Beginnings

 

 

What happens if you break a deathbed promise? Anna mused, the pull of the Corvette's engine infusing her with a sense of daring.

The car growled over the music, happily consuming miles, bringing her closer to a decision she didn’t want to make. Checking the mirror, she caught sight of the luggage behind her. A frown creased her brow. Leave it to Wyoming weather to be so unpredictable you need to pack sweatshirts with shorts.

The strident voice of a car horn caused her to glance over at a cocky grin beneath expensive sunglasses. For several miles, she had toyed with the driver of the yellow Mustang, speeding up when he would draw even with her.

Those who knew Anna Sanchez didn't have a clue about this side of her. She floored the gas pedal with competitive glee as the powerful Vette surged ahead, effortlessly widening the gap. Gripping the steering wheel, she felt the car attached to the road like a magnet to steel. Again checking the rearview mirror, she noticed dark shadows under her eyes and the Mustang disappearing into a little dot behind her.

A smooth, mechanical voice spoke against the growl of the engine and beat of the music, "Make a right-hand turn at next exit." Confidently, she handled the power that shot the car onto the ramp, ignoring the forty-mile-an-hour sign.

Memories popped up as a slide show on a computer screen. Anna learned to drive early on her grandfather's tractor due to a farm permit--one positive to living in the country. But in her mind, there were more negatives than positives.

Anna's hands tightened on the wheel. Her grandmother, rotund and cheerful as she bustled about the kitchen, was the complete opposite of her glacial grandfather. He sat at the head of the table during quiet meals; his stern, eagle-eyed stare watched them chat, rarely joining the small talk

She rubbed her left temple. The last two years had been nothing but funerals and endings. Only her goal of completing college kept her going. Had it only been six months since Mom's passing?

The navigation system's voice broke into her reverie. "Take a left-hand turn in one-quarter of a mile." She knew the way to the ranch; the unit was on for the illusion of company. Anna slowed the Vette, rumbling over the metal bars that created a cattle guard to keep livestock from escaping to the highway. After the narrow drive cut around a low hill, a bunkhouse came into view. From there a small path traveled down to the traditional, two-story ranch house. It had two dormer windows above a white summer porch in the front. A ridge covered in scrub pine rose behind the home.

Further down the dirt road, a weathered but well-kept barn stood guard over the sloping pasture where several horses grazed. A dark-blue sedan sat parked in front of the porch. Two boys, with the exuberant energy of youth, raced around brandishing branches in Musketeer fashion.

A young woman stood on the porch, red-gold hair framing a welcoming smile. Two years older, Emily, her second cousin, filled the role of big sister. The Vette sighed as Anna flipped the ignition off. Jumping out of the car, she opened her arms wide, giving Emily a bear hug. Their laughter tinkled in the breeze.

"How was the drive?" She stepped back, looking Anna over.

"Fast today, but, of course, the mode of transportation does make a difference."

Emily raised an eyebrow as she gazed at the sleek sports car. "I guess so. When did you get a Corvette?"

"First of May. It probably seems extravagant for a school teacher, but it's my reward for graduating college while dealing with everything that has been going on the last few years."

"If anyone deserves it, you do. You haven't visited in forever, girl!"

Anna leaned in for another hug. "Thankfully, it's not for another funeral."

"Been tough with your mom gone, hasn't it?" Sympathy softened Emily's green eyes.

Words tumbled out, tears rising. "It's hard. I miss her so much. I'll think of something I want to tell her and suddenly remember she's gone."

 Emily wrapped an arm around Anna's shoulder, murmuring "I'm so sorry." They stood for a minute, leaning on each other. Anna drew a deep breath and stepped back, brushing away tears.

One little musketeer, with his brother hot on his heels, ran around the side of the porch. Emily reached out, snagged the bedraggled twig in one hand and his arm in the other. His brother recognized her intent to grab his branch next and moved away.

Anna leaned down and grabbed them both in a warm embrace.

"Oh, my, you boys are getting big! So, John, Matthew, how old are you now?" The boy closest to her, a skinny, strawberry blond, smiled at Anna.

"I'm eight, and Matthew is six."

"Already?" Anna shook her head.

"Auntie, when I get older, can I drive your car?"

Anna grinned. "We'll see. I'll give you both a ride later." She watched as Matthew circled the car, his eyes wide.

"Well, shall we check out the house?" Anna rummaged in her small purse and brought out clanking keys on a simple metal ring.

The worn key slipped easily into the brass door handle, turning with little effort. The musty smell of old inhabitation wafted out into the spring air. As if frozen in time Anna noticed tattered house slippers lay next to her grandfather's overstuffed chair. A newspaper dated October twelfth straddled the arm of the chair as if the occupant would be back any second to resume reading.

The chair's mate, a spindly wooden rocker, had an end table beside it. Small reading glasses and a worn Bible fought for space on the table. Anna's throat tightened as she remembered her grandparents sitting here in the evening.

