The Construction of Cheer

by Liz Isaacson

  “I texted him an apology after I sort of snapped at him last time he wanted me to go to town with him.”

  “Mm.” Bishop became keenly aware of how long he’d been gone from his own luncheon. “I’ll bring you a whole plate of food later, if you want.”

  “Thanks,” Cactus said. “I don’t know why I can’t today, only that my skin was crawling in there.”

  “Think about that,” Bishop said. “Because I thought that was getting better too.”

  “I’m going to talk to Judge,” Cactus said.

  “Good idea,” Bishop said, though he thought Cactus should go to a licensed therapist once a week, not his brother who’d started his psychology degree and never finished. “Love you, brother. Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll bring cake to make up the rest.”

  He started to turn away from Cactus, but his brother grabbed him and held him in a tight hug. “You’re a good man, Bishop. Happy birthday.” He stepped back as quickly as he’d grabbed him, and Bishop could only stare at his brother’s back as he strode away.

  “Please help him iron everything flat,” he begged the Lord. “Please. He’s suffered enough. Can’t you let Willa Knowlton know that? She could help him so much.”

  “Are you sure we can just leave?” Montana whispered, looking around at everyone still hanging around the homestead.

  “Yeah,” Bishop said in an equally low voice. “Aurora’s got five grown men hanging on her every word. Your aunt and uncle are here. Come on.” He stood and nodded at Jackie, retrieved the small box and card from the top of the fridge, and led Montana outside.

  He couldn’t even breathe it was so hot. “Okay, so this is a bad idea,” he said. “Let’s go to the barn. It’s air conditioned.”

  “Okay.” Montana followed him to his truck, because he wasn’t about to walk in this heat and humidity, even if it would only take ten minutes. He’d be soaking wet by the time he got there, and he already had plenty of days like that to look forward to.

  The barn wasn’t locked, and he slid the door open easily. He and Montana had snuck several kisses right here in this barn, but today, Bishop slid the door closed and stepped over to the thermostat. He turned it down and faced her. “Thanks for a gift,” he said.

  “I didn’t realize you guys didn’t do gifts.”

  “Mother brought me one on Friday,” he said, smiling. “And Cactus actually gave me something a couple of weeks ago.”

  Montana looked at the box. “Aurora wrapped it. We did the best we could.”

  “I’m already in love with it,” he said, gazing at the blue and white striped paper. He lifted his eyes to hers. “Surely you know by now how smitten I am with you.”

  She smiled and reached up to cradle his face. “I have a little bit of an idea.” She nodded to the box. “Open it. Then you’ll know I’m a little bit smitten by you too.”

  “Will I?” Bishop’s anxiety and excitement doubled. “All right. Here I go.” He tore off the paper and stalled. “Wait. Should I open the card first?”

  “You’re really bad at opening gifts,” Montana teased. “You just open it.”

  He met her eye. “A terrible kisser and bad at opening gifts. Why are you still with me?” He grinned and chuckled, especially when she shook her head.

  “That wasn’t a real kiss,” she said, which was what she said every time he teased her that she’d called him a terrible kisser.

  He finished taking the paper off the box to find a box without any markings on it. “Intriguing,” he said.

  “Aurora said you get boys what they like,” Montana said.

  “Are you seriously trying to justify your gift?” he asked. “And did you just call me a boy?”

  “Stop it,” she said, laughing. “I’m nervous about this.”

  “Why?” He opened the box before she could answer, and after peering inside, he pulled in a breath. “Montana Louise Martin.” He looked up, his eyes wide. “Did you get me the new smartMeasure?”

  “Yes, sir.” She looked at him with apprehension in every particle of her being.

  “You’re going to get me in trouble with Bear,” he murmured, taking her into his arms. “Thank you so much. I love this.” He wanted to say he loved her, but he didn’t. It was far too soon for that, and he wasn’t in love with her anyway.

  He liked her very, very much, though, and in soft, wonderful, private moments like this one, that could feel a lot like love.

