Homecoming Ranch (34 page)

“I say only what is true,” Marisol said with a shrug. She covered a bowl of beans and said low, “Now, she wants to be again with Luke.”

Patti stopped washing and turned around. “What?”

Marisol nodded furiously. “She comes here, two, three times a week. Leo, he has heard this from Luke, that she wants to be together again. They sit on the porch and they talk long time.
Long
time.”

“Well, that’s their business, Marisol,” Patti said primly.

“Yes, of course it is their business,” Marisol said with shrug. “But I do not like to see her with him again, do you?”

“It’s none of our business,” Patti said firmly. “I want whatever makes Luke happy. That’s all.” She turned back to her washing.

Marisol frowned at Patti’s back. “Very well, pretend you do not hear me,” she said with a flick of her wrist. “But if they come together again, she will hurt him again. I know this woman. I know how she is.” Her gaze shifted to Madeline, and then to the plate Madeline held.

Only then did Madeline realize that she was not moving, that her towel was stuck to the plate, her body going cold. She slowly resumed drying, her thoughts racing now. She’d known when this affair with Luke began that it could never be more than it was, in spite of any fantasies she might have harbored that it could be. And now it felt as if her instincts to protect her heart, to cocoon it, had been right. Luke liked her, she knew that he did. But he didn’t love her, not like she was beginning to love him, she was fairly certain—how could he love her and Julie at the same time?

She took her time finishing up, stacking the dishes neatly on the bar, as there was no place in the two cabinets to put them. By then, everyone was eating pie and playing cards.

Madeline wrapped her sweater tightly around her and walked outside. Mr. Kendrick apparently had bowed out of the game and was sitting on the steps of the little porch.

“May I join you?” Madeline asked.

“Come on,” he said, and patted the wood step next to him.

She sat down on the step and fixed her gaze on a Chinese lantern.

“You don’t want to play?” Mr. Kendrick asked.

“No.” She smiled sheepishly. “I’m horrible at games, and there is nothing I hate more than losing money.”

He laughed. “Me, too.”

It was ironic for him to say, given how much he’d lost in selling Homecoming Ranch. He seemed a good man, and Madeline couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. How did one man bear so much loss? She looked at his creased face and imagined him striking his deal with her father, the devil. “May I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he said.

“What was he like? Grant Tyler, I mean.”

Mr. Kendrick studied her for a moment, his gray eyes—Luke’s eyes—regarding her with the same casual interest. “Well, I can say that he wasn’t any good with women, but I guess you knew that.”

Madeline smiled. “That is the one thing about him I knew.”

“He thought he was some hotshot, some business brain, but I think he made more messes than anyone I ever knew. When Grant was on top, there wasn’t no one higher. But when he fell, he landed with a bang.”

Madeline glanced down, wishing she would hear something about Grant that she could honestly admire. Just one small thing that would make her feel as if she hadn’t descended from a long line of losers.

“He wasn’t all bad,” Mr. Kendrick said, as if she’d voiced her thoughts out loud. “I mean, he really was trying to help me out. He thought he was a wheeler-dealer and was probably just shy of the law, but his intentions were good. He knew I needed the money for Leo.”

“For Leo?”

“Yep. Insurance only covers so much, and that was back when I could get insurance for my son.”

Madeline bit her lower lip. He’d sold the ranch for so much less than it was worth so that he could take care of Leo.

“I take it he wasn’t much of a dad,” Mr. Kendrick said.

“You’d have to ask Libby,” Madeline said with a shrug. “I never knew him.”

Mr. Kendrick nodded. “I won’t make excuses for him,” he said. “But I’ll let you in on a secret—Grant himself told me he was never the same after his son died.”

Madeline started. “What? What son?”

“Hadn’t heard about that? He had son with his first wife. To hear Grant tell it, he doted on that kid. They had a little house out in Florida somewhere. He’d just gotten out of the military, was doing something with aviation equipment. Said he was really happy then. But that kid, somehow he got out from under their watch and they found him in the pool. He was about two when he drowned.”

