Nadia Nichols - A Family For Rose

“Here,” he said. “Better let me take that one, that looks heavy.” He lifted the big cardboard box from Shannon’s arms.

“Thanks. I picked up enough to get us through the haying. No more canned beans and franks with stale bread, thank you very much. My mother was a good cook and she taught me a few things.”

“Your father came back to get some gas for the tractor, saw your car was gone and figured you’d left for good.”

Shannon was gathering another box of groceries into her arms. She glanced up with an exasperated expression. “I pinned a note beside the screen door. The wind must’ve blown it off. If he’d checked my room he’d have seen my things. He was probably happy to think I’d left so soon.”

Billy climbed the steps one at a time, slowly, but he climbed them, carrying the heavy box of groceries. He set the box on the table and she set hers right beside it. Rose added the five-pound bag of russets she’d lugged up.

“He’s hoping you stick around.”

“Be nice if he showed it.” Shannon turned away to unpack the box she’d carried up from the car. “Thank you, Rose,” she said. “Why don’t you bring that bowl of water out for Tess, in case she’s thirsty.”

When Rose had left the kitchen, carefully balancing the water bowl, Shannon continued unpacking. “I’ll get the last box,” Billy said, and descended the porch steps, wondering how Shannon and her father had ever drifted so far apart. Shannon was organizing the groceries as he reentered. Her expression had become introverted. Thoughtful.

“Tuna sandwiches okay?” she asked.

Billy nodded. “Sounds great. I came back to find another bolt for the cutter bar. I’ll go look for one in the shed, then get your father. He’s still out with the tractor.”

The wall phone rang as he was heading for the kitchen door and Shannon set the cans of tuna on the counter and reached for it. “McTavish Ranch, Shannon speaking,” she said, and then Billy watched as her expression changed and her entire body went rigid. She listened in silence for a few moments before interrupting.

“Don’t you dare come here, you hear me?” Her voice was low, taut with emotion. “I’ll have you arrested if you violate that restraining order. I mean it. You stay away from me, and you stay away from Rose.” She hung up without waiting for a reply. Her face was pale, and when she raised a hand to smooth the hair off her forehead, the tremble was noticeable. She cast a quick glance out the kitchen door to where Rose crouched beside the old dog, coaxing her to drink, then drew a shaky breath and crossed her arms around herself. “I’ll have lunch ready by the time you get back.”

Billy paused with one hand on the doorknob. “Your father told me about your divorce.”

“I bet he did,” she said bitterly.

“You’re safe here, Shannon,” he said, ignoring her reaction. “If Travis Roy is stupid enough to show up, there won’t be much left for the sheriff to arrest.”

* * *

AFTER THE PHONE call from Travis, Shannon could barely focus on the simple task of making a stack of sandwiches and heating a pot of soup. She told herself that Travis wouldn’t come here, he wouldn’t dare, but he still had family in Lander. Lander was a ways from their valley, but it was still too close as far as Shannon was concerned. He’d said he just wanted to talk to her, to see Rose. Said he had something for her and swore he’d quit the drinking and the drugs, but he’d made every promise in the book these past few years and broken them all, over and over again. She was through believing his lies and living in fear. The divorce was final. She was done with him. The only thing left for the courts to decide was the custody of Rose, and she was confident she’d win that battle.

She stirred the soup as it came to a simmer, cut the sandwiches and put them on a platter. Poured some tortilla chips into a bowl and put that on the table along with a pitcher of milk and four glasses. Finding four soup bowls proved a challenge, but she came up with three mismatched bowls and washed out the bowl she’d mixed the tuna in, filled an old mixing bowl with the fruit she’d bought, and put that on the table as well, dead center.

The screen door squeaked open, banged shut and Rose burst into the kitchen. “Momma, can we go riding now?”

“No, honey, it’s lunchtime. Go get washed up.”

“Can we go riding after?”

“Maybe.”

Rose studied her for a moment, her expression becoming fearful. “Did Daddy find us?”

Shannon felt her heart wrench. She was still too emotionally raw to hide the effects of Travis’s phone call from her daughter. “Go wash up, Rose. It’s all right, we’re safe here.”

“Are we going to stay with Grampy forever?”

“For now. I don’t know about forever. Nobody does. Go wash up.”

After Rose had gone upstairs she heard boots climbing the porch steps and moved to the door. Billy had returned, alone.

“Your father’s truck was gone when I got back to the tractor,” Billy explained as he came into the kitchen. “I went ahead and fixed the cutter bar on the mower. I’ll finish that field after lunch and start on the second. Ought to be able to turn the hay once before dark.” He hung his hat on a peg by the door and eyed the table. “That looks mighty good.”

“It’s just a stack of sandwiches,” Shannon said.

“You haven’t seen the chow we normally eat around here.”

“Oh, I got a pretty good taste of it last night,” Shannon said, ladling out the soup while Billy washed at the sink. She filled three bowls and set the remainder on the stove for when her father got home.

“You probably got used to eating pretty fancy while you were living in Nashville,” Billy commented, dropping into the same chair he’d used at supper the night before. Rose thundered down the stairs and claimed her own seat, eying the food expectantly.

“We were pretty spoiled,” Shannon admitted as she joined them at the table, passing the platter of sandwiches. “Rose especially loved our cook, didn’t you, Rose?”

Rose shook her head vehemently and made a face. “She made me eat yucky things.”

Shannon laughed. “Rose doesn’t like fancy food.”

“Neither do I,” Billy confided to Rose. “Give me plain and simple any day.”

“Plain and simple’s all they shell out at Willard’s, so the both of you should be very happy,” Shannon said. “Napkin in your lap, Rose.”

“It’s not a napkin, it’s a paper towel, Momma.”

“Pretend it’s fine linen and remember your manners, young lady.”

Rose heaved an exaggerated sigh as she put the paper towel in her lap. “Are you always going to have a plate in your head?” she asked Billy.

“Rose!” Shannon chastised her.

“Yup,” Billy said. “The docs told me the plate was permanent. I asked if they could throw in a fork, knife and spoon but they couldn’t fit ’em in there.”

Rose giggled until Shannon caught her eye. “How long were you in the military, Billy?”

“Eight years. After four tours of duty I thought my life was pretty much over when I was wounded. That little piece of land and the house I’m building beside the Bear Paw is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I owe a lot to your father for making that possible.”

Shannon felt a twinge of resentment. It was noble of Billy to have served his country, and terrible that he’d been so horribly wounded in action, but he’d stolen her dream. That was her little house he was building in her special spot. Billy and her father had stolen her dream and it was hard not to resent them both for slamming the door on the future she’d planned for herself and Rose here at the ranch.