porch. While you ladies inspect the sewing, I’ll go set the table.”

  “I’ll help.” Myra linked their hands. “Jewell doesn’t need me. I still may opt out of being in the wedding. So Lila’s photos won’t look like she has one bridesmaid wearing a tent.”

  “Lila won’t care,” Jewell protested. “She and Seth would rather have you in their wedding.”

  “That’s what I told her,” Zeke said.

  “Myra, if your situations were reversed, you’d say having friends share in a bride’s big day is more important than photographs.”

  “Maybe. Zeke, I’ll let you set the table and I’ll go get Jewell’s opinion on the shapeless dress Mom sewed for me.”

  Jewell hooked her arm through Myra’s and they ambled into the bedroom.

  Mrs. Odell stopped sewing and smiled. “Jewell, how nice to see you again. Your dress is hanging on the door. Unless it needs other adjustments, I only have to mark the hem.”

  Jewell studied the sleeveless sheath. “I told Lila I’m not big on fancy dresses, but that silk is beautiful.”

  “Mom, where’s my circus tent?”

  “Myra, it’s no such thing.” Her mother rolled her eyes. “I said a pair of back darts will give it some form, but you refuse to let me show you.”

  “Well, Zeke says I should be a bridesmaid. Jewell, too. You can change in the bathroom,” she told Jewell. “I’ll slip my dress on and let Mom pin some darts so we can see how I look next to you.”

  “You’ll glow like an expectant mother should,” Jewell insisted as she took her dress and disappeared into the adjoining bath.

  A few minutes later she stepped out and saw Myra’s mom pinning Myra’s dress. “You may have to do that to mine, too, Mrs. O. It feels loose.”

  The older woman motioned Jewell to a table where a pincushion sat. “You’re right. You’ve trimmed down since I made your last dress.”

  “Oh, right! Just what I didn’t need to hear,” Myra grumped.

  Jewell eyed her friend critically. “Has pregnancy affected your brain? You’re two inches taller than me. Your legs are longer by far. And that color matches your eyes. Frankly, I can’t see any of the weight you claim to have gained. Anyway, no one will notice your tummy if we carry bouquets.”

  Myra swiveled side to side in front of a full-length mirror. “We will have flowers. Lila put Seth in charge of ordering them. I told her she’s nuts, but she’s gaga over a rosebush he bought her. Now she considers him the world’s authority on flowers. Oh, listen to me. Hormones have made me bitchy.”

  Jewell grinned. “We all have our moments. Yesterday Vic Jones accused me of being snarky. He rousted me at dawn to check three sick heifers. Driving in, I saw bitterweed blooming along the fence where he grazes cattle, so I called him an idiot. Honestly, he should’ve known why his cows were sick.”

  Myra stopped in the middle of slipping out of her dress. “Bitterweed. I haven’t heard of any in the area recently. I’ll check our grazing sites tomorrow. Did Vic say he’d spray?”

  “No, but I’m sure he will. I embarrassed him. I shouldn’t have come down so hard on him, but I haven’t slept well since I got back from my trip.”

  “Oh? Any particular reason?” Myra asked after pulling on her sweats.

  Jewell hung up her dress and thanked Myra’s mom. She buttoned her jeans before answering. “I took in a stray pup the night I got back. I placed a rug next to my bed, but he prefers company. He’s a bit of a bed hog.”

  “A puppy you aren’t adopting out? That’s a first.”

  “Um, his owner may call. I tacked up flyers. He’s such a sweet dog.”

  “He must be. Are you sure you’re okay, Jewell? You’ve always worked tirelessly finding homes for strays. Were you more rattled by the committee’s refusal to set up an owl refuge than you let on? I’m not alone in thinking you’re out of sorts. Tawana said the same when she came to fit her dress.”

  Zeke called through the bedroom door that supper was ready. Myra opened the door, and Mrs. Odell shut off her sewing machine. That saved Jewell from manufacturing a response. She didn’t feel her old self. To get her mojo back, she just needed to forget Saxon.

  The others went to wash at the kitchen sink. Jewell stepped over to Orion’s pen. Someone had fed him lettuce and celery. She talked to him like she talked to Shadow and bent to rub his soft piggy ears. He closed his eyes and moved his head against her hand. “Orion looks good,” she said before taking her turn at the sink. “I remember he used to love going outside to dig in the dirt. I suppose since the episode where an owl almost made off with him, you’ve curtailed his outings.”

  “We still take him out thanks to my clever husband.” Myra led the way to the porch. “Zeke bought a big wire kennel and cut out the bottom. Put him inside, and Orion can dig to his heart’s content. It’s the equivalent of his own screened room.”

