True North (Rosewood Ranch #4)

Prologue – Spring of 1972

Prologue

HARRY

SPRING OF 1972

T he velvet teat rolls through my hands, one after the other. The milk hits the steel bucket with a ping. I can’t hear it, but I know it does. “Burning Love” blasts through my headphones, the Zenith portable radio Ma bought me for my eighteenth birthday last month hangs from my worn jeans. The sun is just now comin’ up. The birds no doubt starting their squawkin’ as the small herd of Friesian cows mill over their fresh hay on the other side of the pen.

I nod to the tune.

The old milkin’ cow shifts her feet. I pay her a glance, watching the bucket. Hell, girl, don’t kick it over. Not again. Losing milk isn’t an option. I wait for her to settle, hand tight over the rim of the bucket. She swishes her tail, slapping me in the face, before dropping her head into the feed trough.

“Steady, Mabes.”

I take up my earlier rhythm, coaxing hot, frothy milk from her. Mable’s udder is full—should get a half a bucket, I reckon. I relax as my song fades out and something grungy starts up.

Nice.

I return to nodding my head with the beat, letting my hands carry the same tune as the milk fills the bucket between my feet. I pause, turnin’ up the volume. How is it songs can put you in a mood? This one makes me happy, excited. I let my thoughts wander to today and what it holds.

Prom.

Taking Lou, more specifically, to her prom. Dancin’ never interested me, but she loves it.

I need it to go well. For the last part of the night.

The old cow lifts her head. I turn, too slow, to find what she’s lookin’ at. My old man’s hand slams up the back of my head. The headphones fly onto the hay-littered ground. Stars creep into my peripherals. I jerk on the small wooden stool and shake it off.

Fuck.

I ignore him, setting my gaze on the udder in front of me. I can smell the booze from here. He never came home last night. So his mood tracks.

Lousy, damn ? —

“Answer me, you useless good-for-nothin’!”

My hands freeze on the teats. I suppress the urge to strangle them between my palms in my wrath, but this old girl doesn’t deserve that.

“Missed the question, sir.”

“Ha. Sir, if you didn’t walk around with your head in the goddamn clouds, Harrison, you would have half a clue what’s goin’ on ’round here.”

I’m not going to bite.

Nope, not doing it.

“I didn’t hear you.” Stupid response, sure, but I can’t answer a question I didn’t catch.

“You shifted those bales? Weather’s comin’ in.”

“I’ll do it next.”

“I’ll do it next, what?”

“Do it next, sir.”

“Better. I swear, boy, you are one useless son of a bitch.” He wanders off, tripping over his own feet. My blood boils with the words he uses about Ma. I can’t wait ’til the day I take her away from here. Find somewhere to make an actual home. Ma, Lou, and me. That old asshole can drown in his own liquor for all I care.

I pluck the headphones from the ground before Mable treads on them. Ma saved for months to gift me one birthday present. She should have kept the money for herself. But she’s always looking out for her only child. One day, I will make damn sure every sacrifice she made for me in the last eighteen years is rewarded. Tenfold. Because it will be a cold day in hell when I turn out like my old man.

When each pass over the teats only produces a slow dribble, I grab the bucket and give Mabes a rub on the neck. I shift the stool onto the small rack overhead and untie her lead from the bar by the feed trough. She chews away, oblivious to the world, as I shut the gate behind me and head for the house.

A small two-bedroom weatherboard house with wood stumps sits in the center of the front yard, all that separates our small allotment from the road that leads into Lewistown. I walk up the back steps, careful with the old screen door. Taking my boots off, I carry the pail to the kitchen. No sign of the alcoholic, and I smile when I find Ma setting the table for breakfast. Lucky to make five-eight, her dark hair is twisted and pinned up, a little silver in the mix. Her fine features carry a weathering of fine lines. But her eyes carry more life than they should, considering the sorry existence we make do under.

“Mornin’, Ma.” I lean over, dotting a kiss to her hair before dumping the bucket on the small kitchen counter that is the centerpiece of this tiny kitchen.

“Mornin’, love. How’s Mabes?” She shakes a tablecloth out and watches it settle. With slow, quiet steps—that I’m sure she learned from needin’ to keep outta the old man’s way—she opens the china cabinet, sliding out two plates for breakfast.

