Snow Melts in Spring (3 page)

FOUR

BRISK AIR WHIPPED THROUGH MATTIE’S JACKET, REMINDING HER IT was still winter despite the fair weather. Now that Jake had gone on to fix fence after tending the heifer, Mattie gave the dappled mare free rein and rode across the dry prairie, careful of the large clusters of flint rock. She stopped on one of the taller mounds and gazed out at the land, which stretched for miles in every direction. A flock of Canada geese flew overhead, and Tulip’s ears perked at their haunting call.

Acknowledge and take to heart this day that the Lord is God in heaven above and on the earth below. There is no other.

She breathed in the fresh air, and her lungs tightened from the cold. Then the hum of an engine broke through the stillness as a small aircraft descended overhead. Curious, she raced Tulip down the hill for a closer look.

Minutes later, Mattie slid the horse to a halt as a man in jeans and a red jacket tossed a large duffel bag over the fence of the McCray property. He climbed through the barbed wires as though he owned the place.

She’d heard about money-hungry businessmen scoping out ranches and getting their grubby hands on every stitch of tallgrass left in the county. It reminded her too much of her own family’s ordeal.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She pitched the mare forward with every intention of running over the intruder. “This is private property. No trespassing.”

The tall, haughty man didn’t seem the least bit disturbed by the close proximity of the horse. Instead, he smiled and hitched the bulky bag onto his back. “I could tell you the same.”

Mattie glared at the stranger. “I don’t know who you are, but you don’t want to mess with John McCray.” She motioned toward the aircraft now setting up for lift-off. “I suggest you hurry, or you’re going to miss your ride.”

The broad-shouldered man instead began walking in the direction of the house. After a few moments, Mattie dug her heels into Tulip’s side and caught up with him. She guessed the fellow to be in his late thirties and couldn’t help but notice how the brown curls against his forehead accented his blue eyes. “What did you say your name was?”

He stopped and turned. “I didn’t, but since you brought it up, who are you, and why are you riding my father’s horse?”

Mattie’s eyebrows scrunched in doubt. Could this be the star quarterback the whole county admired? The man who abandoned his father’s ranch, who couldn’t call his own dad in the hospital? Upon closer examination, he did bear a grand resemblance to John. They both possessed thin upper lips, bushy eyebrows, and the very same cleft in their chins.

“Gil?”

“One and the same.”

Mattie wished she had a cowboy hat to cover her embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“That’s quite all right. It’s refreshing not to be recognized for a change, Miss . . .”

“Mattie Evans. I’m a friend of your father’s.”

Gil’s brow wrinkled as though trying to put a face with the name, then his lips flattened into a straight line. “That’s funny — I didn’t think the old man had any friends.” He continued his trek across the pasture.

Unable to let the comment pass without rebuttal, she clicked her tongue to move Tulip forward. “Not that you’d know or care, but your father has lots of friends. It’s a shame he can’t say the same about family.”

Gil stopped abruptly. “What are you implying, Miss Evans?”

“Only that you couldn’t be bothered to visit your father when he needed you most.” Mattie raised her chin, daring him to deny the statement.

“What makes you an expert on my family?” His sudden irritation could have torn the hide off one of John’s steers.

“I told you — I’m a friend. I care about your father.”

“And I don’t? You don’t know the first thing about me and my father — how things are with us.”

Mattie fidgeted in her seat. Perhaps she’d gone too far. “I know this. If you walk up to your father’s doorstep unannounced, you’ll likely send him into cardiac arrest.”

Gil’s sudden arrival had certainly jump-started her heart. In fact, it took her breath away. She hated to think what John’s reaction might be. Patting the mare’s sleek neck, she stole a peek at the quarterback’s chiseled face.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll ride ahead and let John know you’re here.”

“I’d be obliged if you would,” Gil said, a forced politeness in his tone. “I could use a little time to get my thoughts in order.”

“I imagine your dad would appreciate the same.” With a flick of the reins, Mattie moved ahead of him, past a squeaky windmill.

“The prodigal son returns.” His sarcastic tone echoed against the clear blue sky.

Mattie glanced back and saw his cynical grin. Galloping onward, she whispered a prayer that the two McCray men wouldn’t butt heads like two bulls in a pasture.

MATTIE LED HER MOUNT INTO THE MCCRAY BARN, SURPRISED TO see John sitting on a hay bale.

“How did Tulip do? The mare didn’t fool you into thinking she was tired, did she?” John teased, a muffin crumb stuck to the stubble on his chin.

“No, she didn’t pull any tricks.” Mattie took her time unbuckling the leather saddle strap, unsure how to inform the man of his son’s arrival.

“Tell that to Gil. Last time he was here, he wanted to sell her. Insisted Tulip was too lazy to catch up to those steers. A lot he knows — got sidetracked with football and lost interest in cowboy ways.”

Mattie remembered going to the local rodeos as a girl but was too young to recall Gil. “My sisters said he could have gone pro.”

The aged rancher stood and leaned on his wooden cane. “I guess he had other ideas.” John’s heavy fist slammed against Tulip’s saddle with a loud smack, causing the horse to prance to the side. Mattie shoved the mare back into position.