She walked into the kitchen where dishes sat unwashed in the sink. The refrigerator hummed endlessly; the rooster clock on the yellowed wall still ticked off the moments as it had for years. She gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, her ribs feeling like they were collapsing, crushing her racing heart.

Emily had headed down the hall to scout out the rest of the house. Anna heard the bathroom door squeak open, a familiar sound. The boys scampered up the narrow staircase to the attic bedroom where Anna and Emily had spent many nights together. She pushed off from the counter and joined Emily in the room at the end of the hall; quickly glancing around noticing clothes laying over a chair; medication sitting on the nightstand, and the unmade bed. Anna had the distinct feeling she was intruding. She sighed. It was nothing new.

"I'll need to find someplace with moving boxes in town. Are any of the churches or secondhand stores taking donations?"

Emily pursed her lips. "Yes, the Methodist church, but a lot of this we'll have to throw out."

Anna nodded as she opened the closet. Antique boxes and old albums lined the top shelf. Well-worn clothing hung limply. She moved to the nightstand, absently opening the drawer. Next to a few odds and ends, she found a small, red, leather-bound book with the word 'diary' printed in faded, gold lettering. In her hand, the rustling pages gave off a slight rose odor, her grandmother's favorite perfume. She tucked the diary gently away.

Anna heard John yell. She stepped out onto the front porch to see the boy's backside as he lay on the weathered planks, peering over the edge. "I think I hear baby kittens under here. You can see where the momma cat squeezed under the boards. Eww, it stinks too."

She walked over, noting the bare earth: evidence of an animal going to and fro under the deck flooring.

Emily poked her head out. "Leave them alone. They got a momma somewhere around here. Don't disturb them. Where's your brother?"

John jumped up. "Matthew!" he hollered, running around the side of the house.

"Want to visit our old haunt?" Anna chuckled at Emily's glare.

"You know I hate those stairs. Especially how narrow they are since I'm older and much wider."

"Race you!" Anna pushed past Emily heading to the steep staircase to the attic bedroom, the old wood squeaking loudly under her steps. The spacious attic took up the entire upper level. The top of the stairs ended at the rear of the room.

It was her favorite place in the house. The old, pine floor sported a shiny glow. Two single beds, covered in Chenille bedspreads of aged white, sat under two gabled windows. Old pictures of family long-past decorated the walls. Red checkered curtains completed the Western decor. Anna gazed out the window, remembering the evening sunsets over the Wind River Mountains.

Her ribs now expanded easily to take in the musty air. Snapshots of childhood memories filled her mind. The nights they spent reading under the covers with a flashlight, Emily planning the next day's adventures and both of them giggling late into the night.

Emily's heavy footsteps thudded, her breathing labored as she got to the top of the stairway. Anna sat down on a bed, smiling.

"Gosh, girl, what a workout, and as always, you get the best bed. Think I'll crash here and take a nap."

Anna giggled, feeling young again.

"You know, I told you that you were going to marry Seth Higgins!"

Emily blushed, heaving a pillow at Anna, who gracefully ducked out of its flight path. Emily plopped down, the mattress squeaking in protest.

 "Yeah, well, we'll find a knight in shining armor for you yet."

"I'm perfectly happy being single, especially after the run-in with Miles."

Emily quickly changed the subject. "What are you going to do with the ranch?"

Anna lay back, gazing at the patterns on the ceiling. She rubbed at both temples for a second. Irritation tinged her voice. "You know, just when I'd finished going through Mom's things, I got the letter saying the probate period was over. I wanted a break after graduation. Instead, I get handed a cattle ranch. I only have eight weeks before I have to start my teaching job."

 A loud snort turned Anna's head. "Girl, I didn't think feeling sorry for yourself was one of the steps of the grieving process."

"Ergh," Anna growled, turning her face towards the wall. She'd come here looking for Emily's stalwart advice, grounded in country experience, but had forgotten her cousin's pragmatic side.

"You know, Emily, you have a brother to shoulder some of the responsibility should something happen to your parents. I have to handle all of it myself. It was supposed to be my mother's inheritance, not mine. And by the way, anger is one of the steps of grieving." She turned back to face her cousin, waiting.

Emily grabbed another pillow off the bed, hugging it, studying the homemade throw rug on the floor. "You're right: got to be hard to handle this, but you're not alone. We're your family too."

Anna sighed. Emily had a point. Aunt Evelyn and Uncle George was the closest thing she had to parents now. In the brief silence, the house creaked with age.

"I know, you've all been wonderful. Thank you. Just hard to believe this ended up being mine." Anna stared at the ceiling again. "I've thought about selling the herd to Herman Miller. He already has time and money invested in them. I haven't the faintest idea how to run a cattle ranch. The only contact I want with a cow is on my plate. I just need a break to think this through."

"Well, you don't have much time. You've got a herd that needs branding, vetted and moved to summer range. A cattle ranch is a business; it waits for no one."

Anna sat up, smoothing the bedspread. "By the way, how's your dad doing?"

