by Liz Isaacson
“Baby,” Bishop said, pure kindness in his voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Be honest with me,” she said. “How much of that did you pay for?”
“I don’t know the exact number.” He reached for her hand. “I don’t care, so I didn’t keep track. You don’t owe me anything.”
She nodded and wiped her eyes. “When did you call Micah and suggest he partner with me?”
Bishop opened his mouth, but it fell closed a moment later.
“He told me,” Montana said, some of the ice that had filled her veins in that cat coffee house returning. “And I want to know when that phone call was made. To the very hour.”
“I don’t remember,” he said. “April or May.”
“Before or after I told you about my feelings for him?”
“Before, Montana. I swear. It was before. After you told me, I was horrified I’d called him, and I thought about calling him and telling him not to say anything. But he hadn’t said anything yet, and then he never did, and….” He looked down, his apology right there in his whole countenance.
“And you thought you were in the clear,” Montana said.
Bishop nodded without looking at her. “You’re the best carpenter in the state,” he said. “I wanted him to know that. I want everyone to know that.” He looked up at her. “Of course, I don’t want you to work for anyone but me. And not even for me. I want you to work with me.”
“This pair is darker,” Aurora said. “I’m still trying to decide if I like the big holes over my knees.”
Montana held Bishop’s gaze for another moment before turning back to her daughter.
“Do they make my knees look too knobby?”
“No,” Montana said, sniffling again. “No, baby, they look great.”
Aurora looked at her, concern in her eyes instantly. She switched her gaze to Bishop. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Montana said at the same time Bishop said, “I betrayed your mother’s confidence, and she just found out.”
Aurora came forward, anger in her eyes. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” Montana released Bishop’s hand and stood up. “It’s fine, sweetie. Let me see the back of the jeans.”
Aurora looked directly into Montana’s eyes, said nothing, and stepped around her so she was between Bishop and Montana. “How dare you? She works for you like a dog for months, saving every penny she can and giving you her very best work, and you betray her? How dare you?” She looked down to Bishop’s feet and back to his face, as if sizing him up and finding him short.
“Aurora,” Montana said quietly. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay,” Aurora said, her voice pitching up. “I’m so sick of all the stupid cowboys in this town.” She spun and grabbed onto Montana, her tears hot and wet against Montana’s shoulder. “They think they can just do whatever they want, and because they’re so cute or so nice, that we’ll just put up with their crap.”
She pulled away, her expression furious despite the tears. “We don’t have to put up with that.”
“No,” Montana said. “We don’t.” She looked past Aurora to Bishop, who looked as perplexed as she felt. He clearly hadn’t heard anything she didn’t know.
“Sweetheart, did something happen with Oliver?” Montana guided her daughter to the couch where she’d been sitting.
Bishop smartly shifted over to the loveseat, which sat perpendicular to the couch. “I’ll stop by and have a word with him if he hurt you,” he said.
Montana shook her head, though she actually appreciated him being there.
“No,” Aurora said. “Bishop, don’t you dare talk to him.”
“Tell us what happened,” Montana said. Her mind spun with the possibilities, and she prayed mightily that it was something easily fixed, though she knew matters of the heart were unusually complicated and never easily fixed.
“Some other girl asked him to the Christmas Ball already,” Aurora said, sniffling. “And because he is so kind, and so good, he didn’t feel like he could tell her no.” She studied her hands as a new wave of tears moved down her face. “It’s not even October, Momma. How was I supposed to know I needed to ask him to the Christmas Ball so soon?” She looked at Montana with pure grief in her eyes.
“You couldn’t have known,” Montana said, wrapping Aurora in a tight hug. She pressed her eyes closed. “Surely he doesn’t like this other girl, right? He’s just going because he’s nice.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Aurora said. “How am I supposed to keep hanging out with him? Surely she knows, but he doesn’t think she does. So then if he takes me to the Pumpkin Smash, or we hang out at the school dances after the football games, she’ll feel stupid.” Aurora shook her head. “It’s a no-win situation.” She looked at Bishop too, clearly wanting his input. Montana would love to know what he’d do here too.
