Читать книгу Montana Hearts - Charlotte Carter - Страница 11

Kurt gave Sarah a brief tour of the house, then showed her the very large, modern kitchen.

“You could feed an army from this kitchen,” Sarah commented. Miles of granite counters and oak cabinets lined one side of the room. The window over two extra-deep stainless steel sinks looked over a fenced backyard with grass and flower beds that needed care. Beyond that a row of poplar trees formed a bright green windbreak.

A round oak table and chairs were placed on the opposite side of the room with a view to the east.

In the center of the room was a butcher-block counter. Above that dozens of gadgets hung from a rack, some of them Sarah couldn’t even identify.

“Zoe really liked to cook,” Kurt said. “She had the kitchen remodeled and expanded several years ago so she could have bigger parties.”

“Very impressive.” Sarah rarely entertained. Until recently she hadn’t had the strength.

“Your bedroom with a private bath is back here.” Kurt led her past what she took to be a pantry and supply room. “Originally this room off the kitchen was for a servant, but Zoe turned it into a guest room. My brother and his family come to visit once in a while. They live in Denver.”

Sarah drew a quick breath as she stepped inside. Though simply decorated, the room had a homey feel to it. A handmade quilt covered a cherrywood double bed and there was a matching dresser with a vase of artificial daisies sitting on it. Sheer curtains covered the one window and on the walls, original watercolor paintings featured Western scenes. An oval hooked rug brightened the hardwood floor.

“This is lovely,” she said. “Your wife had very good taste.”

“Yeah, she did.” He backed out of the room. “I’ll help bring in your things, then you can start dinner. I checked and it looks like Nana Grace defrosted some steaks.”

Steaks? Sarah rarely ate red meat but she supposed tonight could be an exception. Assuming she could figure out how to cook them.

An hour later, she’d unpacked her bags and stood staring at four huge T-bone steaks wondering what to do with them. She’d managed to find some shredded lettuce and tomatoes, and cut up some baby carrots to add to a salad. She figured Kurt was a big eater, so she put a loaf of bread and butter on the table.

But for the life of her, she couldn’t find a broiler pan big enough to hold all the steaks.

Willing to admit defeat, she went in search of Kurt.

Toby was sprawled on the living room floor watching television.

“Toby, do you know where your dad is?”

He continued to stare glassy-eyed at the antics of comic characters determined to lop off each others’ heads with laser swords.

“Toby?” When he still failed to answer, she shrugged. She’d find Kurt herself.

She turned down the hallway that led to his office. She found him there staring at the computer screen in much the same way Toby was watching TV. A disorganized pile of invoices sat on his cluttered walnut desk and old magazines and farm catalogs covered half of the nearby couch.

She knocked on the doorjamb and he looked up, a frown tugging his brows together. She opened her mouth to ask about cooking the steaks, but before she could speak, he said, “Do you know anything about computers?”

She blinked, caught off guard by his question. “Some. What seems to be the problem?”

“Beats me. I’m supposed to be able to pay my bills online. I clicked on something and the whole screen went blank. It’s just plain gone.” He glared at the screen as if he could, by force of will, make the device do what he wanted it to do.

“Would you like me to try?” Fortunately, her computer skills were considerably better than her cooking prowess.

He moved out of his dark leather chair, and she took his place. A few quick clicks of the mouse and a spreadsheet appeared.

“Is this what you were looking for?”

As he bent over to peer at the screen, she caught the scent of sage and wild grass on the prairie. The essential perfume of both Kurt and his land.

“That’s incredible. How did you do that?”

“You must have accidentally hidden the whole work sheet. All I did was unhide it. You should be fine now.”

They traded places again.

“Did you want something?” he asked, his attention back on the computer screen.

“I was looking for a broiling pan to cook the steaks. I couldn’t find one.”

“Grace grills them.”

“Oh.” His answer wasn’t very helpful. She guessed he was referring to a barbecue grill she’d spotted on the back porch.

It took a couple of tries to light the propane but finally Sarah dropped the steaks on the grill.

Back in the kitchen, she set the table and poured milk for Toby and Beth and water for herself. She wasn’t sure what Kurt would want to drink with his dinner, so she held off on that.

