Authors: Kate Vale
“I will.
Yes, indeedy.
” He rubbed his hands together. “Well, I gotta go.
If you’re in town or something
, I’ll just put
any extra furniture I find
on the porch, if’n that’s ok
ay
with you.” He grinned at her.
“That would be fine.” As he backed away, s
he reached for
one of his gnarled
hand
s and shook it. “T
hank you
again
for what you already brought.”
Over the next
three
days, Suzanna
bought
food, some dishes and
a set of
pots and pans to su
pplement what was already there;
put curtains on the window
in the bedroom and the kitchen;
and with some extra fabric, fashioned a cover for the tiny closet entrance, behind which she hung her clothes.
She rearranged the furniture several times until she felt things were j
ust right.
I feel like Little Miss Homemaker.
S
he chuckled
to herself, surprised that what would have bored her in Minneapolis didn’t feel the same here.
I’m nesting,
she thought,
making a little home away from home
.
The first
afternoon
her ankle no longer ached
, she wandered around the yard and discovered a small stream in the woods not far from the kitchen door. She
got down on her hands and knees
and dug in the dirt in a sunny spot
.
When she went into town, she stopped at the general store for
a shovel and hoe,
some seeds, thin p
oles, and string to tie them. Then
she dug up a garden area and planted peas, pole beans, tomatoes, green peppers, radishes, and squash.
“The squash may be a bit optimistic,
Sam, but the plants are so pretty. W
hat’s not to like
, seeing if they’ll grow here?
” She patted the ground around th
e mounds. “Sam, see this fence?
”
She
attached string to the extra poles to create the semblance of a protective wall. “
S
tay out of the garden. No digging here.”
The dog
cocked his head at her. “No closer.”
Sam
stopped when she put
up her hand and said no.
“Good boy.”
He
ran into the woods and returned with a stick,
dropping it at her feet in invitation.
She tossed it for him several times before tak
ing a seat on the front porch. Minutes later, s
he looked up when she heard hoof
beats.
Jonathan rode up on the big Appal
oosa.
“Hello,
”
she said, surprised that he wasn’t driving a truck, and aware of butterflies in her stomach.
“Hell
o, yourself. Nate tells me you liked the furniture he brought
. I thought I would
make sure you’re comfortable.
”
Didn’t you say I couldn’t depend on you, that I would be alone here?
But pleased that
he would take an interest, she said, “Come on in and see for yourself.”
Be still my heart. He’s just being neighborly
.
He took
off
his hat
and
followed her through the small living room and
into the kitchen.
“You’ve been busy.”
“
I
t’s been fun.”
Her pulse picked up as he looked around.
I hope he approves.
He
exited
the kitchen and stopped when he saw the garden plot.
One hand rubbed his scalp where his hair curled above his ears.
“How long
did you say
you
were
planning to stay?”
“W
ell,
you see,
I just love fresh vegetables,” she stammered.
“And, I have a garden every year. The soil seemed good enough, so I—I—decided to see what would
come up…before I leave
.”
She mentally squirmed under t
he steady gaze of
his
blue eyes.
Maybe
she shouldn’t have put in the garden.
What to do now?
Hostess duties
.
“My apologies. You’re my first real visitor, except for Nate, and he didn’t stay long. Would you like some tea?”
He
turned in her direction, his eyes seeming to caress her face
. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“It’ll be just a minute.” She moved back into the kitchen to prepare the tea. “Please have a seat in the living room,” she called over her shoulder. Did cowboys always remove their hats in the house?
He looked to be
taller than Kevin.
She brought the tea, two cups, and a plate of recently-baked cookies and set them on the little table near the floor lamp.
“Here you go.” She offered
him a cup
and the plate of cookies.
“You made these?” He popped a cookie into his mouth.
“Yes. My daughter says I make the
best chocolate chewies ever.” Why did she
feel so jumpy
when he looked at her
?
“They pass muster. Did you know you have a hole in
your
jeans?” he asked
, one corner of his mouth quirking upward
.
When she looked down at her knees, he pointed in the direction of her left hip. “Toward the back,” the hint of a smirk on his face.
She clamped a hand over the hole on her backside that she’d forgotten to mend.
“My work clothe
s.” She disappeared into the bedroom to pull her shirt out of the waistband of her jeans, hoping the tail would cover the hole.
