by Nancy Radke
“Oh, sure, of course he would. He’d love to.” And have a grand old time, too, at her and her grandfather’s expense. It would be like handing Adam a loaded gun and helping him point it at his enemy’s heart. “I can’t do that to Gramps. He...he trusts me. He knows I wouldn’t let him down.” Between her attraction for Adam and her loyalty to Gramps, her feelings took a wild swing.
Glancing down at the crescent-shaped nail prints on her palms, Jo shook her head, then picked up her sandwich. She searched her mind for an alternative solution, but came up blank.
Tears welled silently from Karen’s expressive eyes and her head dropped, lower lip clamped tight in despair.
“Now don’t start to cry,” Jo said. “Talk to Mom in the morning. You should’ve told her long ago.” Jo finished her sandwich and walked into the bathroom to brush her teeth.
Karen followed, swiping at the tears that were still flowing, shoulders sagged in distress. “Mom’s worried about Jenny, with Tom working such crazy hours. She’s driving to Pendleton to stay with her until the baby is born.”
“What’s wrong?” Neither Tom nor Jenny had mentioned anything last week when Jo had called them.
“Jenny’s doctor thinks there could be complications. Her mother has the flu, so Tom called Mom.”
“I hope Jenny is okay. And the baby.” Jo turned away and set her alarm clock for three a.m. as Karen watched.
“Where are you going at that hour in the morning?”
“To help Adam separate the herds. They’re sure to be mixed up. I might not get home until eight or later.”
“You’re seeing Adam? Please, Jo, won’t you change—?”
“No! I’d rather face barbed wire and bulls any day than tangle with Adam.” Jo jerked her head emphatically. She didn’t want a stick of dynamite in her hands all summer, ready to blow her emotions sky-high. And Adam was capable of that. He’d push the situation past any limits she set.
Grampa always said a Trahern would take more than you gave them, and she knew he was right. She had first hand experience with Adam doing just that.
“Please, Jo. If you won’t help me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“What’s the difference? Adam and me, or Johnny and you?”
“Lots. Gramps thinks you can do no wrong. You can convince him black is white. No one else can even persuade him to take his heart medicine.”
“True. But getting engaged to his worst enemy is a little different.”
“He’ll still take it better from you. Gramps always accepts whatever you do.”
Gramps was only half the problem. “He’d think I turned traitor.”
“At first, maybe. You know you’re Grampa’s favorite. You can get him to come around if anyone can.”
The temptation to agree to Karen’s plan was strong. But would it destroy the close relationship she had with her grandfather?
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
If she agreed to this, could she trust Adam to play it straight? Or would he keep changing the rules, embarrassing her like he had in high school? Maybe insist on playing the heavy lover?
But, if she didn’t help out, Karen might miss her chance for happiness. Jo knew how worried her mother was over Karen’s lack of boy friends. If Johnny could see her sister’s worth, then he should be encouraged. “What if we simply told Gramps about you and Johnny?”
“Too sudden. We might set off another heart attack. You know the doctor said he shouldn’t be upset.”
Jo rubbed her hand across her face. She had found that out tonight. Should she try? She looked at Karen’s face, frozen with a mixture of hope and uncertainty, the dark stain adding its silent plea. An even stronger persuasion was the memory of Adam’s arms, holding her. “Well...okay, I’ll talk to Adam about it.”
Karen threw both arms around her resigned older sister and hugged her tightly. “You will? Oh, Jo, thank you! I’ll call Johnny right now and tell him!”
“I didn’t say I’d do it, just that I’d talk to Adam.”
“I know, but—”
“I need to think about this.”
“Of course. Just so something’s being done.”
“It might work,” Jo muttered, half to herself.
“It will, I know it will,” Karen proclaimed with the irrational belief that if you wanted something badly enough, you’d get it.
“We’ll see. Maybe we can come up with a better idea. Good night. I have to get to sleep.”
“Good night, Jo. Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome.” I guess. She watched as Karen softly closed the door.
