B.J. Daniels - Wedding at Cardwell Ranch

Mildred was on her fourth husband and lived in one of the more modest mansions at Big Sky. Of her two sons, Nick had been the baby—and clearly her favorite.

Nick had laughed that day when his mother had asked if his new wife could cook. “She makes pretty good chili, I’ll give her that,” he told Mildred. “But that’s not why I married her.” He’d given Allie a side hug, grinning like a fool and making her blush to the roots of her hair.

Nick had liked to say he had the prettiest wife in town. “Just make sure you stay that way,” he’d always add. “You start looking like my sister and you can pack your bags.”

The red, cast-iron, covered pot she was now reaching for had become her chili pot.

“Allie, I thought you’d thrown that pot away!” Drew reached to stop her, knocking the lid off in the effort. It clattered to the counter.

Allie lunged back, her arm going up protectively to shield her face. But this time the pot was empty. No half-dead squirrel inside it.

“I’m throwing this pot in the trash,” Drew announced. “If just the sight of it upsets you—”

“No, your mother will have a fit.”

“Let her.” He swept pot and lid off the counter and carried it out to the garbage can.

When he came back into the room, he looked at her and shook his head. “Allie, you’ve got to pull it together. Maybe you should go back to the doctor and see if there is something else he can give you. You’re strung like a piano wire.”

She shook her head. “I don’t need a doctor.” She just needed for whatever was happening to her to stop.

His gaze moved past her, his expression going from a concerned frown to a smile. “Hey, girl,” he said as his five-year-old niece came into the kitchen. He stepped past Allie to swing Nat into his arms. “I came over to check on the two of you. Mama was going to cook us some dinner but I think we should go out to eat. What do you say?”

Allie started to argue that she couldn’t let Drew do any more for them and she sure couldn’t afford to go out to eat, but stopped as her daughter said, “Are you sick, Mama?” Her precious daughter looked to her with concern. Allie saw the worry in Nat’s angelic face. She’d seen it too much lately. It was bad enough that Natalie had recently lost her father. Now more than ever she needed her mother to be sane.

“I’m fine, sweetie. It’s too hot for chili, anyway. So let’s go out, why not?” Allie said, relieved and thankful for Drew. Not just for coming by to check on them, but for throwing out the pot. She hadn’t because her mother-in-law was upset enough and the Taylors were the only family she had, especially now.

“Just let me freshen up and change,” she said as Drew took Nat to look for her shoes.

In the bathroom, Allie locked the door, turned on the shower and stripped off her clothes. She was still sweating from fear, her heart beating hard against her chest.

“You found a what in the chili pot?” her mother-in-law had asked in disbelief when Allie had called her—a huge mistake in retrospect. But at the time, she’d hoped her mother-in-law would understand why she couldn’t keep the pot. Why she didn’t want it in her house.

“I found a squirrel in that cast-iron pot you gave me. When I picked up the lid—”

“No way would a squirrel get into your cabin, let alone climb under a heavy lid like that. Why would it? You must have imagined it. Are you still on those drugs the doctor gave you after my Nicky died?”

Allie’s husband had always been “my Nicky” to his mother while Mildred had insisted Allie call her “Mother Taylor.”

“No, Mother Taylor, I told you.” Allie’s own mother had died when she was nineteen. Her father had moved, remarried and started a new family. They’d lost touch. “I quit taking the pills a long time ago.”

“I think it’s those pills,” Mildred had said as if Allie hadn’t spoken. “You said they had you seeing things that weren’t there.”

“The squirrel was there. I had to take it out back and—”

“If I were you, I’d talk to your doctor. Why do you need the pills, anyway? It isn’t like you’re still grieving over my Nicky. Charlotte Reynolds told me she saw you having lunch the other day, you and Natalie, and you were laughing.”

Allie had closed her eyes, remembering the lunch in question. “I am trying to make things more normal for Nat.”

“Well, it looks bad, you having a good time while your poor husband is barely cold in his grave.”

She wanted to mention that Nick wasn’t in his grave, but knew better than to bring that up. “It’s been eight months.”

“Like you have to tell me that!” Mildred sniffed and blew her nose. She’d cried constantly over the death of her favorite son and couldn’t understand why Allie wasn’t still doing the same.

“We all grieve in our own way and I have a young daughter to raise,” Allie had said more times than she wanted to recall.

The phone call had ended with Mildred crying and talking about what a wonderful man her Nicky had been. A lie at best. He’d been a lousy husband and an even worse father, but now that he was dead, he would always be the wonderful man Mildred remembered.

After that, she’d learned her lesson. She kept the other crazy things that had been happening to herself. If Mildred knew, she would have her in a straitjacket. And little Nat...? She couldn’t bear to think about Mildred having anything to do with raising her daughter.

“So,” Drew said as she and Nat sat across from him in a booth at a local café later that evening. “Did I hear you’ve gone back to work?”

It was impossible to keep anything a secret in this canyon, Allie thought. She had hoped to keep it from the Taylor family as long as possible.

“Dana Savage called me about doing a Western wedding up at her ranch for her cousin Tag and his soon-to-be wife, Lily.” She didn’t mention that she’d accepted the job several months ago. Or how badly she needed the money. With the investigation into Nick’s presumed death still unresolved, the insurance company was holding off paying her. Not that it would last long if she didn’t get back to work.

Her mother-in-law kept mentioning “that big insurance check my Nicky left you,” but the insurance money would barely cover a couple years of Natalie’s college, if that. And Allie hoped to invest it for that very use.

“I’ve been doing some work at Cardwell Ranch. Nice people to work for. But are you sure you’re up to it?” Drew asked quietly, real concern in his tone. “Mother mentioned that she was worried about you. She said you were still taking the pills and they were making you see things?”

Of course Mildred told Drew and his sister, Sarah, everything. Allie tried not to show her irritation. She had no appetite, but she attempted to eat what she could. She didn’t want Drew mentioning to his mother, even accidentally, that she wasn’t eating much. Mildred would make it into her not taking care of herself.

“I’m fine. I’m not taking the pills. I told your mother—”

He held up his hand. “You don’t have to tell me about my mother. She hears only what she wants to hear. I’m on your side. I think going back to work might be the best thing for you. So what do you plan to do with Natalie? I don’t have to tell you what Mother is going to say.”

“Nat’s going with me,” Allie said emphatically. “Dana has children she can play with. As a matter of fact, Dana is going to teach Nat to ride a horse.”

Natalie grinned and clapped her small hands excitedly. She was the spitting image of Allie at that age: straight, pale blond hair cut in a bob, green eyes with a pert little nose and deep dimples. Allie got the blond hair from her Scandinavian mother and the green eyes from her Irish father.