Chapter Eleven #2
Hayden glanced around the pasture at the Shadow Ridge Ranch, reminded of the good times he’d spent here with his brothers and grandfather.
The more he got used to the idea that he hadn’t caused Grandpa’s heart attack or driven the old man to the edge, justifying his harsh words, the more good memories and snippets of positive conversations returned.
Those words… “Do you know what my grandfather’s last words to me were? ”
“No. But I bet you mean to tell me,” Roddy said, none too happily. “You know I don’t take sides.”
“I’m not asking you to take sides,” Hayden replied, trying to believe it was true.
“Fine. I’ll play along.” Roddy shifted in the saddle. “What were Clyde’s last words to you?”
“Wherever you go, don’t make a living. Make a life.
” Grandpa had said those words ten years ago when they’d said goodbye on the farmhouse porch the day after Violet jilted him.
Hayden pointed toward the closest outbuilding, a ramshackle barn next to an arena filled with tall weeds.
A few sparrows flitted over the leafy tops.
“And now that I’m the caretaker of his life’s work, I’m wondering if he should have spent more time making a living by taking care of his properties. ”
“That’s fair,” Roddy said in a clipped tone.
Hayden did a double take Roddy’s way, shifting in the saddle and accidentally cuing Red to swing around until the two men and their horses were facing each other. “You aren’t going to defend my grandfather?”
“Didn’t I just tell you I wasn’t going to take sides?” Roddy worked his jaw. “Reality is… Your grandfather was like an older brother to me. You can disagree with your brother, but that doesn’t mean you stop loving him.”
That sounded like something Grandpa would have said before…before that tumor began changing him. Hayden allowed himself a wry smile. But there was something else he had to know. “Did you disagree when Grandpa cast us out?”
Roddy spit, fixing Hayden with a hard stare. “When you turn eighty-five, you’ll make your own decisions.”
“Meaning I should respect his.” Even if Grandpa had been in decline because of that brain tumor?
Roddy nodded. “Clyde loved you boys. But he wanted you to become men he’d be proud of. Think of it like a bird kicking babies out of the nest.”
“I’d rather not think of it at all.” Because it hurt. It hurt deep inside where his heart was buried. Family shouldn’t turn away family for any reason. Hayden caught himself before he completed the thought. He turned Red toward the ranch yard. “Let’s head back early.”
The meek sound of an upset calf reached them.
Hayden and Roddy scanned the area. The sloping pastures were bound by soaring pines. The tall grass waved in the wind. The cattle grazed, pretending to ignore the cowboys.
A calf cried again, the distinct bellow of distress.
“There!” Hayden pointed. Beneath a pine at the edge of the pasture, a cow lay inert on her side. A small calf stood wet and on wobbly legs next to her. “It’s an orphan.”
“Poor fella,” Roddy said in a thick voice. He was a kindhearted man. “We’ll need to come back for that cow. But right now, we need to take that calf home with us.” Not a question.
On that, they agreed.
“By way of town,” Hayden added. They’d need supplies to keep the newborn calf alive. Hayden rode closer, freeing his lasso from the loop on his saddle. “Cute little bugger.”
“Little Katie will want to adopt this one too,” Roddy predicted. “Same as those kittens Irene found.”
Hayden agreed.
*
“When can I have a turn playing doctor?” A short time after the mama cat had arrived, Katie sat on the living room couch, her plastic medical bag beside her. “I’m tired of being the patient.”
“You can be my doctor when I’m done wrapping your wrist.” Lacking extra bandages, Eve was practicing her wrapping technique with a roll of toilet paper.
“I want to be a baby doctor.” Katie stroked Poppy’s orange fur. The kitten was asleep in her lap. The other kittens were with their mama in the mudroom. “What kind of doctor do you want to be, Gran?”
“I don’t cotton to doctors,” Irene said in a distant voice. “See a doc and there’ll be all kinds of pokes. Unnecessary, if you ask me.”
“Doctors don’t always give you pokes,” Eve said gently, not wanting to start a fight but not wanting Katie to fear doctors either. “Katie just had a checkup, and she didn’t get a shot.”
“She was lucky,” Irene grumbled, fidgeting in her spot on the couch.
Eve sat back and checked her practice wrap job on Katie’s wrist, nodding in satisfaction. “All done with you, Katie.” She turned her attention to Irene. “What can I help you with, Gran? You seem fidgety.”
“I think I forgot something upstairs in my room,” Irene said slowly, brow furrowed. “Only I…I can’t remember where my room is.”
“I’ll show you,” Katie offered, getting to her feet.
The trio, plus one kitten, traipsed up the stairs with Katie leading the way.
“You have a princess bed!” Katie cried, running into Irene’s bedroom. She set Poppy on Irene’s frilly gray pillow shams before scrambling onto the four-poster bed. Her toilet paper bandages fell away from her wrist, immediately pounced upon and torn to shreds by Poppy.
“What a pretty room.” Eve took in Irene’s bedroom, breathing in the closed-in smell of dust, making a mental note to clean it.
The room was stuffed with large oak furniture—a dresser and matching bureau, a tall mirror on a swivel stand, a pair of bookshelves filled with paperback romances, framed photographs, and knickknacks.
The wallpaper was striped burgundy and white.
A stained-glass chandelier hung from the tall ceiling.
Paintings of English cottage gardens were hung on the wall. The room lacked Clyde’s imprint.
“Lately, I’ve been thinking this room is missing something.” Irene stood at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning her chambray shirt as if preparing to remove it.
“This room is perfect,” Katie said, bouncing on the bed until she realized Poppy nearly bounced off from her actions.
Eve perused the framed pictures, particularly a photograph of Hayden. He was a handsome teenager, looking triumphant standing next to a bull with a blue ribbon attached to its halter.
“I feel like a swim.” Irene tossed her shirt onto the bed. Her bra was a dingy white.
“Is there a lake around here?” Eve seemed to remember there was.
“We have a swimming hole.” Irene’s blue jeans hung off her slim hips, revealing the wide white waistband of her underwear.
Eve did a double take. “Are you wearing tighty-whities?”
Irene tried to catch sight of her backside.
Eve came over and gently led her to the mirror. “I think you are.”
The old woman stared blankly at her reflection over her shoulder.
Katie had her hand under Irene’s starburst quilt, wriggling her fingers to tempt Poppy to pounce on them. “What are tighty-whities?”
“It’s a kind of men’s underwear.” Eve kept her voice low and nonthreatening. “Are they Clyde’s, Gran?”
The old woman nodded. “I think… I think the washer decided to eat mine a while back. Can’t quite remember.”
Eve drew Irene away from the mirror. “I need to run some errands in town before dinner. Why don’t we buy you new underthings while we’re there?”
It took some convincing, but eventually Irene agreed.
But not without asking for their names once more.