Her Happy Ever After

by Lucy Evanson

  She let herself have one more minute, however. Among all the men she finally spotted David, there in the thick of it, a dark stripe running down the back of his shirt to gauge the work he’d done. By chance he paused to wipe his brow and glanced toward the house, then waved to her.

  Melanie waved back, although she didn’t let her gaze linger on him. The past few days had been strange between them. David’s speech, his behavior, and even the way he carried himself had been strained. She was surely no different. It was like they each were taking pains to make it look like nothing had happened, like she had shared neither her heart nor a kiss with him. She still somewhat regretted opening up to him as she had. The kiss, she didn’t regret at all.

  It wasn’t until she turned to go back inside that she realized that she wasn’t alone here with the women. They had filled a barrel with fresh water that morning, and there was a man there drinking from the ladle. Melanie didn’t believe she’d met him yet, but he smiled so broadly at her that she doubted herself for a second.

  “So you made it through the storm all right? You weren’t injured at all, I hope?”

  “No, thank God,” she said. “We all got through unhurt.”

  “That’s good to hear.” He replaced the ladle in the barrel and came around to her, his hand outstretched. “I don’t think we’ve met,” he said. “I’m Matt Tremayne. I’m a friend of Dave’s.”

  “Melanie,” she said. “Melanie White.” His hand was warm on hers, and his smile was so bright that it brought out hers as well. He was a nice-looking man. Skinny, perhaps, but nice-looking; he had dark brown hair and eyes, matching her own, and dimples in his cheeks.

  “White,” he repeated, cocking his head to the side. “Are you related to Polly, then?”

  “I’m her niece. I’m just down from Peshtigo, visiting for a while.”

  “Well, we have something in common,” he said. “I’m not from here either. Not anymore, anyway. I live in Minneapolis,” he said.

  “That’s kind of far away, isn’t it? What brings you back here?”

  “Business,” he said. “And my folks are still here, so I come back pretty often.”

  “That’s nice that you think of your parents,” Melanie said. She couldn’t resist taking another look toward the work site, where David and another man were guiding a truss into place. “I happen to know one or two men your age who don’t really care about family.”

  “Nothing’s more important,” Matt said. He turned to survey the barn. “I suppose your husband must be anxious for you to get back home.”

  “He probably would be, if I had one.”

  He turned back to face her. “I’m sorry,” he said, though his eyes had lit up with something that didn’t look much like regret. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  “What’s this I hear about you intruding, Matt?”

  They turned to see Polly approaching with her bowl of mashed potatoes. A wooden spoon rose from the middle, where she’d stuck it like a tentpole.

  “How have you been, Polly?”

  “Can’t complain,” she said as she set the bowl on the table. “But don’t you think you should be out there working instead of over here flirting with the ladies?”

  “I’m not flirting with the ladies,” he protested. “I’m only flirting with this one.”

  “Well, that’s enough, regardless,” Polly said. “If you keep bothering her, we’ll never get lunch set up.”

  “It’s no bother,” Melanie said. “He’s been a real gentleman.”

  “Hmph.” Polly’s eyes narrowed as she glanced from Melanie to Matt. “They could use your help out there, I’m sure.”

  “I’m on my way,” he said. “And by the way, everything looks great. But I don’t see any pasty out here.”

  From the expression that exploded on her aunt’s face, Melanie was sure that if Polly had been a little bit closer, or her spoon had been a little bit longer, Matt would have gotten whacked. “Do you see how many men are out there? You think we had time to sit around making pasties for everybody these last few days?”

  Matt slowly shook his head as if disappointed, though his grin remained unchanged. “If there’s no pasty, then I’m not staying for lunch.”

  “You Cornish are all the same,” Polly grumbled as she headed back to the house. Just before she stepped inside, she rang the dinner bell hard, and Melanie watched as the men began en masse toward the food. David was there in the middle of them all, shaking hands and clapping shoulders as he shepherded the crowd along.

