Authors: Felicia Rogers
After the funeral, his father had taken him aside. "Nick, we need to talk." The serious tone of Shane's voice had made Nicholas' heart skip a beat. They'd sat together on the couch with Shane wringing his hands. Nicholas had covered them with his own and listened to his father. "I want you to know I tried everything. I…well…I had to make some tough decisions while your mother was sick."
"I understand." His dad's uneasiness instilled fear of what was to come.
"I mortgaged the house to pay for her treatments and the bank is foreclosing."
Nicholas remembered shouting, "What about the insurance? You paid them for years and–"
His father had placed his arm around Nicholas, offering a reassuring squeeze. "They did pay. They paid a lot. But what they paid for didn't work. I searched the internet and found experimental treatments. The insurance company had a panel review my request for alternative care, but in the end, their answer was no. Your mother insisted it wasn't worth losing the house, our savings, everything, just to try unproven treatments. But I told her I'd risk losing
everything
to save her." His shoulders sagged. "And I did."
After hearing his father's confession, it had taken Nicholas days to work through his shock. When he could think clearly again, he'd contacted the bank and did everything but beg on his knees for a reprieve, but with no luck.
The house had foreclosed and most of its possessions sold to cover funeral costs and medical bills. When things couldn't look worse, his father had received a letter terminating his employment. In a week's time their whole world had turned upside down.
Although his father encouraged him to go back in the military or start a career with his degree, Nicholas couldn't leave his dad alone in such a situation. The decision to stay and assist was the reason he was now speeding down the highway to a new and unknown destiny.
The internet software program had calculated the trip from Livingston Parrish, Louisiana, to backwater Tennessee, as being a little over ten hours. The trip's length had increased considerably because of frequent stops to eat and switch drivers.
Nicholas said, "At the risk of sounding like a whiny child, are we almost there?"
Shane laughed, "If the old GPS is working, then we have about thirty minutes to go. Do you think we should stop before we get there? Maybe freshen up?"
Nicholas checked the time. If they kept going they would arrive at exactly five o'clock. Right now, the last thing he wanted was to get out of the truck and get back in. "When are they expecting us?"
Shane scratched his head. "I told Jake he would see us around dinner time."
"I say we push on. Thirty minutes and its over, right?"
"Yep," said his dad, with a huge grin.
Off the Interstate, the four lane road went for twelve miles—twelve long miles—until it narrowed and changed into two lanes that stretched as far as the eye could see. Large flat areas with houses dotted either side of the highway. Cows and horses grazed in pastures. Beyond the houses, pointed mountains rose with trees lining the peaks.
The truck's angle changed when they pulled onto a private driveway and the vehicle bounced along a gravel road in the direction of the mountain range. Wooden fences sprang up on either side of the road. The fence on the right bordered an open field with some scattered cows, and the one on the left set the boundary for row after row of green crops. In the distance, a white dot of a ranch house grew larger the closer they came. Then they were there. A tall, black gate in the middle of the road had been opened. Scripted in iron were the words, "Pickett Ranch".
Nicholas swallowed the lump in his throat. When Shane had said he was coming to help a friend, he'd thought his dad had secured a job working at a local business. But working on a ranch? This was nowhere near what he'd imagined. In his memory, his father had no experience with ranch life. What could he possibly do here?
"Nicholas James, I feel your tension from here. Would you stop worrying? Everything is going to work out fine."
"Dad, are you crazy! A ranch! We're from Louisiana—land of swamps, alligators, snakes, and bayous. How are we–"
His father squeezed his arm, imploring him, "Trust me."
Nicholas nodded and his father drove to the front of the farm house. He didn't move until Shane made a shooing motion with his hands. Nicholas stepped out of the truck. The smell of fresh air assailed him and the beauty of the place immediately took his breath away.
A two-story, white house with a wraparound porch greeted them. Red rose bushes, azaleas in various colors, and other colorful plants were used to accentuate the house's lack of color. The sound of his father clearing his throat snapped Nicholas back to reality and he noticed they were no longer alone.
Three people had walked onto the porch. One was a man with black graying hair, tanned skin, and a welcoming smile. Clinging to him like glue was a tall, lanky woman, with bleached blonde hair and a mask of make-up. A stretchy fabric covered her body like a second skin.
Nicholas watched as Shane closed his truck door and started toward the couple. Before he reached the porch, the older man rushed and wrapped Shane in a hug. Releasing him, he fell back and pumped his hand. "Shane Wiseman, you old coot, how are you? It's been way too long."
"Jake Pickett, you old fossil. It's good to see you, too." Backslapping and joking continued for a few moments before Nicholas was summoned forward. Shane said, "This here is my son, Nicholas. I hope you don't mind him coming along. He wanted to help his old man settle in."
Jake shook his hand. "Not at all. Welcome Nicholas, we're glad to have you."
The blonde sauntered forward. Gum in the shape of a bubble popped as she extended a ringed hand toward his father and an odor of noxious perfume wafted up Nicholas' nose. "I guess I'll introduce myself. Hi, I'm Carla Pickett."
