Authors: Sara Petersen
“Jo, Charlie, let me show you around the place,” Leif said, directing them to follow him. First, he showed them the barn, sliding the double doors apart and spilling light into the dark space. The smell of the barn wrapped around Jo. Rows of neatly stacked hay ran along the left and up the ladder into the loft, giving the barn a cozy, safe feeling. Jo felt a squeeze in her heart as the sweet smell of hay was like coming home to her. She used to play all sorts of games in their barn at home. Krissy and Jo had made up a game called Black Mountain, where they would pretend that the barn was their fortress, and they’d climb and play all over inside it.
Leif introduce Jo and Charlie to the horses. Seven in total, they were Sergeant, Lieutenant, Captain, Major, Colonel, General, and Kirby’s horse, Big Dan.
She didn’t believe Leif at first when he told her those were the names of the horses. “You can’t be serious. Those are ridiculous names for horses.”
Leif laughed. “I know, but the boss named the first two Colonel and General, and each time he brought a new horse home, he said it wouldn’t be fair for it to outrank a horse who’d been around longer. So… that’s how they got their names.”
Jo was puzzled for a moment. Was Leif referring to himself as “the boss”? If so, this was the second time he’d done it, and Jo found it quite odd. She hated when people referred to themselves in the third person. She decided to ignore it and hope he didn’t make a habit of it.
Leif showed Jo and Charlie the rest of the barn, including a small tack room in back with a bed and a little stove. Leif then led them out of the barn and around to the back, where a pen held the milk cow, Shirley, and her new calf. Next, he took them to the bunkhouse, which had a few sprigs of grass around it with wild daisies popping up on both sides of the door. The bunkhouse consisted of two beds made up with simple tan blankets on opposite sides of the room. A stove that matched the one in the tack room was on the end wall. The only other things in the room were two wooden shelves hanging above each window and a plain chair in the corner. It was small. Jo tensed, realizing she would have to share this cramped living space with the newly acquainted Charlie. She had never considered living arrangements when accepting the job.
How daft could I be? Well, there is nothing to do about it now. I will just have to pretend that Charlie is my younger brother
.
Leif cut in to Jo’s thoughts, “This is where you will be staying, Charlie. I hope you like it. This is as homey as it gets.” Charlie beamed at Leif, still excited beyond measure to be ranching instead of cooped up in town. “Why don’t you get settled in here while I take Jo up to the house? Come on up when you are done, and we will talk over the plans for this week,” he continued, slapping Charlie on the shoulder.
Surprised and relieved that she wouldn’t be staying in the bunkhouse, Jo followed Leif to the big house. Walking through the heavy front door, she was immediately enveloped by the fresh wood smell of the new house.
“You must have recently built this house. I can still smell the lumber.”
“We finished everything necessary to moving in a year ago, but there is still work to be done,” Leif answered.
Jo was becoming more curious about Leif and his relationship to Kirby. They had an easy camaraderie, and for not being related by blood, they seemed awfully comfortable and familial. Feeling it might be rude pry, she kept quiet, assuming that over time she would learn more about how they were connected.
The front entry of the home was roomy and clean with a row of silver hooks on the wall for coats and hats. Beautiful glass double doors closed off the room to the left, but glancing through it, it appeared to be a study or a library. Jo could see thick books lining the walls. Straight ahead a hallway led to the back of the house, and stairs ascended next to it. The railings and spindles were skillfully carved, but had yet to be stained. Leif led Jo to the right of the front entry first. They entered a large parlor with deep sofas and a massive oval rug in the center, covering the pine floors. The gray stone fireplace was the largest Jo had ever seen in a farm home and had a thick wood mantle nestled into the rock. Everything in the room seemed extra large to Jo; even the sofas weren’t the prim parlor seating she was accustomed to. The two identical green sofas faced each other, their seats low to the ground with deep soft cushions. It looked impossible for someone to sit back in them and still have their feet firmly on the floor. On impulse Jo moved a quilted pillow to the side and sat down, scooting all the way back until her spine touched the cushion. Her feet dangled about six inches from the floor.
Leif smiled at her and nodded to her dangling feet. “We aren’t very formal here in Montana.”
Jo, realizing how silly she must look, quickly scooted forward out of the sofa. Warm light danced off two smaller stuffed chairs that were placed in front of the window, with a wood side table between them. Jo liked this room immensely. Today the light was bright and cheerful, shining through the paned windows and reflecting off the smooth, pearly stones of the fireplace, but Jo guessed that on a stormy day, the room would be just as welcoming with its deep sofas and warm rug.