"Grumbling about the good old days and driving Mom nuts. He healed well from the hip replacement and is moving around okay. He'd help you out with this. He grew up in the business. He could give you pointers, or advice--whatever you need."

Anna flashed an irritated glance at Emily. "Yeah, I can use all the advice I can get."

"How come you promised your mom you'd keep it?"

"I promised Mom I wouldn't sell it; I didn't say anything about leasing it or letting it sit. I wanted to make her feel better. I've no desire to move here. I'd never live in the country where it's a forty-minute drive to get anywhere remotely civilized. No malls, shopping, restaurants or coffee shops."

Emily snorted again. "There's more to life than malls and the latest fashion." She had her head cocked to the side, her green eyes serious. She reminded Anna of a bird listening for a worm. "You're the modern little city mouse, I see. I guess that makes me the country mouse."

"Oh yeah, a country mouse all right! I remember you always knew what the latest fashion was,"' Anna shot back, hefting the pillow at her for emphasis.

Emily caught the fluffy, airborne missile. "It's a heritage thing, girl." Her tone was gruff. "This is one of the original homesteads in the county, with a rich history. You grew up in the city; you don't understand roots, knowing where you come from, and the struggles to get there. You can't let it sit; the buildings need constant repair. The cattle should be your first concern right now." She shrugged irritably. "But sell if you want to. Instead of looking at this as a curse, see it for the blessing it can be. I don't think your mom would come back and haunt you if you sold it. Herman would take it in a second. You got prime grazing land, a natural spring, and BLM leases going way back. Uncle John worked hard to have the best. His cattle always brought top dollar. You couldn't find a better stockman."

Anna jumped up and started pacing, causing the floorboards to squeak. "I understand family history, it's just Mom's request surprised me. I thought she hated this place." Her hands swept the air in agitated punctuation. "She always seemed reluctant to come here and visit."

"Well, I'm sure that was because she thought she had let your grandfather down. Being their only child and running off with your father created some hard feelings. I know your grandfather hoped she would marry a local guy and take over the ranch. But your mom was a city mouse too."

Anna sighed, stopping in front of Emily, crossing her arms. "You're probably right. Mom and Grandpa didn't talk a lot about the past. She had a good relationship with Grandma, though. It broke Mom's heart when she passed away." Brusquely she turned, "Can you help me do a walk-through and check to see if everything is working?"

"Sure. Just give me time to get back down those stairs."

Anna started in the kitchen, having noted earlier the bowed floor in front of the sink. When she turned on the faucet, it emitted an alien squeal until a rusty-brown torrent ran out. Picking up a pen and pad from the counter, she started writing. An hour later, Emily and Anna met up outside to compare lists.

"Okay, we need new flooring in the kitchen and laundry room, the porch has a hole, the outside could use some paint. I'm not getting any water running in the bathroom sink; two light switches aren't working, and every room needs a good paint job. I think the water pump needs to be checked too.”

Emily nodded, still scratching down notes. "Okay, well the inside of the barn is in better condition than the house. There's fence work out in the pasture, and some shingles are missing on the barn roof. Bunkhouse is musty, needs cleaning, but is in good order. If you're thinking of selling, I have the number of someone who can come out and give you a pre-sale walk-through. Several handymen hire out at the local hardware store if you need help."

Anna nodded. "I'll start tomorrow. Any place good to eat in town?"

"So you're still planning on staying out here by yourself? You're crazy. I'm willing to hang out and help."

She shook her head. "I'm grateful, but I already owe too many people."

"Girl, you've always been hard-headed and by the way, Herman would like to go over the accounting with you. He suggested after the potluck tomorrow at church."

"You know if Herman hadn't stepped up last October to take care of the herd, I don't know what I would've done. How many head did Grandpa run?"

"Over two hundred and you need to figure the feeding, vetting, and the calves delivered this spring too. If you're planning on selling the herd, I'm sure he'll subtract it from the total cost."

"And you call me stubborn? At his age, what was Grandpa thinking to run a herd that big with no one but himself?" Anna fumed.

Emily pushed her lips together, silence her only response.

 "So you didn't answer my question on places to eat."

"Well, they're having a street dance tonight in town, and there'll be food there. So here's a chance to get that break you wanted."

Emily's poker face didn't fool Anna. She sighed. "You're rotten. Let's go."

 

>>>>> 

 

Built around the train depot, the town of Lander hadn't changed much. A fair share of booms and busts had come and gone. Cattle ranching, farming, steel industry, mineral mining, oil, and other various industries had all helped build the quaint, little town. Main Street boasted of architecture from the late 1800s. One block festooned with orange cones re-directed traffic as people milled in the street. Anna caught a glimpse of a park filled with vendor's colorful tents.

Emily parked the aging sedan in front of someone's little, cottage-style home. Getting out, Anna caught the sweet odor of the lilac's spring debut. Band music traveled softly in the warm air.

