by Jade Cary
“Yes. I had no idea you weren’t the one sending them.”
“I would have had I known.” I sat for a long time trying to piece together the mess I’d made simply by not opening a few letters. Stubborn! “The idea that you both believed I could be so callous, so self-absorbed, that I didn’t even care about him, or about the two of you sharing a child, is killing me.”
Maria stared at the vast landscape in front of her and said nothing for a long time. “The fault was partially mine,” she finally said. “Your father sent you away, against my wishes, because he did not want a young girl just coming into her own to be touched by scandal. He…we knew we could handle it. None of that mattered to us, and the truth was, your father’s reputation in this valley was untouchable. Ours was not some immoral affair between the rich rancher and the maid. But I was married, and Ramon was still alive when I got pregnant. As conservative a world as we live in here, even that didn’t hurt us very much. Nothing much would touch your father. But he worried for me, and for you.”
“So he sent me away.”
“Yes. He wanted to send me away, too, until things died down, not because he was ashamed of us, or embarrassed. He feared for my reputation. I didn’t care. Eventually, he didn’t either. We settled into raising our son and running a ranch.”
“And the less I kept in touch, the less important what I might have known or not known became.”
“Yes. I suppose. Chandler, your father was not emotionally equipped to work out the reasons for your hurt and then try to smooth them over. He had a different upbringing. His father did not have time for feelings or emotional connections. Had your mother lived, perhaps it would have been different. Had I been a bit stronger with Charles, put my foot down about you more often, perhaps things would have been different.” She took a long pull on her drink. “I could have reached out to you, but I didn’t. God knows there’s enough blame to go around here.”
“I’d pulled so far away from the family by the time I entered college I didn’t provide the slightest opening for any contact. I understand my part in this all too well,” I said. The margaritas were strong, but it was what we needed. “Maria, can you ever forgive me?”
“Oh, darling.” Tears welled in her dark eyes and she grasped my hand tight. “There is nothing to forgive.”
“I’m here now. I want to make things right.” I tucked my leg up under me and sat back, sipping a perfect mix of sweet and lime, with just a touch too much Milagro Silver. “Please tell me how it all started—with you and Daddy.”
“Uno momento.” She took a large, fortifying sip of her drink, then settled in, her pose matching mine. “Ramon and I came to work for your father about a year after your mother died.”
“You’re smiling,” I said. “You like telling this story.”
Her wide smile was her only response. “Your father had a ranch to care for and a little girl he had no idea what to do with. Now, this did not mean he did not love you, Chandler. He did. He loved you to his very soul. But he believed he couldn’t just throw a little girl at the land and expect it to be in her veins.”
“Like he could a boy.”
“He was old fashioned. Your mother softened him to a daughter, and had she lived Charles would have become a skilled, gracious father who was not afraid to raise and nurture a rancher. By the time Ramon and I came along, you were a rambunctious four-year-old who knew the land better than he did in some ways, and he wondered what the hell happened to his princess. Brambles in your hair, skinned knees, horse shit in your shoes—and quite a sassy mouth, thanks to the ranch hands, who doted on you like you belonged collectively to all of them. Ramon settled the ranch, and I settled you. Your father and I fell in love slowly. It wasn’t instant and it was not easy, but it was passionate.”
“I can’t see Daddy passionate.”
“Oh, my darling…” Maria took another drag on her margarita.
I put my hands over my ears. “Please.”
“Let me tell you something: my marriage to Ramon was quite comfortable, but it was far from passionate. Once I tasted passion…well, as you know, women need it, and without it we wilt.” She took a sip of her drink. “He was, and always will be, my one great love.”
Tears filled my eyes and I tried to hide it with a swig of my own.
“So, Charles and I came to each other over time. We raised you like you were ours, and I did it under Ramon’s nose. Ramon and I never had children. I did not think it was possible. Perhaps it simply wasn’t possible with him. I was thirty-five when I had Carlos. This was my house during the day, and at night I went home to the Ranch Manager’s house with my husband.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. You should have just had what you wanted.”
