by Lisa Emme
“Aunt Elaine,” she whispered. “I’m here.”
“Oh Allie.” Her aunt sat up in her chair. She reached out to clasp Allie’s hands. “Are you all right, dear?”
“Me? I’m fine.” She squeezed her aunt’s hands. “How are you? And how is Uncle Russ?”
Her aunt smiled. “He’s going to be fine dear. Just fine.” She patted Allie’s hand. “It was just a small clot and they were able to give him the medicine he needed to dissolve it in time. A change in diet and he’ll be right as rain in no time.”
“Oh, thank God.” Allie reached down and hugged her aunt, relieved at the news. She stood up and pointed to Mike. “We brought you some clothes, if you want to change.” Mike held up the duffle bag in his hand.
“Thank you, Allie. What would we do without you?”
***
“Godammit all to hell!” Rowdy stood behind the ranch office and cursed. He looked at the row of red ATVs parked there and raked a hand through his hair. The units were all identical, except for the last one on the end with the broken tail light.
With another curse, he whipped his cell phone off his holster and punched in a couple numbers. “It’s me,” he growled into the phone. “I don’t care what the fuck time it is. Get your ass down to the office now.” He ended the call with a jam of his finger and stalked back into the office.
***
When Seth arrived, Rowdy’s mood had simmered to a slow burn. He watched Seth enter his office looking rather the worse for wear. Was it because Rowdy had woken him up so early, or because he had gotten in so late?
“You were at the Roberts’ farm last night,” Rowdy stated matter-of-factly. “Who was with you?”
“I…” Seth started to deny it but Rowdy cut him off. “One of the ATVs has a broken tail light. My cousin’s a good shot with a pellet gun.”
“It wasn’t me.” Seth grimaced. “Maybe it was…well it was my boys. They tend to get a bit carried away sometimes.”
“Carried away? Carried away!” Rowdy’s voiced ended in a shout. “They almost burned down the fucking house with my cousin’s family in it!” Rowdy pushed himself up from his desk and thumped on it with his fist. “As it is, old man Roberts is on his way to the hospital with heart problems.”
Seth smiled. “There now, see? Maybe it will all work out.”
“Not if the old man dies. Not if the police come here this morning and find that broken light.” Rowdy began pacing beside the desk. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“You said you wanted us to stir up trouble around the farm. To make the old man want to sell.”
“Yeah, stupid little pranks. Inconveniences. No one was supposed to get hurt.” Rowdy stopped pacing and dragged both hands through his hair. “Fuck! That was you, or one of those delinquents you call your sons, in the parking lot that night. Wasn’t it?”
Seth started to stammer an answer, but Rowdy cut him off. “No. You know what? I don’t want to know. Just get your stuff and get the hell out of here. You’re fired.” Rowdy strode back to the desk and wrote out a quick cheque. “Here’s your pay for the week. You can take the ATV with the broken tail light as severance. Just as long as you get it and yourself the hell out of here now.” He threw the cheque at Seth.
“Now wait just a minute,” Seth replied, grabbing the cheque.
“Go, before I change my mind and call the cops.”
***
Duncan woke with a start then dragged himself up out of the chair he had chosen to doze in with a groan. He stood in the middle of the Roberts’ modest living room and stretched, looking at his watch. Six a.m. Years of getting up with the sun had trained his body well. Even now when he was supposed to be retired, he still couldn’t manage to sleep in past six, no matter that he had only been asleep an hour and a half.
He walked over to the stairs and listened. No sounds of life up there yet. Allison, no Allie she preferred to be called, he must try and remember that; Allie had said that Dougie usually woke up around seven, so he probably still had another hour before the wee tyke came downstairs. Duncan smiled as he thought about his young great-grandson. He was a wonderful little boy, so full of life and a child’s innocence, a real little charmer. Not unlike the two little ruffians Randy had brought into the world. Rowdy and Evan had been little charmers too, but they had also been a couple of rascals getting into mischief every chance they got. Duncan frowned. He didn’t really know what Allie had been like as a child.
