Nadia Nichols - A Family For Rose

“Need a set of plug wires for McTavish’s Moline. We’re making hay today. And it’s morning, Schuyler, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Do tell. Been a while since McTavish did much of anything out to his place. This have something to do with that rich and famous daughter of his coming back home?” He already had a pack of cigarettes in his hand and was tapping one out. “I heard she might be plannin’ on stickin’ around for a while. That right? Seems kind of funny, a famous singer wanting to stick around a place like this.”

“I need those plug wires, Schuyler. The day’s half wasted.”

After he’d gotten what he came to town for, Billy stopped by Willard’s and asked for the day off, told him about his new work schedule and drove back to the ranch through the three open gates. He thought about how they really should be closed, how the horses never should’ve gone from this place, or the beef cows...or Shannon. McTavish said she wouldn’t stick around for long, and he was probably right, but she’d come back here looking for something, and he hoped she found it. He hoped she’d make up her mind to stay and raise her little girl here. It was a good place to raise a kid, and Rose seemed like a good kid.

McTavish was up and waiting, and the coffee was hot and strong.

“Been thinkin’,” Billy said after he’d poured himself a steaming mugful. He stood at the kitchen door and looked out across the valley, watching as long fingers of golden sunlight stretched across the land. “Maybe we could fix up that old windmill, the one that used to pump water to your upper pasture. Might make the grass grow better. We’ll need a lot of hay to winter the stock we buy this fall.” McTavish said nothing in reply, just pulled on his jacket. Billy took a swallow of coffee. “I got the plug wires installed and the tractor’s ready to go whenever you are.”

“Don’t know what difference any of it’ll make in the long run,” McTavish said.

Billy set his mug in the sink.

“We’ll find out,” he said. “Let’s make us some hay.”

* * *

SHANNON SLEPT SOUNDLY and awoke with a start, surprised that the day was already in full swing. She glanced at her watch but didn’t need to. She could still measure the morning hours of ranch life by the sounds and smells and the sunlight. It was 8:00 a.m., the day half gone.

“Rose, honey, it’s time to get up.” She nudged the small bundle curled beside her in the bed, smoothed her palm over the warm curve of her daughter’s cheek. Rose made a soft mewling and burrowed deeper beneath the quilt, never quite awakening.

Shannon tucked the quilt around Rose and left the warmth of the bed, moving to the window. The air still held the cool of the night but was rapidly warming. She could hear the distant guttural growl of a tractor.

Her bedroom window overlooked the barns, the molten shine of the creek, the roof of the cook’s cabin and the old bunkhouse. The lower fields were out of sight, on the other side of the creek, but she suspected the sound came from there. If Billy was helping her father, there really wasn’t much she could do in the fields until the hay was baled tomorrow. Today she’d go to Willard’s, buy some decent groceries and cook them a decent meal.

She could wash the windows and cut down the weeds growing around the sides of the house. She could sweep off the porch and pick up the trash. Brush the burrs out of Sparky’s and Old Joe’s manes and tails. Take Rose for a ride. There was no end of chores to keep her busy, and certainly no excuse for her to be lying abed when so much needed doing.

She showered in the small, drab bathroom with the peeling wallpaper and wiped the steam from the mirror afterward, staring at the thin face with the blackened left eye.

The swelling was almost gone and the colors around her eye had morphed, gradually, from dark purple to a mottled greenish yellow. Makeup helped to hide the bruises, but there was no forgetting, especially when she looked in the mirror, how awful the last few years of her life had been. Travis’s last visit had come after the divorce was finalized, and he’d left her lying on the foyer floor. The very next day she’d filed for a restraining order, packed her things and left with Rose.

Shannon dried and brushed her hair, dressed swiftly in jeans, a T-shirt and a fleece sweatshirt, and carried her shoes down the kitchen stairs. The coffeepot on the gas stove was still warm. She poured herself a cup and carried it out onto the porch. Tess was sleeping at the top of the porch steps, letting the morning sun warm her old bones.

Shannon sat beside Tess, drinking her coffee and letting the sun warm her bones, too, while she gently stroked the old dog. Yesterday she’d wondered if it had been a mistake to come back. Today she felt a little better about things. She had no idea how long she and Rose would stay, but right now she wasn’t going to worry about the future. She was going to fix breakfast for her little girl and then go to town and get some groceries.

There was hay to make...and she had her own fences to mend.

* * *

THEY QUIT AT NOON, not because they wanted to, but because the cutter bar broke. The field was almost finished when the bolt sheared off. McTavish had gone back to the barn to get more gas when it happened. Billy heard the sudden disjointed clatter and disengaged the cutter bar. Diagnosing the problem was easy. The fix would be, too, as soon as he picked up a new bolt, but that meant another trip to town if he couldn’t find a replacement in the tractor shed.

By the time he’d removed the sheared-off bolt, McTavish had returned with the gas. He climbed out of the cab, slammed the door of the truck, lifted the gas can from the back and turned to face Billy.

“Shannon’s gone,” he said bluntly. “Took Rose and left. No note, nothing. I knew she wouldn’t be able to settle for this place.”

Billy shook his head. “She’d have told you if she was leaving.”

McTavish took his hat off and whipped it against his pant leg. His eyes narrowed as he looked across the vast expanse of newly cut grass. “Didn’t make a damn bit of difference, this morning’s work.”

Billy didn’t know what to say. The wind had picked up and the sweet smell of fresh-cut hay filled the air. It had been a good start to a good day, but suddenly the sky didn’t look quite so blue. “We need a new bolt for the cutter bar,” he said, holding up the shorn piece.

McTavish was still gazing across the big hay field. “I never could talk to her.” He shook his head. “Never could.”

“There might be a spare bolt up in the tractor shed,” Billy said.

McTavish didn’t respond. Just stood there, holding the gas can and staring off into the distance. Billy started walking back toward the ranch. He was about to duck inside the tractor shed when he heard a vehicle coming down the road. A rooster tail of dust plumed behind the dark-colored Mercedes as it emerged at the bottom of the steep grade and headed toward the ranch, pulling to a stop up by the house.

Shannon was in the process of unloading boxes from the car when Billy reached her. She stopped at the bottom of the porch steps with a box in her arms and gave him a wide open smile. It was so beautiful and unexpected that he stopped and struggled to catch his breath while his heart did backflips.

“Morning,” he said.

“Good morning,” she said. “Rose and I went to town and picked up some real food, or as real as food gets at Willard’s. I’ll fix some sandwiches, so’s you and Daddy can eat quick and get at it again. Rose, honey, Tess’ll live without you for a few more minutes. Can you come here and give your momma a hand with these groceries?”

The little girl jumped up from where she’d been crouched beside Tess on the shaded porch and raced to her mother’s side even as Billy closed the distance between them.