  “I’m sure David appreciates you coming out to help.”

  “It almost didn’t happen. I was supposed to be in town last week, but my trip was delayed,” Matt said. “So here I am today.”

  “Here you are.”

  “You know, it’s almost like it was meant to happen. Fate, they call it.”

  “Is that what you call it too, Mr. Tremayne?”

  He smiled. “I call it a broken-down train,” he said. “But as to why it broke down then and there, I couldn’t say. And call me Matt.”

  The din of the construction had died out, but it was being quickly replaced by the buzz of conversation as the group arrived and men began to make their plates. There was a bit of empty space on the closest table, however. “Well, I guess I should go help Polly,” Melanie said. “We still have a lot to bring out.”

  “It was nice to meet you, Miss White,” Matt said. He reached into his vest pocket, removed a small leather folder and took out a calling card.

  “You too,” she said, as he handed it to her. “You really aren’t staying for lunch?”

  “I have to catch the afternoon train, unfortunately. Business calls,” he said, again extending his hand. “But if you ever make it up Minneapolis way, I’d be delighted to see you again, Miss White.” He quickly bowed to kiss her hand.

  Melanie felt her cheeks heat up at the touch of his lips on her skin, and Matt’s grin was echoed in the smile that spread across her own face. “I’d like that,” she said. “And call me Melanie.”

  “Have a good afternoon, Melanie.” Without another word, he squeezed her hand and then was on his way, heading for the paddock and his horse. He cut a fine figure as he easily climbed into the saddle, and he waved to her as he started for the trail. She waved back before he turned his attention to the road.

  “I see you met Matt.”

  Melanie turned around to find David coming up behind her, but then her gaze returned to Matt. She watched him until he topped the hill, well on his way back to town. “Yes, I did,” she said. “He seems like a very nice man.”

  “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”

  “He’s a bachelor?”

  David chuckled. “Not for lack of trying,” he said. “He’s just picky about women.” He glanced toward the trail, but Matt had already disappeared. “Why do you ask?”

  Melanie turned back toward the house. “I’d better get in there,” she said. “Polly needs some help, I’m sure.” She left David there with a furrowed brow, still looking to the trail, in search of an answer that was long gone.

  ~ ~ ~

  “A little bit more!”

  The man at the top of the ladder strained to reach out higher, but the bough simply wasn’t long enough. There was another man above, sitting on the roof beam. The pine needles probably tickled his fingers, but they weren’t close enough for him to grasp. Finally the man scooted back, tucked his legs under the beam for support, and threw himself forward. For a moment it looked like he was about to pitch headlong off the roof, but he was obviously comfortable with this sort of thing: he swooped down to grab the branch, and with one wide swipe of his arm, held it aloft like a flag of victory.

  The men applauded and cheered as the bough was nailed to the roof beam, topping out the barn. Most of the work had been done; the sun was well on its way down now, and what had started out this morning as a hole in the ground was now recognizably a barn. A big one, in fact. Since the highest beams were now in place, th
e rest would go more easily: they had to finish the walls and the roof, but that would be over relatively quickly. The rest of it—the painting, spacing off the stalls inside and all the finish work—David and his crew would do themselves over the next few days. The hard part—the part that would have been impossible without the help of the community—was over, and there was one thing that called for. A drink.

  David climbed atop an overturned box near the barn door and looked out at the crowd. Nearly everybody had assembled to watch the topping out, and it was really something to see so many people gathered all together in one spot. Gathered all together to help him out. “I want to thank all of you guys,” he called. “This week has had ups and downs for us, just like for a lot of you out there.”

  Many of the men in the crowd nodded. This was only the first of four barns that they were going to be building over the next couple of weeks. The tornado had spared all of the citizens of Mineral Point, and had skipped over most of the homes, but hadn’t been so kind to the barns.