He sighed and walked across the room to look at the multitude of pictures lined up along the fireplace mantle. Most showed a grown up Allie and her young son at various ages. Duncan chuckled and picked up a small, framed photo of Allie holding what must have been Dougie at only a month or so of age. Would you look at all that dark hair? The lad looked like a little kelpie.
Duncan set the frame down and picked up another picture that had been tucked behind. His heart clenched. Gracie, oh my Gracie. I’m so sorry. He stared at the picture of his long lost daughter. She was posed much as Allie had been, newborn baby in her arms, smiling at the camera. Allie, for the baby in his daughter’s arms must have been her, had a head of hair almost equalling young Dougie’s only lighter in colour. Duncan chuckled sadly. He had missed so much because of his stubborn pride.
His eyes were drawn to another picture. He picked it up, eyes lingering over the small, sad face. It was Allie again. The photographer had caught her unawares as she stood in a field of grass almost as tall as she was. Her long blonde hair blew in the breeze as she looked off sadly in the distance. A child should never look so forlorn. Judging from the picture, Allie must have been six years old or so when the photo was taken, probably just shortly after her parents were killed.
Duncan swallowed back the grief that burned in his chest. He was such an ass, such a stubborn ass. How could he have let the time slip away like that? He hadn’t meant to cut Allie out of his life. He had meant to eventually step up and welcome her into the family. He had just been so angry and hurt when Grace had run off, disobeying him, throwing her life away, or so he thought at the time, on a poor farmer with dreams beyond the farm.
It had stung his pride that his daughter disobeyed his wishes and then all but flaunted her disobedience by getting pregnant almost immediately afterwards. He hadn’t wanted anyone to know his shame, so he had washed his hands of her, telling himself she didn’t matter. He was still young and full of himself then. After all, he was Duncan MacAllister, the most successful cattle baron in the region. A successful ranch and burgeoning cattle auction house; the meat packing plant just getting off the ground; and then Marie, his wife, sick with what they would later find out was cancer; he had more than enough on his plate without worrying about his wayward daughter. She had made her bed and she could just lie in it, he had decided arrogantly at the time.
Duncan grimaced and shook his head. How was he to know that he would never have the chance to mend fences with her? When he learned of the crash that had taken her life, he had been devastated, wracked with guilt and grief. Could he be blamed for not wanting to be reminded of his daughter at first? Young Allie was so much like her mother in appearance; it had been hard to even set eyes on her. Elaine and Russ Roberts, themselves childless, had seemed more than happy to give the girl a home.
Soon a year turned into two and then two into three. He told himself that Allie was thriving on the Roberts’ farm. Why rock the boat now? Besides, he had Rowdy and Evan to stand in as his heirs apparent. All was good in his little kingdom. Or so he thought. He had never realized that Allie was suffering because of his perceived indifference; that folks in town, afraid for their livelihoods, treated her with kid gloves keeping her at a distance like he did, hoping to avoid raising his ire. It wasn’t until Allie was a young adult herself that he had had the wool pulled from his eyes. That it had been Eleanor, Randy’s usually docile
, quiet wife that had, as Rowdy so liked to say, ‘ripped him a new one’, still surprised him. Of course he really shouldn’t have been surprised, she was a veritable tiger mother when it came to her boys, and that had been the real reason she had finally spoken up.
When it had come to light that Evan, always the more introverted of the twins, was homosexual, Duncan had been appalled. In his shock and dismay he had been at a loss at how to react. Eleanor had come to him and berated him for not accepting Evan for who he was. He was the same boy they had all loved before, why should this development make any difference?
“I may have stood by in the past, to my eternal shame, and let you continue to nurse your pride with your indifference towards Allie, burdening her life with extra hardship, depriving her of her family, but the hell if I will let you do the same to my son,” Eleanor had proclaimed.