  “That’s so smart.” Jewell stood aside to let Myra take her se
at at the round patio table. Leaving the chair next to Myra for Zeke, Jewell pulled out one on the other side of Mrs. Odell.

  Myra passed a bowl of green salad but spared a moment to bestow a loving smile on her hubby, who came in bearing a platter of sizzling short ribs and foil-wrapped objects Jewell assumed were baked potatoes and corn on the cob. Everything looked delicious, but she recoiled from the barbecue odor wafting off the meat. She took a tongful of salad and set the bowl down. Since Zeke extended the platter, she chose the smallest potato, skipped the corn and cut off one rib before deferring to Mrs. Odell.

  “Goodness,” the woman exclaimed. “If that’s all you eat, Jewell, it’s no wonder I’m having to take in your dress. Surely, as slender as you are, you’re not dieting.”

  Jewell hated that all eyes turned to her. “I’m not dieting. Myra can tell you I usually eat hearty. Maybe my recent travels disrupted my appetite.”

  “You blamed travel for messing up your sleep.” Myra glanced up from slathering butter on her corn. “At least you’re not pregnant. Insomnia and nausea are what sent me to see a doctor.” She grinned at Zeke. “My doctor homed right in on my problem. You’d have thought with all of my experience handling pregnant cows, it might’ve crossed my mind. It didn’t, even though we never used anything to prevent pregnancy.”

  “Myra,” Zeke said. “TMI.”

  Jewell noticed his face had turned red. And Myra’s mom looked up from her plate. “You’ve lost me, Zeke. You military guys have acronyms for everything. I have to stop Eric frequently and demand he speak English.”

  “TMI isn’t militaryspeak, Mom,” Myra said. “It stands for too much information. And I think it’s time to change the subject.”

  “Yes,” the older woman said. “Zeke, with you and your brother both living in Montana, will your folks move here? Especially now that they’ll have grandchildren?”

  “You’ll have to ask them. They hated Boston winters. That’s what drove them to the Caribbean.”

  “Every time your mom calls, she asks about the snowy owls,” Myra put in. “She loved the photos you sent her last Christmas.”

  “Speaking of owls, considering how warm it is, I was surprised to see three hunting yesterday in my newly tilled field. All had pink leg bands.” Zeke aimed his statement at Jewell.

  “A few returned early. I believe it’s because mice and voles are plentiful and our summers aren’t outrageously hot. I’ve seen birds nesting on rocky outcrops, too.”

  “All the more reason we need to guarantee them a safe refuge,” Myra said.

  Mrs. Odell nodded. “It’s a shame you didn’t make headway with the government, Jewell. Would it help if you ladies sent them petitions filled with resident signatures?”

  Jewell shook her head. “The committee was receptive, but they have strict rules. They suggested we hook up with established birders who may have deep pockets. I plan to contact Audubon and other wildlife-defender organizations. I’ve not had time. Hopefully, I can do that between now and Lila and Seth’s wedding.”

  “Have you gone as a group to ask Leland Conrad to donate his forest?” Myra’s mother glanced first at her, then at Jewell.

  “Mother, he’s listed his ranch to sell as a package. His Realtor says the only way to get the forest is to buy the whole ranch. And he wants a pretty penny. Fair, but way more than we’ve earned at our bazaars.”

  Zeke licked sauce off his fingers. “Jewell, what might interest other birders to invest in our refuge?”

  She shrugged. “Other than saving a beautiful species and it being what they do, I’m not sure. I’ve always envisioned signs showing the Artsy Ladies donated our refuge. I suppose we could give another group top billing when we post our sanctuary.”

  Mrs. Odell picked up a rib. “With all the time, energy and money you six women have invested, it’d be a shame to share the spotlight with some Johnny-come-latelies who live elsewhere.”

  Myra darted Jewell a veiled glance. “Exactly Tawana’s point in us asking Saxon Conrad to give a benefit concert here. I know you say he’ll refuse, Jewell. But we’ll never know unless we try.”

  Jewell crushed her napkin into a ball and dropped it on the plate from which she’d taken scant few bites.

  Zeke cast a troubled peek between her and his wife. “Jewell, I don’t pretend to know what the problem is between you, Leland and his singing-sensation nephew. It’s cool knowing Saxon Conrad grew up here. His songs were favorites with the troops I served with. If you or Leland have a contact number, where’s the harm in having Lila and Myra call him?”

