Chapter 7
A myriad of emotions surged inside Vanessa as she stomped around the kitchen.
She yanked open cabinets just to bang them shut as she looked for something— anything—to calm her racing heart.
She was a fool. Coming here with the hopes of forming some kind of loving relationship with an uncle she’d never met.
He’d made it clear for twenty-five years he wasn’t interested in knowing anything about her. Why would that change just because she lived in the same town? Heck, now it was worse. Now she wasn’t just some long-lost niece, she was the enemy.
A familiar ache in her heart intensified and stupid tears blurred her vision. She slammed another cabinet, frustrated not to find something inside that would magically make her feel better. Like a pack of chocolate cookies or a jar of frosting.
Leaning against the counter, she sighed, choosing to look on the bright side. Her uncle was a dick, but her aunt and cousin were lovely. She’d focus on building a friendship with the women who’d welcomed her with enthusiasm and love and see what happened.
With one decision under her belt, she might as well push through and make another.
She wouldn’t find anything to satisfy her in the kitchen until she made a trip into town and found a grocery store.
Until then, she’d ride the wave of emotions kicking up dust inside her instead of sweeping them under the rug and revisit her mom’s old bedroom.
“Come on, Frankie. We’ve got to start somewhere.” She climbed the stairs with Frankie a step behind her.
She trailed her fingertips along the dark walnut railing, her gaze fixed on the clutter of photos on the floral-wallpapered wall. So many unknown faces stared back at her. Faces of relatives and family she’d never known, never met. People who shared her name and blood and nothing else.
A strong urge to be around someone she really knew hurried her to the room she’d avoided since yesterday when she’d first stepped foot in it. In the moment, feeling the presence of her mother had overwhelmed her.
Now, she needed that presence. Even if the girl who’d left behind the boxes and trinkets wasn’t the woman who’d raised her.
Opening the door, she walked inside and drew in a large breath.
The pink walls and frilly bedspread brought a smile to her lips.
The room her mom had lived in all of Vanessa’s life had held neutrals and practical necessities.
But she’d brought pieces of the girl from Cloud Valley with her, even if she’d never realized it.
She slipped the rainbow throw off the edge of the bed and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders as she stood in the middle of the room. A subtle hint of vanilla—her mom’s favorite scent—clung to the soft fabric and brought tears to her eyes.
Frankie whined and stared up at her with his big, soulful eyes.
“You ready for this, boy?”
He cocked his head to the side.
“Where should we start?” Vanessa glanced around, not exactly sure what she was expecting out of this. Once she got a glimpse of the girl her mom used to be, would she feel closer to her or further away than ever?
“Well, Frankie, we might as well just jump in and see what happens. Standing around isn’t going to do anything, and if nothing else, I need to get this house put together the way we want it.”
Steeling her nerves, she opted to tackle the closet.
She could pull out a few boxes and peek inside.
If it was too much, she’d put them back and try again another day.
The top box was light, and she set it on the floor in the middle of the room.
She flipped open the lid and was greeted by old clothes.
She pulled out T-shirts with the local high school’s mascot—a bison wearing a cowboy hat—on the front and found an old cheerleading uniform.
She shook out the pleated skirt with alternating colors of gold and crimson and held it up to her waist. “You think I could pull this off, Frankie?”
Frankie’s low, long whine seemed to tell her no, so she set it aside and kept digging into her mom’s old possessions.
When she found a yearbook, she sat cross-legged on the shaggy rug and pulled the blanket tighter around her.
She flipped through the pages, searching hungrily for a sighting of her mom.
She found her on the page dedicated to the cheerleaders.
Her smile wide and bright, her hair bigger than the mountain outside the window.
Vanessa laughed through her tears. She’d never seen what her mom looked like when she was younger. The images of her laughing with friends and cheering on the football team were like looking back in time. “She was beautiful.”
Frankie grunted in agreement.
“You’re wonderful, but I need to find someone who’s a better conversationalist.”
He rolled over and showed her his belly.
Laughing, she rubbed the velvety fur then flipped the page to find an old photograph tucked between the pages.
Her mom stood between two boys. One had to be the younger version of her uncle, although his wide grin and cute dimples went against the memory of the stern-faced jerk who’d showed up earlier.
But it was the other boy who caught her attention. Her mom stared up at him, her admiration clear through the glossy paper, and his smile was full. His jaw chiseled and dark hair shaggy around his ears. Although it was the x’s scratched over his eyes that she couldn’t look away from.
A shiver raced down Vanessa’s spine and a sudden urge to toss the box aside had her steadying her breath and returning everything back to where she’d found it.
Except the photo. The image stirred something in the pit of her stomach she wasn’t quite ready to figure out but couldn’t ignore. Standing, she stuck it in the corner of the mirror. She wouldn’t pack it away. She’d keep it where she knew she’d find it when the time was right.
“Well, I think that’s enough for one day, don’t you?” she asked, staring down at Frankie. “Maybe we should go see our other farm friends? We can let them out in the pasture, as long as you promise to stay in the fenced-in area this time. I think I’ll stay with you just to be safe.”
Frankie barked then ran out the door, the clatter of his nails on the wooden floors echoing off the ceiling.
Shaking her head, she chuckled and followed him down the stairs and out the front door. The sun had risen a bit higher in the sky, sending warm rays through the crisp wind shifting the nearby leaves. She zipped up her jacket to keep away the chill and hurried across the gravel driveway.
Frankie waited at the barn door. He jumped and pawed at the ground.
