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THE FIRST WEEK OF MAY flew by in a whirlwind of activity. Between the café and Travis’s ranch, Mari worked seven days a week, but she didn’t mind. Each job brought different challenges that both motivated her and filled her with a sense of accomplishment.
While Jonathan adjusted to being a dad, she split her time at the café managing the griddle and waiting tables. He and Pam weren’t getting much sleep—neither was Mari—but that didn’t matter. At the end of each day, pure delight filled her when she held Maddy Rose, cuddled the tiny plump body, and rubbed her nose against the baby’s downy cheeks.
“You have a way with her,” Pam said one evening after a mighty yawn. “She stops fussing the second you touch her.” She yawned again. “Could you hold her another eight hours?”
Jonathan rubbed his wife’s back, a grin creasing his tired face. Mari had found the couple collapsed on the couch when she came through the front door ten minutes earlier. The sound of clattering pots emerged from the kitchen where Pam’s mother was cooking dinner. “What about when it’s time to nurse?” he said.
“Oh, just latch her onto me.”
Mari laughed at the picture put in her head. “I’ll hold her as long as possible. I don’t mind.”
“You’ll be a good mom,” her cousin said.
“I hope so.”
“I know so. How was work at the ranch today?”
“Had another horse lesson. I now know how to halter and bridle Mischief and lunge her.” Fresh enthusiasm entered her voice as she recounted the experience. “Travis’s horses are so amazing. Kheiron follows him as if there’s an invisible thread between them. If Travis walks left, Kheiron does too. When Travis stops walking, the horse stops. It’s like watching a ballet.”
“Yeah, it’s incredible to see,” Pam said. “Travis learned from the best horsemen in the field, and he’s still learning. But he always had a natural intuition and sensitivity with horses. It’s a treat watching him in the Fourth of July parade every year.”
Mari tugged her gaze from Maddy’s face. “In Big Timber?”
“Right here in Hollister. Our town might be tiny, but people come from miles around for our Fourth of July parade. We put on a good show.”
“What does Travis do?”
“Puts on his snazziest cowboy gear and rides his horse—all decked out in red, white and blue. A bunch of the local rancher cowboys and girls ride their horses in the parade. They’ll pose for photos after. The tourists gobble it up.” Pam sat up. “Oh, that reminds me. Gigi always baked a ton of mini apple pies to sell to spectators. I’ll phone Sage tomorrow to see if she’s interested in doing that.”
“It’ll go in one ear and out the other,” Jonathan said. “Better wait until after her wedding.”
***
MARI’S FORAY FOR NEW clothes at the thrift store in Big Timber on Saturday afternoon proved a success. She left the store with three pairs of jeans, several cotton western blouses, some tee shirts, a pair of worn but still durable cowboy boots, and a straw cowboy hat.
When the men entered the cabin at lunchtime on the following Monday, Squeak took one look at the hat perched on her head and chortled. “That’s no cowboy hat. That’s a farmer’s hat!”
Mari pulled a frown. “So? It keeps the sun off my head.”
“It’s an insult, wearing that on a ranch.”
She knew Squeak was just joshing, but the pride in her recent acquisition diminished.
“Pay him no mind,” Mutt said in a raspy whisper. “It’s a fine-looking hat.”
She smiled at Mutt before seeking Travis’s opinion. He shrugged. “It’ll do for now.”
“Well!” She removed the hat and flung it onto the couch. “I guess I just won’t wear it then.”
Travis grinned. “It looks cute. But keep it out of reach of the horses. They might nibble at it.”
She wore the offending hat all day on Tuesday, a defiant glint in her eyes the men found amusing. Secretly, she thought it was funny too. Their good-natured ribbing strengthened her sense of camaraderie, further convincing her she’d made the right decision to work for Travis.
A note from Travis waited on the kitchen table when she arrived at the cabin on Friday to begin her housekeeping duties. Not urgent, but come to my office when you can.
The clear sky and gentle spring breeze lured her into walking instead of taking the UTV. The other day, she discovered a faint trail behind the cabin that meandered through a small, rocky pasture, across a coulee (another new word she’d learned from Travis last week), and then up a grassy slope to the indoor arena.
As she ambled along the trail, the soft, swishing sound of her blue jeans brushing across the grass, and the sensation of warming earth beneath her boots infused Mari with contentment. She rolled up the sleeves on her buttercup yellow western shirt. Thanks to the hay bales she hefted several times a week, her arms were stronger and more supple. Even her fingers were stronger. She raised her hands before her and spread her fingers wide. These hands knew hard physical labor; they’d no longer spend all day tapping data into a computer spreadsheet. Never again.
Travis drew her gaze the second she stepped inside his office. He sat behind his desk, cell phone to his ear, his body in profile, long legs stretched on the floor, one foot encased in a brown leather cowboy boot, the other in a moccasin slipper.