  “I don’t have his number. I gave Leland a business card for Saxon’s agent. Feel free to ask him for it. You know, guys, I appreciate you inviting me to supper, but I worked the rodeo all weekend, plus got up early to treat Vic’s sick cows. Would you mind terribly if I take off?”

  “You’ll miss out on Mom’s fresh peach pie,” Myra said.

  Jewell pushed back from the table. “Honestly, I can’t eat another bite.”

  Myra struggled to get up out of her chair. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “There’s no need.” Jewell placed a hand on Myra’s arm. “You haven’t finished eating.” She paused by Myra’s mom. “Mrs. O., will I need another fitting before the wedding?”

  “Not unless you lose more weight. Zeke’s mother and I will see the dresses get to the Owl’s Nest at least two hours before the ceremony. You can go straight there. I’ll have needle and thread for any last-minute nips and tucks.”

  “Thanks.” Jewell bent to hug Myra before walking to the door that led into the house. “Wait. No one said who I owe for the material. And we each should pay for your time, too,” she added to Myra’s mother.

  Mrs. Odell objected. “I love to sew. Plus it gives me an excuse to visit Myra. In fact, keep me in mind for when you tie the knot, Jewell.”

  Jewell laughed hollowly. “Don’t hold your breath. If ever that day comes, you’ll be off and retired somewhere, leaving your son to run your ranch.”

  “It’s plain you don’t know my husband. Retirement isn’t in his vocabulary.”

  “It’s hard to give up ranching when it gets in the blood,” Myra agreed. “As for the fabric, Jewell, Tawana put it on her credit card, so pay her. If I recall, we had this same discussion when Mom made dresses for our wedding.” She gestured at Zeke, who kept eating but had tuned out of the dress discussion.

  “Okay. But as good as you are at making fine dresses, you should hang out your shingle to sew wedding gowns and bridesmaid dresses as a business.”

  The older woman blushed. “For me it’s a labor of love. I’m so happy that Myra has made so many wonderful friends in her grandparents’ community.”

  Jewell pushed open the kitchen door. “Thanks again. I guess next time I see you all will be the start of August at Lila and Seth’s wedding.”

  “Earlier. Lila wants help decorating the B and B. And we need to finalize terms before Lila and I try to reach Saxon. We should have two possible dates, a site, and how far and wide we’re willing to advertise. Since I volunteered to call him, I checked him out online. I didn’t realize he was such a superstar. You may be right, Jewell—he’ll probably brush us off.”

  Jewell said, “Yes,” from inside the kitchen but realized her words might not have reached her friends, since the door slammed shut on her heels. It wasn’t worth repeating. How many times could she warn that Saxon would say no?

  Once in her pickup, she battled a sick feeling that her friends weren’t going to let her opt out of their scheme to book Saxon. Although the plan had merit, because of the way she left him in Maryland, she knew there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell he’d agree.

  Fifteen minutes later she parked in her garage and headed for the house. She opened the door and fancied she heard Saxon talking. She grabbed the doorknob to fend
off dizziness sweeping over her. It took a few seconds to get that his voice was coming from her answering machine. She had extensions in the clinic and house so she wouldn’t miss an emergency call. But what was he saying? Her ears buzzed.

  Shadow barked at the sound. His tail swept back and forth across the tile floor.

  Jewell steadied herself on the counter, but all she caught was Saxon saying, “Either you’re ignoring me, or you’re out on a call. Like I said, I’m in San Antonio. Tomorrow we’re off to Luckenbach. According to Donovan, phone service from here to there is spotty. Considering how you ran out on me, I wouldn’t ask for your help. But I don’t want the owner of my recording label to have lawyers contact Uncle Leland. I know you said you don’t know why he wants to see me. But I don’t know anyone else who might find out. Fred Harmon believes Leland plans to squeeze me for money. I don’t know. You can call me or leave a message. Or I’ll phone again from some other stop. I have concerts in a different town every night between here and LA.”

  The machine crackled and stopped. A light began to blink and Shadow loped over to stand on his hind legs and paw at Jewell’s knees. She dropped down on shaking legs and hugged his furry body close until she was able to feel like she could stand again without fainting.

  She deliberately filled Shadow’s water bowl and put kibble in his empty dish before she collected the wherewithal to play back Saxon’s entire message.

  He sounded so close it sent prickles up her spine. By concentrating, she managed to get the gist of his call. Leland’s note to him had been short on content. But his uncle asked to see Saxon in the flesh. Saxon even said he’d called Leland’s house but either Leland or someone else hung up without speaking. That was why Saxon’s recording company figured Leland was after money. It sounded as if Saxon wanted her to do his dirty work and press Leland as to why he sent the letter.