“If you ask me, football ruined him.” John’s displeasure carried through his gruff tone. “Those college coaches with their fancy scholarships got their hands on him, and he got too big for his britches. Didn’t give ranch life a second glance after that. Just off and left for bigger things.”

Mattie had seen in her own family how pride and fortune could bring a person down and guessed that’s what had happened to Gil. “Speaking of Gil — ”

“One of these days, some cowboy’s gonna sweep you away from here too, Mattie. I feel it in my bones. My luck, I’ll already be in my grave and will miss hearing your sweet voice say
I do.
”

Mattie laughed. “I swear you’re worse than my daddy.”

“Don’t think marriage won’t happen. You’re a dandy girl. Don’t settle for second best.”

“I’m content to live the life God’s given me right here in Charris County. Especially if I can wake up to these hills every morning.”

John chuckled, then his expression turned sober. “These hills won’t keep you warm at night. I know that for a fact.”

Mattie’s cheeks flushed at his remark. She heaved the sturdy saddle off the mare’s back and eased it onto a stand, glad for the excuse to exert a bit of energy. Fearing the subject might change again, she forged ahead with her news. “You’ll never guess who I saw coming down out of the sky, right there in your pasture.”

John’s eyes gleamed. “Superman?”

She took Tulip’s lead rope and headed to the stall to feed the horse a little grain. “No, it was Gil. He’s walking up to the house right now. Should be here any minute.”

John’s face paled. He looked at her as though she’d hit her head on a rock in the pasture and given herself a concussion. “What are you talking about? Gil’s in Wisconsin.”

A hulking shadow appeared in the passageway of the barn. “No, Dad, actually, I’m not.”

FIVE

GIL SET HIS DUFFEL ON THE GROUND. “A FRIEND OF MINE GAVE ME A lift in his plane.” Gil jammed his hands in his jean pockets, feeling strangely awkward being back home. He studied the man he hadn’t seen for so long, surprised by how much he’d aged. What was his father now, seventy-two?

Not wanting to stare, Gil turned to the red-haired woman lingering in the horse stall. Pretty and strong-willed, as already evidenced by her dramatic welcome in the pasture, why would she befriend an old man like John McCray? At least, he hoped they were merely friends. His mother had been gone for a couple of years and no doubt his father suffered bouts of loneliness. It wouldn’t be the first time an old-timer hooked up with a girl less than half his age. The idea sickened him.

“I probably should have called, but with the game and all . . .”

“No need to explain.” With the help of a cane, his father moved closer, then stopped.

At this range, Gil saw the deep lines etched in the weathered face. Again, he looked away, this time at his brown leather loafers — not the worn cowboy boots he used to wear as a teen. Another reminder of how much things had changed.

“I’m surprised you came, considering how busy you are.”

Gil lifted his gaze to stare into eyes that mirrored his own. “I would’ve come sooner if I could have.”

His father scowled. “I’ve heard that before.”

The comment hit Gil harder than any linebacker ever had. “You know I had no choice then. I did everything I could to get home before she died.”

“Whatever you say.” His father waved his hand in a disgusted manner as Miss Evans eased her way from the shadows. “I guess you’ve met Mattie.”

“She’s a better watchdog than Hank.” Gil kicked his heel against the dirt floor and watched as the woman neared. “So, Miss Evans says she’s your
friend
?” He tried to keep the revulsion in the pit of his stomach from coloring his tone.

“Miss Evans is the vet I told you about. The one caring for your horse.” The answer came out clipped, a biting punishment for thinking the worst of his old man.

Gil’s jaw dropped from embarrassment and surprise, and he fumbled for his next words more than he’d ever fumbled a football. “I’m sorry . . . Dr. Evans . . . I didn’t realize.”

Mattie’s face lit with amusement. “That’s quite all right. It’s kind of nice to be recognized as a woman instead of the town veterinarian.”

Eager to recover from his blunder, Gil reached out his hand to greet her. “How’s Dusty doing? You operated on him, right? Are you sure you did everything you could?”

The doctor’s expression grew taut as she removed her hand from his. “Last I checked, your horse was still breathing.” She brushed past him without further explanation.

Gil noticed the steadiness in her gait as well as her petite frame and build. She rode a horse well too. “Tell me, was the operation a success? How bad were Dusty’s injuries? You’re a small woman. How many large animals have you handled, anyway?” He trailed the doc to a white Ford pickup that had a metal box in the back for supplies.

“I’m on my way to the clinic if you’d like to see for yourself.” She stopped at the driver’s door and turned suddenly to face him, closing the distance between them in seconds.

“Let’s get one thing straight, though.” She poked the center of his chest with a steady finger. “I graduated top in my class and own a respectable practice, despite men like you who shy away from female vets. Regardless of what you think, I know how to treat Dusty’s wounds, but until I have your cooperation, I’m not laying another finger on your horse. Do you understand what I’m saying?” She glared at him, her squared-off shoulders only reaching to his chest.

Not wanting to feed her anger, Gil tried to force down the grin that threatened to appear. She was cute when she got her dander up.