Beth came stalking into the kitchen, a cell phone in her hand. “Isn’t dinner ready yet? I’m starved.” She plucked a cookie out of a rooster-shaped cookie jar with one hand while the thumb of her other hand nimbly sent a text to someone.

“The steaks should be ready any minute.”

Beth glanced at the stove, then toward the back door.

“Something’s on fire!”

Sarah’s head snapped around. “The steaks!” She grabbed a plate, a long-handled fork and raced out the door.

Flames leaped up around the steaks. Grease sizzled and sputtered. The rank air smelled of burned meat.

Sarah stabbed a blackened steak and dragged it onto the plate. She speared the next steak, singeing her wrist in the process. She jerked back and the steak slid off the fork onto the porch.

“Turn off the propane!” Beth screamed. “You’re gonna catch the whole house on fire.”

Sarah ceased her efforts to rescue the steaks. Burning down the house was a real possibility. She turned the knob on the propane bottle, but that didn’t immediately extinguish the flames.

Beth’s shouting had rousted Toby away from the TV.

“Hey, a bonfire on our porch. That’s cool.”

Kurt shoved past his son. “I’ll get it.” He twisted the propane knob again, starving the flames of fuel. They sputtered one more time before vanishing.

In the silence that followed, Sarah took a deep breath. Her heart was rata-tat-tatting so fast she thought it might leap out of her chest.

“I am so sorry,” she said.

Kurt took the plate from her and piled the rest of the steaks on it. “No real harm done except to these steaks.”

The poor things looked like lumps of charcoal. “I’ve never barbecued before. I didn’t know how long—”

“Talk about being stupid,” Beth complained.

Kurt nailed her with a look that would have terrified anyone else. It didn’t seem to faze Beth.

“One more word out of you, young lady, and you’ll do without dinner altogether.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “Nobody can eat that stuff anyway.” Head held high, ponytail swinging, she stomped back into the house.

Sarah suspected Beth’s attitude was more self-defense than rebellion.

Dear Lord, show me a way to help this child, who is so desperately crying out for love and understanding.

They’d all survived dinner, barely, by scraping off the charred layer on the steaks. Even so, Sarah thought eating the meat was like chewing hardtack.

With Kurt’s help, she’d cleaned up the kitchen. Then he’d vanished back into his office to work on the accounts. Beth was still upstairs, pouting. Toby had resumed his place in front of the big-screen TV. From her perspective, the show he was watching looked too violent for a nine-year-old. Or an adult, for that matter.

The family ought to be doing things together, she thought. That’s the only way they’d heal their grief.

She went to her room to retrieve her oversize tote that contained her ventriloquist’s dummy. Dr. Zoom came fully equipped with a white lab coat, stethoscope, wire glasses and a Pinocchio nose.

For the past several years, when she was able, she had volunteered one morning a week at the University of Washington Medical Center. She donned a costume and became Suzy-Q, clown extraordinaire, visiting the pediatric oncology ward. Dr. Zoom told silly jokes and listened to his own heart instead of the patient’s. She’d spent hours in front of a mirror making sure her lips didn’t move when she spoke in Dr. Zoom’s voice.

As Suzy-Q, Sarah also did face painting. All of this in an effort to pay forward some of the kindness that she had experienced as a child.

The best medicine she could give a sick child was a chance to smile and laugh, a few minutes of simply being a normal kid.

Maybe she could give the same gift to Kurt’s children.

Returning to the living room, she sat on the couch and adjusted Dr. Zoom on her lap, his legs dangling over her thigh.

“Vhat’s dat kid doing?” Dr. Zoom asked in a fake German accent.

“He’s watching TV,” she responded.

“Vaste of time, I say.”

Toby remained glued to the TV show, not so much as looking over his shoulder to find out who was in the room.

“Well, what should we do?”

Dr. Zoom looked up at her, his long nose quivering. “Ve could drop a bomb on the boy?”

“No. That wouldn’t be very nice.” Sarah wasn’t at all sure Toby would even react to a ton of TNT going off.

“Hee hee hee. KABOOM!”

Very slowly, Toby turned his head and frowned.

“What’a’ya doing?”

“Is the boy alive? Let me listen to his heart.”

Sarah manipulated Zoom’s stethoscope to the middle of his own chest.