  “Remind me to tell you about Bowman’s Breeds,” he said, and she pulled back to look at him again.

  “Tell me now.”

  “No,” he said with a grin. “Now, I’m going to kiss you.” He did just that, and the way Montana melted into his arms meant a great deal to him.

  She only kissed him for a few seconds before she pulled away and said, “Oh, and my middle name isn’t Louise.”

  He laughed lightly. “I know. I just made that up. What is it?” He traced the tip of his nose down the side of her face and placed a kiss below her ear.

  “Jewel,” she said.

  “Mm.” He kissed her again, thinking she was exactly the jewel his life had needed, and his gratitude that a loving Lord knew exactly what he needed, and when, grew.

  Bishop found Bear sitting at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes closed as he leaned against the bannister. “You ready?” he asked.

  Bear’s eyes opened, and he looked tired. “Yeah,” he said.

  “Are you okay?” Bishop asked. “I’m worried about you.”

  “I’m okay,” he said, standing. “I’m going to take tomorrow off, though. Ranger has everything I need to do.”

  Bishop knew then that Bear wasn’t okay. “What aren’t you telling me?” He paused with his hand on the doorknob so he didn’t miss a moment of Bear’s reaction.

  “Being married is full of challenges,” Bear said with a smile. “How’s that for a start?”

  Bishop wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not, though he suspected not. Bishop had never been married, but he’d seen his parents go through hard times.

  “Come on,” Bear said. “If we don’t do this today, it’ll just get put off again.”

  Bishop opened the door and Bear walked outside. Bishop’s letter suddenly felt so heavy in his pocket, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to show it to Bear. They walked in silence down the steps and sidewalk to the graveled area where everyone parked. From there, it was a straight shot across the street to the family cemetery, and once they’d stepped onto the grass there, Bear sighed.

  “What did Cactus have to say this afternoon?”

  “He’s havin’ a hard time,” Bishop said. That was all of a report Bear ever got. Bishop didn’t want to betray Cactus’s confidence, so he delivered everything in terms of how he was doing. “I’m taking some cake out there after this.”

  “Good idea,” Bear said. “He hasn’t been staying for much at the homestead.”

  “He doesn’t go to town anymore either.”

  “I wish there was something I could do to help him.”

  “I used to feel like that too,” Bishop said. “But after a while, I learned that Cactus is the only one who can help Cactus.”

  Bear looked at him. “You sounded just like Daddy right there.”

  “Great,” Bishop said. “Barely thirty-four, and already sounding like an old man.” He tried to laugh, but Bear didn’t even crack a smile.

  He took out his letter and held it toward Bishop. “I don’t want you to read the whole thing. I just want you to read the last little bit.”

  Bishop’s heart started to pound. “Okay.” He reached for the paper and Bear let him take it.

  “It’s the last five paragraphs. Starts with the word ‘please’.” Bear walked all the way to the fence and put his foot on the bottom rung. Bishop hung back and unfolded the letter.

  The urge to read the whole thing as quickly as he could surged through him, but he forced his eyes to the bottom of the page.

  Bear’s letter was longer than Bisho
p’s, and he tried not to let the envy steal through him.

  Please, watch out for Bishop. I fear for him the most, because we are so very important to one another, and he will need your champion heart in the days and years after I am gone.

  Bishop looked up at the strong back of his brother. There was no way Bear had seen this letter before, and he had watched out for Bishop from the very day Daddy had died.

  He took a deep breath. He and Daddy had been so very important to each other, and Bishop re-read that line and closed his eyes. “I miss you,” he whispered.

  There was so much his father hadn’t been able to witness. He hadn’t seen Bishop prove his worth as a cowboy. He hadn’t seen him take over the construction. He hadn’t seen him design and build the barn, or any of the other dozens of projects Bishop had completed over the years.

  He hadn’t met Montana, and he hadn’t been here for Cactus’s wedding, or Bear’s, or Ranger’s.

  He wouldn’t be here for Bishop’s, if he could manage to get down the aisle.