“I really like Oliver—a whole lot. I think he likes me too. But neither of us want to make someone else feel awkward. I don’t know what to do.”
Bishop took a breath and hesitated. He looked at Montana, clearly seeking her permission. The vulnerability and fear in his eyes wasn’t lost on her, and she nodded.
“Okay, baby,” he said, sliding off the loveseat and onto the floor. He knelt in front of Aurora. “Let’s establish a couple of things first, okay?”
She nodded, looking at him eagerly.
“Okay.” Bishop took another deep breath. “I know I’m old and out of touch and all of that, but you’re beautiful. Totally beautiful, whether you have Oliver Osburn or not. Okay?”
Aurora smiled, though her eyes kept leaking. “You just have to say that because you’re old and out of touch.”
“Not true,” Bishop said. “I just call it how I see it. Second, I’ve seen you and Ollie together, and that boy is completely head-over-heels for you. He doesn’t just like you a little bit, Aurora. He likes you a whole lot too.” He cut a glance at Montana. “A whole lot.”
“He still said yes to stupid Izzy.” The poison in Aurora’s voice almost made Montana smile. She possessed so much fire, and Montana hoped she’d learn to tame it into something that would help her in the wide world out there.
“That’s because he’s too nice,” Bishop said. “It doesn’t change how he feels about you. Now, he’s fifteen, so he might be a little confused right now. I know I was at that age. It sure is nice when you—” He cleared his throat and ducked his head. “When you find out someone likes you. You feel special, you know? My guess is he’s one of the very first at school to be asked to the Christmas Ball, and everyone’s talking about him now. He won’t know what to do with that, because he doesn’t think of himself as anyone to pay attention to.”
Montana hung on his every word, and Aurora did too.
“He might feel real special right now, and maybe a little arrogant. But that wears off mighty fast, and it doesn’t mean how he feels about you will change.”
“Maybe you just have to be patient,” Montana said, looking at Bishop and quickly changing her gaze to Aurora when he looked up at her. “And just be his friend or have him over here privately until the ball is over.” She reached over and tucked her daughter’s hair behind her ear. “Because Bishop is right. You’re beautiful, and he has no reason not to like you just because this Izzy girl asked him to one dance.”
Aurora studied Montana’s eyes and then dropped her gaze back to her hands. “I got upset with him when he told me he’d said yes. I maybe told him we shouldn’t hang out anymore.”
“Is that what we’re calling dating?” Bishop asked. “I just feel like I’m missing something. I hung out with friends. I dated girls.”
Montana smiled at him and nodded just as Aurora burst out laughing. It only sounded happy for a moment, and then she dissolved into tears again. “Yes,” she said through them. “That’s why I told you that boy at the mall was hanging out with Rachel. They’re a thing.”
“They’re dating,” Bishop said.
&nb
sp; “It’s not called that, but yes,” Aurora said. “They’re together, and everyone knows they’re together.” She shrugged and sobered again. “I guess I just thought everyone knew me and Ollie were a thing.”
“Maybe they do,” Montana said. “Maybe Izzy just isn’t a very nice person.”
“I think she’s just clueless,” Aurora said. “She doesn’t get how this stuff works.”
“At least I know more than someone,” Bishop quipped, and Montana had a hard time stifling her giggle. He wasn’t going to get off the hook for what he’d done, though, just because he could have a conversation with a teenager.
“When did this happen?” Montana asked.
“Yesterday. Last night,” Aurora said, glancing at Montana out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t freak out okay?”
“Uh, Aurora,” Bishop said. “You’re going to tell her now? She’s already mad at me.”
“I don’t keep secrets from my mom,” Aurora said. “Ollie’s going to be sixteen in another month, and his parents let him drive me home alone last night.”