“Two?” I ask. The eggshells we both walk on grind in my throat.

“Your father is asleep on the front porch.”

“He can damn well stay there,” I mutter. I hope he passes out for the rest of the day. God forbid he be sober tonight. I need it to go perfect. I’m not dealin’ with him. Over my dead body is he gettin’ anywhere near Lou.

“Grab the bacon and eggs, will you?” Ma asks. Her hands shake as she rests the plates on the table. A lifetime of the stress of living with the man who makes our lives hell most days of the week, now taken its toll. And I fuckin’ hate it.

What I wouldn’t do to change that for her.

I do what I can. Get between them when he’s in a particularly bad mood. He’s outta luck these days. I’m bigger than him. Stronger from carryin’ the workload of two men. Last time he took a swing at me, he missed and fell on his ass. I didn’t bother helpin’ him up. Despite Ma’s pleas for me to take care of him.

“Harry, those eggs are goin’ to go cold quick.”

“Shit, sorry, Ma.”

“Language, my boy.” She scolds me with a small frown. Even her discipline is gentle. How she ever ended up with Eddy Rawlins is beyond me. I thank my lucky stars every day that I take after my mother’s likeness, personality, and features. I bring the food to the table and sit on my side as she sinks into her seat. Her thin hand brushes her dark hair over her forehead as she tucks it behind one ear.

“All set for this evening?” she asks, cutting her bacon. The mismatched cutlery, tarnished, makes for hard going.

“Think so. Can I take the truck? Pickin’ up Lou.”

“Oh, that makes my heart happy. She is the sweetest girl. A good head on her shoulders, make for a good wife.”

I stare at her, mid-chew.

Did she find the ring in my dresser drawer when she was doing laundry or something? Changing the subject, I point to the eggs. “Nice and hot still.”

She gives me a small, all-knowing smile and simply nods before returning her attention to her breakfast. With the last bite down, I pour her coffee from the small coffee jug. Adding a little of Mabes’s offering for this morning, I slide it across the table to her. She takes it with a sigh.

“I’m serious, Harry. I won’t be around forever. Louisa is wonderful. She’s full of life, strong, and I’ve seen the way you look at her. Please understand, it’s not every day you find that kind of love.”

“I do, Ma.” The words are heavy. I swallow the stone wedged tight down with my coffee. She pats my hand, giving me her please-consider-this look.

“Chores are waitin’.” I stand and take her plate, dunking the both of them in the hot suds she has ready.

“Could you drive me to town later? I need more flour, sugar, etc.,” Ma says from the table.

“After lunch, okay?” I look over my shoulder.

“Sounds good to me.” She smiles softly at me. If she was allowed to have a license, she could drive herself. After I teach her to drive, I suppose. Maybe one day.

I wash up and head for the field. We need another few head of cattle sold this week in the store sale to cover next month’s expenses and still give me enough to stack flat for our leavin’. Business was never something that interested me, but it’s surprising what you can learn out of pure necessity. I’ll work my fingers to the bone, if it means I can build a better life for Ma.

And hopefully, for Lou...

* * *

Ma wiggles the tie around my neck. I swear she cut off my air supply. I tug at it as she steps back, checking me over. Her hands clap in front of her face.

“Oh, darlin’, you look so handsome.”

“Ah, thanks, Ma,” I mutter as heat floods my cheeks. Goddammit. Not the state I wanted to be in picking up Lou. She hands me the keys to the old buckboard truck.

“Oh, wait, I put something together for Louisa.” She ducks from the front room to the kitchen, reappearing seconds later with a small cluster of wildflowers pinned to a silk ribbon in her palm. “You tell her I’m so proud of her.”

“I will, Ma.” I glance down at the suit I’m wearing—the product of Ma’s thrift shopping with her skilled tailoring to make it more fashionable and a better fit. She rests her hands on my shoulders and tilts her head to the side. Silver lines her eyes. “I am so proud of you. No matter how things turn out tonight.”

Yup. She found the ring.

I swallow as my heart kicks up.

“Well, isn’t this cozy.” The hard drawl snaps into the air a few feet away.