She didn’t think she made any noise, but he swiveled his chair towards her. Sooty eyes swept over her, from the dusty boots, faded jeans, leather belt and western shirt, to the straw hat set at a defiant angle on her head. They settled there for a moment, a glint appearing. Then his gaze dropped to her mouth for a second before lowering to half-mast. “I gotta go, Sim. Sounds like a fair price. I’ll give it serious consideration... You betcha... See you then.”
He shook his head as he set the phone on the desk. “I should’ve told him no straight away.” He lifted his hat, scraped his fingers through his hair, rubbed his nape, and set the hat back in place. “The land’s too rocky, not enough open stretches for decent grazing.”
Mari moved farther into the room. “What land is that?”
“Right next door. Sim Smiley’s place. He’s thinking about moving to Oregon to live with his daughter.”
“I know Sim. He’s a regular at the café.” Her disappointment at the thought of the elderly man leaving Hollister startled her. She hadn’t realized she’d formed an attachment. “He sits at the counter and tells stories of the good old days.”
“Known him since I was a kid. His family came here from Missouri in the early 1900s. Hate to see him leave, but the winters here can be cruel on older bones. And he doesn’t have any family close by.” Travis sighed. “I’ll put the word out. It’s only five hundred acres. Maybe another enterprising young couple like the Sawyers will buy it.” A droll smile curled his mouth. “They can raise goats and open one of those fancy cheese shops. The old-timers will love that.”
“Don’t joke. That just might happen. People like Shawna and Tressa are pushing to bring enterprises like that to Hollister. Tressa’s excited about revitalizing the town.”
He nodded at the two chairs in front of the desk. “Have a seat. So... You’re good friends with Tressa now?”
“Well, I haven’t talked with her since we all went dancing at the Hideaway. But she’s nice.” Mari raised her eyebrows. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“Just thinking of when you told me you wanted to leave Hollister. When you threw those playing cards in the air. Now look at you. Making friends. Enthusiastic for our town’s future. Sounds like you’re planning to stay for a while.”
She answered the question in his voice with an ambivalent shrug, but a pleased smile tugged at her mouth. The gleam in his eyes made it clear how delighted he’d be if she stayed. Those eyes held hers for a breathless moment before he blinked and glanced away.
“I have something for you,” he said, his voice a little rough at the edges. He reached beneath the desk to retrieve a round cardboard box. He set it on the desk and pushed it towards her. “Open it.”
She threw him a befuddled glance before lifting the lid. She gasped. “Is this for me?”
“Yes. Try it on. Sure hope it fits. I used that ugly straw hat as a frame of reference.”
“You said it was cute.”
“I fibbed. Feed it to Mischief. Go on now. Try it on.”
Excitement quivered through her as she removed the hat, a genuine cowboy hat made of soft, fawn-colored felt with a high, dented crown. It had a leather band in complementary colors embellished with diamond-shaped studs. “Oh, Travis. It’s so pretty!”
“Put it on.”
She put it on. “It fits.”
He reached for his crutches, then hobbled around the desk to her chair. With a gentle nudge, he pushed down on the hat until it fit snug on her head. His fingers remained perched on the brim as he gazed down at her happy, upturned face.
He swallowed. “Looks good.” He withdrew his hand. With a jerk of his chin, he directed her glance to the wall mirror beside the filing cabinet. “Go see.”
Mari scurried to the mirror to find shining green eyes staring back from a radiant face. Her smile widened. “Oh, Travis. It’s perfect. I look like a real rancher girl.”
He came to stand behind her, lowering his tall frame to better observe her reflection. His face, so close to hers, heightened her awareness of their differences. His skin, golden tan from years spent outdoors, still seemed glaring white in contrast to her permanent tawny shade; honey-blond hair like sunshine beside her black-as-night ponytail. She realized how oblivious she’d grown in his presence to the fact she was a woman of color. This woman in the mirror once hid in corners and believed everyone when they told her she didn’t belong. Funny, she hadn’t felt that way since...early April.
Unaware of her swirling thoughts, Travis said, “You not only look like a rancher girl, you are one. You’ve done a real fine job these last few weeks. Mutt and Squeak can’t say enough about how impressed they are with your hard work, your enthusiasm and genuine interest.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “This is a thank you gift. And an incentive. We all want you to stay.”
She wanted to stay too. But, all at once, she realized she yearned for something more than being Travis’s ranch hand. What more entailed, she didn’t fully understand right then, other than she never wanted to lose his friendship. “Thank you,” she said, a tremble in her voice.
If her avoidance answering his unspoken question disappointed him, he kept it hidden. His features relaxed into a familiar, imperturbable expression. He patted her shoulder and stepped away. “Well, since you now have the proper hat, Mischief and I will allow you to get on her back.”