| |
CHEY TOOK MARI TO BIG Timber the following Saturday afternoon to check out the three used vehicles she’d circled in the local newspaper’s classified section. The first two cars needed more repairs than she could afford. At its owner’s suggestion, she took the third car—a fifteen-year-old Ford Escape—for a test drive, Chey in the passenger seat.
“Let’s head out 298,” he suggested while directing her south. “Not the prettiest day, but the scenery along Boulder River never disappoints.”
“Bad idea,” Mari said after ten minutes driving through a broad valley on the cusp of green, studded with ranches, grazing cattle and horses, the Boulder River rumbling and rushing with snow melt. “I’m too distracted by these gorgeous views to pay attention to how the car’s running.”
“Smooth ride so far. Bet this car never traveled over fifty miles from home. One owner. Kept in good shape. Fair price. I’d buy it.”
“Do you have a side job as a car salesman?”
He laughed. Then he pointed at the mountain range in the near distance, its craggy peaks still capped with snow. “Clouds are lifting. Those are the Absaroka Mountains.”
She’d heard the name before, but Chey spoke it with an unusual accent on the second syllable. “Are you speaking Cheyenne?”
“Crow. Absaroka comes from the name for the Crow in their language—Apsalooka. It means Children of the Large-Beaked Bird. Like many things, it got misinterpreted by white settlers. They thought it meant ‘crow.’”
“Is there an Indian name for the Crazy Mountains?”
“Yes. The Crow call the Crazies Awaxaawippiia. They are the tribe’s most sacred mountains, a place for many vision quests.”
A buzz of electricity raced through Mari’s veins. “Can Blackfeet women go on vision quests?”
“Anyone who seeks guidance can.” He spoke a few words in his native tongue, then translated. “Purpose, humility, selflessness, God, grace. These are some spiritual things our people seek on their quests. You women are more in tune with your spiritual side, the earth and its cycles. Men, not so much. So, in our culture, it’s the boys who go on a vision quest as a rite of passage, but I know of girls and women who have done them.”
His words flowed over her, an answer to many questions she’d wanted to ask Jonathan. “Do you remember how blue the sky was on Christmas day? The Crazy Mountains stood out so clear and close, I imagined I could touch them. Something about them pulled at my gut, like I’m supposed to go to them to find something. Would that be a vision quest?” She took her gaze from the road for a second to read Chey’s reaction.
He smiled. “Might be. Only one way to find out. Have you ever hiked in the mountains?”
“Until four months ago, I’d never seen real mountains.”
“Well, I’ll take you hiking in the Crazies this summer. Horseback riding too.”
“I’ve never ridden a horse.”
“I’ll teach you.”
A pair of sooty grey eyes intruded upon her thoughts along with a crooning voice calming a distressed horse. It made sense the mention of horses would stir vivid memories of Travis Hollister. In the four days since she’d stomped out of his cabin, she couldn’t shake him from her head, hard as she tried. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “We should turn around now.”
On the way back to Big Timber, she steered the conversation to the car, its pros and cons. It was a comfortable ride; she enjoyed sitting higher off the ground; it had less than one hundred thousand miles on the odometer; it was a four wheel drive, her favorite color was green (Chey laughed at that), and—thanks to the tips she’d raked in at the café over the last two weeks—she had enough money to buy the car and make the first insurance payment.
The car’s owner, a widower in his early seventies named Everett Thompson, invited them into his modest home for coffee. The car had belonged to his wife, and it had sat in the garage in the year since she passed away. “Have a couple other buyers interested, but you’re the only girl. I bet Sarah would want you to have it.” He offered them a plate of store-bought cookies. “I’ll knock two hundred off the price if you decide today.”
“You don’t—”
“Sounds good to me,” Chey said. He nudged Mari’s shoulder. “Take it.”
“All right.” She smiled at the older man. “But you get a free breakfast at Gigi’s café. And I’ll throw in a piece of pie.” She was sure Sage wouldn’t mind the offer; Mari would subtract the cost from her pay.