  Bishop took a steadying breath and kept reading.

  I leave you with the words of Grandmother, whom I know you loved.

  Do not stifle him. Do not stifle yourself, Bear. Do not stifle Bishop. Do not stifle that championship spirit you were named for.

  Embrace it, and you will never be led astray.

  I love you, and I pray that anything I have done that you resent or are bitter about will be forgiven in the future.

  Daddy

  Daddy had asked Bishop to forgive him too, and Bishop hadn’t found one thing he needed to forgive his father for—except dying so early.

  He supposed that resentment belonged to the Lord though, and Bishop had never allowed it to sink too deeply into his heart.

  He refolded Bear’s letter and took out his own. He joined Bear at the fence, though they could wander among the headstones if they wanted.

  “Thank you,” he said, giving the letter back. “For letting me see it, and for doing exactly what it said to do before you even got it.”

  Bear nodded and tucked the letter back into his pocket.

  “You’re mentioned in mine,” Bishop said. “You can read the whole thing if you want.”

  Bear glanced at the letter, obvious interest in his eyes. “Maybe another time. I’m still recovering from my own letter.”

  It had been a few weeks since Bishop and Montana had shown up at the homestead with the love letters, and as Bishop stood there with Bear, he realized that Bear’s mood and demeanor had flipped a switch about the time the love letters had made a reappearance.

  But it wasn’t the love letters troubling Bear. It was Daddy’s letter to him. It sure seemed like a good one to Bishop, but he hadn’t read the whole thing.

  “Bear, you’ve done right by all of us,” Bishop said. “So if that’s what—”

  “It’s not that,” he said.

  “Then what is it?”

  “I can’t explain it,” Bear said. “I honestly feel like I’m grieving his death all over again.” He went over the fence. “I just need some time to grieve him again.”

  “Okay,” Bishop said, and he followed Bear over the fence and into the cemetery. Together, they cleaned up Daddy’s grave, and then Uncle Bull’s. The two brothers were buried right next to one another, with space on the outer sides for Mother and Aunt Dawna.

  Once Bear was satisfied with the cleanliness of the headstones, he straightened. “You and Montana make a real nice couple.”

  “Thank you,” Bishop said. “I sure do like her, and that Aurora is quite the character.”

  Bear chuckled, and when he looked at Bishop this time, he had some of the sparkle and happiness he’d had for much of the past year back in his eyes. “She sure is. Mister said something about how he wished she was older so he could ask her out. You should’ve heard Judge rip into him.”

  Bear shook his head.

  “What are we going to do about those two? They can’t move back into the Ranch House together. Things have been better since Mister’s been livin’ up in that cabin.”

  “I know,” Bear said. “I think Mister will take one of the cabins in the southern sector for a permanent residence. That’s probably what I’ll suggest to him.”

  “Smart,” Bishop said. He bent down and brushed a tad more dirt from the S on Daddy’s name. Daddy had counseled Bishop to look to those around him and to emulate their best qualities.

  He’d always tried to do that, starting with his father. “Love you, Daddy,” he said, stepping back to Bear’s side. “Thanks, Bear.”

  “I haven’t stifled you, have I, Bishop?”

  “Not even a little bit.”

  Bear nodded, lost somewhere inside his own head. Bishop let his thoughts wander too, most of them lighting on Montana, Ace, and Cactus. He had a lot left to do today, and he finally stepped away from Bear, saying, “I best get out to Cactus’s before it gets too late.”

  “Yep.” Bear stayed in the cemetery, and as Bishop went back over the fence, he said a prayer for Bear too. It was a good reminder for Bishop that even the mighty Bear, who seemingly had everything on the outside, struggled with things too.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Montana bent to do her side of the table while Bishop pulled out the legs on his. “Bishop, Bowman’s Breeds is at Three Rivers Ranch. It’s a forty-five-minute drive from the edge of town, and it takes ten just to get there from my aunt’s house.”

  They righted the circular table, and their eyes met across it.

