Читать книгу Rocky Mountain Homecoming - Pamela Nissen - Страница 11

The next morning, Zach sat across from Mr. Harris in his office just like he’d done every single morning from the day he’d taken over as foreman.

While he waited for his boss to finish reading something, he peered at the man’s well-built, handsome desk—just another mark of Joseph’s expertise. Joseph, the second in the line of Drake brothers, had been building furniture with Aaron, the third in line, for several years now. Joseph’s legendary, satin-smooth finish didn’t suffer one bit from his lack of sight. Thoughts of his brothers’ successes filled Zach with pride—but also determination to do just as well, to work just as hard for his own success.

Mr. Harris shifted in his generous leather chair, grabbing Zach’s attention. “I need to discuss something with you, Zach.”

“I’m listening.” Zach grasped the scrolling chair arms a little tighter, unable to shake the grim feeling hanging over him. “Is everything all right?”

The forced look of concession inching across his boss’s face wouldn’t have seemed a bit out of place if he’d been held at gunpoint. He grimaced. “Violet thinks that I should be more up front with you than I have been.”

“About …”

“About my health.” The half defeated way the man’s head hung for a brief moment strummed a deep chord of compassion in Zach.

The idea that Mr. Harris would admit to this confirmed its severity. And that he’d take anyone’s advice on the matter took Zach by complete surprise. He knew that Violet cared deeply for her employer, and had a way of saying things to Mr. Harris that no one else would think to say, but still …

There’d been times over the past months when Zach had wondered if Mr. Harris and Violet cared for each other beyond a working relationship, yet had been unable to recognize the signs. It was a comfort to know that Mr. Harris had Violet to rely on, but Zach was committed to doing his part, too, to help his employer.

Mr. Harris yanked his hat from his head and slapped it on the desk. “Violet thinks that I should probably let you know—” He shifted in his seat again. Turned and peered out the window with a certain amount of longing, as though freedom stretched beyond these walls. “I’ve been feeling more poorly than I’ve been letting on. Violet’s been worried sick about me even though I’ve told her that I’m going to be just fine. But that ornery woman threatened to spill my health woes to the town if I didn’t at least let you know.”

Zach worked furiously to bat down his outright shock. Mr. Harris was a proud man, and the last thing he’d want was sympathy spooned out to him. “Boy, she means business, doesn’t she?”

“You’re telling me.” The man rested his elbows on his desk and leaned forward, steepling his fingers in front of him like he often did when he was faced with a tough situation. “It’s hard enough knowing that my health is the reason Ivy is back.”

Zach propped his right booted foot above his left knee. “You know about that?”

“I’m no fool, Zach.” He raised one dark eyebrow over an eye in that studious way that instantly brought to mind a petite, auburn-haired young woman. “I know good and well that Violet had to have penned a letter to Ivy. But just between you and me … we’ll let those two ladies think that they’re getting by with something.”

A grin tugged at one side of Zach’s mouth. “All right.”

“Good man.” Mr. Harris winked on a nod.

Zach breathed a little easier for a moment, but not for long. His boss’s health was shaky, at best. The fact that Violet had threatened him like that said as much. The woman could be almost as headstrong as her employer.

“I’m sorry about all of this, Mr. Harris.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He held up his hand. “I’ll be fine. It’s nothing more than a sour stomach now and then, maybe some cramping, too.”

Zach clasped his hands between his knees. “How long have you been sick, anyway?”

Mr. Harris pinned Zach with one of his don’t-press-too-far gazes. “A few months.”

Zach’s mouth hung open in rebellious shock. “A few months? Why didn’t you say anything?” he probed, frustrated and yet, he could hear Ben’s voice from last night, challenging Zach in a similar vein. “I could’ve done more to help out.”

Mr. Harris leaned back in his chair again. “It’s probably just a passing illness, and all of Violet’s fussing will be for nothing,” he dismissed, tapping his knuckles on the wide chair arm. “Besides, if I wasn’t able to get out on the ranch, well then, I might as well just dig my own grave right now.”

“Is there something I can do to help?”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing. You’re a good man out there, Zach.” His boss’s intense gaze bore into Zach. “A lot like I was at your age.”

Zach swallowed hard. “What about Ben? Don’t you think you should let him look you over? He could help.”

“Take no offense,” he replied on a wince. “But I learned, a long time ago, that doctors just poke and prod. They don’t know much more than their patients do.”

“But I know that Ben would be glad to—”

“Zach, I carted my wife all over creation, looking for a doctor who’d help. And what did it get me?” His knuckles grew white as he gripped the arms of the chair.

