by Liz Isaacson
In moments like these, he didn’t need to go to lunch with his mother ever again. Ranger was his person, and so was Bear, and so was Ward, and so was Cactus.
“We always get interrupted, or you know, I’ve made a joke of it.”
“I can’t imagine either of those,” Cactus said dryly. “Do we interrupt each other around here?”
Bishop shot him a look and kept going. “I’m frustrated, because I usually know if a woman likes me, and with her, I don’t know.”
“Who is it?” Ranger asked. “You’ve been working a lot. Perhaps the timing just isn’t right to get off the ranch and go to dinner with her.” He raised his eyebrows as if asking if that could be the issue.
Bishop drew his shoulders back, ready to spill the secret. “It’s Montana.”
“Montana?” Bear asked, leaning forward now. “The woman you hired at three times our daily rate to work construction with you?”
“Yes.” Bishop dropped his chin toward his chest.
“The woman he hired,” Bear said. “The woman he hired who made it impossible for him to hire anyone else.”
“I have plenty of people to hire,” Bishop said, the fire inside him licking its way up his throat. He raised his head and glared at Bear. “If you’d just release more of the budget.”
“We gave you an appropriate budget.”
“The Ranch House is infested with two colonies of two different types of termites,” Bishop shot back. “You did not give me an adequate budget for construction personnel for that.” He’d had to reschedule everything from the painters to the furniture delivery. That had taken days to accomplish, and Bear just assumed Bishop snapped his fingers and magic happened.
“He needs more budget,” Ranger said, causing Bishop to whip his attention to his soft-spoken yet fierce cousin.
“I agree,” Ward said.
“Thank you,” Bishop said. “Despite my…rash hiring of Montana—which I’m not wrong about, by the way. She’s amazing with a hammer and a power drill.” In fact, he had to stop speaking so how amazing he thought she was while working with power tools wouldn’t show in his voice.
“I’ll bet you think so,” Bear said, smiling.
Bishop wished he had his bagel back so he could throw it at his smug brother. It had taken him months to ask Sammy to dinner, and their first date had been so horrid, neither of them had called for another.
He would never actually rub that in Bear’s face, because Bishop knew what it was like to want to call a woman and feel like he couldn’t. He also knew what it felt like to wish a woman would call him, and she didn’t.
Bear started to chuckle, and Bishop wasn’t sure what the joke was. Probably him. He’d felt like a loser for a solid week, after attending Career Day at Lincoln’s school and learning what amazing lives and jobs all the other moms and dads had.
He’d been late getting back to the ranch, and that had prompted him to stay silent about the dinner he’d asked Montana to have with him that night. She never had confirmed, and he’d simply let it slide into the past.
Before he knew it, everyone at the table was laughing except for him, and Bishop looked around at all of them.
Benny jumped up and put his paws on the table, and Bear growled at him and pushed him down. “No,” he said, and the puppy came to Bishop’s side. He curled onto his feet while the laughter subsided, and Bishop looked around at his brothers and cousins.
“So how do I do it?” he asked. “Text her? Call her? Maybe then there wouldn’t be any distractions. Maybe we’d have time for the part where she says yes or no.”
“And what if she says no?” Ranger asked. “You’re going to keep working with her?”
“And paying her triple the rate,” Bear added.
“Yes,” Bishop said. “I can be a professional.” He nodded at Ranger, then turned his attention to Bear. “If the salary bothers you so much, I’ll pay her from my personal account. She’s worth it, Bear. She apprenticed with the best woodworker in the state. She does beautiful work, and it’s not even hard for her.” He leveled his gaze at his oldest brother. “If I’d have quoted her fifty bucks a day, she’d have laughed and walked right out the door.”
“I have an idea,” Cactus said, and everyone turned their attention to him. He didn’t speak up as much as others, especially in meetings like this one. When he did, everyone listened, especially Bishop.
He trusted Cactus with his whole might, mind, and strength, and he’d seriously consider his idea.