  “So I’ll be seeing you all again to help you out and thank you for what you’ve done,” David said. “But in the meantime, I want you all to have a drink on me. Boys?” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bottle of Old Crow; the ranch hands scattered through the crowd had been similarly equipped and did the same. There was a wave of applause as the bottles were cracked open and passed around. “Now let’s finish this thing so you can go home!”

  David remained atop the box for a minute, watching his friends and neighbors as they mingled. These were men that he’d known all his life. Some were friends of his father, but many were closer to David’s age and friends of his. As he looked around, he remembered the many women who had come to help out today as well; they were also in the crowd, talking with their husbands. There were even children out there; now that he thought about it, he had seen several kids going around with burlap sacks, picking up trash that his own men hadn’t gotten to yet.

  It hadn’t been just the men from the surrounding farms who had come to his aid today. It had been whole families. Everybody’s family but my own. David opened the bottle of Crow and took a long drink, but it did nothing to ease the bitterness that he was suddenly tasting.

  A woman’s voice drew his attention. “This is some barn you all put up, David. Even bigger than the old one, if I’m not mistaken.”

  David looked down. Sam and his wife had appeared out of the crowd, and he stepped down to greet them. “Yeah, it’s a bit taller,” he said. “How have you been, Kate?”

  “I’m well, thank you,” she said. “I understand you were injured in the storm?”

  David turned his head to better show off the black-and-blue mess near his temple. It was largely concealed by his hair, but what was showing was bad enough. “It looks worse than it is,” he said.

  Kate sucked in a breath. “Oh my gosh,” she said. “You’re lucky you got away with just a bruise.”

  “Good thing there’s nothing inside there to get hurt,” Sam said, earning a punch on each shoulder from both David and Kate. “Dave knows I’m only kidding, honey,” he said, rubbing his arm as he gazed at his wife. “You’ve got a good arm there, though,” Sam added, then turned to David. “Yours, I hardly felt.”

  David laughed, in spite of himself. “Thanks for coming out to help, Sam. And you too, Kate,” he said.

  “It’s our pleasure,” Kate said. “How is Polly doing? I heard she fell ill.”

  “She’s better,” David said. He looked toward the house and caught Melanie’s eye, waving her over. “Have you met Polly’s niece? This is Melanie.”

  Melanie shook hands with each of them. “Were you the one who brought the rhubarb pie? I tried some of that; it was wonderful.”

  “I can’t take all the credit,” Kate said. “It’s a friend’s recipe, but I’m happy you liked it.”

  It was strange to watch the three of them talking. Just standing there opposite Sam and Kate, it felt like he and Melanie should have had some bond between them, just to even things out. Kate stood with her arm in Sam’s, not clinging, but rather supporting him; David and Melanie stood side by side, but carefully distant. Any bond between them had been brief, and would not appear again. He had made damn well sure of that.

  “Well, I should be going,” Kate said, pulling David out of his thoughts. “It’s supposed to be the nanny’s day off.”

  “It was good to meet you,” Melanie said. “I should get back to the kitchen anyway. We’ve got a lot to clean up, still.”

  “And we’ve got a barn to finish,” Sam said. “I’ll see you later.” He kissed his wife and the men watched as the women went their separate ways. “Well, should we get back to it?”

  “You go ahead,” David said. “I’ll be right there.”

  Sam nodded and made for the rear of the barn, where a broad empty space awaited its wall.

  David looked down at the bottle of Old Crow that he still held in his hand. He had made a special trip into town yesterday, just to make sure that he had enough to pass around during the topping out, and here he was, hanging on to it himself. David took a long drink before he finally surrendered it to the nearest man in the crowd. It was all right. He had another bottle in the house.

  Chapter 13

  As the evening grew darker, so did his mood. On the outside, there wasn’t much reason for it. Any other man would have been over the moon at the end of a day like this. It was quite a thing, waking up with the worksite scrubbed down to its foundation, and going to bed with a brand new barn in its place. Any other man would have been pleased to see so many of his neighbors come to help him out. The fact that David realized that any other man would have been happy in his place—and yet he was not—wasn’t helping things.

