Montana Hearts (4 page)

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.

T
he sound of the emergency gong rang out over the prairie.

Kurt froze in the saddle. Intended to warn of a grass fire, no one had used that gong in years. Not since his mother had knocked over a kerosene lamp and…

Digging in his heels, he spurred Pepper toward the ranch house. Had Sarah tried to barbecue something on the back porch again? Maybe Beth had been messing around with candles in her room and caught the curtains on fire.

Or maybe a tourist had tossed a cigarette butt out a car window into the drought-dry grass and started what could end in an inferno.

Grimly, he urged his horse to a gallop.

Fire. Always a dangerous threat but more so when you lived far from town with only a few nearby ranchers to help put out the flames.

As his horse raced across the rolling landscape, Kurt searched the horizon for any sign of smoke. Nothing. Not a single puff of smoke in sight.

Nerves bunched his shoulders. He gripped the reins
so hard they nearly cut through his riding gloves into his palms. The horse's ears were turned to listen for his commands, and he knew the animal's eyes were wide with a fright that reflected his own fears.

If there was no smoke and no fire, what other emergency could there be? Any number of dangers existed on a ranch, from mountain lions and wolf attacks to someone falling out of the hay loft.

The ranch house came into sight. No smoke. No fire.

Two pickup trucks were roaring down the road toward the Rocking R. They'd heard the gong, too. And responded.

The volunteer fire truck from town wouldn't be far behind them.

In ranch country, neighbors helped neighbors.

Kurt unlatched the final gate separating the grazing land from the ranch house and barns, and sped the remaining yards to the back of the house. He reined the lathered horse to a halt in front of Beth and Sarah.

“What is it? What's wrong?” He was as winded as his horse, his lungs pumping hard.

Beth gave her ponytail an insolent flick with her hand. “Our new housekeeper,” she said in a snooty voice, “wouldn't let me go into town unless you said so.”

Gaping at his daughter, Kurt shook his head. “You're telling me you rang the emergency gong for that?”

“I did it,” Sarah said. “Beth told me there was no other way to reach you. I was under the impression you had grounded her.”

Anger built in Kurt's chest. He forced himself to stay
in control as the two pickup trucks roared up to the barn and four hands from neighboring ranches piled out of the vehicles.

“Both of you, stay right where you are,” he said.

“Especially you, Beth.”

He reined his horse toward the arriving men. Still agitated, the gelding danced around, and Kurt had to reassert control over the animal.

“Sorry, fellows. A false alarm. But thanks for coming.”

Larry Hicks from the Skyline Ranch thumbed his hat farther back on his head. “You sure everything is okay?”

No, everything was not okay. “A little misunderstanding. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“No problem. Boys were lookin' for a little excitement anyway. They got the summer doldrums.” Larry grinned at his buddies.

“Could you call the dispatcher in town, ask 'em to call off the volunteer fire truck?” Kurt asked.

“Will do.” Larry resettled his hat and all the men climbed back into their trucks.

Kurt dismounted and walked his horse to the back of the house where Beth and Sarah were waiting for him.

Before Kurt had a chance to say a single word, Beth laid into him.

“Daddy, this is so wrong. I knew you didn't really mean I was grounded. That was only for Nana's benefit so she'd get off my back. And Beth wouldn't believe me, so I—”

“You're not only grounded, Beth, you're going to do
chores all day. Starting with cooling off Pepper.” He patted the horse's sweaty neck. “And giving him a good rubdown. Cleaning out the stalls comes next.”

“Dad…dy!” she wailed. “You can't mean—”

“I do. Every word.” He handed her Pepper's reins.

“Now get busy, young lady. When the stalls are clean, come tell me, and I'll think of something else for you to do. We've let a lot of things go around the place this past year.” Including him letting his daughter slide by when he should have been paying more attention to Beth and less to his own feelings of guilt and grief. That was going to change.

The daggers Beth glared at him had sharp points, and they hurt at some deep level he hadn't felt in a long time.

She yanked on the reins and walked Pepper to the barn, her ponytail swinging like the swishing tail of a raging bull.