When s
he return
ed, she said, “
I found some
things I thought you might want,
”
and dumped
a small yellow truck, some multi-colored blocks, and a child’s tea set
next to him on the couch
.
“I found these when I was
sweep
ing out the little closet in the be
droom
.”
“Have you got a bag
to
put them in?”
“
Not at the moment. Let me
bring them with
me later.
I
still
owe you
rent money.
”
S
uzanna
turned to the dog, who had sidled up to Jonathan and was eyeing the last two cookies on the plate. “Sam, you leave those cookies alone,” she ordered.
T
he dog sat and whined,
then placed a paw on Jonathan’s knee
as he looked up at the man, his head cocked to one side and his ears at attention
.
“Does he always beg from strangers?” He
chuckled
.
“Down, Sam,” he commanded. The dog lay down.
“Well, no, but I guess he doesn’t think of you as a stranger.” She
reached into her pocket and pulled out
a frayed envelope
with
the notation, “for
my darling
” on the front in fanciful script. “I found this, too.
It was in the dresser. I thought
it must be yours
.”
When Jonathan saw
the envelope
, a frown replaced his smile
and the light in his eyes dimmed
. He stood up and
shoved
the letter into his shirt pocket. “I’ve got to go. Thanks for the tour and the cookies.”
“Oh. C
an I
come up later to take care of the rent?”
My, his mood changes quickly.
“Suit yourself.” He swung onto his horse.
When he entered his study, Jonathan placed the letter
to
his wife’s lover next to the picture of his
new
tenant and her dog
, the one he’d snapped when he’d spotted them on the ridge
.
What was it about
Suzanna
that made her so unlike Chelsea?
Perhaps it was the way she had offered him the children’s long-forgotten toys
,
or had made the little cabin so homey, like a worn leather glove. It seemed to fit her.
He reached into his desk, pulled out a match, struck it against his boot and lit the unread letter, allowing it to burn and the ashes to drop into the crystal ashtray on his desk.
Nate entered the room.
“Want anything from the kitchen? I’m headed
in
to town
for
supplies.”
“No, I’m fine. If I’m hungry, I’ll make myself something.”
He looked at Nate. “You never told me she put up curtains and dug a garden.”
“Did she now? Well, they weren’t done when I was there
. L
ooks like she’s gonna be here for
a while
, don’t it?”
“Seems so. I thought she said
a couple of weeks
.”
Jonathan picked up his pipe and absent-mindedly filled the bowl.
“Guess that means you owe me.” Nate held out his hand,
grinn
ing. “I told you she was a stayer. You owe me a sawbuck plus my own ten.”
Jonathan handed
the man
a twenty dollar bill. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”
“I don’t know about you, but a woman’s touch isn’t such a bad thing.”
“Maybe,” Jonathan
turned his attention to the
mail
Caleb
had picked up. The usual bills, and a couple of
graduate paper
s Jamie
wanted
him to review.
In his mind’s eye, he saw
Suzanna
blushing as she’d tried to cover the hole in her jeans, located just off her hip and low enough that he had spied the edge of a silk panty.
Under those work clothes, did she always wear lace undies?
She reminded him of a
half-wild mare he’d roped once
. That female had gentled down nicely after he worked her steadily. Would Suzanna stay long enough for him to
get to
know
her
?
He couldn’t deny that she had awakened in him a desire to … well, just plain desire. When had he wanted to get close to a woman?
He sensed she was attracted to him
by the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t aware
. What was holding her back
? W
as she waiting for a signal from him? And
if so,
what was he waiting for?
Chapter 7
Suzanna
parked in front of
the ranch house
. Her hair,
newly washed and dried in the sun, was
caught in a scrunchie
away from
her face.
She hoped her
well-cut slacks and Western shirt
would tell the rancher that she was prepared to talk business
.
Jonathan emerged from the house
before she reached the porch
.
“
I’ll talk to you later, Curly.
” He
waved to the man in the near corral, and stood aside as Suzanna neared
the door.
“Come on in. You can let Sam out
of the car
.
He and Rex ought to make friends.”
Sam
leapt out of the Wrangler and
approached
the retriever
. Soon, the two dogs were playing tag.
She followed Jonathan into the house.