“At midnight?” Montana was indeed, freaking out.
“He’s a good driver, Mom. He’s been driving tractors and stuff at the ranch forever.”
“I can attest to how good of drivers ranchers are by age ten,” Bishop said in a monotone. “But go ahead.”
“That’s the part you knew?” Montana asked.
“She told me at lunch. She didn’t think you’d be happy.”
“I am not happy.”
“He’s a good driver,” Aurora said.
“Okay, okay.” Montana held up her hand as in surrendering. “So he drove you home.”
“He told me about Izzy then, and that he said yes. We kind of argued in the truck. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. He doesn’t know either. Then, we get here, and he walks me up to the door and kisses me.”
She swallowed, but Montana knew her daughter was kissing Oliver Osburn, so she didn’t get the nerves.
“I see,” Bishop said. “He kissed you differently, and now it’s even more confusing as to what’s going on with the two of you, with him, with Izzy, and all of it.”
Aurora nodded. “It was a long kiss—don’t freak out, Mom.”
Montana’s stomach had clenched when Bishop had clarified the type of kiss. She tried to paint over everything with a smile. “I’m not freaking out.”
“She’s freaking out.” Aurora rolled her eyes and looked at Bishop.
“I can see that,” he said.
How he wasn’t a little freaked out by this conversation annoyed Montana. She told herself it was because Aurora wasn’t his flesh and blood, but she knew he cared about her. It was simply that he wasn’t a woman. He wasn’t a mother.
“What did you feel in the kiss?” Bishop asked, keeping his eyes on Montana.
“I don’t know,” Aurora said, shrugging again. “I guess if he’d have kissed me like that after the amazing night we’d had, without the argument and all the Izzy drama, I would think…I would….”
“Did he tell you he loved you?” Bishop asked.
Aurora shook her head. “No, but that’s how it felt.”
Bishop nodded. “Okay, so what we have here is a fifteen-year-old boy who really, really likes a girl. He’s never been in love before, and he doesn’t know how to say those words. He’s also really nice, and a super great person, even at fifteen, and so he doesn’t want anyone to get hurt. He’s going to learn a lot from this, namely that he can’t have everything all the time. If he wants you, and Aurora, he wants you. Once he realizes that, he’s going to have to concede the fact that he’s going to hurt someone else.”
“Maybe,” Aurora said.
“Not maybe,” Bishop said. “I’ve been a fifteen-year-old boy, baby. I know what’s going on in his head. I know he’s mostly ruled by hormones, but that he’s got adults in his life, talking in his ear and head all the time, telling him not to listen to his hormones but to act according to what he knows to be right. His mom, his step-dad, heck, probably his grandparents too. His uncles—every one of them is telling him how to act around girls. Every one of them has expectations for him. He doesn’t know which way is up right now, and once he figures it out, I can guarantee where he’ll be.”
“Where?” Aurora asked, her voice high and filled with emotion.
“On your front porch, baby, begging you to forgive him for being a fifteen-year-old boy with hormones and values and a ton of people that care about him.” He stood up, groaning as he did. “Dear Lord, I’m too old to kneel like that.”
Aurora laughed, this time the sound actually sounding and staying happy. She jumped to her feet and flung her arms around Bishop. “Thank you, Bishop.”
“Oh, sure,” he said, wrapping her up in those arms that Montana loved. “Be kind to him, Aurora. He’s doing the best he can.”
That was so not what Montana would’ve advised her daughter to do, and she was glad she wasn’t dealing with this alone.
“Okay.” Aurora stepped back and wiped her face. “I’m a mess. Can we do the rest of the fashion show later?”
“Of course,” Montana murmured.
“Thanks.” She started to walk away, but she turned back to them. “Bishop, is that why you took me shopping? To get my mom to forgive you?”
“No, baby,” he said. “She didn’t even find out about my treachery until after we’d gone shopping.”