I should have my head examined for even considering this. The last thing I want is to get entangled with Adam Trahern. What if he intends to use Karen’s plan against Gramps? Jo closed her eyes tightly, tossing uncomfortably in bed. She wouldn’t put it past him.
Was she wise enough to spot it, and stop him, if that was his intention? And was she strong enough emotionally to keep him at arm’s length throughout the charade, so she could break away afterwards, without tearing herself apart?
A little of him at one time seemed all she could handle. Like today. He had only been trying to steady her, but her emotions had taken off at a rough gallop.
As a demonstration of her power to resist him, it wasn’t.
Distraught, Jo thumped her pillow into shape. She’d do almost anything to help Karen find happiness.
Just then Karen eased open the door, interrupting Jo’s thoughts. “You still awake? Mike called. He’ll take the truck. You can load Paca at three-thirty.”
“Great. Thanks.” That would save Paca’s legs. It would also give her a chance to talk with Mike.
The first light had not yet paled the sky when Jo left the house, but its promise was visible. It was the best time of day, becoming lighter by the minute.
The morning hours were cool and her denim jacket inadequate, so she worked quickly to warm herself up. The mountain breeze stayed quiet—force zero on the Beaufort scale. The wind force probably wouldn’t change until evening, when cooler air rushed down the mountain, pulled by gravity.
She checked Paca’s cuts, putting fresh salve on the deepest one. It was not enough to slow the horse down, and the mare snorted and pranced around like a three-year-old. By the time she loaded Paca, she could distinguish dim outlines.
Mike greeted her with an older brother’s nonchalance, the tone of his voice telling her how glad he was to have her home, even if his words and actions were matter-of-fact.
He was large-boned, almost homely, solid as steel. Both his nose and ears were on the large side—as were his father’s—so that classmates during his grade school years nicknamed him “Dumbo.” As he grew taller, all reference to the little elephant was dropped and the previously embarrassing features now gave his face an open, honest appearance.
He loaded the truck carefully, tying the fence posts down so they wouldn’t bounce around and bother Paca. A roll of barbed wire hung suspended on the outside of the stock rack and a gunny sack containing staples, hammers, cutters and a wire-stretcher was placed on the floor in the cab.
He put the truck into gear and drove away from the loading ramp, traveling relatively fast on the graveled road, slower as they turned onto the rock and dirt of the mountain section. Up ahead, Adam waited, and Jo found the anticipation both frightening and exhilarating.
“By the way, Mike...”
“Yes?”
“Adam told me about your friendship. You two kept that well hidden.”
He shot her a look of amusement. “You look like a child not invited to the party. So he told you, huh? So what’d you say?” he asked, eyebrows lifted in query.
“Nothing. What could I say?”
He shrugged. “When Adam saved your life, I decided to thank him personally. Nobody else did.”
“You like Adam, don’t you?”
“Anyone in their right mind would. He keeps his word, which is more than you can
say for half the people running around this old world. I’d trust him with my life.”
“Keeps his word? He’s as unreliable as a hungry bear.”
“That’s Gramps talking. Give me one time when Adam has not kept a promise.”
“Why....” Scornful words rose from the past, bitter words that had slammed harshly against Jo’s tender emotions. Adam usually hurt her, deeply, whenever they argued about Gramps. Would Karen’s plan decrease...or increase his bitterness? “He never promised me anything in particular.”
“I can understand why. You’re so prejudiced and unreasonable.”
“Oh, but...” Naturally she was extra-sensitive about Adam, even talking about him made her tense up. But she wasn’t prejudiced.
“The guy’s never done anything against you,” Mike ground out, “and he’s bent over backwards for this family, yet you snub him every chance you get. Do you remember four winters ago when it snowed so hard early in the year, and Dad and I had to dig out the herd?” he inquired.
“Yes. It took two days.” She studied her brother’s face, curiosity aroused. What had that to do with Adam?
“Adam came as soon as he heard, helped us rescue them.”