Everett beamed. “Used to drive up to Hollister once a month with Sarah. Guess it’s time I got back in the habit. Gigi still make that huckleberry pie?”
Between polite nibbles of the slightly stale cookies, Mari told him about the recent changes in Hollister.
“That so? Gigi’s some gal, taking off on her own to travel.” His eyes reminisced. “Had a crush on her back in high school. And then Sarah moved to town.”
After concluding the sale and extracting a promise from Everett he’d come to the café the following week, Mari drove behind Chey’s truck to a local restaurant for burgers and fries. The dinner conversation centered on her plans now that she had the freedom of her own car. “I filled out the application Mrs. Tanner gave me. I can drive up on Tuesday to deliver it in person and see the ranch. Is the road as bad as I’ve heard?”
“Muddy and narrow in places. Take it slow.” Chey didn’t hide his pleasure at the possibility of them working together that summer. “In the evenings, once we’re done working, there’s still plenty of daylight to go riding and hiking, swimming. Fishing too, if you’re interested.”
“Sounds like fun.” Again, those grey eyes moved into her vision. Everything Chey told her painted an enticing picture of what promised to be an adventure-filled summer, so why did she still yearn to cook and clean for Travis? Annoyed, she encouraged Chey to talk more about the ranch and the people who worked there.
Later, they spent some time in the restaurant parking lot figuring out her car’s features, which lever operated the windshield wipers, which knob turned on the headlights, and so forth. Chey, concerned about the darkening skies and the rain that might begin pouring on their way back to Hollister, had her repeat every process. Once she had the essentials covered, he wished her goodnight. “Stay close behind me,” he advised. “If there’re any issues, flash your lights, and I’ll pull over.”
His concern touched her. Not for the first time, she wished she felt something for him besides friendship. When he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth, it didn’t make her pulse race. But she didn’t flinch; a positive sign her demons were going away. “Goodnight, Chey,” she said, keeping her tone casual. “Thanks again for your help.”
He dug his hands into his front pockets. “How about dinner next Saturday?”
“That’s the same day as Pam’s baby shower. I might be busy helping her mother clean afterwards...”
“Okay. I’ll be in town either way. Call me if you can make it.”
***
THE NEXT MORNING, MARI accompanied Jonathan and Pam to Easter service at Hollister Lutheran, the pink floral dress she’d borrowed from Pam’s closet giving her an extra boost of courage.
Most Sundays, her cousin and his wife attended the nine o’clock service but left by a quarter to ten at the latest to open the café. Each week, they invited Mari to join them, but, until today, she refused. Although she believed in God, none of the families she’d lived with had been consistent churchgoers, and her own insecurities made it difficult attending alone. As she stole glances at the surrounding pews during the service, she promised herself she’d go to church more often. She encountered most of these same people every week at the café; there was nothing to fear.
Spence Hollister sat in the front pew; Sage sat on his right, his daughter Whitney on his left next to Sage’s brother Danny. Jarrett and Addy Tanner occupied the adjacent pew.
Despite Pastor Arnesen’s humble yet fervent sermon, Mari’s mind wandered to Travis. What was he doing right now? What had he done for meals since Tuesday? Was he resting his leg properly? She imagined the cabin floor caked with mud, dishes piled in the sink, a hamper stuffed with dirty laundry, an unmade bed...
It made no sense that he’d spoken about her with his brother, or Spence’s implication Travis had praised her housekeeping skills. If she’d done such a great job, why hadn’t Travis jumped at her offer? Well, he’d made his choice. Whatever his reasons for not hiring her didn’t matter now. She’d get that job at the Tanner’s ranch and, sooner than later, Travis Hollister’s face and voice would stop darting into her thoughts.
Everyone remained outside the church to visit. The wind had blown the rain westward, and blue sky peeked from between scattered, puffy white clouds, teasing the promise of warmer days. Children played, men huddled, women showed off their new spring dresses. “Shawna’s stepped up everyone’s game,” Pam said in an aside to Mari. “I’ve never seen so many hats.”