Duncan had been confounded, not really understanding what Eleanor was talking about. When she had finished with him though, the shame he had once felt over Grace’s disobedience was nothing to what he had felt over his treatment of Allie. His eyes had been opened that day. He looked around and saw Evan for who he truly was, still the clever, business-savvy go-getter that Duncan had been so proud to call his grandson. Rowdy on the other hand, had only added to his shame because when he looked at Rowdy, he saw himself - arrogant and power-hungry, unconcerned about who he had to step on to get what he wanted. It was his fault of course. He had taken Rowdy under his wing and taught him to be just like him.
Well, no more. Things were going to change, starting with Allie. Duncan didn’t try to fool himself into thinking Allie had forgiven him, despite the fact that she seemed somewhat agreeable to letting him into her life. He knew that the hurts ran deep and that Allie was only going along with things for Dougie’s sake. But, it was a start and at this point, Duncan would take what he could get.
“Mommy?” Dougie’s small voice carried down the stairs and into the living room, startling Duncan from his thoughts.
“Down here lad,” Duncan called back, striding to the stairs. A small, sleep tousled head peered down at him.
“Great-grandfather?”
“Good morning laddie. Why don’t you come downstairs?”
“Where’s my Mommy?”
“She’s had to go out. Now why don’t you come on down and I’ll explain it to you?”
“ Hafta pee first,” came the reply.
“Oh well, go take care of business then.” Duncan chuckled and turned to the kitchen. He looked at the clock on the wall; seven on the dot, just as Allie had predicted.
***
Rowdy scowled at the clock on the wall. He had been up most of the night and just wanted to head to bed, but seeing as how he had just fired his foreman, he was stuck actually having to do some work. But first he had to cover his tracks.
He looked back down at the architect’s drawings he had spread out before him. The top one showed the architect’s vision of the exterior of the guest lodge Rowdy had hoped to build, smack in the middle of the Roberts’s land. With its multiple trail access to the Badlands and mostly undeveloped rugged terrain, the Roberts place would have been the perfect location to build his ranch resort. Rowdy had been planning it for several years hoping to monopolize on the increasing interest in the area by tourists. It would operate similar to a dude ranch, but more upscale of course. He just needed to get his hands on the right property and then he would approach the bank for a start-up loan.
He’d thought he had things in the bag what with old man Roberts slowing down the last few years and Allie gone and living in the city for the most part. Rowdy had been sure the Roberts would be selling soon, especially when he heard that they had put their name on the waiting list for one of the new retirement condos being built in town.
That had been his first mistake, assuming it was going to be a done deal. His second was confiding his plans to Seth. It had been Seth’s idea to try and help things along, making it more appealing for Allie’s uncle to sell. Rowdy had been hesitant at first, but Seth seemed to think it would be easy, just a few pranks here and there. They would make sure to spread the trouble around though, to other properties in the area, just to help keep suspicions down. Hell, if they managed to convince someone else it was time to sell, all the better. It would only help to lower prices in the area.
He should have known better the moment he met Seth’s two hot-headed sons. The two men, both in their twenties, were working as roughnecks for an oil company somewhere over near Roland. Neither looked like someone you’d want to meet in a dark alley.
Rowdy cursed and scooped up the plans, crumpling them into a ball and throwing them into the metal garbage can on the floor beside the desk. He rummaged around in the desk drawer for a minute before finally finding a lighter. With a flick, he brought the small flame to a corner of the paper and watched as the drawings were turned to nothing but ash at the bottom of the can.
***
“Where’s my Mommy?”
Duncan turned from where he had been pouring himself a cup of coffee to see Dougie standing in the middle of the kitchen, a belligerent look on his face. He coughed to cover his chuckle. Dougie looked just like Rowdy had a few hours ago.
“Your mother is not here right now because there was an emergency,” he replied.