“I love you, angel,” he said under his breath, and exhaled a weary sigh.

“I'm sorry,” Sarah said. “I didn't know that the gong would bring the entire county out here to see what was wrong.”

“Yep. That's what it was meant to do.” He plucked his cell phone from the holster on his belt. “Of course, nowadays using one of these is a lot more efficient.”

Her eyes widened and pink colored her cheeks. “I asked about you having a cell. She said where you were was a dead zone.”

Taking off his hat, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and sat down on the top porch step. Rudy joined
him, sitting on his haunches, his ears alert, his eyes curious.

“There're a couple of dead zones,” Kurt said. “But three years ago the cell company put up three towers, one on my property and the other two nearby. My cell works most everywhere on the ranch. I should've thought to give you the number.”

“That's a good idea.” She eased herself down to a step one below his. “I don't think Beth meant any harm. I think she's troubled.”

Gazing off into the distance, he idly petted the dog. “Yeah, I get that. And I haven't been much of a father lately.”

“It's never too late. I suspect that's why she's acting out. She wants you to pay attention to her even if it means she's getting yelled at.”

“I figured that out. But what do I do? I'm trying to run this place without a hired hand. The price of beef keeps dipping and the bills keep getting bigger. I don't have time for fun and games.”

Sarah reached down and plucked a weed from the ground by its roots. “I've never had children, so I'm certainly not an expert, but I'd say if you don't spend time with her now you'll regret it later.”

He grunted a noncommital sound.

Rudy deserted Kurt to sit beside Sarah. She patted his head and scratched behind his ears. “Nice dog.”

“Rudy used to help me round up the cattle. He herded the kids, too, when they were little and tried to wander off.” He smiled at the memory. “Now he's too old and he's got arthritis.”

“Poor guy.” Continuing to pet the dog, she said, “I
was never allowed to have a dog. My parents were afraid I would catch something from an animal.”

Kurt detected a note of both regret and nostalgia in her voice.

“Well, I've got laundry to do and some dusting. I'd better get busy.”

She stood and brushed the dirt from the back of her slacks. Not jeans, like the local women wore. But fancy, city-girl slacks. Kurt would guess they weren't bought out of a catalog either, which is what Zoe had had to do except on their rare trips to Great Falls or Helena where she could shop.

No wonder she'd hated living out here.

Brooding, Kurt sat on the porch step for a long time. Finally, when no great revelations came to him, he strolled into the barn. Beth was in the middle of mucking out one of the stalls.

“What do you want now?” she asked. “I'm gettin' it done, just like you said.”

He walked past her and picked up a second shovel. “I was thinking if we worked together we'd get this dirty job done a lot faster. And maybe we could talk.”

 

Sarah moved a load of wash into the dryer, shut the lid and pushed the start button.

Realizing she shouldn't put off calling Tricia Malone any longer, she stepped into her bedroom and closed the door for privacy. The young woman was taking care of her accounting service while Sarah was away. Although she trusted Tricia's accounting skills implicitly, she wanted to make sure her clients continued to be happy with the service they received.

She picked up her cell phone. For a moment she marveled how cleverly a twelve-year-old girl had conned her into believing there was no cell service out on the range. Beth certainly had a chip on her shoulder. But what preteen wouldn't be upset, the loss of her mother coinciding with the onset of her own puberty.
Poor kid!

Punching in the number for Puget Sound Business Services, she waited for Tricia to pick up.

“Oh, hi, Sarah. I got your email. How's our world traveler?”

“Traveling pretty slow at the moment.” At a dead stop, as a matter of fact. “How are you doing?”

“I'm good and so is your business. I haven't insulted a single client yet and nobody has walked away muttering about your help being incompetent.”

Sarah chuckled. Tricia had recently taken her exam to be a CPA and probably knew more about accounting practices than Sarah did. While Tricia was waiting for her test results, she'd agreed to handle Sarah's business.

“I called to let you know I'll be staying in Montana for a few weeks.”