“He asks her out again.” He glanced at Bishop. “Just call her, Bish. Call her as soon as we’re done here and don’t get off the phone until you guys have something set or she definitively says no. It’s obviously eating at you, and you’ll feel like a new man if you know one way or the other.”
Bishop nodded, his chest suddenly so tight.
“If she says yes,” Cactus continued. “He gets to work with her on the construction projects around the ranch and offer her a raise.”
“What?” Bear asked, his voice on the border of a bellow.
“If she says no,” Cactus said as if Bear hadn’t spoken at all. “He gets the extra budget that three of us agree he needs, and he can hire the extra people so he won’t have to see her as much.”
Bishop immediately knew where Cactus was driving. “So you’re going to give me an increased budget no matter what.”
“I think we should,” Cactus said. “Ranger and Ward already agreed.” He looked across the table to Ranger, who nodded. “If Montana says yes, she can have the extra budget for her salary, and you two get to work exclusively together. The projects will take longer….” He let the sentence hang there, and Bishop got lost in a fantasy for a few moments.
Him and Montana, working on all the construction around the ranch. Together. No one else. It was always sunny but never too hot. She held his hand on rooftops and beneath trees, and he kissed her with a summer breeze blowing across his shoulders, his cowboy hat pressed against her back as she cradled his face in her hands.
“He’s gone,” Bear said, and Bishop blinked his way back to the meeting.
“Sorry, what?”
“I hope it was a good vision,” Bear said. “Because I just agreed to this crazy plan of Cactus’s, and you didn’t even hear me.”
Bishop’s eyes widened, and he looked at the other men at the table, all of them either nodding or chuckling too. He swallowed and said, “It was a good vision, thanks.”
The five of them laughed together then, and Bishop stood up to leave the conference room with everyone else. “Thanks, Bear,” he said, stepping to his brother’s side.
“Of course,” Bear said. “Bishop, if you need more budget, just say so. You never even said.” He paused to let the others exit first.
“I was embarrassed,” Bishop admitted in a near-whisper. “I know how important it is to you to maintain the integrity of our daddy’s procedures.”
“Daddy never had to deal with two termite infestations in one house.” Bear clapped his hand on Bishop’s shoulder. “Or a beautiful blonde with impressive carpentry skills.”
“Yeah,” Bishop said, needing this moment to be lighter. “He had to deal with Mother.”
Bear burst out laughing, though they both loved their mother very much. “And six unruly boys, and Arizona.”
“No wonder he went to an early grave,” Bishop said, though that wasn’t funny at all.
He and Bear sobered, and Bear looked him right in the eye. “Let’s go out to the cemetery on Sunday morning before church. Just you and me.”
The lump in Bishop’s throat choked him, so all he did was nod. How did Bear know that Bishop needed exactly what he’d just suggested? That he needed to feel connected to Bear and his father, and he couldn’t if they weren’t all together?
“All right,” Bear said, his voice gruff. “Now go call that woman and see what she says.” He grinned at Bishop, who suddenly had more confidence than he needed to make the call.
Outside, in his tr
uck, he looked at his phone. He didn’t want to call, though he could. He knew right were Montana was, and that she was expecting him in the cabin they’d started yesterday in only ten minutes.
He should at least call and let her know he was running a little late. He backed out first, then tapped to get the phone ringing.
“Hey,” she said after only one ring. “Let me guess. You’re running late.”
“Only ten minutes or so,” he said, wondering if he was really always running late.
“Did you happen to get any of that candy you mentioned?”
He looked at the bag of chocolate-covered mint patties he’d taken from the conference room. “Yes, ma’am. A whole bag.”
“Thank the Lord above,” she said with a sigh. “Because I pulled out the stove, and Bishop, you’re not going to like what I found.”
His heart started to pound, and he started up the lane toward Mother’s too fast. “What is it?”
“There’s a huge hole in the wall here,” she said, her voice moving further from the speaker and pitching it down. “I’m surprised you can’t see it from outside.”