“Oh, no. I hear nothing. Nothing! The boy is—”

“You’re trying to listen to your own heart and you don’t have one,” Sarah pointed out.

She definitely had Toby’s attention now. His glassy, hypnotized look had been replaced by a note of interest.

“Vhat? No heart? Vhy don’t I have a heart?”

“Because you’re a dummy.”

Dr. Zoom twisted his head around to look at Sarah.

“It’s not nice to call people names.”

“I’m not. You really are—”

“Don’t say that.”

“But you—”

The quick exchange between Sarah and Dr. Zoom started Toby laughing. He shifted his position to watch her, the violent TV show forgotten.

“Way cool. How do you do that?” he asked.

“Do what?” she asked innocently.

“Make the dummy talk.”

“You mean ventriloquism?”

“Now see vhat you’ve done?” Dr. Zoom shook his finger in Sarah’s direction. “Tell him it isn’t so. I’m not a—you know—vone of dose.”

“Yeah, you are,” Toby insisted.

“Is zat what you think? Huh. I vill show you. You know vhat you get when you cross a pair of trousers with dictionary? Huh, you know vhat?”

“Naw, I don’t know. What?”

Dr. Zoom did a little hop on Sarah’s thigh. “You get a smarty-pants, that’s vhat. A smarty-pants like you, huh?”

Toby’s giggle was infectious, and he had a wicked, little-boy gleam in his eyes. “Hey, Sarah, can you teach me how to do that?”

“But of course, young man. I am the greatest teacher in the world.”

“What’s she going to teach you, son?”

They both looked up at the sound of Kurt’s voice.

“Sarah’s a ventriloquist, Dad. It’s really cool. Her lips don’t move at all. An’ she’s gonna teach me.”

Just like his son, Kurt cocked his head to the side. “Ventriloquist?”

Her face flushed and she shrugged. “A little hobby I have.”

“Really? I used to love stuff like that when I was a kid.” He sat down cross-legged opposite her, his grin as eager as Toby’s. “Show me.”

Dr. Zoom proceeded to conduct a ridiculous conversation with Kurt about being a bowlegged cowboy. Kurt laughed and so did his son, the cares and battles of the day forgotten.

Sarah hoped her botched dinner would be as quickly forgotten.

Toby made an effort to speak without moving his lips, which left the words unintelligible. “Hey, I don’t get it.”

“If you really want to learn, let’s start with some easy exercises. There are lots of sounds you already make without moving your lips.”

“Like neighing like a horse?” Kurt asked.

The realization that Kurt was interested, too, gave Sarah’s heart a little jolt. She couldn’t help reacting to the mirthful twinkle in his golden-brown eyes. Her mouth felt dry and she had to lick her lips. “It’ll be easier if we start with the vowel sounds, A, E, I, O, U. Try making those sounds without moving your lips.”

Toby gave it try, slipping only on the O and U sounds. Kurt repeated the exercise with the same level of success.

She grinned. “I can see you’re both going to be great students. You practice and we’ll work on lesson two after you feel comfortable with those sounds.”

Later in the guest room, she sat down and opened her laptop. First she sent an email to Tricia Malone, who was handling her business in Seattle while she was gone. Without providing any details, she explained she’d be staying in Sweet Grass Valley for the summer and promised to call her soon.

Then she ordered a couple pairs of jeans, casual tops and some sturdy shoes online. Her city clothes weren’t at all suitable for the rough wear and tear of ranch living.

That task accomplished, Sarah slipped between the crisp sheets on the bed and picked up her Bible-study book as she did every evening. Tonight’s passage was from Colossians 3:12. “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” (NIV)

Sarah would certainly need patience with Beth, compassion with Kurt, who was still grieving, and gentleness with Toby. She prayed she would be up to the task the Lord had given her.

And do no harm, she warned herself as her eyes closed and the book slipped from her fingers.

The following morning, Kurt recruited Toby to help him move the mother herd to the north section to graze on the fresh grass. Beth, who could handle cattle well enough when she wanted to, claimed a headache. He didn’t press the issue.

“Come on, Ellie Mae. Let’s keep the girls moving.”

Speaking in a calm, easy voice, Kurt reined his horse Pepper closer to the lead cow and her young calf, who had slowed their pace. His approach caused Ellie Mae to accelerate to her previous speed, and the rest of the mother herd followed suit, their calves trotting along beside them.