Jake shifted nervously as Shane shook her hand. After the handshake, Jake glanced behind him and urged another person forward. Nicholas watched a young woman descend the porch steps. She wore baggy jeans and a loose fitting T-shirt. Her black hair was swept back into a long pony tail. Although her face was clean of make-up, she was exceptionally pretty. The only jewelry he could see was a necklace in the shape of a locket. Her lips twitched upwards in a smile as she shot a hand toward his father.
Jake said, "Shane, you remember my daughter, Ellie. She just graduated from college and has decided to stay with us until she finds a job."
"Pleased to see you again, Ellie." Shane extended his hand.
"It's a pleasure seeing you again, too." She shook his hand and turned her gaze on Nicholas and he noted the color of her eyes. They were like shiny emeralds. "Nice to meet you, too."
Nicholas suddenly felt like an awkward schoolboy. Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded. The awkward moment was broken when Jake clapped his hands. "Hey, I guess you two might like to settle in. Let's hop back in your truck and I'll take you to your new place." With a glance at his wife, he said, "I'll be back in a bit."
Carla's face showed stress lines at the corners of her eyes, but a smile remained plastered on her face. Jake pointed toward a narrow road which was almost overtaken by weeds. The truck dropped into huge potholes, bouncing them up and down.
"Just to let you know, I have to take you the long way round to get you there, but you're closer to the main house than you think. There's a walking trail that takes no time at all."
They traveled in silence for a minute and then a whoosh of air escaped Jake's lips. "I'm sorry, Shane. I know I should have warned you about me being remarried and all. Carla's insecure about being the second wife, but I know she'll be more comfortable with you in time."
"I can see why she'd be insecure," mumbled his father.
"Dad!" exclaimed Nicholas, turning to glare at him.
Jake's shook his head. "No your father's right. She's kind of young."
"Kind of? Jake have you
looked
at the girl?"
The road ended. In front of them was a small wooden cabin. Huge maple trees closed in on the building. The appearance of the place brought the discussion of Carla's youth and insecurity to a close. Exiting the truck, Nicholas eyed the house warily.
Jake said, "I know it doesn't look like much on the outside, but just give it a chance before you decide."
Shane bounded up the steps, pushed the door open, and walked inside with Nicholas following close behind. A gasp of surprise escaped his father, "Wow!"
"Like I said, not much on the outside, but it has what counts on the inside. The television is wired for satellite. There's also Internet at the big house if you need it. There are two bedrooms and one bath. Ellie washed all the linens and Carla stocked the cabinets with food. You should have everything you need, but if you think of something else, just let me know. Do you have any questions?"
Nicholas was in awe.
After a study of the room, his father said, "The only thing I need to know is what you want me to do to pay for all this and when do you want me to start."
Jake smiled and grasped Shane's hand. "Don't worry about that. We'll discuss everything in the morning at six sharp." A sigh escaped and Jake added, "I guess I better get back. I'd invite you to the big house, but with Carla being so–"
Shane shook his head. “Not a problem. Nicholas and I need to rest anyway. We wouldn’t be good company.”
Jake relaxed and turned at the door. "Shane?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you're here."
****
Ellie sat on the porch, cradled a cup of coffee, and waited for her father. Carla was inside fuming. Ignoring her step-mother, Ellie sipped the hot brew and thought about the farm's newest residents. Shane Wiseman was just as she remembered—a huge, muscular man with gentle blue eyes and a calm manner. His son, Nicholas, wasn't much different; he was tall, broad shouldered, and good looking. His skin glowed with a healthy tan and his blond hair, shaved into a military cut, served to highlight his sapphire eyes.
Her dad had mentioned that Nicholas had left the military recently and now Ellie couldn't stop envisioning him on the battle field. He would stand up for what he believed in, she could feel it. He would run into a burning building, rush into a place rigged to explode, give up his seat on a rescue boat, anything to save another human's life. In fact, the lines etched in his face might be an indication that those things had already happened.
Sighing, Ellie realized she was romanticizing the man. Perhaps her father was right and she needed to get out more. She was still thinking on that when Jake bounded onto the porch. He leaned against the railing, a smile wrinkling the corners of his eyes.
"Well, they're settled in. So what do you think?"
Caught off guard, Ellie swallowed a gulp of coffee too quickly and choked. She covered her mouth as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her father slapped her on the back and tried to stifle a laugh. When she was able to catch her breath, she laughed with him.
"What are you two laughing about?" Carla asked, as she wandered onto the porch.
Jake waved a hand. "Nothing important." He planted a kiss on Carla's cheek, adding, "And how are you, dear?"
"I'm right as rain now that those friends of yours have moved on."
Ellie noted her father's frown. "I don't get you. What did they do to offend you?"
"Well if you don't know, then I'm not sharing." She flung her head back, slinging her hair to the side, and stomped back into the house.
Jake shook his head. "I don't think I'll ever understand women." He looked at Ellie, "Are you coming in for dinner?"