“Great,” he said, his mood suddenly foul again. “Listen, can we forget about the hole for a second? I want to ask you something.”
“Okay.” Her voice centered again. “What is it?”
“It’s about us going to dinner,” he said. “Is that ever going to happen? I know we’ve both been busy. The ranch is sort of a mess right now, and we work hard all day. You go home to Aurora in the afternoons, which you totally should. I’m not saying you shouldn’t. Then, when you come back, I’m gone.”
He exhaled, not quite sure why he’d given such a long soliloquy. He should’ve just stopped after Is that ever going to happen?
“But I’m frustrated,” he admitted. “I think you’re incredible, and beautiful, and I want to get to know you while I’m not wearing a mask to protect myself from mold, and literally the ugliest pair of kneepads ever created.”
There. He’d said it all. Now, if she’d just say yes, Bishop could get back to living a normal life. Well, as normal of a life as he’d ever had while dating a pretty blonde woman.
“How about when you get here,” she said slowly. “We get my assistant on the phone and make a plan?”
A smile burst onto Bishop’s face. “I’ll be there in ten.”
The call ended, and Bishop couldn’t stop smiling, despite the news of a hole in the wall creeping back into his mind. It didn’t matter. He and Montana were tearing these cabins all the way back to their studs and floorboards. If they had to put in a new one, so be it.
The rest of the drive seemed to take forever, but he finally pulled in next to Montana’s gray pickup. He’d barely gotten out of the truck when she came rushing out onto the porch. “Come see this, Bishop.”
He just wanted to see her, but her wide-eyed excitement had his heart pounding triple time. The sight of her made his pulse double every single time, and he drank in her tank top of choice today.
This one was purple, which played nicely with her hair and eyes, and had a very grumpy cat on the front of it. She wore the funkiest shirts he’d ever seen, and that was one of the things he’d really like to ask her about while they sat across from one another at a nice restaurant, all thoughts of Shiloh Ridge somewhere else.
He took the steps two at a time and followed her into the cabin. They’d started in the kitchen, so he didn’t have to step from floor stud to floor stud to get to her. She turned just as he arrived at the bank of cabinets they’d pried off the floor yesterday but hadn’t removed from the cabin yet.
A small, black safe sat there. “This was in that hole,” Montana said, her voice animated in a way he’d never heard before. He simply stared at the safe, which was probably two feet wide and two feet tall. She pointed to the top of it. “There was this piece of tape here, and it had these numbers on it. Looked like a combination, so I figured, why not? I put them in, and it opened.”
He met her eye, and she carried pure joy and wonder in her expression. He found her made of light and beauty, and he wanted to see what she’d found inside that safe more than almost anything.
Almost.
This is another distraction, a voice in his head said.
He put his palm against the door of the safe and turned his hip into it. “I want to see what’s in this. I do.” He met her eyes again and swallowed. “But I really want to go out with you, and I’m not going to let another distraction prevent that from happening.”
Surprise entered her eyes, quickly followed by a bit of shyness.
“Just tell me I’m not the only one whose heartbeat goes crazy when I see you.”
She dropped her gaze to her hands, and Bishop wanted to make her look at him. He reached out and took both of her hands in his. “That came out wrong. Of course your own pulse doesn’t go crazy when you see yourself. But me. When you see me, do you react at all? I mean, I don’t need a huge compliment or anything, but I just….” He sighed. “I’m making a big mess of things.”
He so wasn’t the calm, cool, flirty cowboy he usually was with women. Ace would be downright horrified by everything he’d just admitted to, and Cactus would wish he’d gotten it all on video.
She looked up at him then, her eyes the crystal clear blue of a pure lake of fresh water. “I think you wanted to know when a sweet, charming, handsome cowboy asked me to dinner.”
Bishop could only search her face, his hope skyrocketing with every moment that passed. He’d used the word flirty to describe himself. Not sweet, or charming, or handsome.