Emily proceeded to introduce Anna to different people in the crowd. Who doesn't she know? Anna thought, as she shook hands with friendly townsfolk dressed in jeans, which seemed to be the dress code. They ducked and jostled through the thick crowd in the little block until they spotted Emily's short and portly husband, Seth, doing a balancing act with three cups.

"How are you doing, Anna? So good to see you," Seth said, handing her a plastic cup, wet with condensation. She glanced at the soda swirling darkly around ice cubes. Seth had remembered her dislike of alcohol.

"I'm checking out the band. Richard Crowley's son is playing tonight, and I'm saying hi. Want to come along?" Emily offered.

"No, I'm going to wander around. You go on without me."

Emily nodded and disappeared into the crowd with kids and husband in tow. Anna started up the street to check out the window of a jewelry store.

Rowdy voices rang in Anna's ear as a heavyset man with a sweat-stained cowboy hat stumbled back, knocking into her. The drink fell from her hand as she started to fall until two hands clamped around her upper arms in an iron grip. She gasped at the touch. Panic pushed her heart into flight. She twisted to pull away from the imprisoning grasp. The hands immediately let go. She turned to face her rescuer.

Frowning, he asked, "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Blushing, she quickly looked away. His voice had a pleasant timbre that she instantly liked, and his hazel-eyed gaze was direct.

He veered off to the left, shouting into the milling mass, "Hey Tim, watch out. You almost ran over the little lady here." He headed in the direction of the offending subject, who raised his beer in acknowledgment. Anna crossed her arms over her heaving chest. She needed to escape. Her eyes caught an opening in front of the local movie theater, and she headed there. In the little bubble of space, she watched people passing by, taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. He hadn't been half-bad looking, but his touch brought back a face from the past. Trying to find something else to occupy her mind, she looked around until she saw Emily across the street at a food vendor's stand.

A gentle breeze brought the seasoned smell of beer-brats cooking, and her stomach reminded her six hours had passed since lunch. Joining Emily, she bought one of the plump, shiny brats. Adding a dollop of mustard, she enjoyed the satisfying pop of the tough skin as her teeth sunk in, releasing a flood of flavor.

Wiping her mouth after the last morsel, she heard Emily speak behind her.

"Hey Anna, this is Steve Johnson."

She turned around, mouth full, holding up one finger while she chewed furiously. Emily continued, "He's the son of Jack Johnson, owner of the hardware store in town. He'd know of any handymen needing work." She appeared smug at finding a work hand.

Catching Steve's bemused expression, Anna looked down and quickly wiped her mouth again. She noticed his weathered cowboy boots sticking out from under his faded jeans. Great, a red-necked cowboy type, derisively skimmed across her mind. Anna glanced up, noticing his confident smile created little crinkles at the corners of his eyes. "Oh, Steve, right? Uh, thank you for your help earlier."

Emily smiled impishly. "You've already met Steve? What did he help you with?"

Anna glanced at her overly observant cousin with irritation.

Nonchalantly, Steve interjected, "Tim never looks where he’s going. I’m always picking up after him.” He ran his fingers through his unruly hair. “So really, it was no problem. What type of job do you need done?"

Anna spoke quickly, "I recently inherited my grandfather's property, and it needs some fixing up…possibly to sell."

He nodded. "Give me your number and I'll get back to you on our schedule. What kind of repairs?'

She opened her purse, pulling out a slip of paper to write on, relieved not to have to make eye contact. "I'll just list them for you. Also, if you know anyone who does ranch work, like fencing, I would appreciate their names." She handed him the note, looking up quickly, with a curt nod. "Again, thank you."

His lips turned up in a slight smile, but she slid her gaze to the band and stepped away, dismissing him. Behind her, she overheard him talking to Emily.

"Thanks, Emily: can always use the work. How's your dad doing?" Steve and Emily walked a little farther into the crowd, catching up with Seth and the boys, sharing neighborly information. Anna kept her distance as she followed behind, glad not to be the center of his attention. He said goodbye to Emily, glancing back at her. Staring intently for a brief second, he turned, disappearing into the throng. As the multitude began to thin, the band shifted into slower tempos and Seth's princely bow to Emily caught Anna's attention.

 "Well, my darling, would you care to dance with me?" Seth extended his beefy hand towards his wife. Anna chuckled as Seth pulled Emily into a country swing. She moved gracefully, despite her portly size, around her balding little husband.

The sun disappeared over the mountains, and the lavender hues of dusk began to settle. Matthew tugged at Anna's hand. "Stay with us, Auntie. You can sleep in my room! We are going to camp outside tonight. Please." Anna smiled down at his pleading face.

"If you don't go back to the ranch tonight, we'll stay later," Emily added breathlessly, joining her. "I can take you out after church in the morning and pick up those boxes you need."

Oh, what will it hurt? Anna thought. It will be better than being all alone with the family ghosts tonight.