“Mija, sometimes you can’t have what you want. There are other responsibilities that take priority. I am not proud of how we conducted ourselves. Ramon didn’t deserve my duplicity, but you cannot help who you love, and I’m through beating myself up over it. I married Ramon under a different set of rules, and I saw it for what it was. He did not, understandably so. He’s a man. Daddy wanted to go speak to Ramon so many times, but I was afraid. Charles didn’t care. He was willing to take his licks to have me properly, but I wouldn’t let him do it. Truth was, I didn’t want the stress. Things were working fine the way they were. I know.” She held up her hand. “I know what a poor decision that was.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Anyway, Ramon did find out, and not in the way we wanted him to. He quit the ranch, insisted I go with him. By that time I knew I was pregnant, and I did not tell your father.”
“He sent me to Atlanta after Ramon found out about you two?”
“Yes. He did not want you here for that.”
“Unbelievable.”
“Darling, I know. But he did what he had to do, and it’s done, Chandler. Understand his reasons, and let it go.”
“All right. All right, I’m starting to, but my lord how the man complicated things.”
“Different time. Anyway, I went with Ramon. I told Charles that it was just until I could reconcile him to the reality of the situation. One night I was coming back from the ranch—we had a place in town and Ramon was working at The Hollow O Ranch…”
“The Holland place. Tabitha and her brother, Dane, were friends of mine.”
“Yes. Anyway, I was coming home from seeing your father and I was about a mile from the highway when I saw headlights coming toward me. The last thing I remember is waking up in the hospital. That is how your father found out I was pregnant.”
“Oh, Madrina…”
“It was Ramon who ran me off the road. I broke my leg, had some internal damage. But the baby…he was all right. He was fine. The doctors said it was a miracle.” Tears welled in Maria’s eyes. “When he was born, Daddy and I knew differently.”
“What happened?”
“Carlos had a stroke, mija.”
“Oh, my God. In the womb?”
“Yes. They cannot say if it was caused by the accident or if it was something else. Bottom line, it happened. The so-called experts said he would not walk or speak or feed himself, yet look at him.” Her smile was full of pride. So was mine. “He has been diagnosed with Aspergers and some information processing issues. He moves slow, and he has trouble with short-term memory. He has trouble with his emotions and with certain social interactions. He attends regular classes and he gets tutoring outside of school. Just lately he has pulled more inside himself, and I’m wondering if it’s puberty.” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
I focused on the two figures in the paddock; Carlos and Collin had their heads together, and Collin was showing him the proper way to hold a rope. “He’s a survivor, and so are you.”
“Yes. I suppose that’s true.”
I got up and made another pitcher of margaritas. I filled her glass again, and my own. “What did Daddy do when he found out Ramon ran you off the road?”
She shrugged an
d raised her eyebrows. “He was out of his mind…of course.” Salt dotted Maria’s mouth as she set her glass down. She slid her tongue out and tasted the last of it, then shook her head. “Dios, the man had a hard head, and a stubborn streak that makes the wild asses roaming the hills behind us as amiable as infants.”
I chuckled. “Reminds me of another man we both know.”
“Yes, well. Discussing that one is for another day, but I see what I see.”
“Yeah. I’m in trouble with him, Maria. I mean…we’re fine now.”
“What happened?”
“I…I slapped him.” I sighed “Too much emotion and not enough time for reconciliation. I took it out on him.”
“I am sorry, Chandler. None of this has been easy on you.”
“Yes, well, it’s time I got over that.”
“Mija, work it out with Jed.”
“We’re okay now, I think.” My right butt cheek seized.
“You were meant to be together.”
I laughed. “You’re getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you?”
“If your father were standing here now, he’d swear on both his children that he sent you away because of our situation, but I believe he did it in part because of Jed.”
“What?”