Zach had only heard bits and pieces about just how sick Mrs. Harris had been. He’d learned this much … Mr. Harris had loved his wife, but no amount of love or care could heal her. Her suffering had been long and great.

“So,” his boss continued, perching his hat back on his head. “I’m feeling fine today. I’ll probably be feeling better tomorrow, and who knows … the next day I might just be feeling like myself again.”

Zach sat up straight, looking his employer in the eye. “I’m glad you said something.”

The man chuckled with a definite amount of irony as he pushed up to standing. “Son, I didn’t have a choice. Violet’s holding my feet over a fire and I don’t care to get burned.”

The clumsy way he grabbed for the desk, as though he was unsteady on his feet, sent alarm shooting straight through Zach. He stood, keeping an eye on his boss’s every move in case the man toppled over. “You’ve been good to me, Mr. Harris. Is there anything else I can do?”

The man slowly crossed to the window and braced his hands on the wide golden pine trim. For a silent moment he peered outside at where the sun had inched up a little higher, christening the day with brilliant light. “You want a job?” he asked, his back to Zach. “Because this one won’t be easy.”

Zach pulled his buckskin gloves from his back pocket. “I’m up to the task.”

Turning, Mr. Harris kept one hand on the window trim as he eyed Zach. “First, you need to know that there’s quite a lot of water that’s run under the bridge between me and Ivy. Things are strained between us,” he admitted, his gaze shrouded with the kind of hurt a man rarely showed. “You may have noticed.”

He’d noticed all right. That’s why he’d already decided that he’d try to be a buffer for Ivy. The hurt look that had flashed across her hopeful expression yesterday in the barn had nearly broken his heart.

And the sorrow drifting over his boss’s expression just now gave him equal pause. Zach had no idea what had transpired between Mr. Harris and Ivy, but having lost his brother Max to a sordid lifestyle which had led to his death, Zach would do whatever he could to help heal the torn relationship.

He’d be a listening ear. A voice of encouragement.

And he’d pray. In spite of his floundering relationship with God, he’d pray that God would do that which Zach was fairly certain only God could do. He’d seen God work miracles in Ben, Joseph and Aaron’s lives. God could work a miracle here, too. Couldn’t He?

“I know she’s found a place for herself out east just like her mama wanted for her, but if something happens to me, then all of this, every last inch of this ranch, must fall to her.” Mr. Harris reached out and grabbed Zach’s arm in an uncommon show of desperation. “She needs to fall in love with this place again, Zach. I need her to love it just like she did when she was a little girl—before things changed. Do you hear me?”

“I understand.” Zach gulped back a lump of uncertainty. He’d do whatever Mr. Harris wished, but this would require him being in close quarters with Ivy, and he’d already discovered that her very presence incited his old insecurities and fears. Having her back here was one thing, but could he go to this extent without losing the man he’d become and the confidence he’d worked so hard to gain?

“With the way you love this place, you’re just the man to help her with that.” Mr. Harris’s grip on Zach’s arm tightened. “If things take a bad turn for me, then she’s going to have to stay here. I want you to lead her heart home.”

Ivy’s first night back at the ranch had been fraught with every emotion imaginable. She was grieving, still, her mama’s death. Sorrowful for her father’s cool, uninterested greeting. Overjoyed to see Violet.

But the stomach-fluttering thrill she felt at the mere thought of Zachariah Drake had sent her into an outright tailspin. He’d knocked her control off-kilter without doing a thing. Last night, she’d even dreamed of the man. His broad, burden-bearing shoulders. His chiseled, masculine jawline. His crystal-blue, secret-bearing gaze.

She tipped her head back and breathed in deep, wishing she could get the man out of her mind.

Back in New York she’d gone on a few lovely little outings with Neal Smith, and never had she had such an all-encompassing response to the man. Ever. Oh, Neal was handsome in a very pristine way. And he was as agreeable as a man could possibly be. Kind. Respectful. But he’d never once made his way into her dreams. In fact, he’d barely even interrupted her thoughts.

She threw her chestnut-colored paisley wrap around her shoulders and headed down the front steps for a breath of fresh air, if for nothing else than to clear her head of Zach Drake. She could only hope that, perhaps, she’d find her wayward common sense and self-control out here, because it had escaped her last night. Completely.

She’d likely not had it in her possession from the moment she’d stepped foot off the train.

When she caught sight of Zach out by the barn, talking with one of the hands—Hugh Bagley, a former classmate and old friend—she stopped in her tracks. Shielding her eyes from the bright morning sun, she saw Zach jam one hand to his waist and jab his pointing finger toward the barn, his brusque litany of words falling just out of reach. But his stern expression … it was readable from here, a good hundred feet away.