Madeline’s stomach dropped. She’d had a brother? A baby who had drowned? She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. “I didn’t… I never…”

“Well I guess he kept that ache to himself then,” Mr. Kendrick said. “I don’t think he would have told me, but when this last wife left him, he came over one night, just as drunk as he could be, and he poured it all out.”

“Oh my God,” Madeline murmured.

“Now I never approved of the way Grant handled his kids, I can tell you that much. But after he told me, part of me always wanted to cut him a break. I just know how crazy I’d be if I lost one of my two.”

They sat in silence for a long moment. Madeline swallowed down a lump in her throat. She had never thought of her father as anything other than slightly less than human. She could not imagine the pain of his loss. And here she was sitting next to a man who had sacrificed so much for his child. A child he would lose.

She felt guilty for something she hadn’t done, guilt by association. “Mr. Kendrick, about the ranch—”

“Now Madeline, you do what you need to do about that,” he said, cutting her off. “We’ll be fine. We’ve made it this far and we’ll keep making it, no matter what. One thing I’ve got is two strong sons. We can weather just about anything.” He smiled, then surprised her by squeezing her knee. “You take care of
you
. Do what you need for you.”

She appreciated his sentiment, but the little green house was scarcely big enough for Leo’s wheelchair. How could she worry about only herself?

Libby appeared before them, her purse on her shoulder. “There you are. Are you ready?” she asked brightly.

Luke walked up behind Libby. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“We have so much to do tomorrow,” Libby said. “The Johnsons will be here on Thursday.”

Madeline stood up and looked at Luke. He said, “Are you leaving?” She had the feeling he was asking her something else entirely, something much deeper, and Madeline didn’t have an answer for him. She could feel a sea change in her, as if everything she had ever known,
everything she had ever been, was turning over, bottom-up. It felt big, overwhelming. This time, she couldn’t reason everything out, couldn’t chart it and follow a predetermined path. She felt strangely paralyzed by the life she’d worked so hard to achieve.

She looked at Luke. He deserved some explanation from her. He deserved the best the world had to offer, not some woman from Orlando with a trunk full of emotional baggage. She wanted to tell him how she felt about him and what she meant to do, but honestly, standing there, she didn’t really know what she meant to do. “I have to go,” she said simply, and smiled sadly.

She could see in Luke’s pained expression that he understood her.

Luke walked Libby and Madeline out to their car after they’d said their good-nights. He stepped back inside the fence and watched until the red taillights of Libby’s car disappeared around the corner. When he turned back, he was surprised to see Jackson with one hip perched on the railing of the porch, watching him.

“So what’s up, Luke?” Jackson asked shrewdly. “You look a little like a sick puppy.”

“Funny,” Luke said.

“Hey, I got a call from your attorney, Dan Broadstreet. He had a few questions for me.”

“Did he?”

“I guess he was looking for something to help you out. But he told me it didn’t look good, that case law won’t back up the deal your dad made, and that it would be a big waste of money to try it.” He shrugged sympathetically. “But I guess you knew that.”

“I knew it,” Luke said. “My goal is to fight it long enough that I have time to get enough money together to buy the ranch back. I’m driving over to Denver tomorrow to go over things with Dan.”

“Seriously?” Jackson said, surprised. “You guys don’t have the money for that.”

“I have the money,” Luke said.

Jackson sighed. “Everyone appreciates your determination, Luke. But your dad doesn’t want to go back to the ranch. Do you know that? I don’t know if it’s because his wife is gone, or it’s too hard to handle Leo out there, but he’s been pretty straight with me—he doesn’t have any interest.”

“Maybe so. But Leo and I do.”

Jackson cocked his head to one side. “Leo, too?” he asked, sounding skeptical.