“You were growing into a beautiful young woman, Chandler, and your father couldn’t miss the eyes on you at every opportunity. He could fire the men for ogling, but he couldn’t bear the idea of taking a bullwhip to Jed for compromising you.”
“Jed would have never compromised me, ever—not that I didn’t fantasize about it.” We both laughed. “Seriously, Dad was worried about Jed?”
“Jed was a man—a good man, but a man. He knew you and Jed were close, and it was too much for him. I think there were a host of reasons why he sent you away—none of them good, to my way of thinking.”
“Thank you. I agree.” I took her hand. “Come back home.”
“Jed’s going over the will after the funeral tomorrow, yes?”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“We have some things to discuss. You leave Sunday?”
“Yes.”
“Stay a while longer. Please, Chandler. Stay and get to know your brother. I love him so much and I want you to love him, too.”
“I do. I do already. He’s my brother, Maria. I’ll stay a while longer, of course. But get yourself home. I don’t want to be in this big house alone.”
“Stay a little longer and Carlos and I will come home after the funeral tomorrow.”
“All right. I will. I’ll change my flight.”
Maria smiled and drained her glass. “Good. Hit me again.”
Not a little girl anymore
The barn was warm with the day’s sun, but the fall night cooled it quickly. The loft was spotless at Dad’s insistence. A clean environment kept the varmints away, Charles believed, and he was right. Someone had been up here recently, for the loft floor had been swept clean. Fragrant hay sat in neatly stacked bales in one corner of the massive space. I untied a bale and spread it around. As a child, it was here I felt my best; it was a place for contemplative thought, a place where I could work through my demons and find my angels again, it was a place where I could pout.
Jed had work to do, and shut himself up in Dad’s office. After Maria left for town, I changed into a pair of my softest and most faded button-flies and a plain white cotton shirt. I grabbed my computer and headed for the barn.
It was dark and cool as the sun set behind the mountain. The day had given me much to process. Having to deal with how Dad looked before presenting him to the only world he knew had been unexpected, then learning who Carlos was had me reeling still. A blanket lay over the railing of the loft, and I pulled it off and spread it down on the layer of hay. I sat and leaned my back against the planked wall, opened the laptop, and went to my emails.
Sweetheart,
Well, your daddy has gone and done it. Blame Jed. He went with me, told me what to buy. I did as ordered, and now I’m trying things out with the mangy boy looking over my shoulder. It’s a big thing, this computer--takes up most of my desk space, but Jed assures me that I will grow to love it like a trusted friend one day. I doubt it.
Now that he’s not hovering, I’ll stop complaining about him and get to lighter subject matter. The July harvest went well, although we were a little short-handed. We managed, though, as we always do. Drought’s been hard on the valley as a whole, so our yield was not as great as some years past. I hired the McKinney boy for the summer, as he’s set on graduating MSU next year and could use the money. His daddy is not doing well, and you may not know this, but they lost Katherine last winter. The boy was always close to his mama, so he has taken the loss hard. Sorry to share bad news, but you might want to reach out, since you’ve known Ryder all your life. I’ve hunted-and-pecked enough for now. Would love to hear from you. I have much to share.
Daddy
The next one, from March:
Chandler,
We had a wicked winter, and the mountains are still heavily capped. The Madison is running fat and muddy and the freezer is stocked with elk and half a bear I’m sharing with Len Dawson out by Jeffers. Sure wish you’d come for a few days. The wildlife are overrunning the place and they’re thinking of a spring hunting season. I’ve got my eye on an eight-point buck that keeps wandering onto the north forty to feed. If we get ourselves a few weeks to hunt this spring, I’ll get after him. Had some trouble here a while ago, lost the damn bunkhouse. Ah well.
Come for the harvest, Chan. Help me eat some backstrap.
Pops
No, ‘We’re fine’ or “Carlos got the ‘Best Speller’ ribbon in school, or ‘Look for his school picture in the mail’. Email would have been the perfect place to bring things up, but I imagined by the time he got the computer, got used to it, nothing more than typical day-to-day needed to be reported. After all, he’d sent letters. Gah! He was the father of two, not one, when he sent these emails to me, urging me home.