When Hugh caught sight of her, his defeated stance shot upright. “Ivy!” he called as he started jogging her way, leaving Zach glaring after him.

“Hello, Hugh.” Smiling, she waved and hurried over the hard ground to meet him.

“If you aren’t a sight for sore eyes then I don’t know what is.” Catching her up in his long-armed hug, he squeezed tight then grasped her arms and held her away from himself. “It’s good to see you, Ivy. Really good.”

Her frustration regarding Zach’s behavior all but vanished at Hugh’s warm greeting. “How wonderful to see you, too, Hugh.”

“I heard whisperings from one of the hands that you were back. I’ve been looking for you all morning.”

“Surely you had better things to do.” She stepped away from him, her arms aching from his tight hold. He always had been like a grown but playful pup that hadn’t yet learned the word gentle.

“I thought you’d never come back.” A grin stretched the width of his long and narrow face.

“Well, believe it or not, I am here.”

“That, you are,” he confirmed with an appraising look.

Readjusting the scarf around her shoulders, she gently rubbed where his hands had been and planted a smile on her face, even when she felt confused by everything that had happened since she’d been home. She didn’t need Hugh digging into her heart. They’d been friends years ago, but she’d never thought to parcel out the deepest secrets in her heart to him. He couldn’t seem to be serious enough to handle that kind of information.

“Boy, have I ever missed you, Ivy. All of the fun we had.” He raised his eyebrows. “Things just aren’t the same as they were back then.”

“I wouldn’t imagine they are.” Memories of the fun adventures they’d shared flitted through her mind. “So, you’re working here, too?”

“Too?” His heavy brow furrowed beneath his brown cowboy hat.

She angled a quizzical look at him, then slid her gaze over to where Zach stood, jamming a shovel into the earth with enough force she’d have thought he was planning to dig all the way to the other side of the world. “You know … Zach.”

His eyes rolled back for a brief moment. “Oh, yeah … the big boss.”

Ivy fingered the delicate wool fringe edging her scarf, recalling how Hugh had never much liked Zach. “I had no idea he was my father’s foreman. Can you imagine my shock? He’s changed so much.”

“He sure has changed.” Hugh gave a huge sigh. “And he’s foreman here, whether I like it or not.”

“What happened out there just a minute ago?” She passed a quick glance toward Zach. “He looked quite mad.”

“Enough to spit iron stakes.” With a mutinous manner about him, Hugh looped his arms at his chest. “Screamed at me like I was some no-good criminal sniffing around for trouble.”

“He wasn’t screaming at you,” she admonished with a wry grin.

He hung his head. “All right. Maybe not screaming. But if I’m not working my fingers to the bone or wearing my boots thin like he does, then he figures I’m being a regular old slough.”

“Oh, he can’t be that bad.” Certain Hugh must be exhibiting that dramatic flair of his just for show, she gave a delicate laugh.

But when the image of Zach, speaking with Hugh just minutes ago ricocheted through her mind, she had to wonder. Was Zach merely holding to her father’s standards? Her father never had tolerated laziness.

She’d never known Hugh to be lazy.

He’d never been rushed, either.

“He oughta stay focused on what’s been happening right under his nose.” Hugh raised his brows over his small eyes.

“Why? What happened?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He dug a boot heel into the reddish soil. “I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.”

“Come now, Hugh. You know you can’t drop hints like that without delivering on them.” She had to question whether Hugh was right. “Are you being territorial again?”

“Again?” His narrowed his gaze on her.

“Perhaps your memory needs a little refreshing,” she prodded. “Back when we were in grade school, you would target any boy who dared cross you or be better than you at something.” Or any boy who dared speak with her. She never could quite figure out why, either. She’d never shown an inkling of interest in him as anything other than a friend. “Does that ring a bell? I would expect that it’s hard to have a former classmate, namely Zach, as your boss. Am I right?”

“Oh, I’d gladly work for someone if I had confidence in them.”

Uncertainty suddenly pricked deep at his words. She took a hesitant step in Zach’s direction. Hugh had been doing ranch work from the time he was thirteen. He was probably fairly seasoned, for his age, especially now that he worked for her father. So why would he doubt Zach’s capability?

She came to stand in front of him again. “Do you mean to say that you don’t have confidence in Zach?”

“I think he’s green—it shows in the way we’re always coming up short on supplies.” He narrowed an uncharacteristically serious gaze on her. Craned his head around, looking the direction of the corral where Zach was still shoveling with intense ferocity.