There had not been a word about this ever mentioned to the rest of the family. No one had sent her the information. No wonder Adam accused their family of being secretive. That was an understatement.
If Gramps had been told some of this information, his animosity might have lessened and Karen and Johnny more readily accepted, Jo thought. And maybe she herself wouldn’t have been so set against everything Adam did. So untrusting.
“Dad knows, too?” Did everyone except her? Someone could have texted and told her. She felt betrayed, left out of family affairs.
“Yes. He and Mr. Trahern had to work together the same as Adam and I will this morning. They ignored the situation, never talked about it, but it always hung between them. It’s hard to be pleasant to someone who has killed your mother. They never could get back to the friendship they once had.”
“Dad went to his funeral.”
“Yes. Dad, Mom, and myself. It’s too bad Gramps wouldn’t go. For some reason, he got worse after Ed’s death. More bitter. It’s eating him up.” Mike eased the truck through a rut running crosswise in the road. “We tried to talk sense into him, but he won’t listen to Dad or me. Just gets mad. Mom tried once. That’s when he had his first heart attack.”
“I remember. It was just before I left for college. But I’m so like Grandmother Anna, I thought staying away would help him forget.”
“It didn’t turn out that way. He just focused his loss on the Traherns instead...as if they were the cause of all his grief. You’ve got to talk to him, Jo. He’ll listen to you.”
She nodded thoughtfully. Of those in her family, she was the only one who could reach Gramps. Now that she knew why he continued to blame Adam, she might be able to find a way to overcome that. She had to succeed. She just had to. Her decision became clearer.
A family of raccoons crossed in front of them, a mama and two babies, their eyes deep red marbles in the headlights, their beautiful fur coats rippling as they moved.
Mike slowed down, careful not to throw Paca off her feet.
“Aren’t they lovely,” Jo exclaimed, sitting forward to see better. Beautiful. More so because they weren’t in a zoo and no one controlled them. Free. As she would like to be, unburdened with Karen’s problems, Grampa’s feelings, and her own vacillating emotions.
By the time they arrived at the gate the first pale light of dawn was streaking the sky.
Johnny waited astride a long-legged Appaloosa gelding that had a small smattering of spots across an otherwise dark brown coat. He looked the picture of a typical movie cowboy, with brightly checked red shirt, tan hat and blue jeans. No wonder he had captured her sister’s heart if he met her out riding looking like that. Yet he still wasn’t as handsome as Adam.
There was a worried, desperate expression in Johnny’s eyes that reminded Jo of Karen’s. He was as anxious as her sister, his face frozen in uncertainty. She had to talk to Adam.
“Well?” Johnny pleaded as she opened the gate to let Mike drive through.
“Like I told Karen, I’ll talk—”
“Yo!” Before she could say more, Johnny sprang from the saddle, spun her around in a circle and set her back down. “G’morning, Mike,” he shouted, keeping one arm around Jo, holding her against his lanky frame as he spoke.
“Hello to you.” Mike answered, puzzled. “What gives?”
“Jo’s going to fix everything up for me and Karen,” he declared, exuberantly. “Aren’t you, Jo?”
“How’s that?” Mike asked, looking skeptical.
“Simple.” Johnny answered for her. “Jo’s going to shoot down all opposition—namely Grampa—so that true love—Karen’s and mine—will win.” He smiled widely, blue eyes dancing.
Johnny was jumping the gun. “Well, you see—” Jo stammered, “I—”
“She and Adam are going to get engaged, that’s how,” Johnny interrupted. “Once that’s done, Karen and I will be accepted right off.”
“Now wait a minute, cowboy,” Jo protested. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with Adam yet.”
“I have. He’s all for it.”
Jo cast a rueful glance at Mike, who had suddenly taken this time to carefully study the morning star as it shone brightly in the pale sky. He looked back at her with amused understanding. “Oh,” he said, letting his voice rise and fall thoughtfully as if suddenly enlightened.
“Oh...what?” Jo demanded, suspicious of his Cheshire cat grin.