"Okay, sounds good. Let's find some ice cream," she said to Matthew, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

"Be on the lookout for Rob Miller. I ran into him when I visited the band. He asked about you and wanted a dance with you." A mischievous giggle escaped Emily.

Anna groaned. "For heaven's sake, Emily, I can't deal with any more cowboys tonight!"

Expectations

Steve Johnson’s eyes were closed while his mind shook off the night’s slumber. The floor squeaked as something moved across it. He smiled, waiting for the stalker to pounce, a girlish giggle his only warning. His arms caught the awkward bundle as it landed on his chest.

Affectionately, he growled, “Grr,” rolling to his side. The adoring, blue eyes of his sister stared at him as he kept her caged in his arms.

“Morning, pipsqueak,” he said, chuckling.

Chelsea squealed, “You’re faking it! You weren’t sleeping!”

“You’ll never know!” He started tickling her.

She squinted, laughing, gasping for air, trying to pull away from his grip, kicking wildly. When he released her, she scrambled for the other side of the bed.

“Don’t forget you’re supposed to go watch me at the horse show today. I’m doing Model, Showmanship and Trail. You promised!” Chelsea shook her finger at him.

As his sister scooted back to his side, he felt a pang of guilt. In the past, his drinking had created many broken promises. “Okay, pipsqueak, I wouldn’t miss you falling off for nothing!”

Chelsea giggled. “I’m not going to fall off my horse.”

He smiled.  Corky, his sister’s Appaloosa, reminded him of a fat sausage on four legs. “Go help Mom; I got to get ready for work.” He tousled her static-filled blond hair. She jumped on his chest, sliding to the floor, laughing at the grunt she received for her acrobatics.

A half-hour later Steve walked into the kitchen. “Morning, Mom. You don’t have to send Chelsea to wake me up. I had the alarm set.”

The petite woman at the kitchen sink smiled at him over her shoulder. “It saves us from listening to your alarm trying to wake you up. Chelsea is much more effective.”

Steve grinned, pouring himself a cup of coffee. The clamorous blast of a car horn interrupted his first sip. “Gotta go, see you later.”

Jumping into the truck, he greeted his brother. “Morning, Brad.”

Brad nodded stiffly, putting the truck in reverse to back up.

“So what are you doing here so early?”

Brad jerked the shifter into drive and threw back brusquely, “Just giving you a ride to work. So how long before you get to apply for your license again?”

“About two weeks,” Steve ground out. He stared out the window, hating that he had to depend on others for a ride while waiting to get his driving privileges back. An invisible wall of tense silence sat between them until his brother parked next to the service entrance at the back of their father’s hardware store.  They’d not always been at odds with each other. Walking between the neatly stocked shelves he remembered running Match Box car races with his brother down the shiny aisles.

“Good morning, boys,” a dark-haired beauty called from the register. Her pink lips framed snowy teeth in a beauty queen smile. “Mr. Kagen called. He needs those fence posts as soon as you can get out to him.”

Steve stiffened, turning his back on the girl. It was hard enough working for his brother, but the ex-girlfriend made it almost intolerable. He noticed his coworker and friend, Mike, sauntering out of the employee lounge, a cup of steaming coffee in hand.

Steve turned back to Brad. “I have a potential repair job for a lady Emily Higgins introduced me to this weekend. She inherited the Hanson ranch, and needs help on some projects.”

“Yeah, Dad and I can cover the store and Mike can drive you out there,” he said gruffly, not looking up from the clipboard he held.

Mike headed to a pegboard, which was covered in notes and key rings, on the wall behind the register. “Mary Beth, where are the keys to the Junk Heap?”

“Oh, didn’t Brad tell you? They traded it in yesterday on a new delivery truck.”

Mike groaned. “But I liked the Junk Heap! I didn’t have to worry about scratches and dings!”

Laughing, Brad cut in, “No, you just liked the break you got sitting on the side of the road waiting for someone to rescue you when it broke down! Just take the silver Chevy today. It’s already hooked up to the trailer.”

“I need to give....” Steve searched his back pocket for the paper with the number. “Okay, I need to call Anna, and see if we can go out there this afternoon for an estimate. I think we can do the morning delivery run with no problem. Let me schedule her in for one o’clock. That will give us time for lunch and I’ll have time to get over to Riverton and watch Chelsea.”

“Well, no rest for the wicked. Let’s get loaded up.” Mike took a quick sip of his coffee and headed for the back with Steve right behind him.

With the delivery completed and lunch over, they headed to the Hanson Ranch that was well-known in town, being one of the older homesteads in the Lander area.

“What’s that gal going to do with the ranch? I heard it’s a pretty big spread, and she’s just a kid.”

Steve shook his head. “I met her last Friday night and she’s no kid. Kind of stand-offish. Tim Langer about squashed her at the street dance.”

“Well, folks from the big city are more reserved. She’s from Denver, isn’t she?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Mike smiled wickedly. “You should ask her out! Just think: you could marry into a cattle ranch!”

“I don’t think so, dirtbag.”