“Short? On supplies?”

“Things keep coming up missing. And when I ask if I can look at the books, he gets as mean as a bear with new cubs.”

“Doesn’t he know you’re just trying to help?”

“I don’t think he sees it that way, no.” He ran a long-fingered hand over his sparsely whiskered chin. “Half the time, I don’t agree with his decisions. He’s headstrong. And way too proud, if you ask me.”

She dropped her focus to where Shakespeare had appeared and was doing circle eights at her feet, his big thick tail swishing across her dark rust-colored taffeta skirt. Scooping up her hefty cat, she held him close, recalling how easily Zach had brushed her the wrong way with his headstrong manner.

“Zach’s a lot like your daddy.” Hugh’s overly eager nod only served to annoy Ivy. “Only your daddy has a good handle on things here, being so experienced. But with the cattle theft that happened a week ago not far from here,” he said, slicing a breath through his long teeth, “we need a foreman who knows what he’s doing, leading the way.”

“Cattle theft?” An ominous chill crawled down her spine.

Hugh hooked a thumb through his belt loop. “The theft has the ranchers around here sitting at the edge of their saddles.”

“I can imagine.” She draped Shakespeare over her shoulder like a baby—just the way he’d like it.

“As experienced as your uncle Terrance is,” Hugh said, reaching out and brushing a hand over her arm, “I wish that he was the one leading the charge instead of Zach.”

Ivy patted the cat’s back, provoking a loud purr from the feline as she recalled how her mama’s brother, Terrance, had worked for her father for years. “I don’t think I ever recall a time when he didn’t go about his business without a cheerful whistle. He was raised on this ranch.”

“Honestly, Terrance never gets much of a fair shake around here.” He fingered the brim of his hat. “But … he takes it in stride. He’s devoted to your father, that’s for sure.”

At every turn, her uncle Terrance had talked her father up as though he owned the entire state of Colorado and then some. So, it never quite made sense why he was the only person in the world her father didn’t seem to like.

“Terrance has years and years of experience, and a real head for business. But for some reason—” He yanked his hat off his head and slapped it against his long leg. “Why in the world are we talking about this, anyway? I haven’t seen my Ivy in six years and I’m rambling on and on about the ranch.” When he poked her arm, she had to bite back a wince as she silently calculated just how long it would take before a bruise would appear. “How’s the big city been treating you, dolly?”

The city had been wonderful.

But here. Ever since she’d been back, she’d been scrambling for a foothold. Struggling to maintain a strong front.

Until this moment, she’d felt inclined to keep her distance, since it was clear her father was eager to send her back east. But now she had no choice. If there were problems on the ranch, it was her responsibility to see to them, with her father unwell. She’d have to make sure that Zach was making the best decisions and that he wasn’t putting the ranch in jeopardy just because he was headstrong.

“Grand. I love it there.” Suddenly and strangely wary, she glanced past Hugh to find Zach staring right at her, his face set in a distinct scowl. Beads of perspiration glistened over his muscle-roped arms as he jammed his shovel into the ground again and brought out a chunk of dirt.

“Mama was right,” she went on to say, trying her best to ignore her father’s foreman. “There are so many opportunities to be had out east.”

Zach didn’t look happy, that’s for sure. Was this just one of his ways of throwing his weight around?

After a long yawn, Hugh snapped his jaws, jarring her nerves. “Your mama always did push for you to go, didn’t she?”

At times, her mother had been almost desperate for Ivy to leave the ranch. “Even when I was young and talked of owning a ranch of my own someday, Mama would push me that way.”

Ivy swallowed hard. The guilt and shame that had hung over her mama’s passing had seized any joy to be found in journeying toward her mama’s dreams.

At the sound of the front door slamming shut, Ivy glanced over her shoulder to glimpse Violet hurrying down the steps, two small braided rugs draped over her arms. And a clear look of intent on her round face.

“Good morning, Violet,” Ivy greeted as the petite woman scurried toward them, clad in an attractive gray-blue calico dress that matched her eyes perfectly.

“Hello, Ivy, dear.” She swiped at her brow then laid a veiled scowl on Hugh. “Hugh.”

Ivy’s heart warmed at the sight of the lively woman. Violet, nearly her father’s age, had been with the family for years. “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yes, just fine.” The woman pulled up beside Ivy and patted the colorful braided rugs. “Just thought I’d get these out on the line to breathe for a while. Since it’s such a lovely day.”

Ivy slipped her focus to the rugs, sure she’d seen them hanging on the line yesterday when she’d arrived. “But they were hanging out yesterday, and the clothesline is in the back of the—”