Continuing the tour, they moved to the back of the house, where one large room extended the whole length, with the kitchen on one end and a vast wood table for dining on the other. Jo was starting to feel dwarfed by the substantial furnishings; everything was built larger in this home. Oddly enough though, she felt warmth, imagining happy people gathered around the table for dinner. Despite the vastness of the home, its furnishings, and unfinished appearance; it was the most likable dwelling Jo had ever been in, excluding her own beloved home, of course.
As they toured the house, Leif explained a few things to her, “I grew up next to Kirby and Mattie. Half of my childhood was spent in their home, and half of my whippings came by his hand. Kirby has ranched all his life. As he got older and the ranching turned from open range to barbed wire, it became difficult for him to maintain his own land. So, he sold his ranch about a year ago and moved to Montana. That’s partly the reason for the new house. Before Mattie and Kirby came, we lived in the bunkhouse and tack room year round.”
Jo smiled, “It’s a beautiful home…and I’m anxious to meet Mattie. Kirby can’t stop talking about her.”
“Yeah, she’s the best woman I know. Kirby won’t be bothered with most women, but Mattie has him wrapped around her finger. They’ve been a team for as long as I can remember. She’s been visiting family in Great Falls for over two weeks now but should be home any day. You’ll love her.” He grinned. “Nobody can resist Mattie, especially after you’ve eaten at her table. Kirby and I have been taking turns being the cook. I think I’ve lost ten pounds.” He joked, patting his lean middle.
Jo followed Leif out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the second floor. The walls around the second floor landing and the hallways were papered in a creamy white with tiny pink roses you had to look closely to see. The landing split the second floor in half. Leif pointed to the left and said, “That door at the end down there is my room.” Then opening the door in front of Jo, “This is the water closet, electric lights and indoor plumbing included.”
Jo’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “I have to confess; I didn’t expect Montana to be this…modern,” she said while scanning the bathroom. It was clean and bright, with a long white claw footed tub that looked like pure heaven to Jo. If ranching was as hard as she imagined it would be, the tub would come in handy.
Leif chuckled, “It’s not. In fact this is one of five outlying homesteads in the county that have electricity. We are part of an experiment to see if it’s cost effective to extend service to rural homes and ranches. It surprises most people to discover we have electricity in this part of the country, but it shouldn’t…we also have a lot of water.
Jo nodded her head and joked, “So how is it that you were picked for this experiment. Are you naturally lucky?”
“Actually I am,” Leif quipped, grinning boastfully before turning down the hallway. Jo smiled and followed him around the banister to the other two doors. He held the second door open for her. “This is where you’ll be staying.”
Jo stepped into the room. It wasn’t overly large and looked like it had been left untouched since completion of the house. It was a forest of white pine; the walls, floors, bed, and dresser were all made from the same light wood and were the only things occupying the room. A large window overlooked the back of house. The view was the best thing about the bare bones room. From the window Jo could see the glistening fields all the way until they met the tree line, which extended up and up into the deep, blue mountains. It was lovely, and with a few homey touches, namely bedding, curtains, and rug, this room was more than Jo had hoped for.
“I wasn’t expecting to hire a woman, so I had the bunkhouse shored up getting ready for new hands, but this room,” Leif paused, looking around, “is…”
“Perfect,” Jo completed for him, “I was prepared to have Charlie for a bunkmate,” she smiled wryly.
Leif was relieved that she appeared to like the room. Hiring Jo was one thing, but on the ride to the ranch, it occurred to him that housing Jo in the bunkhouse with Charlie would be inappropriate. He didn’t know if situating her in the house and on the same floor with two bachelors was exactly suitable either, but what other options did he have? At any rate, Mattie and Kirby were just down the stairs, and knowing Mattie as he did, she was plenty of a chaperone. Besides, Leif had experienced only one little pang when Jo had smiled and turned her pretty blue eyes on him, but he wasn’t attracted to her. What he was really worried about was the boss. He wouldn’t like the arrangement one bit.
A second later, Kirby came panting into the room, carrying one of Jo’s heavy luggage trunks. “Mighty sparse accommodations,” he observed, looking around. “Pretty view though” he added, walking over to the window.
Jo joined him at the window, her eyes sweeping over the cobalt mountain peaks still covered in snow. She saw Charlie in the yard, playfully wrestling a dog. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Kirby and Leif who were next to her. An overwhelming sense of belonging swept over her. The rightness of being here branded itself on her heart.
“It sure is,” Jo breathed, agreeing with Kirby’s observation.