As they turned onto the gravel road and rounded the hill, Mike’s eyes grew wide. A sleek, plum-colored sports car sat in front of the ranch house. “There’s something you don’t see at many ranches.”

Steve had to agree, staring with envy at the Corvette with its unusual color and aerodynamic lines. “Yeah, she’s got some seriously good taste in that ride.”

“I’d like to take it for a spin.”

“You and me both, man.”

“What year is it? Do you know?”

“It’s a C5 model with older chrome wheels so it has to be somewhere between a 1997 or 1999.”

As Mike came to a stop, Steve grabbed a clipboard and jumped out for a closer look.  He glanced up as the owner came around the side of the porch where she’d been working. He had to stifle his urge to laugh.

She was quite a sight, not the well-groomed city girl he’d met at the street dance. He remembered her startled, blues eyes staring at him when he had caught her, and then her coolness as she pulled away from him. Right now he was facing a whole different creature.

 

*****

 

Listening to the meadow lark’s morning trill, Anna poured her routine cup of coffee. She sat down at the kitchen table and started turning the frail pages of a photo album. A musty old-paper odor rose from cracked and faded pictures reflecting a black-and-white world. Precious few were the photos of her grandfather’s childhood years. One showed him padded in many layers, standing next to a snowdrift that towered above him and the porch. His graduation picture showed a proud, young man leaning against an outdated truck. All moments caught in time but never talked about or shared.

Abruptly, she closed the album, pushing it away and putting her head in her hands.  The only father figure I had in my life and he was a workaholic.  She remembered the disappointment in his eyes when she’d fail at things he tried to teach her on the ranch. Anna craved a grandfather that looked at her with pride, hugged and cuddled with her.  Instead, she got one who hardly ever spoke, except to correct her. 

Pushing away from the table, she decided to take a break from the cleaning and the past.  Fresh air would be good and the lilacs needed trimming. Stepping out onto the porch, a musky odor caused her to catch her breath. Moving over to the large hole in the porch, she peered in, seeing nothing but cobwebs and dark dirt below. Where’s it coming from? I’ll have the handyman check for broken pipes. Though she never saw the stray cat, the food scraps she left out disappeared every day. I’ll have to get the kittens out of there before we do the repairs.

Gathering up gardening tools, she headed for the side of the house. The drone of a motor and crunch of gravel alerted Anna to an approaching vehicle. She backed out from under the lilac bush, aware of how ungainly it must have looked to any onlookers. She felt a blush spread to her cheeks as she walked up to the porch.  The sign on the side of the silver truck door announced the arrival of help. Catching sight of Steve as he admired the car, she called out, “Hello.”

He looked up, a rakish smile crinkling the edges of his hazel eyes. “Uh, hi there. Remember me, Steve, from Johnson’s Hardware?”

“Yes, I do.” Anna nervously rubbed the dirt off her hands and onto her jeans before shaking the hand he held out.

He looked back at the car, still admiring it. “I’ll bet it’s got a three-fifty cubic inch engine, with over three hundred horsepower. What’s the fastest you’ve had it up to?”

It was Anna’s turn to smile, her eyes lighting with excitement. “You’re right. It’s a 1998 Coupe and on the straightaway, would you believe one twenty-five?”

 Steve shot an appreciative glance at her, and then looked quickly down at the clipboard, his voice catching, shoulders shaking a little. “That’s awesome! Well, you need us to look at the porch, kitchen floor…uh.” He avoided eye contact, the smile now a full-blown grin as if he was trying to suppress a laugh as he looked towards the front door.

A slight frown creased Anna’s forehead. He hadn’t been so jovial at the street dance and she couldn’t figure out what he found so amusing about her car. “Why don’t you start with the kitchen first?” she said, heading for the door. Another tall man had joined them from the other side of the truck, and as she glanced at his tanned face, she found him silently laughing too.

Anna didn’t even wait for an introduction, hurriedly leading them into the house. As they walked past an antique mirror on the wall, she felt lean fingers gently grab her shoulders, turning her face to the mirror while Steve, chuckling, said in her ear, “Ma’am, you might want to spruce up.”

She tensed first at his touch, and then at the picture of herself framed there. Cobwebs, leaves and unknown debris was scattered through her mussed, brunette tresses. It was as if she had used her hair to dust under the porch. A quick “OH” escaped as she made a dash for the bathroom down the hall.  Over her shoulder, she called out to them to make themselves at home in the kitchen. Anna heard subdued snorts of laughter behind her.

In the quiet of the bathroom, Anna quickly brushed all traces of the lilac bush adventure out of her thick hair, knowing the bright red blush was going to take some time to leave her face.

 Of all people, why did it have to be him to see me like that? Smoothing and tucking, she took a big breath, gathering what was left of her pride and trying to slow her pounding heart.

“Thank you so much,” she said calmly to the two men, as they eyed the dilapidated floor.