“That’s my girl,” Kurt murmured. “You remember how sweet the grass is in the north section, don’t you?”

On the opposite side of the moving herd, Toby held his position so the cows wouldn’t wander off track and mosey down into the gully that cut through this section of the Rocking R Ranch. As young as he was, Toby had been riding since before he could walk and held his seat well on Longtail, a dun-colored gelding Kurt had broken to saddle a decade ago. He remembered how Zoe had watched him work the horse during those late summer evenings, the setting sun streaking her blonde hair red and gold.

The image of her shimmered in his memory like a distant mirage. His breath caught in his throat, his heart lunging an extra, painful beat.

He touched his heels to Pepper’s flanks and forced thoughts of Zoe away. She’d been gone for over a year. A stupid accident, a wrong-way driver hit them while they were on their way to a second honeymoon in Seattle and had nearly killed him, too.

In those early days, with Zoe in a coma and barely alive, Kurt had almost wished he had died first. He wouldn’t have had to make the most difficult choice in a man’s life—to let the woman he loved go. He’d prayed. He’d railed at God. Pleaded. Bargained. Cursed. Blamed Him.

Brain dead. Vegetative state.

Those words thundered in his skull like a depraved farrier banging a horseshoe into shape around a villainous anvil.

How could Kurt blame God when he’d been the one who had agreed to remove Zoe’s respirator?

In the course of a year, he’d gone from that catastrophic moment to having another woman living in his house. A tidy package of spunk whose silly antics with a dummy had made him laugh again. Even now, the memory of the prior evening brought a smile to his lips.

When they reached the north pasture, Kurt eased away from the herd to let them graze on their own. With the cows stopped, the calves didn’t need a formal invitation to start suckling their moms.

Past the boundary of the Rocking R, Kurt noticed a surveying crew at work. Curious, he wondered what Ezra Stone, his closest neighbor and owner of Double S Ranch, was up to.

“Can I go back home now, Dad? I told Joey I’d ride over to his place today. He’s got a new Nintendo game.”

“Sure, son. Just be sure you’re back for supper.”

“’Kay.” Reining his horse around, Toby touched his heels to the gelding and took off at a gallop.

Kurt could only hope the horse had enough sense not to step in a prairie dog hole and break his leg.

Deciding to check on the surveying project before he went back to the barn, he trotted over to the fence. A pickup owned by T&K Engineering of Billings, MT, was parked nearby.

“Morning,” he called to the closest man, who was wearing an orange safety vest and a Seahawks ball cap.

“Morning.” A young guy, he tipped the bill of his cap. His sideburns reached all the way to his jawline.

“What’s the survey for?”

“Don’t know. We’re just mapping the elevations and putting corner stakes in.”

Kurt lifted his Stetson then resettled it on his head. “Ezra didn’t tell you what he’s planning to do?”

“Nobody named Ezra hired us.” He checked his clipboard. “Looks like an outfit called Western Region Cattle Feeding hired us. They’re headquartered in, uh, Cheyenne.”

Dread landed in his chest with the weight of a boulder. Adrenaline surged, readying him for a fight. He tightened his hands on the reins, which made his horse back up a few steps.

He knew that outfit. There’d been talk of them on the ranchers association website and articles in the Billings newspaper. They ran concentrated animal feed lots and had a reputation of not caring what sort of environmental damage they did as long as they showed a profit.

“Are they going to put in a feed lot here?”

The surveyor lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “No idea. I just measure and note, that’s all.”

“Have they gotten a permit already?” Kurt pressed. He hadn’t been notified by the authorities or read anything in the newspaper. Maybe it was still pending.

“Beats me.” The guy switched his ball cap so the visor was in the back and sighted his equipment toward his partner, who stood a couple hundred feet away.

If a feed lot so close to the Rocking R wasn’t properly drained, it could turn the nearby spring creek into a polluted garbage dump. Kurt’s herd wouldn’t be able to drink the water. He’d have to fence it off. Maybe even need to dig a new well if he wanted to keep cattle grazing this northern section.

Why on earth would Ezra sell or lease his land to an outfit like Western Region Cattle Feeding? And how could Kurt make sure the feeding operation was either stopped or forced to comply with environmental water quality rules? And monitored.