Ma stiffens immediately.

The slurred drawl tells me all I need to know. Hell, I can’t leave her here with him like this.

“Go, Harry. I’ll see you later.” She forces a smile, ushering me toward the front door.

“I can stay, Ma.”

She shakes her head fiercely. “No, this is important. Go.”

Her hand squeezes around my upper arm as she gives me a stoic nod. Reluctantly, I walk through the door. It closes behind me, and I stand motionless for a moment, listening.

“You’re up. Hungry, my love?” Ma placates him, the words muffled through the door. I wait for his answer.

“Starving, woman, bring a tray over to the box.”

“Won’t be long.”

If she feeds him, hopefully he’ll leave her be. I rush down the steps and head for the lean-to on the side of the house. The blue buckboard sits under the rusted sheet metal roof. I make a mental note to add it to the repairs list for this place. I slide into the driver’s seat and fire her up. She rattles where she stands before I slide the stick into reverse.

The truck rounds the driveway backward, and through the window, I see Ma handing the old man a tray of food. He doesn’t look at her, taking the cutlery and shoveling food into his mouth. Hope he chokes on it.

I make Lou’s house in under ten minutes. Double-checking the small velvet box I have been hiding away for months is still, in fact, in my right pocket, I kill the engine outside her house. Nervous as hell, I grab Ma’s corsage gift and walk up the path to her front door. Pressing a finger to the doorbell, I step back and slide my hands into my pockets.

A heartbeat later, the door opens, and my world stands over the threshold.

Lou’s blonde hair hangs in pretty waves over her shoulders. Her bright green eyes lit up with excitement. Her prom dress, a long, floating pink one that reaches the ground. A shawl is draped over her shoulders. Cream. Silk? She looks a dream.

So damn beautiful.

“You’re here,” Louisa breathes.

And like that, my day got instantly better.

“Where else would I be, darlin’?” I smile at her, ignoring my thundering heart and the lightning rushing through my veins as she steps over the threshold and into my space. She floods my senses. Like she always does. The last twelve months of going steady have given me a focus and perspective I’ve never had before. I take my hands from my pocket, remembering the corsage. Damn, I hope it’s not busted.

“Here, Ma made you something.” I wrap my fingers around her thin wrist and slide the ribbon over it. Her eyes don’t leave my face as I tie it around her wrist. She purses her lips, breaths stopped.

Her touch sends my head fuzzy. Where my fingertips graze her skin, something sparks to life. I turn her wrist over and inspect the final product. “She also wanted me to tell you she’s proud of you.”

Her face twists with emotion. The feelings Ma has for Lou go both ways. Another reason I love this woman so damn much. I drop her hand and crook an elbow. “Time to go? Don’t wanna be late.”

She smiles as her fine hand slides past my elbow and grips my bicep.

“Take me to prom, Harry.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The glittering disco balls twirl overhead. Lou holds onto me as we sway on the dance floor. It takes everything I have to not kiss her in the middle of her entire class. Teachers watching. Friends milling about.

“Thank you for coming,” Lou whispers in my ear as she leans into me.

“Anything for you, darlin’.”

She leans back with a look I can’t read and spins out of my hold. Snatching up my hand, she drags me through the crowd and out the gymnasium doors. The cool night air is an instant relief after the stuffy prom space. Lou comes to a stop on the sidewalk outside and spins back.

“There is something I want,” she says, tilting her head. She swings our hands together between us. She’s cute when she’s coy. I pull her into my chest, and she giggles, looking up at me.

“What is it?”

She cups my face in both her hands, pulling my mouth to hers. Every cell in my body responds to her touch, her kiss. I want her, and she opens for me. Blood rushes south. I grip her face, sliding my hands into her hair behind her neck.

A soft sound slips between us, and she pulls back.

Heart racing, my gaze homes in on hers. It’s hungry. Full of adoration and love. The way she always looks at me.

I close my eyes, swallowing hard. I wrap my fingers around hers, still on my face, and lower them. I sink to one knee, rubbing my thumbs over the back of her hands. Her brows drop, mouth agape.

“Ha—”

“Louisa May Masters, will you marry me?”