“You’re so impatient today,” she playfully scolded. “I’m coming.”
He moved out of the way when she gripped the handle and shoved the door aside.
“Why’s it so quiet?” Her intuition went haywire, and she ran to the pen at the front of the barn that housed the goats.
“Oh my God!” She stared in horror at the motionless animals lying on the ground, their eyes closed and no sign of life in their little bodies.
* * *
Dax stepped out of the cold shower, anger still sizzling on his skin.
Starting the day off arguing with Madden wasn’t ideal but also wasn’t a big surprise.
The two had butted heads for years. Just because the last few months had brought some peace didn’t mean they magically saw eye to eye on everything.
Especially when it came to their dad.
As the big brother, Madden always assumed he knew what was best for everyone.
He had an annoying habit of sweeping in and making decisions that affected everyone else, not caring that he wasn’t the one in the trenches.
Dax had been too young when Madden had made a life-altering decision before, but he wasn’t some dumb kid now.
And he wouldn’t let Madden waltz around the ranch with a puffed-out chest, demanding others adhere to his whim.
Drying off with a soft cotton towel, Dax hurried to dress and get downstairs.
By the time he poured a fresh cup of coffee, he’d calmed.
Flying off the handle wouldn’t prove his point.
He had to stay in control of his emotions and show Madden that what was best for their dad was Dax continuing to keep watch and helping when necessary.
The thump of his dad’s cane against the hardwood floor preceded him into the kitchen. “Morning. What’s on the agenda for the day?” He settled into a chair at the round table in the middle of the room. A green tablecloth covered the table that was used at the weekly poker game.
Dax grabbed another mug and filled it, delivering it to his dad without being asked. If coffee was in the pot, Walter wanted it. “Not sure. I worked the horses already. I could take another run at that thoroughbred later. He’s a stubborn one.”
Walter took a sip then set his mug down. His hand shook just enough to slosh coffee over the side. “Sometimes it’s best to give the stubborn ones some space.”
Dax leaned against the counter and studied his dad’s weathered face. Most days he struggled to hear the television at full blast, but there were times Dax wondered if he observed more than he let on. “Why do I have the suspicion you’re not talking about horses?”
Walter shrugged. “Think what you want. No skin off my teeth.”
Not wanting to discuss his argument with Madden, especially since it centered around Walter, Dax took his coffee to the table and sat. “What are your plans for the day?”
Walter snorted. “I’ve got a big day planned. Breakfast followed by some porch sitting. Ball game’s on this evening. You watchin’ with me tonight?”
“Are you going to yell at the TV?”
“Try and stop me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Dax said, lifting his palms. “I’ll be here.”
The side of Walter’s mouth inched up, not quite reaching a smile. “Don’t cancel anything you might have going on for me. I don’t need no company to enjoy a game.”
Chuckling, Dax shook his head. His dad wasn’t one to ever ask for company or request anything from his sons. Mentioning the game was his way of throwing out a line, and no matter how much he wanted Dax to take the bait, he’d never press.
But Dax would take that bait any chance he got.
“If I’m not here, there’s no one to yell back at you. Count me in.” The sound of his phone stole his attention. Vanessa’s number flashed on the screen, increasing his heart rate. He raised a finger to his dad, indicating he needed a minute, before answering the call. “Hey, Vanessa. How you doing?”
“I’m sorry to bug you so early, but something’s wrong with the goats.”
Leaning against his chair, he grinned and aimed an exaggerated eye roll at his dad. Walter would get a kick out of some city girl’s dramatics over a handful of farm animals. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice growing more frantic. “They were fine when I fed them this morning. But I came outside to let them into the pasture and they’re just laying here. Eyes closed, and I don’t know if they’re breathing. What do I do?”
He jumped to his feet. “Have you tried giving them any water?”
“No. I can’t get them to do anything. I’m freaking out.”
“Stay put. I’m on my way.” Disconnecting, he downed one more sip of hot coffee. “That was Vanessa Kemp. Says the goats are sick, possibly dead. She doesn’t know what do, so I’m heading that way.”
“Girl might not be used to farm life, but it ain’t too hard to tell if an animal’s dead or not,” Walter said.
“It doesn’t make any sense. They were fine yesterday.”
“Might have eaten something they shouldn’t.
I think we’ve still got some activated charcoal in the barn.
We’d give that to the animals from time to time if they got into something bad.
Go take a look, and I’ll find some Pepto-Bismol.
If they got a hold of something, the charcoal will keep the poison from spreading and the pink stuff will coat the belly. You’ll still need a vet though.”
“Thanks, Pops.” He ran down the hall, shoving boots on his feet as he made his way out the door. His dad might be old and ailing, but he had years of experience dealing with unexpected problems on a ranch.
He just hoped his assumption that the goats had gotten into something they shouldn’t have was right. If not, he wasn’t sure he could help the little guys.
Ignoring the curious gazes of the horses, he rushed into the storage room and scanned the dusty shelves. He spotted what he needed then sprinted back to the house.
Walter waited on the porch with a pink bottle in his hands. “I put in a call to Dr. Hatcher. She said she’ll head out to the Kemp place right away.”
Dax bounded up the steps and grabbed the medicine. “Good thinking. I’ll call if I need more advice. Keep your phone nearby.”
He hurried to his truck, but not before he noticed Walter’s chest puff a bit at the request. His dad might be battling a nasty bastard that threatened to steal his dignity—and eventually his life—but he still had so much to offer.
And Dax vowed to do whatever possible to keep him around and happy for years to come, and God help anyone who stood in his way.