  “I know,” Bishop said, turning to grab another tablecloth. The whole family would gather in True Blue for Lois Glover’s birthday party. Why they were using the barn this time when they’d used the homestead for Bishop’s birthday, Montana didn’t know. She hadn’t asked.

  Bishop had said they needed to get the barn set up for the party, and then he was going to spend the afternoon at home, relaxing and resting while Holly Ann, the woman Ace had hired to do the food for the party, set up in the barn. Montana would go back to town like she always did, to be there for Aurora in the afternoon, and then she and her family were coming back to the party that evening.

  “I can’t drive her to Three Rivers and then drive back here,” Montana said. “It would take me over two hours.”

  Bishop tossed the cream-colored cloth across the table and Montana grabbed it to straighten it out. “I know that.”

  “Can you say anything besides ‘I know’?” Montana glared at him. She’d been so excited about the prospect of Aurora getting a job at Bowman’s Breeds. Even Aurora was excited about it, and Montana did not want to have to tell her that it wasn’t going to work out. Montana already felt like a failure in so many ways when it came to parenting Aurora. She did, and always had, wanted the best for her daughter.

  The truth was, as a single mom with limited resources, there were spaces she simply couldn’t fill. As Aurora got older, Montana told her appropriate things to help her daughter understand that Montana tried to fill those spaces as best she could.

  But many remained, and Montana felt the weight of them every single day.

  Bishop smiled, and that only aggravated her further. He didn’t understand those gaps, and he’d likely never experienced them.

  Not fair, she told herself even as they went to work on another table. His father had died when he was eighteen years old. There had been gaps in his life; they were simply different than the ones in Montana’s or Aurora’s.

  “I’ve arranged a ride for her,” Bishop said, his gaze steady on the underside of the table, as if he’d never seen anything like it before.

  “What does that mean?” Montana pulled out the legs on her side and gripped the edges of the table. They set that one up, and Bishop retrieved another tablecloth.

  He sighed as he spread it across the table and Montana pulled it flat on her side. They stayed there for a few seconds, looking at each other.

  “You won’t like it.”

  “Then why did you do
it?”

  “Because it’s a perfect solution, and it allows your daughter to work at the training facility and you to keep working here.” He smiled, and it wasn’t his cocky I-know-I’m-gorgeous smile. It wasn’t his playful smile. It wasn’t his joyful smile. And it wasn’t his flirty, coy smile.

  Montana had seen all of those, and they were all wonderful. But this one was twice as amazing, because it spoke of his sensitive side. The side that cared about people and wanted them to be happy.

  He cared about her and wanted her to be happy.

  “What is it?” she asked softly.

  “Wyatt Walker works at Three Rivers a few times a week,” Bishop said, and Montana stiffened, her back moving to be perfectly straight. “See?” He shook his head. “I knew you wouldn’t like it, but Montana, it works.”

  He came around the table and cradled her face in one hand. “I know you don’t like Micah Walker all that much, but what could you possibly have against Wyatt?”

  Montana clung to the bitterness she held for all Walkers, though she knew she needed to let it go. She simply didn’t know how.

  She hadn’t known how to keep living with her sisters as they each dated her ex-boyfriend. She hadn’t known how to forgive her ex-husband for cheating on her and bringing home both men and women while their daughter slept in the room next door.

  She hadn’t known how to keep talking to her mother when she’d sided first with Johnny and then with Paris and Georgia.

  If she couldn’t figure out how to let go of all of that, she certainly couldn’t figure out how to release Micah and his whole family from the cage of her resentment. She wished she’d never said anything about him to Bishop, but the man was pretty perceptive, and she’d wanted to share with him.

  “Anyway,” Bishop said, leaning down and touching his lips to her cheek. So he wasn’t going to play fair. Montana remained completely still. “He lives way up in the east hills, close to you, actually. He said he drives right past your place to get to Three Rivers, and he’ll pick up Aurora on his way.”

  “She can’t ride with him alone,” Montana said. “I don’t even know him.”