“Who was that man, the one brushing the horse?”
“Curly, my foreman.”
She tried not to smile.
The man’s bald as a cue ball.
“Here are your children’s toys.” She handed him a small
box
.
“Thank you.”
The rental contract was on his desk, facing
her
chair. She
read it carefully before raising her eyes to look in his direction
. “Are you an attorney
, in addition to ranching and agricultural consulting
?”
“No.
” He toyed with his unlit pipe.
“
Why do you ask?”
“T
his reads like a legal document
.”
“
And your late husband was an attorney.
”
Suzanna
sat without moving, her pulse starting to climb
.
Because he’d mentioned Brad or the way Jonathan was gazing back at her?
He picked up a pen that lay near his hand and slipped it into the center drawer of his desk.
“Do you w
ish
me to send
the contract
to
your attorney
?”
“
That’s not
necessary.” She read the document
again, placed
it back on the table
and slid it
over to
him. “I can’t sign this.”
His eyes widened.
“
Did I forget something
?”
“T
he
amount of rent
.”
“
Oh.” A corner of his mouth twitched upward. “
How does
fifty dollars a
week sound?”
“Not enough. I was paying that much a day
for one tiny room
at that god
-
awful hotel, and they w
eren’t even changing the sheets.
”
“But you’r
e doing that yourself
, here.” H
e chuckled. “What do you think is a fair rental price?” He
turned the contract around and pushed
it
back in her direction
.
“I was thinking
two hundred fifty a
week.” She
swiveled
the contract
and it skated back
in his direction.
He
stopped its forward movement with a hand and shook his head. “You’ve done to
o much work on the place
.
I would feel guilty
charging you that much.” He scanned
the paper
for a long minute, his fingers forming a tent. “W
e’re going to wear out the contract pushing it back and forth like this.”
Suzanna
glimpsed the hint of a smile on his face
.
Time was stretched by the s
ilence
that
ensued
as she looked at the contract, a paper boat caught midway across the moat of his desk
.
Then he said, “Exactly h
ow long are you planning to stay
, Mrs. Wallace? Suzanna
?”
She
glanc
ed down
at
her lap before replying, suddenly nervous, fearful he was going to ask her to leave before she wanted to.
She cleared her throat.
“At first, I thought
maybe a week or two. I needed a break from all that driving…and so I could go hiking. But now … I feel so relaxed here.”
Except when you’re so close.
“I listen to the birds in the morning—not that I didn’t hear them at home—and I can take Sam for a walk, even though we did that at home, too. It’s … different here. In a good way.”
Her pulse began to race, as she recalled how trapped she’d felt when she’d returned home from the beach, how even some of her friends, and Penny especially, had assumed she should just carry on as usual, as if nothing had happened.
But her whole world had turned over, and she didn’t recognize who she was after Brad’s death. Being his wife had consumed her.
She looked around the room before focusing on Jonathan’s face and his mesmerizing blue eyes. “I’d like to stay longer, maybe …” She coughed and gulped. “Until the end of September. I
f you don’t mind.”
Now that she’d said it, it
was
what she wanted. Until fall. Long enough to have a sense of what she wanted to do then, where she wanted to live. Maybe she’d know who she was by the end of the summer
.
Please don’t make me leave
. “I know I
wasn’t clear about that
when we first talked, but I really
do
like i
t here … in your little pioneer cabin.”
The man’s eyes widened for the briefest of moments. Maybe she’d imagined it. Was he considering it?
“
Maybe I should explain,” s
he rushed on, not wanting him to tell her to leave
sooner
.
“I really had no idea I would find a place like this, or even that I would like being so far away from home. In fact, when I left, all I really had in mind was to take a little trip and … and … try to figure out … . For so many years, Brad, well, he sort of made me what I was. And when he died, I was so lost.
“That day on the beach when you said I’d be welcome here. I thought you were such a nice man.” She covered her cheeks with her palms so he wouldn’t see how warm her skin now felt. “But I never really expected to see you again. After I talked to my friend, Margaret, I decided to see Yellowstone National Park for myself. I’d never been out west but I’ve always wanted to. Then when I arrived, the gate was closed because of all the snow, so I just kept driving until I saw that beautiful valley with the river meandering through it. I had to stop. I found out I was in Willow Grove, the name on your business card.”