He wheeled Pepper toward home in a slow walk. Given the tension in his household—Beth on a razor edge of rebellion and his new housekeeper—and now the threat of a concentrated feeding operation butting up against his land, Kurt knew the summer was going to be filled with nothing but trouble.

To Sarah’s dismay, she’d learned that ranchers get up before dawn to start their day. She’d barely had a chance to dress before Kurt and Toby finished their breakfast and were out the door.

She cleaned up the dishes, then took a moment to sit at the kitchen table, drink a cup of tea and watch the eastern sky change from the pink of sunrise to the baby-blue of a summer day.

Beth came into the kitchen wearing a nice pair of designer jeans and a stretchy top that bared an inch or two of skin around her midsection. A little mature for a twelve-year-old, Sarah thought, but she didn’t say anything.

Without acknowledging Sarah’s presence, Beth dropped a couple of pieces of white bread into the toaster and found a jar of peanut butter in the cupboard.

“Good morning, Beth. Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.”

“Huh.”

“After I put on a load of wash—” which she had discovered in an overflowing laundry hamper “—and do a little dusting, I thought I might pull some weeds in the flower beds out front.”

“My mother took care of the flowers.” The toast popped up, and Beth spread peanut butter on each slice.

“It’s a shame to let the garden go. I’m sure the flowers were beautiful when your mother was alive.”

“I guess.” Beth took a bite of toast, then got out a pitcher of orange juice from the refrigerator and poured herself a glass.

“I’d love to have you help me pull some weeds.”

“Can’t. I’m going to ride my bike into town. I’ll be home in time for supper.”

Beth’s casual announcement stopped Sarah in her mental tracks. “I thought I heard your father say you were grounded.”

She washed down the first piece of toast with a big gulp of juice. “Dad won’t care. He just said that ’cause Nana was so upset, having one of her stupid spells.”

Sarah had the niggling feeling that she was being conned by a budding expert. “Let’s check with your dad, okay?”

“He’s way out in the north pasture. There’s no way to reach him. And I’m tellin’ you, he won’t care.” She tossed her long hair behind her shoulder and started on the second piece of toast.

“Doesn’t he have a cell phone? We could call him.”

Beth stopped eating. Her gaze darted around the room, looking everywhere except right at Sarah.

“You don’t know anything about living on a ranch, do you?” she said in a disdainful way. “There are dead zones out here where you can’t get any cell service.”

“I saw you texting on your cell last night.”

Beth’s fair complexion bloomed with a spark of anger.

“That was here at the ranch. Not way off in the north section.”

“Well, then, we have a problem, don’t we.” Picking up her tea cup, Sarah walked over to the sink and set the cup down. “I can’t let you go anywhere unless I’m sure you have your father’s permission.”

Stunned, she widened her eyes. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” she screeched.

Sarah winced. She really didn’t like confrontations. “No, I’m not, Beth. If there is no way to reach your father, then we’ll simply have to wait until he gets back home.”

“No way!”

Sarah knew her response wasn’t what Beth had hoped for. She was equally sure Kurt had grounded his daughter. Until she heard otherwise, she’d do whatever she could to keep Beth at home.

As calmly as possible, Sarah rinsed out her cup and set it on the drain board.

“You can’t do this to me,” Beth protested. “You’re not my mother.”

Sarah dried her hands on a paper towel. “Do you know where the furniture polish is kept?”

Making a growling sound like a angry bear, Beth threw up her hands. “Okay, you win. We’ll get Dad back here, and he’ll tell you that you’re not in charge of me.” She stormed toward the back door.

Not knowing what the girl was up to, Sarah followed her outside. The border collie she’d seen yesterday met them on the porch, his tail sweeping the air that still smelled of burned steak.

Beth stood in front of a large bronze gong hanging from an overhead beam. Fancy scrollwork made it look as though it had originally come from China.

“Hit this as hard as you can.” The muscle in Beth’s jaw flexed, her eyes narrowed as she handed Sarah the hammer. “He’ll hear it wherever he is. Then you’ll see.”

Using a gong to communicate seemed primitive to Sarah, but she gave it a solid whack. The metal vibrated, sending out waves of sound that echoed inside Sarah’s skull and started the dog howling.