“Can you fix it?” Aurora asked, and she threw a glance at Montana.
“I hope so,” Bishop said. “What I told you at lunch was—and still is—one hundred percent true.”
Montana stood up and looked at her daughter. “What did he tell you?”
Aurora smiled at Bishop. “She’ll forgive you.”
“You think so?” Bishop asked, glancing at Montana too. His eyes darted away before they’d really latched onto her though.
“Yeah,” Aurora said. “She’s in love with you too.” She went into the bathroom and gathered her bags while Montana sputtered.
“You told her?” she asked Bishop. It was really more of a demand and not a question.
His shoulders rose and fell before he turned around. “She asked me how I felt about you, and I felt it best to tell her the truth. I saw no reason to hide it from her. I’ve told you. I’ve told everyone who’ll stand still long enough to let me talk for longer than ten seconds.”
Montana’s pulse went back to the rapid-fire beat, and she really hated it.
“So I guess I just need to know if you think you can forgive me,” he said. He sighed in the next moment. “I’m not perfect, Montana, and I’m never going to be perfect. I did not intend to hurt you, and I’m sorry. That’s all I can say.”
Montana nodded. “Thank you for your apology.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Bishop’s frustration reached the boiling point and overflowed. “That’s all I’m going to get?” He knew how long it took Montana to forgive and give up the burdens she felt like she needed to carry, and the future he’d been planning vanished like the popping of a bubble.
There for a moment. Beautiful if the light caught on it just right.
Then pop! Gone.
Gone, with nothing left behind. Nothing to show for it.
“I’m trying to figure out what to do,” Montana said, sighing as she sank back to the couch. “I feel very much like how you just described Oliver. I want everyone to have everything. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Encouraged, Bishop sat back down too. “Tell me what else you want.”
“You know what I want,” she whispered.
“You interrupt me if I say something not on your list,” he said, clearing his throat. He touched one of his fingertips. “You want to be respected and known for your carpentry in the community, because you need a career you’re proud of and that pays your bills.”
She said nothing, and Bishop touched a second finger. “You want a house of your own.”
He
checked with her, and her eyes had started to glint with an emotion he couldn’t quite name. Could’ve been annoyance, or it could’ve been desire.
Third. “You want your daughter to be happy. You want your aunt and uncle to be happy.”
Still no objection.
“You want Micah Walker to know how talented you are. You want to deserve the work that comes your way, not have someone get it for you.”
His big mistake, and he hadn’t even known he was making it at the time.
“This is where I messed up,” he said. “Because you don’t need me. You don’t need me to get you jobs, and you don’t need me to buy your daughter school clothes.” A lump formed in his throat, because what she didn’t need or want from him was exactly what he wanted to do for her. To show her how much he wanted her to be happy.
“Let’s see,” he said, deciding to go for it. If he was going down in flames, he was going to go down fighting. “You want to be okay with God, so you’ve been working to release some of your negative feelings for others. You’ve been learning how to forgive yourself and others.”
She reached up and wiped her eyes, but she didn’t look away from him.
“You want to design our house. You want to build it with me. You want to get married in True Blue and have Uncle Bob walk you down the aisle. You want me to make dinner every night, and you’ll make that peanut butter bacon toast in the mornings.”
She sobbed then, her whole façade crumbling, but Bishop kept going.
“You want to have my children, because you’re in love with me, and I want children. You want me to be Aurora’s dad, so you don’t have to deal with situations like the one we just experienced alone.”
“Okay, stop it,” she said, still crying. She got up and took the few steps to him, settling onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around him and snuggled into his chest.
“One more,” Bishop whispered, his heart pounding that she’d come to him instead of demanding that he leave and never come back. “You simply want me.”
Montana didn’t object, and Bishop closed his eyes and held her tightly.
Finally, she said, “I also want to go wring that boy’s neck,” she said, her voice choked. “Just like I wanted to wring yours this morning. It doesn’t mean I love you any less.”