She paused for a second to catch her breath. “I’m just not ready to go home yet. I need more time to figure out what I want to do.”
Who I am.
She looked up to see an intense warmth in his gaze. Her cheeks heated up again. Her voice slower, quieter, she added, “Maybe it was fate.”
When he said nothing in response, she took a deep breath. “I promise
Sam
won’t bother any of your cows on our walks or—
”
He raised his hand
to stop additional explanation
. “
How about this?
I’ll
charge you
five hundred a
month and we’ll call it good. That takes into account how you’ve improved the place, but doesn’t insult you.”
Suzanna
smiled
, relieved
. “That
’s
fair.”
Afraid
he
might
change his mind, she
pulled the contract to her side of the desk,
wrote the amount in the correct spot, signed and dated the document with a flourish
and handed it to him
.
He
signed the document
,
made a copy
, and
gave
her the original.
“I believe that does it.”
“Yes,
it does.” She stood up, beaming
, shook his hand, and left
before he could change his mind
.
Dear Kev and Penny:
I’m in Montana, living in a little cabin on a cattle ranch. We could put the entire building into our family room with room to spare, but I really like it. It defines ‘cozy.’ I’ve decided to stay through the summer.
I don’t have cell service here, and there’s no landline in the cabin. Just as well. I spend most of the time outside.
Sam is well, and has made a friend with the ranch dog. If you need to reach me, use General Delivery, Willow Grove, Montana.
Much love, Mom
Two days later Suzanna
headed into town
with Sam
to pick up books at the library
, intent on learning more about the area and renewing her acquaintance with the friendly librarian
.
A woman with streaks of gray in her hair was standing near the door, studying one of the posters. She looked up, and her brow furrowed when Suzanna pushed
her book returns into the slot.
Sam sniffed at the woman’s coat hem.
“Excuse me. Sam, come this way.”
“Since when does Emma let dogs in the library?” The woman’s disapproval was obvious.
“Since I told her she could,” Emma replied as Suzanna approached the check-out desk.
“Maris, are you about done, or can I help you find something?”
“I’m done.” The woman left, casting a critical look over her shoulder.
Suzanna opened the door wide so a cluster of youngsters could enter. “Hi, Emma.
”
“
Hello, yourself.
Come on in
, kids
!”
“
Are
you sure it’s ok
ay
to bring
Sam
in?
That woman seemed to think he shouldn’t be here.
”
“
Don’t mind her. She’s always chewing on sour lemons. ’Sides, if he lies down under my desk,
he can warm my feet
, like he did that other day you came to visit
.” Emma wiped her brow. “Moving this book tray around is getting harder every day.” She sat down
at her desk and watched as the children approached
the high windows overlooking the street.
“Then let me help
.” Suzanna pushed the cart down the row, stopping to place books on the shelves. “I know the Dewey system, if that’s what you use here.”
“Still do. Some folks said we should use Library of Congress, but Dewey’s always been good enough for me. I’m too old for all that work—the switchover.
Maybe when I’m gone
…” Her voice trailed off.
“Are
n’t
you feeling well?” Suzanna pushed the cart closer to the front of the room. “Sam, l
ie
down.” She pointed under the desk near Emma’s feet. Sam obliged by leaning against Emma’s legs.
“Oh, that feels good. Sam, dear. I’m giving you a treat before you go.”
His tail smacked against the desk when Emma’s feet rubbed his back.
“What w
as that you asked, Suzanna? I
t’s
just
my hip.
Been
givin’ me fits. From the we
t spring, I ’
spect.”
She watched
as Suzanna straightened
a row
of books that threatened to topple over.
“Do you think you could go downstairs and bring those papers up that I was going to put in the display cabinet?”
“Sure. Wh
ere
are they
?”
“
Look for
a pile of old newspapers
on a big white table
, a
nd some books about the county. H
istory and such.
They’re perfect for the
Fourth
of July display, but I always need extra time putting it together.”
Suzanna went downstairs.
Several
old books looked like they had been brought over the Rockies with the first settlers. Intrigued, she sat down on a dusty stool and began going through the newspapers. She uncovered a headline, “Dudes are coming!”
The
accompanying article de
scrib
ed how several ranches had started taking in guests after cattle prices plummeted.