  So many friends. So many families. David reached for the bottle of whiskey which was sitting on the porch beside him. More properly, it was a half-bottle now; ever since the work had finished and everybody had gone home, he had been sitting on the porch alone, looking at his new barn and nursing the bottle. Polly and Melanie were too busy cleaning up to notice his ill humor, which suited him fine. Don’t want to talk to either of them anyway, he thought. Let them talk to each other. That’s what kin is for.

  All the long afternoon, he managed to hide his growing anger like a lid atop a boiling pot, thanking his friends and their wives through gritted teeth, tousling the hair of their children with acid rolling in his stomach. David put on a show until the last man was gone, but the ache was there in the back of his mind, hidden from view but sore as hell, just like the bruise under his hair.

  He took a drink. Is this how things are going to be? Surrounded by families all around and none of my own? It was times like this when he had to remind himself that things were precisely the way he wanted them to be. He was a man free to do whatever he liked. He was beholden to nobody. He was entirely unrestricted, completely unburdened, and one hundred percent independent.

  A voice whispered to him in the back of his mind. That’s just another way to say you’re all alone.

  His stomach clenched up, like that of a man who realized he’d just misstepped. Twenty-seven years old and not married. And no prospects either. Not anymore, anyway. It was enough to send a drop of sweat down his spine. Hell of a thing when you can see your own future and it looks like Barney. And even he’s working on getting a woman. He took another long drink. The worst of it wasn’t that it was his own fault, however. It was that couldn’t afford the luxury of blaming somebody else. He knew it was his own fault. It was one thing to be bitter, but another thing to recognize that ugliness in yourself.

  David rubbed his eyes and looked out at his property. The barn was up, it was big and solid, and the ranch was better for it. That much was good, at least. But if he was looking for something as solid in his own life, he was out of luck. He didn’t even have a foundation.

  “You’re still out here?”

  He snorted. “Looks like.”

  Melanie stepped t
o the porch rail and looked out at the barn. The new wood was pale, almost glowing in the dying light of the evening. “Well, everybody did a heck of a job today,” she said. “I never get tired of seeing barns go up. Makes me feel good about the world.”

  David remained quiet, aside from letting out a slurp as he took another drink.

  “You know, what with everybody coming together to help out whoever needs it,” she continued. “It’s just nice.” She turned to look at him. “Don’t you think?”

  He shrugged. “Guess so,” he said as he returned the bottle to the porch floor.

  “Is something wrong?”

  He stared at her. She was as pretty as ever; the liquor hadn’t affected his vision yet, at least. And she was looking at him with such concern in her eyes, it was almost like she cared for him. “Nothing you need to be worried about,” he finally grumbled.

  She smiled, though worry remained in her gaze. “You know, if there’s something bothering you, I’d be happy to talk.”

  “No thanks.” There was an edge in his voice now.

  “I’m just trying to help—”

  “Who said I need your help?” he barked. He stood up fast, accidentally kicking over his whiskey bottle and sending a flood of liquor across the porch. “Don’t you get it? I don’t need anybody. Especially you. Not now, not ever!”

  Melanie’s jaw dropped open slightly, and she blinked just as if she’d been stunned by a slap across the face. Even in the dim light, he could see that her cheeks picked up a bit of color. “I’ll leave you alone, then,” she finally managed to say. “I can see that’s what you really want.”

  He didn’t watch her go until he heard the door hit the jamb; when he turned his head, she was already gone, of course. His whiskey was nearly gone, too. David picked up the bottle and stared at it; there was one swallow left, and after that, he really was all alone.

  ~ ~ ~

  “I’m leaving,” Melanie said as she looked out the window. The dawn was still some time away, and stars yet hung brightly in the sky. “This morning, in fact.”