Carla Cassidy - Out of Exile

“No, she isn’t my wife, but she’s a guest at the ranch, and one of the cardinal rules of working here is that there is no fraternization between the guests and the help. I expect you to be friendly and helpful to the guests, but nothing more.” Matthew looked at the two men. “Any other questions?”

“None from me,” Ned Sayville, the older of the two said.

Eddie Creighton, the younger of the two shrugged his shoulders. “Just tell us what to do from here.”

“There are a couple of stalls in the stables that need to be cleaned out and fresh hay laid down. Why don’t you start there, and when that’s done hunt me up and we’ll get you going on something else.”

He watched as the two headed for the stables. For the next couple of days they would be jacks of all trades until he could assess their strengths and see where they would best fit at the ranch.

Now the next problem he had to deal with was Lilly and Aunt Clara, and he wasn’t particularly in the mood to deal with either.

He’d had a miserable night, his sleep interrupted by intense nightmares the likes of which he hadn’t suffered for years. He knew Lilly’s presence was partially responsible for the recurrence of the old, familiar nightmares.

She had no way of knowing the enormous price he’d paid for those special, seemingly carefree days he’d spent with her so long ago. And if he had his way, she would never know.

But the night of reliving the worst of his past had left him with a cauldron of emotions deep inside and he knew that what he needed more than anything was a little distance and some time to get under control.

With this thought in mind, instead of heading for the moving van and Lilly, Matthew headed for the stables. Within minutes he’d saddled up his horse, Thunder, and took off, racing across the open pasture as if the hounds of hell were chasing him.

But it wasn’t the hounds of hell…it was memories of his father. Damn Adam Delaney! Damn him to hell for having no soul, for scarring his children with mental and physical abuse.

Matthew dug his heels into Thunder’s flanks. Thunder responded to his urgings and raced like the wind until Matthew reined her in, the fire in his belly dissipating to a more manageable level.

Seeing a fence post teetering precariously, he made a mental note to talk to his youngest brother, Luke about it. Luke took care of the fencing around the property, along with any carpentry work that needed to be done.

If they did sell the ranch, Luke would be all right. He was a skilled craftsman in woodworking and would never go hungry. Johnna, Matthew’s sister, would be okay, too. Married to the local Methodist minister, Johnna also had a thriving law practice. They would survive fine without the yoke of the family ranch around their necks.

It was his brother Mark that worried Matthew. Not only was Mark’s house built on the property, but his wife was expecting a new baby. Mark’s life had been working with the horses on the ranch. That’s all he’d ever done…all he’d ever wanted to do. If they sold the ranch, Mark would not only lose his livelihood but his house, as well.

Matthew didn’t know what he wanted to do. There were days when he thought that if he had to stay here one more day he’d go mad. And other days when he absolutely positively couldn’t imagine doing anything but what he was doing…managing the family dude ranch.

He rode for nearly an hour, the physical activity effectively banishing the anger provoked by the nightmares and haunting memories.

When he returned to the stables it was nearly noon and the moving van was gone. He unsaddled Thunder and brushed her down, then headed for the house.

He found Lilly and Clara in the living room surrounded by boxes, crates and the rest of the worldly possessions owned by Clara.

“Did everything arrive all right?” he asked.

Clara smiled. “Oh, yes. They did a fine job. I don’t believe a single thing got broken or scuffed.” Her smile faded and she gazed at Matthew with embarrassment. “I suppose Lilly told you that I’m an old fool and have managed to lose almost everything.”

Instantly Lilly put her arm around the old woman. “You are not an old fool. You were simply vulnerable, and unsavory, slick people took advantage of you.”

“What’s done is done,” Matthew said. “Now what we need to decide is where you’ll be the happiest here.”

Clara’s hazel eyes peered at him curiously. “What do you mean? I just assumed I’d stay in the room upstairs.”

“If you’d prefer, we could put you in one of the cottages. That way you could have all your personal things around you and your own space. It would be like having your own little home.”

It was a perfect setup. She could live rent-free in one of the cottages, and Matthew wouldn’t have to share his home with her. He could remain alone, which is just how he liked it.

Clara’s face lit up. “Oh, but that would be wonderful,” she exclaimed and clapped her chubby hands together. “And of course I could pay you rent. I do get a little social security money each month.”

“That isn’t necessary,” Matthew replied. “You’re family and family doesn’t pay rent.” The words stuck in his throat despite the fact that Clara beamed him another broad smile.

“I’d like to see the cottage before we move her in there,” Lilly said as she dropped her arm from Clara’s shoulder.

“Fine. I can show it to you now,” he said.

“While you two do that, I’ll just go finish up lunch and we’ll eat when you get back,” Clara said. Before Matthew or Lilly could say anything else, Clara bustled from the room.

“Shall we go?” Matthew asked.

Lilly nodded and together they left the house.

“The guest cottages are over there.” He pointed to a row of neat little bungalows in the near distance. “But I’m going to put her in one of the worker cottages around back.”

He cast Lilly a sideways glance. “Are you afraid that I intend to put her in a shanty?”

Her smile held a touch of guilt. “Not intentionally, but sometimes men aren’t picky enough when it comes to living spaces.” Her small smile fell aside. “I just want her to be happy and comfortable. I feel guilty that I didn’t know what was going on in her life, didn’t realize she was getting into such trouble.”

“What exactly did happen?” Matthew asked as they rounded the side of the main house.

The bungalows where several workers lived came into view. Although not as charming as the guest cottages, they were neatly painted and tidy.

“She met some man who talked her into investing everything she had in some bogus stock. He was obviously a con artist and she didn’t even question his motives. He talked her into mortgaging her house and maxing out her credit cards. When I found out what had happened, we made a police report, but of course the man had taken all her cash and disappeared. He has yet to be found.”

Matthew gestured her toward the third bungalow and they stepped up on the tiny front porch. “See? No shanty.”

She laughed, the sound deep-throated and intensely pleasant. “Sorry for being skeptical, but as I said before, my main goal is to see Aunt Clara happy and comfortable. Can we go inside?”

He nodded and she turned the doorknob, and they stepped into the cottage. It was obvious she was quite devoted to Clara. Matthew had never heard her talk about her own parents.

The story he’d heard from his father years ago was that Clara had adopted some damn fool teenage kid whose parents had gotten themselves killed in a car accident. Adam had not been just skeptical about his sister’s mental judgment, but contemptuous about the whole arrangement. He had not been able to understand why anyone would consciously make the choice to take in a teenager.