C
hapter Eight
Raising the handles of the posthole diggers high over her head, Jo thrust downward into the soft earth with all her might. The hole was about two feet deep. One more foot and it would be deep enough to place the post in the ground. The muscles in Jo’s forearms shook with effort as she forcefully jabbed the diggers into the soil. Pulling the handles apart, she lifted a load of dirt out of the hole and dropped it onto the pile of soft earth. Squatting to pick up the thick post, she wrapped one hand under it and one over and swung it upright into the hole, then kicked the pile of dirt back into the opening with the toe of her new expensive boots. She took the end of a long shovel and beat at the dirt to push it to the bottom of the hole. Once the post was secure, Jo leaned the front of her shoulder on it and looked at the long line of posts she had placed in the ground at the edge of the pasture. The sight of the posts standing straight and even in the dimming light moved Jo.
It had been a daunting task when Leif drove her and a wagon load of posts out to the pasture two mornings ago, explaining that this would be her job, while he, Kirby, and Charlie planted crops a field away. Full of enthusiasm, Jo had set to work immediately, and the first seven or eight posts that morning were in place rather swiftly. By the tenth post Jo had hit a patch of rocky dirt, and every thrust of the diggers shot vibrations up her arms. At the end of the day, she was depleted of all strength. Wearily she crawled into bed and was a breath away from drifting off when she remembered she hadn’t said her prayers. She rolled slowly from the bed to kneel at its side, resting her arms and head on the quilt. “Heavenly Father, I thank thee. Amen.” Then promptly she fell asleep on the wood floor. The next morning she awoke with awful soreness in her shoulders and arms, along with more fence posts to place.
Now, as Jo stared at the posts, she tried to remember when she had felt this much gratification at the end of a task, and couldn’t. The sun dipped behind the trees to the west just as Kirby rode up on Major. She knew it was Major because he was the horse with the white star between his eyes. Kirby walked the horse closer to Jo, appraising the line of fence posts as he did so. Secure in her work, Jo waited for his approval.
With a brisk nod he said, “Well done. Now hop on up here, and I’ll give you a ride to the house. Mattie’s home and dinner’s on.”
Jo’s eyes lit up when he said dinner. Food sounded so good. She looked at the wagon with the remaining posts in the back, and at the posthole diggers and the shovel lying on the ground. “I’ll be along shortly. I need to put the wagon and tools away.”
Jo surprised Kirby. Not only were the posts in the ground, but she had done it in good time, and despite the weariness she must feel, she wouldn’t quit until the equipment was taken care of. He looked at her gruffly for a minute, hating to be impressed by anyone. She was a mess, with her hair drenched in sweat and dirt smeared across her cheeks, but her eyes were lively. He thought about telling her to stop being tough and just get on the horse and come eat dinner, but he suddenly felt that telling her to do so would be an insult somehow. The look in her eyes told him he was right, so Kirby ducked his head, turning his horse away, and said, “I’ll see you in a bit then.”
***
Jo entered the long kitchen with clean hands, face, and spirit. She felt that she had somehow passed this first test and hopefully would earn a position at the ranch all summer. The work was hard but rewarding. As Jo approached, everyone was still sitting at the table, visiting comfortably after their meal. A woman—obviously Mattie—pushed her chair back and came to greet Jo with open arms. Jo had been away from home a full month now, and Mattie’s motherly embrace nearly brought tears to her eyes.
“Oh, it is so good to meet you. I’m Mattie. I can’t tell you how delighted I was to come home and find another woman on the ranch. It’s better than Christmas,” she suggested warmly.
Mattie was a round woman, a couple of inches taller than Jo, with silver hair swirled in a loose bun at the back of her neck. Her skin was light, and she had rich brown eyes with small wrinkles at their corners. She wore a lovely dress, and a red apron dotted with flour was tied around her middle.
Jo laughed off the compliment, “Oh please don’t compare me to Christmas. I’ll never live up to it.”
Wrapping her arm around Jo’s shoulder, Mattie gave her a squeeze and steered her toward the table and into a chair. A plate of fried chicken, creamy mashed potatoes dripping with gravy, and a side of crisp green beans was placed in front of Jo. Everyone else had already eaten and cleared their dishes from the table. Jo felt self-conscious eating in front of everyone else, but she was ravenous after the labor of the day, so saying a quick blessing in her head, she picked up a chicken leg and took her first crispy bite. It tasted even better than it looked.
Mattie asked Jo all sorts of questions through dinner, about her home and family, her years as a schoolteacher, her travel west, and how she ended up at the ranch. Jo was grateful for the conversation after weeks of having only herself for company. The last two days at the ranch with Leif, Charlie, and Kirby had also passed in relative silence. Any talking they did involved work plans for the day, and generally the four of them had been so tired by sundown that they had barely spoken at the dinner table. This morning a small dialogue had taken place at breakfast, but the sum of it had been Leif, Charlie, and Jo trying to decipher amongst themselves what exactly it was they were eating. Kirby had placed plates high with gray chunky liquid with little black bits in it over burnt biscuits in front of them. Jo had had a hard time choking it down and offered during breakfast to take over kitchen duty until Mattie returned. Leif and Charlie had looked hopeful, but it was short lived as Kirby, insulted, had squashed her request. Watching Charlie’s head drop forlornly and stare at the mess of gravy on his plate this morning, Jo had to pick up her napkin and hide her smile behind it.