“What kind of 'mergency? Where is Auntie Laine and Unca Russ?”
Duncan paused wondering how much to tell the boy. Allie had said not to sugar-coat things with Dougie, to just give him the facts. “Well, your uncle wasn’t feeling well and so your aunt and your mother have taken him to see the doctor.”
“Dr. Mike?” Dougie asked hopefully.
“Uh, no. Dr…Dr. Mike is a veterinarian, an animal doctor. Your uncle needed to go to the hospital…for people.”
“Oh, I like Dr. Mike. I wish he was my daddy,” Dougie said wistfully.
Duncan looked at the boy, surprised. “You do? And why is that?”
“Well, he’s funny and he makes Mommy smile and he gave me some puppies,” Dougie replied with a smile, then frowned. “Well, he didn’t give them to me, they’re just loaner puppies, we don’t get to keep them. At least not all of them, but Dr. Mike said if we softened up Mommy I could probably keep Spike. He’s my favourite. But don’t tell Mommy about the softening up part. Dr. Mike said we should just keep that to ourselves.”
Duncan smiled indulgently. “I think that’s probably a good idea.”
“Is Unca Russ going to get a zipper?”
“A zipper?” Duncan looked at the little boy, perplexed.
“Like the one I got on my back.” Dougie turned and lifted up his pyjama top to show Duncan the raised, two-inch scar at the base of his spine. “I got mine when I was just little. I had to have an opration.” He paused, his brow furrowing in concentration. “An ah-per-ray-shun,” he continued, emphasizing each syllable with a nod of his head.
“Oh, I see. Well, you must have been very brave.”
Dougie shrugged. “I guess. I don’t remember. But I remember Mommy slept beside my bed the whole time I had to be in the hospital. Is she sleeping by Unca Russ’s bed?”
“Well, I don’t think so. That is, she probably isn’t sleeping right now and she’ll be home later today. She just wanted to make sure that everything is okay with your uncle first.”
“That’s good. My Mommy will take care of him. She can fix anything. She’s the best.”
Duncan smiled at the pride in the little boy’s voice. “Yes, yes she is.” He reached over to pat Dougie on the head then scooped him up and set him on a stool at the counter. “Now, how about we get you your medicine and then you can have some juice.”
“Can I watch TV after?”
“Does your mother let you watch TV before breakfast?”
Dougie nodded his head emphatically. “Yes. I can watch ‘toons while she makes brea
kfast but then I hafta eat at the table,” he replied somewhat reluctantly.
“Okay then. That sounds like a good plan.”
Duncan went to the refrigerator and took out the medicine that Allie had prepared. He also pulled out a small container and grabbed a spoon from the drawer and set them beside a bottle of small, white pills.
“Alright. So. Your mother got this all ready for you and she tells me you take your pills with a spoonful of pudding?”
“Uh-huh. ‘Cause a spoonful of pudding helps the medicine go down.” Dougie beamed up at Duncan.
Duncan smiled back at the boy. “Alright then. So which comes first? This?” He held up the small syringe-like medicine measure containing a red liquid. “Or this?” He shook the bottle of pills.
Dougie pointed to the red medicine. “I take this one first ‘cause it’s spicy and makes my mouth all tingly. Then I have the pudding to wash the tingles away.”
“Well, you’re the expert.” He held the medicine measure out to Dougie. “Can you manage by yourself, or do you need some help?”
“I can do it.”
Duncan watched as Dougie put the medicine to his lips and pushed the plunger down squeezing the liquid into his mouth. Dougie swished it around then swallowed, reaching for the spoonful of pudding in which Duncan had placed four small, white pills.
Dougie set the empty spoon on the counter and looked up at Duncan. “Can I have my juice and watch TV now?”
“Sure thing, lad. But first, tell me what you would like for breakfast. Your mother said there was cereal - ”
“Can I have waffles?”
“I don’t think I know how to make those,” Duncan replied reluctantly.