“That's what your email said. What's the attraction? I hadn't envisioned you as a cowgirl.”

“Nor had I. I'm helping out some friends.” The family who had generously provided the heart to replace Sarah's failing organ.

“You're still coming back by September first?”

“Oh, yes. Maybe even sooner.” If Beth convinced her father Sarah didn't belong on his ranch for any reason, she'd be packing her bags early. “But if there's a prob
lem, all you have to do is call. I can drop everything and be back in Seattle in a couple of days.”

“Don't even think about coming home early. After all you've been through for the past year or so, you deserve more than just a change of scene. Maybe you can find a Montana cowboy who'll put a little sparkle in your eye.”

“Tricia!” she scolded, heat flooding her cheeks as the image of Kurt Ryder instantly popped into her mind. “I'll settle for lots of sunshine for a change. That alone will do wonders for my spirits.”

 

By mid-afternoon, her household chores under control, Sarah located gardening tools and a wheelbarrow in a shed behind the barn. She piled the tools in the wheelbarrow and pushed it to the front yard. The flower bed around the gazebo had gone to seed. Ignored and abandoned.

Sarah envisioned Zoe tending a wealth of bright flowers circling the white structure in an explosion of color all year long.

Except during winter when snow covered the ground, she reminded herself. That was rarely a problem in Seattle.

Although she owned only a small cottage on a postage-stamp-size lot, she kept two window boxes filled with colorful flowers to drive away the perpetual gloom of the city.

She'd found an old horse blanket in the shed and knelt on that to keep the knees of her slacks clean. She could hardly wait for the jeans she'd ordered to arrive.

Using a trowel and a two-pronged weed puller, she
set to work. Weeds released their roots from the hard-packed ground only reluctantly, allowing the scent of untended soil and dry earth to escape.

The sun, still high in the summer sky, beat down, and sweat crept down the back of Sarah's neck.

“Dad said I'm supposed to help you.”

A spurt of hope zipped through Sarah as she looked up, shading her eyes in order to see Beth. Maybe she could find a way to help the child. “I could sure use a hand. Thanks.”

Without comment, Beth grabbed a pointed trowel, dropped to her knees and starting attacking a weed with a vengeance. A reluctant volunteer.

Sarah winced as the girl whacked off the weed without getting any of the roots, then assaulted another victim.

Rudy came over to investigate the gardening project. He sniffed halfheartedly around the pulled weeds, then lay down near Beth.

After a few minutes of silence—and a few more decapitated weeds—Sarah asked, “Did you used to help your mother in the garden?”

“Some.”

“Good. I'm sure she appreciated your help.” Sarah continued her own de-weeding efforts, including getting up as many roots as she could. Leading by example. “I was thinking, after we get the flower bed pretty well cleaned out, I'd like to go to a nursery and pick out some flowers to plant.”

“Closest nursery's in Shelby.”

“That's not too far. Maybe you'd like to come with
me. You can show me which flowers your mother liked best.”

“I'm grounded.” Beth jammed her trowel into the ground with the force of an exclamation mark.

“It'll take a couple of days to get this flower bed in any kind of condition for new plants. By then, maybe I can talk your father into letting you come with me.”

Turning her head, Beth eyed Sarah for a moment, then shrugged. “Whatever.”

Sarah decided to take Beth's response as one baby step forward.
Thank You, Lord.

 

When it was getting close to time to start dinner, Sarah called the weed pulling to a halt. Her back, hands and knees ached from the unfamiliar exercise and she was hot, sweaty and very dirty. She needed a hot shower before she set foot in the kitchen.

Beth readily agreed to put away the tools and dump the weeds in a compost pile out back.

Sarah had barely gotten to her room and started to undress when she heard the slap of the screen door on the back porch and a woman's voice.

“Hello! Anyone home?”

Mentally groaning, Sarah rebuttoned her blouse and went to find out who had arrived.

She stepped into the hallway. “Can I help you?”

An older woman wearing a cotton housedress and carrying a baking pan covered with foil halted abruptly. She gaped at Sarah. “Who are you?”