“One did,” she said. “I’m going to say yes.”
“Is that right?” he asked, his voice scratchy and rusted.
She nodded and gently pulled her hands away from his. “Let’s see what my assistant says we should do this weekend.” She took out her phone and tapped on something. She stepped closer to him, bringing the scent of green apples, sweat, and wood with her. He breathed it in, his blood turning to liquid lava in his veins.
She held her phone out so they could both see it. “Have you used this app? Two Cents?” She looked up at him, her face so close now that all Bishop would have to do was dip his four inches and he could kiss her.
Don’t, he thought, and he just looked back at the app.
“I think your cousin owns it,” she said. “He sent a really sweet message to his girlfriend a few months ago.”
“That he did,” Bishop said. “I’ve used it a few times.”
She tapped once and then paused. “Most romantic first date spots.”
“Let’s look at that,” he said, his voice as quiet as hers had been.
She dropped her thumb onto it, and Bishop tensed in the half-second it took to load the list.
“Couples massage,” they read aloud.
Bishop looked at Montana, and she turned her head to look at him too. They burst out laughing together, and she said, “Okay, so maybe number two.”
He kept chuckling as she read, “Hike to Apple Falls and eat dinner as the sun goes down.” She looked up at him again, and he again thought of kissing her. “I’d do that. It sounds fun.”
“Tonight?” he asked, dropping his head six inches instead of four and skating his lips along her jawline.
She drew in a stuttering breath and said, “I need to talk to my aunt first.”
“So you do have an assistant,” he murmured, straightening so he wouldn’t make his heart explode for how fast it was currently beating.
“Give me five minutes.” She stepped away from him. “Look inside that while I’m gone.” With that, she walked away from him. Bishop watched her go, enjoying every moment.
He felt like whooping, like ripping his cowboy hat from his head and tossing it in the air for joy. Instead, he opened the safe, not sure what he’d find.
A wooden box sat on the left side, and it was completely crusted in grime and dust, along with broken cobwebs. Montana must have pulled it out already, because it
came easily and left behind a clean portion of the bottom of the safe.
The lid opened fairly easily, with only a slight squeak of protest from one of the hinges. Letters sat inside. Old letters, with curling, strong cursive writing on the envelopes.
He sucked in a breath, his pulse spinning as wildly as his thoughts. He knew what these were, but he still reached delicately inside to take out the top envelope.
The letter was addressed to Lois Mather, and Bishop closed his eyes as he pressed the old paper with his father’s beautiful handwriting on it to his chest.
“Thank you, Lord,” he whispered. Mother had been looking for her love letters from Daddy for years. Over a decade. Since Daddy had died, actually.
He’d taken them from her to be preserved in a book, but he’d passed away before he’d ever presented her with the gift.
She’d cried for days after his death, and most of that was because of these letters that she’d lost.
Bishop opened his eyes, the love between his mother and father a palpable being in the room with him. In fact, Bishop looked up as if Daddy himself would be standing on the other side of the countertop. “I feel you, Daddy,” he whispered. “Mother is going to be so happy.”
Take care of your mother, son.
Bishop nodded now, the same way he had the last time he’d spoken to his father. His dad had taught him to love and respect his mother, claiming that she’d gone to the edge of death to bring him into the world, and she’d done it because she loved him ages before she even knew him.
Daddy had loved her so much too.
He reached into the box and took out all of the letters. There had to be at least fifty, and he wanted to read every one of them. They needed to be cleaned and salvaged, and Bishop immediately thought he and his siblings should do it for their mother’s birthday, which was only about six weeks away now.
He tucked the letters back into the box, intending to get them into something cleaner as soon as possible, and returned his attention to the safe.
A legal-sized envelope sat on the other half of the safe, and Bishop’s fingers trembled as he reached for it. He knew what it contained before he’d opened it. After Daddy’s death, he and the other children had found envelopes with money in them all over the house.