Now, glancing at Charlie, she listened to him animatedly talk about the new calf born this morning. Mattie’s dinner had obviously bolstered his spirits.
Placing her napkin on the table, Jo said, “That was delicious. Thank you, Mattie.”
“You are more than welcome. Charlie informed me all about the cook that replaced me while I was away. Ranch work requires good food,” she teased, placing her hands on Kirby’s shoulders with a light press.
Kirby replied, “I never heard any complaints from this bunch.”
“Ha, I was too weak from hunger to complain.”
“Well, I don’t recall anything
you
cooked in the last two weeks that was exactly edible, Leif,” Kirby rebutted, glaring hotly at him.
Mattie settled the argument. “It’s nice to be missed even if it is just for my cooking.”
Kirby reached up to pat Mattie’s hand that still rested on his shoulder. “It’s not just your cooking we missed.”
Mattie smiled down into his eyes. Jo was touched by the sweetness between them. All she had witnessed of Kirby in the last two days led her to believe he was an unsociable and slightly grumpy old man. It appeared the one weak spot in his crusty demeanor was Mattie.
After dinner Jo took her dishes to the kitchen, where Mattie was washing the others, and picked up a towel to begin drying. Appreciative of the help, Mattie handed each dish to Jo and then told her which cupboard it belonged in.
“How was your visit in Great Falls? Kirby said you have a sister there?” Jo asked.
“It was nice, but I am glad to be home. I don’t like being gone too long from Kirby.”
Again,
Jo was surprised by their open feelings. She knew her parents had loved each other, but it was rare that they openly expressed it. A few times a year she would see them hug, and once right before Pa had passed away, Jo had been walking in the orchard when she came across Pa and Ma sitting on the bench under an apple tree, mother resting her head on Pa’s shoulder and holding his hand. Jo thought it was mainly Pa who wasn’t openly affectionate; it wasn’t in his nature. Even when Johnny had come home from the war, Pa had only extended his palm in a firm handshake and pulled Johnny in to slap him on the back. That was as close to an embrace anyone ever received from Pa. Mother, on the other hand, had barged past Pa and enfolded Johnny in a long hug, relishing the feel of him alive and well in her arms. Mother had always been tender to the children. Before Jo had stepped onto the train to head west, Mother had held her tightly and stroked her hair, then pulling away with loving eyes, she’d cupped Jo’s cheeks in her soft hands, saying, “My Jo, my Jo.”
“I met Kirby the summer I turned sixteen when he was on the threshing crew that came to help with harvest. We’ve been together forty-five years now,” Mattie said, handing Jo a dish. “He wasn’t always so surly. Aging is tough on a man who enjoys working hard; that and the range wars the last few years have taken their toll.” Mattie paused, holding the wet dishrag, and turned to look at Jo. “Don’t let his bark scare you; it’s an act. He’s already fond of you. I can tell.”
How Mattie could tell, Jo would never know, and truthfully, she didn’t know how much Kirby’s approval mattered. Leif was the one who had hired her, and this job was only for the summer. It would be wise to avoid becoming too attached to the ranch and the people here. Of course, Mattie’s easy manner was already making that difficult.
They finished with the dishes, and being tired and well fed, Jo retired to her bedroom. It was cozier now with her bright quilt lying across the bed and her comb, brushes, and other toiletries atop the dresser. Leif had found an old oval mirror and had given it to her to hang over the bureau.
Jo walked to the dresser, picked up the silver frame holding her family’s photograph, and sat on the bed. It had been taken two years earlier in the front yard of the farmhouse. Mother and Father sat on a wicker bench; behind them in handsome suit coats stood Johnny, Caleb, and Travis. In long white skirts, Krissy and Jo framed the end of the back row. Krissy looked beautiful in this photograph. Two days before the photograph was taken, she had marched into the living room with her hair cut short in a wavy bob. Mother was shocked, but Jo thought it complemented Krissy perfectly. She was taller than Jo, with saucily arched eyebrows and baby doll lips that always made Jo feel like the dowdy older sister in comparison.
Jo examined every face in the photograph, carefully avoiding Pa’s, too tired to fight back the waves of pain that would come if she didn’t. She wanted
this
. This photograph right here in her hand represented all the wishes in her heart: a noisy family of her own, with a man she loved by her side, and a home filled with memories. Sighing sentimentally, she placed the frame back on the dresser and prepared herself for bed.