Shawna outshone them all. Today, she wore a silk two-piece in soft lemon, and a chic, whipping-cream-white hat with a lemon ribbon.
“I have a sudden craving for lemon meringue pie,” Jonathan said, his mouth twitching.
A craving fulfilled later that day after Easter dinner at the Gunderson’s house, a two-story Victorian nestled on a ten-acre farm on the outskirts of town. They took their dessert and coffee into the living room and played Scrabble. Pam reclined on the sofa behind Jonathan’s chair, one hand cradling her belly, the other perched on his shoulder while she whispered hints in his ear. “Enjoy this while you can,” she told him after he won the first game. “Soon as Button’s born, our time will no longer be our own.” She didn’t seem concerned about the prospect.
“Less than three weeks to go,” her mother said, all aglow.
“Could be sooner,” Jonathan said.
Angela wagged a finger at her daughter. “Not until after the shower. What would I do with the decorations and party favors?”
Which led to discussing the upcoming baby shower. Angela worried about the weather; if it turned warm enough, the guests could spread onto the enclosed front porch. She’d tried to keep the guest list short—most of them relatives and Pam’s closest friends—but it still added to a gathering of two dozen women.
Mari had never attended a baby shower; she wondered if her mother had one, if Mari’s impending birth merited such joyful anticipation. Somehow, she doubted it. But she didn’t want to think about that right now.
***
ON MONDAY MORNING, Jonathan went to Big Timber with Mari and helped with titling and registering her car. She also got a Montana driver’s license. On the return trip, she confessed her plan to apply for a housekeeping position at JT Cattle & Guest Ranch, and apologized for not sharing the news sooner; she hadn’t decided until a few days ago. She worried her lower lip, her hands clenching the steering wheel while she waited for his response.
It came in his usual mellow way. “It’ll be good for you.”
“You don’t mind me moving out of the house?”
“Didn’t expect you to stay forever. I only hoped you’d stay in Montana, close to our people.”
Her hands relaxed. “I feel bad not sticking around to help with the baby.”
“We’ve got plenty of help. My mother-in-law can’t wait to play grandma, nanny and housekeeper.”
“I won’t move out until the first part of June, if I get the job.”
“Don’t see any reason they wouldn’t hire you.”
“I don’t think I left a good impression with Jarrett Tanner when I met him.”
Her cousin snorted. “Don’t worry about him. He’s still the boss on paper, but it’s Mack running the show. And I think Tressa oversees the housekeeping staff. The Tanners are honest, hardworking people.”
Tressa. Mari had heard that name before. “Is Tressa a member of the family?”
“Jarrett and Addy’s youngest. Mack’s the oldest, then there was Laura. Then Kane. And Tressa last.”
“The same Laura I overheard Pam and Sage talking about? Spence’s first wife killed in that tractor accident?”
“Yes. That happened ten years ago last December. Before I came to Hollister. Tressa’s twenty-six now. She went back east and got a fancy college degree in hospitality. She knows her stuff. You’ll like her.”
Mari wondered at the fresh doubts rising within her. She’d pictured herself working for Addy Tanner, who seemed to have a sweet nature. Tressa loomed as an unknown entity. Mari recalled the admiration in Travis’s eyes when he’d spoken of her.
“We’ll see,” she said. “Nothing’s set in stone yet.”
***
AFTER A QUICK LUNCH, Mari walked to the Reading Room, her backpack slung over one shoulder. When she entered the building, she had her head down, her mind occupied with figures and sums. One more month at the café should earn her enough to buy some new clothes. Well, not new, really, but even thrift shop attire would be a step up from her old jeans and sneakers practically worn to threads...
Her musings ended on a gasp as she nearly tripped over the pair of crutches sticking out from behind a bookcase.
“’Bout time you showed,” Travis said. “I’ve been here two hours.”