“You’re free to take Dusty to K-State. The veterinary college has better facilities than mine.” She spun on her heels to return to her truck.

Gil reached for her shoulder and felt the fragile bones beneath. “That won’t be necessary, Dr. Evans. I’m sure your care will be satisfactory. After all, my father says you’re the best.”

This seemed to mollify the doc’s irritation, but rather than concur, she climbed into the truck and slammed the door. “In that case, hop in.” She turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine.

Gil rushed to the other side and struggled to climb aboard as she spewed dust in the air with her tires.

He looked back to see his father raise his cane in farewell.

Gil gripped the door. “We’ll talk later,” he called out, all the while wondering about the mean-spirited woman who’d just tried to run over his toes. “That is, if I make it back in one piece,” he muttered to himself.

When they reached the end of the lane marked by a limestone fence, Gil decided to ask the question foremost on his mind. “You’re not related to Owen Evans, are you?” He knew the answer before the words were out of his mouth. How many Evans could there be in Diamond Falls?

“He’s my father.”

“You’re Bridgett and Jenna’s sister?”

“That’s right.” Mattie glanced at him, and he noticed her eyes. Wide set and a deep shade of green, like turf on a football field. “Didn’t your brother date Jenna? I remember him coming over when I was a kid.”

Gil nodded. “Yeah, they dated.” He faced the passenger window and shut his eyelids in an effort to block the painful memories.

“I’m sorry about your brother. Your dad speaks often of Frank.”

Animosity roused within. “I’m sure he does.” Frank and his father had shared a special bond ever since Gil could remember.

“I think he misses him and your mother more each year. Especially since his attack.”

Gil jerked to attention. “What do you mean,
his attack
?”

Mattie’s eyes narrowed. “Your father had a heart attack right before Christmas. Surely you knew that?”

A wave of nausea tore through Gil as he tried to mask his shock. He recalled his father’s cane, his frail condition. “I guess it wasn’t something he cared to share with me,” he said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “So, tell me about your sisters. Do they still live around here?”

“I’m the only one who had the sense to stay. My folks live in Kansas City near Bridgett, and Jenna moved to Texas after she married.”

Gil’s heart thudded. He wanted to know more about the oldest sister, but hated to ask. “What about the home place? Is that where you have your practice?”

“It sold at auction.” Mattie’s lips tightened, and he could have sworn she aimed for the next pothole with perfect precision, crowning his head on the roof of the cab.

“Go easy on those ruts. You’ll give this truck a flat tire, and I’ll have to change it.” Gil braced himself against the door in anticipation of the next jolt, but she surprised him by slowing down.

“I don’t need a man to do the work for me.” She frowned. “When I think about my parents’ ranch, my blood boils. Three generations of hard work, all for nothing.”

Gil studied the woman across the seat and wondered if she was anything like her sister. He never remembered Jenna being concerned about the land. “Where do you live?”

“I bought Doc Bryant’s place when he retired.”

The old vet’s practice had never been a thriving business. More like one about to crumble, and that was twenty years ago. “Tell me about Dusty. Is he in a lot of pain?”

The truck jostled onto a paved road, and Mattie headed toward town. “Like I said, the damage was extensive. He lost a lot of blood and has substantial swelling. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.” Her cell phone chimed then, and she answered the incoming call.

As the doc’s voice faded into the background, Gil stared out the passenger window at the familiar landscape. He thought of the many times he’d driven this road, pulling Dusty in his trailer. Ever since he’d heard about the accident, Gil had been unable to stop the deluge of memories — of riding rodeo with Frank, of his mother — and of Jenna.

He rubbed his forehead and allowed the memories of his youth to rush back.

The people in the stands became a blur as Gil and Dusty broke from the box, Frank right behind in the arena. Swinging his lariat, Gil chased the steer less than fifty yards and nailed him on his first try. Frank heeled the steer immediately after.

Still on their horses, they both listened for the official time. Once announced, Gil glanced over at Frank. “Think we stand a chance at Nationals?”

Frank smiled, his pupils dark with their usual intensity. “Are you kidding? We’re undefeated.”

Mama waited with the others at the chutes, her hair pulled low in a ponytail. “I guess all the rodeos we took you to are finally paying off.”

“Those late night ropings didn’t hurt either, did they, Son?” His dad looked up at Gil and slapped his horse on the flank. “Even if it did interfere with your homework, or datin’, or even those darned football practices. I’d say making it to the National High School Finals Rodeo is more important than some football game, wouldn’t you?”

Frank jumped off his horse and into Jenna’s open arms. “No comparison in my book. Never have understood what you see in that sport.” Frank liked to tease, but Gil knew what attracted him to football. It was the one thing Frank didn’t excel at, the one thing Gil could hold over his brother . . .

The doc’s truck swerved onto the main street in Diamond Falls, and Gil’s forehead thumped against the passenger window, bringing him back to the present. Though tempted to run from the mounting complications, Gil vowed to see this visit through, even if it meant putting up with his father, the memories, and Dr. Mattie Evans, the sister of the girl he’d used to betray his brother.