“Yes,” Luke said. “Leo, too.” He didn’t know if that was true or not, and now he would make it a point to speak to Leo about it. “But definitely me, Jackson. Everyone seems to forget that Homecoming Ranch is my legacy, too.”

Jackson nodded. “I thought you were sticking to Denver.”

“I am,” Luke said. “For now. That’s where the work is. But one day, I’m going to have kids. And I want the ranch to be there for them, just like it was for Leo and me. Like it was for my dad. I’m not willing to say, hey, you know, my dad made a mistake, and move on. There is too much family history, too much of my life wrapped up there.”

“I hear you, man. But it’s happening all across Colorado. Ranches are too expensive to run and maintain. We can agree to disagree about Grant’s methods, but he was onto something. You’ve got to have twice as many cattle up there to pay for that operation. Your dad was sinking faster than a stone in a pond.”

Luke folded his arms across his chest and stared back at Jackson.

Jackson groaned. “Okay,” he said, throwing up his hands. “Okay. I’ll help you however I can. Just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me you won’t tell me how much money you lose in this deal. My tiny money-grubbing heart can’t take it.”

“This is going to be
great,
” Libby said as she put the finishing touches on her own special project, a welcome sign for the Johnsons. She’d labored over it for several days, painting it onto some weathered boards that had come from an old shed the men had removed to make way for the showers.

“Looks great,” Madeline said. She was reviewing the budget she’d made Jackson give her. If there was any money to be saved, she would find it.

Libby stood back and admired her handiwork. “If Luke would ever show up again, we could get this hung.” She glanced sidelong at Madeline. “Do you know where he is?”

Madeline had to swallow down the bitter lump of disappointment. “No,” she said as lightly as she could. “Haven’t heard from him.” She was puzzled by it, hurt by it. He hadn’t come out to the ranch, and the one afternoon she drove into town for some things, she didn’t see his Bronco on Elm Street, or anywhere else. There was a terrible ache in her heart where he had been these last weeks, and she wanted him to fill it back up.

Love.
Love was doing this to her. Not anxiety. Now she understood what an incredible, physical yearning love was, and it was turning her skin inside out.

“The first wave of Johnsons is coming this afternoon!” Libby reminded her. “Did you see the little wagon I put coffee and tea on?”

“No.”

“Come and see!” she said, beckoning Madeline up away from the kitchen bar. They walked out the front door, down the porch steps Luke had repaired. There, by the fence next to Madeline’s bulletin board, was a miniature red covered wagon. Big urns of coffee and tea were placed on it, next to creamers, sugars, and Styrofoam cups.

“It’s great,” Madeline said. “Where’d you get it?”

“Dani. Oh, there’s Ernest!” Libby said and flashed a smile at Madeline. “I bet I can talk him into hanging the sign.” She scampered off, her curly hair bouncing behind her.

Their work was done; there was nothing left but the waiting for hordes to arrive. It was a glorious day, a great day for a family reunion. Madeline thought of the Kendricks, and how many reunions they must have had here. Her heart ached—they should still
be
here.

She decided to walk—it occurred to her that she might not have many more opportunities to do so.

It was funny how she’d taken to walking in the mornings, going a little farther each day. This morning, like most mornings, the four dogs were quickly behind her, settled into her new routine, their snouts to the trail, their tails high. Although she couldn’t keep their names straight, she had warmed to them, too. They were good companions on chilly spring nights.

Madeline listened to the chatter of birds as she walked. She realized, about halfway up, that she didn’t feel so out of breath as she had when she’d first come to Colorado. It was remarkable, that over the course of a little more than two weeks, she had been transformed. She felt the mountains in her now, felt the pull of them in the mornings, the desire to climb up, to see what nature had to offer. When she’d first arrived, Dani had suggested she would feel that way, and Madeline thought she was crazy. Turns out,
she
was the crazy one. Who could not feel the allure of this patch of paradise?