It was, however, the second mention by him of trouble, and I was counting Collin’s mention of the same as he handed me the keys to my car yesterday.
I shifted on the blanket, uneasy about something, and as the memory of the afternoon resurfaced like a bad song that wouldn’t leave my head, I put it to that. Jed Brooks had spanked me, and he had done so quite thoroughly. It was a no-holds-barred licking that left me breathless, embarrassed and, I was loath to admit, a little…I didn’t know what. I should be seething; I should hate him, but I didn’t. I was mature and worldly enough to see it for what it was, understanding this part of the world and the men who occupied it, and knowing, based on the last few days, that Jed taking that kind of control was about more than a slap in the face in a fit of temper. I appreciated a man with conviction enough to retaliate in a way best described as old fashioned when a woman up and slapped his face, but I also got that it was about much more. I felt the arousal such an intimate act as taking a woman over the lap evoked, both with him and in me. That he still liked me—and I liked him—was a bonus.
I eased down onto my back, the blanket serving as a soft surface on top of the sweet hay. I chewed on a piece of straw as I contemplated the next couple of days. I would bury Charles tomorrow, and Jed and I would go over the will. I would change my flight, as I promised Maria I’d do. My feelings had been all over the map from the moment I arrived: I loved the ranch, I hated the ranch, I hated Charles, I understood Charles, I kissed Jed, I…
Jed. Yes, him. He’d kissed me, he’d spanked me, he’d kissed me…and I had surely kissed him right back. He told me he wanted me, and I damn well wanted him. What the hell was I going to do about that, now? I rolled over on my tummy and placed my hand on my ass. He’d spanked with abandon; that was true enough. That he was so…amiable after left little room for the anger to grow, for the resentment to fester. I was sorry as hell I slapped him. What I got in return was nothing by comparison. He was the only man who had ever cared eno
ugh to correct me, from the beginning. He hadn’t failed me this time, either, damn the man. Admitting I needed a bit of occasional correcting in the first place was the hurdle I faced now—and forever, I suppose, if things were to proceed between us.
“A bit premature, don’t you think?” I said aloud. After all, he’d told me he wanted me after kissing hell out of me, yet didn’t all men say that after kissing hell out of a woman? He was all man, and he had needs. So do I, by the way, I reminded myself. Yet, was Jed Brooks—who taught me how to rope a calf when I was seven, taught me how to shoot a .22 when I was nine—a man to be played with, and then left, after all we were to each other? I could not picture him allowing such an idea. He’d want a relationship, marriage, children…
“Dear God,” I muttered. I was over thinking this, really. I needed to get through tomorrow, then by Sunday I’d be gone from here, from Jed, from the memories and, hopefully, from the anger.
I turned over on my back and listened to an owl hoot outside. I heard the horses whinny in the stables, and another’s hooves on the ground outside, being coaxed into a trot.
“You seen Chandler?” Jed. The answer came muffled through the thick walls. I sat up and listened. “Chandler?” he called. “Chan!” I’d hidden from him countless times as a little girl. Still, this was always the last place he looked, it seemed. My heart quickened and that nervous, not-terribly-unpleasant sensation settled low in my belly. It was a familiar feeling, one I understood now, but didn’t as a child. All I knew was that the feeling was intoxicating and exciting and forbidden, and he filled my dreams. He was looking for me. He wanted me. I wiped the wet from my face. “In here, Jed,” I called. “I’m in here.”
Jed chewed on his own piece of hay and twirled a few loose tendrils of my hair around his finger. I lay on my side with my head in his lap, the light from a standard lantern, the LED turned down dim, casting a calm glow around the loft. I’d told him about the stash of unopened letters I’d kept, just to prove I didn’t need to read them. I was…fine, after all. Didn’t need my dad, didn’t need family.