Steve looked up with an impish smile as he introduced his partner. “No problem, ma’am. This is Mike Tanner and he’ll be working with me. We have to replace this floor. This is all rotted, and no telling what is under it. I’m assuming there isn’t a basement?”

Anna quickly slipped into a business-like tone. “You’re correct: no basement, but you can get into the crawl space out back.”

Mike produced a stunning, white smile against his darkly tanned face and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you. Do you mind if I call you Anna?”

“No, not at all,” Anna said, smiling back. She noticed his wide hand and gentle grip as she shook it.

Steve retracted the tape measure, putting it on the counter, knocking over a stack of letters perched there. He bent down to retrieve them, staring at the corner of a large white envelope with the return address of the Colorado Bureau of Corrections and Parole boldly stamped there.

Anna quickly crossed the small kitchen, taking the mail from him, noting that his brows pulled together slightly as he stared at her.  I bet he’s dying to ask me what that’s all about. She shoved the worrisome envelope in a kitchen drawer.

“Well, let’s see what we have in the laundry room, shall we?” Steve’s tone was light, his face devoid of any emotion.

Mike followed Steve into the laundry room, glancing back, giving her another smile. She observed Mike walked with a solid, sure step; Steve was lithe in his movements.

Steve pulled out the washing machine to view the flooring, and again, dry, slivered wood showed between the patches of worn linoleum.

“I’m afraid you have more flooring problems,” Mike noted. “Are you staying here?”

“Yes, I am.”

“We can work around your schedule. I’ll have to turn off the water and the electricity here and there,” Mike continued.

“I understand. That will be fine. If need be, I can always stay with my cousin.”

They all moved on to the bathroom.  She watched as Mike opened the sink cabinet, crouching down, tapping on the old, rusted pipes.

 Steve worked to loosen the light plate.  He looked at her briefly. “So, you don’t want to be a rancher?”

 “No, I don’t.  When I get this place fixed up, I’m probably going to put it up for sale.”

“That’s too bad,” he said softly. “You know this is one of the last original homesteads in the area? Been in your family for how long now?”

Anna shrugged, looking away, uncomfortable again. How did she explain there was no attachment to the ranch? It held no meaning or pride as it had for her grandfather and mother. It was a burden, bringing back unsettling memories.

Steve changed the subject. “Your light switch needs wiring work; you noted a second one out. Which room?”

She gestured towards the bedroom at the end of the hall, now devoid of any personal items of her grandparents’, the bed and mattress looking old and stripped, the walls dingy.

He glanced around the room and then removed the light switch plate.  “You know, I helped Herman this spring with the herd. You have some wonderful grazing land and a robust herd of Angus.”

“Yeah, and there’re some soft landing spots out there when you fall off your horse too,” Mike said behind her. 

Steve shot him an irritable look. “Yeah, that’s what happens when Corky hasn’t been ridden all winter. He had a little spring fever and felt like bucking. Stubborn horse.”

Smiling, she decided not to pry further into what sounded like an embarrassing moment for Steve. “You know, I could use some help again next week if you are interested. Herman is arranging a branding crew so we can get the calves ready to push out on to the summer range.”

His eyes crinkled with his grin.  “Yeah, that’d be great. I like working cattle. It’ll give Corky some exercise too. Count me in.

Her heart lurched at his smile. Darn, he’s actually good looking.

He moved on, tapping on the walls and tracking the wiring as Mike wrote the location of studs on the clipboard.

“I know of a really good electrician in town. He’ll have to do this job, I’m afraid I can only do the carpentry work,” Steve remarked.

Anna nodded, and then looked away, not wanting him to catch her staring at him. She noticed he was tall, having to lean his head down just a little to look into her eyes. A slight odor of clean, washed laundry hung in the air when he moved about.

Steve walked out to the porch, appraising and measuring, and Anna followed him.

“If you need help holding the tape measure, I’d be happy to help.”

Steve extended the metal end of the tape towards her. “I didn’t mean to pry into your business.  I was just curious about what you might want to do with a ranch. That way I can get the rumors started on the right track.”

A hint of a smile appeared as Anna turned her gaze out towards the barn. “I bet the rumors are flying.”

“Well, I’m done here. You say the crawl space entry is at the back of the house, right?”

She nodded.  Steve stepped down off the porch and started around the lilac bush to the left, on the side opposite to where Anna had been working. Before she could warn him, two things happened simultaneously. His foot sunk to the ankle in mud that was more water than dirt, and the black-and-white stray she had been feeding decided to shoot out from under the porch.

 “Skunk!” he hollered as he tried to get his feet to move in the muck. Sliding, he couldn’t get his footing, going down with a wet plunk. Anna’s hands flew to her mouth. Mike stepped out in time to see the last of his partner’s ungraceful plop. His loud laughter pealed out, helping to deepen the thunderous look that flashed across Steve’s face.

“Oh, I was going to warn you about the mud!” she gasped. “Let me get you some towels.” Anna ran into the house while Mike helped his partner up. She threw the towel at the mud-covered Steve and then ran around the house for the water hose. They went to work rinsing the mud off of him.