“Just that this could get interesting.” He nodded his head wisely. “Very interesting. You and Adam, eh? That brings up all sorts of possibilities.” He rubbed his hands together in gleeful anticipation. “Uh huh. Who thought this up? Adam?”
“No. Karen did. Actually, she said I did, but I hadn’t meant it that way...I mean....” Jo threw up her hands.
“Let’s get shoving,” Johnny said. “You can work it out later. I have to do the milking, so if you want my help....”
“We’re coming.”
Once in the timber, Mike started singing, and the others joined his rich tenor: “‘Oh, what a beautiful morning....’”
Jo breathed deeply of the pine-scented air, enjoying the ever-changing scene as the morning light brightened. Ground squirrels sat next to their burrows, more curious than afraid and a fat porcupine reluctantly left the trail as the three came singing through, the creak of saddle leather adding music of its own. It was a beautiful day.
Jo felt her spirits lift as they always did when she entered the mountain trails. By now she was wide-awake and refreshed, ready to take on anything, even Adam.
As if on schedule the birds began their early morning music session, twittering and chirping. The three stopped singing, to listen as they rode along.
They reached the fence around four-twenty. Adam stopped working and leaned on the posthole digger as they pulled up and swung down. His dog, a Queensland blue-heeler, stood nearby, ears pricked, alert and eager to work.
Adam was wearing old Levi’s and boots, with a blue and black plaid shirt and jeans vest. Heavy leather gloves stuck out one back pocket and the brown Stetson again covered his jet-black hair.
“Morning, Jo, Mike. Good to see you again,” he added to Mike, clapping him on the shoulder. The softly spoken words of friendship stirred a longing deep within Jo to hear him speak thus to her. Would he? Ever?
Jo scanned his handsome, deeply tanned face and felt a jolt go through her—like running into an electric fence. She caught her breath. Nobody had any right to look so striking.
He was as smooth and powerful as a stag, vibrant with good health, alive with energy. And if she had problems with her breathing when she was this far away from him, then she was in deep trouble if they decided to go through with a mock engagement. She’d lose her heart, while Adam would stay untouched. Somehow she
had to avoid committing herself.
“Johnny,” Adam directed, “drop those posts in the holes I’ve dug so far and tamp them in.” He turned to Mike. “We’re going to have to build a couple of free-standing posts for this stretch. The ground is solid rock.”
He led Mike over to look at where he had gathered some broken poles they could use to build the bottom of a pyramidal type post.
“Next time call before you put your bull in that pasture and I’ll yank mine out,” Adam said.
“I thought you said you were moving him Friday.”
“Next Friday.”
“Next? But you told me on Thursday.”
“That would’ve been this Friday.”
“You’re right. I’ll call next time.” They both laughed.
Adam turned to Jo, his eyes still dancing. “Bring the tool sack, would you?”
The request pulled Jo out of her state of shock and she hurried over carrying the gunnysack of tools.
Maybe she was prejudiced against Adam. She had unquestionably assigned the fault for the bulls to him. Had she misjudged him in other ways?
She handed him the sack. He took it, then caught her hand before she could withdraw, turning it over to check the scratches from last night.
“How do they feel?” he asked, looking at them, and she hoped he didn’t notice her pulse racing under the sudden contact.
“Fine. Not any worse than a day of Loganberry picking.”
He grinned. “Still do that?”
“Sure.”
She stepped back and he released her, jiggling the sack in his other hand.
“Up to riding?”
“Of course.”
He smiled, jigged the sack again as if going to say more, then nodded and turned to his work.
Jo sat on a stump near Adam’s dog and watched as the two men set to work building an open pyramid out of three poles, with a solid board bottom, to act as a fence post. The bulls had failed to destroy several of the existing posts of this kind and Adam had already repositioned them.
The men moved in harmony with little wasted motion. All three were athletic and well-built, with the broad shoulders and narrow hips of horsemen. They handled the heavy posts with ease, moving with a grace and strength Jo admired.