“I’m so sorry. Did the cat scare you?” Anna asked.  Steve gave her a hard look as Mike chuckled.

“Ma’am, that was no cat. That there was a skunk!” Anna looked at him puzzled.

“Where does your septic system drain?” Steve asked suspiciously, sending Mike into another spasm of laughter.

“Septic system? What’s that?” Anna queried.

Steve’s eyebrow shot up. “Lady, it’s where all your sewer water drains to, you know, like the bath water, washing machine, and the toilet.”

“Well, doesn’t it go into the sewer pipes? Is that what you’re asking?”

Steve’s jaw tightened, eyebrows pulling into a thunderous cloud. “Ma’am, I think that you’ve some plumbing problems, right?  Slow drains?”

Anna didn’t like his “ma’ams” and “lady.” She didn’t like the feeling of being uninformed either. She prided herself on being knowledgeable.

Flipping her hair over one shoulder, she stubbornly lifted her chin. “Yes, the drains have been moving slowly, especially after I did about eight loads of laundry to catch up on all the linen in the house. Why?”

Steve’s face turned an unusual shade of red. “Ma’am, if you don’t mind, do you have any clean clothes I might borrow?”

“Yes, yes,” she answered quickly. Tears were running down Mike’s face as she ran into the house, feeling the blush of embarrassment heating her face.

She tore through the plastic bags holding her grandfather’s jeans, finding a fairly new-looking pair, praying they would fit. Then she found a checkered-blue, short-sleeved shirt. She put them in the bathroom and ran back out onto the porch.

Steve was finished hosing everything off and Mike had disappeared around the house to shut off the water.

“Please, come change in the bathroom,” she offered while holding the screen door open. Steve still looked unhappy, walking with a squishing sound across the living room. She followed, frustrated, not knowing how this situation had gotten so out of hand.

“It’s okay. I’ll be out in a second.” His tone was resigned.

Anxiously, Anna stepped back out to the porch. “Please, can you explain what a septic system is?”

“Sure,” Mike answered pleasantly. “Unlike in the city where all the sewage is taken by pipe to the processing plant, rural sewage is taken by pipe to a distance from the house. There, a perforated holding tank under the ground allows the water to seep into the ground around it. Bacteria works to break down the solid waste, but sometimes you need to have them pumped if they haven’t been active for a while. I would say due to the slope of the ground, your septic system is here in the front yard. From the looks of it, it needs some help.”

Again, she felt the aversion of living in the country knot her stomach.  How uncouth of a system. “What do I need to do?”

Mike flashed his stunning smile again. “I’ll give you the number of my cousin’s sewage service and he’ll come out and pump it and let you know if there is anything else you have to do. By the way, do you have many friends here?”

Anna observed he had deep-brown eyes and a bass timbre to his voice. “Oh, I know a few people.  But living out here in the country limited my social contacts during the summer if you know what I mean.”

Mike nodded in agreement. “So you aren’t afraid to stay out here all alone?”

“No, I’m really a loner at heart.  Being an only child taught me how to entertain myself,” Anna said with a shrug. “Besides, I’m an excellent shot.”

He gave a nervous chuckle, shifted his weight, and thrust his hands in his jean’s pockets, looking down. “Well, if you get scared, or want to ever do anything, you could call me.”

She glanced at him quizzically.  He was handsome in a dark way. Thick, jet-black hair, strong features, and a trim frame revealed a hardworking lifestyle.

“Thank you. That’s really sweet.”

His face lit up with the excitement of hope. “Here’s my phone number. Call any time.” He handed her a business card.

Inside, Anna heard the bathroom door squeak. Steve came out onto the porch looking like a farmhand, the jeans and shirt a little baggy.

 “Thanks, and if you have a plastic bag, I’ll take those wet clothes out of the bathtub.”

Anna quickly retrieved one for him, fumbling with the opening, feeling self-conscious. Steve reached for it, taking it from her. “Here, let me.”

Following him to the truck after he retrieved his clothes, she tried again to apologize.

“It’s okay. Thank you for the loan of the clothes. I have your number. I’ll call you with an estimate as soon as I can. Give me a date and time on the cattle ride and I’ll be out. Thank you for your business,” Steve said curtly, swinging the plastic bag over the side of the truck and getting in.

Mike grinned and held out his hand. “Looking forward to working with you. It was nice to meet you.”

Anna took his hand into both of hers.  “Thank you for coming out.  I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” 

His deep laugh rang out. He bent close to her ear. “It was worth it just to see that look on his face!”

He swung into the driver’s side, Steve scowling at him from the passenger side.

Anna watched them drive out of view, conflicting emotions stirring.

 

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Impressum

Texte: Robynn Gabel
Bildmaterialien: No Sweat Graphics
Lektorat: Chryse Wymer
Satz: Tri-Swan Publishing, LLC
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 12.04.2013

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Widmung:
For My Husband and Love of my Life, Darrell.