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“YOU SAID YES, RIGHT?”
“You betcha.”
Travis chuckled. “I’m Whitney’s godfather. She sends me a card every Father’s Day. It’s fun having that extra bond with her.”
It was Monday morning, and they were on the way to Bozeman in Mari’s SUV to stock up on groceries and other bulk items at Costco. When Mari questioned the small trailer Travis had hitched to the vehicle, he explained he did the major shopping every other month. “And I hate it. It’s good to have you along. You’ll stop me buying six cases of chili beans.”
“How was work at the café yesterday?” he said now, his body angled sideways on the passenger seat as he watched her drive.
“Busier than usual. Everyone wants to see Gigi. But because of Mother’s Day too.”
He caught the faint wistfulness in her voice. “You miss her.”
“Weird, right? I shouldn’t.”
“Not weird at all.”
“It’s not so much her I miss, the mother I experienced, but the woman I never met, the person she was before she lost my father. Sometimes I wonder what that woman was like, and if I’m anything like her.”
“If you’re anything like her, then she was good. She chose the wrong path, and there wasn’t anyone to redirect her course.”
Mari gave that some thought. “Kind of like when Squeak was lunging Zeke last week, and Zeke kept tipping his nose out.”
“Until Squeak redirected him to a better course before Zeke tipped his nose out.” Travis sounded pleased. “I didn’t realize you’d paid that close attention.”
“It’s fascinating, what you do.”
“Do you want to learn how to train horses?”
“I’ve thought about it.”
“Says the girl who, only two weeks ago, was afraid they’d bite her.”
She laughed with him.
“My mom and dad are flying in to Bozeman this Thursday,” he said after a comfortable stretch of silence. “Spence and Sage will pick them up at the airport.”
“How long are they staying?”
“Through October. They have a condo in Tucson, Arizona. My dad has arthritis. When he retired a few years back, he and my mom decided to live in a warmer climate during the winter months. They come back for Christmas, though.” His voice seemed a little too casual when he said, “I invited them for dinner this Friday. Can you stay to meet them? Have dinner with us?”
She wasn’t sure if it was trepidation or excitement that caused her pulse to quicken. Maybe both. “I... Yes. I’d like that.”
“Great.”
They’d passed Livingston. For the remaining twenty-five miles of their journey, Travis pointed out the scenery and talked about his brief stint at Montana State University in Bozeman. “Wasn’t for me. Put my money into taking more horse clinics instead.”
“I got my associates degree in liberal arts to keep my uncle happy. College wasn’t for me either. I already knew the career I wanted.”
“And here I imagined I knew everything about you,” Travis said. “What career is that?”
She hesitated. “To be a wife and mother. Raise a family. Ambitious of me, huh?”
“It’s the best and most important job in the world.” He pointed ahead. “Take this next exit.”
Over the past two weeks, Mari had drawn up a list of household necessities. Combined with Travis’s list, it took close to two hours to finish their shopping. They were on the way to the registers, each of them towing loaded flatbed carts, when Mari took a detour to check out the potted plants and flowers. “Travis,” she said. “Is the pasture behind the cabin used for grazing?”
“No. It’s too rocky for the horses. The previous owner put his goats in there.”
“I was wondering... Could I use it for a garden?”
“A garden? You mean, like vegetables?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t need all of it. Just half? I know zilch about gardening, but I want to try.”
He scratched his jaw, a gleam lighting his eyes. “It takes a lot of work, gardening. Pulling weeds and watering. That’ll drag you away from ranch work and housekeeping.”
“Right... I could come earlier in the mornings and stay later. I don’t mind. You wouldn’t have to pay me. This is my project.”
“The growing season’s pretty short in Montana. It might disappoint you.”
“I noticed that pasture gets direct sunlight most of the day. That’s a plus. And there’s plenty of compost to feed the soil.”
“Hmm. That’s true. Compost sure won’t be a problem... But we’d need to haul out all those rocks...”
As he continued to ruminate, she saw he was toying with her. She punched his arm. “Come on. Imagine the money you’ll save not buying fresh vegetables for part of the year.”
He rubbed his arm and made a hurt face. Then he grinned. “Okay. I’ll send Mutt out there with a tractor tomorrow. But let’s talk with my mom first before we buy plants. Seems to me, she never starts her garden until after Memorial Day.”
Mari wanted to hug him.
It was well past noon by the time they finished loading the trailer and the back of the SUV. Travis guided her to a local restaurant where they sat on the patio and shared a platter of fish tacos. As she watched people passing by on the busy sidewalk, she had a sudden longing for the serene, rolling fields on Travis’s ranch. She sighed.
“What are you thinking about?”
She met his probing gaze. “That I am a small-town girl. Really small town. I could never live where there’s more concrete than grass.”
“Not too long ago, you talked about moving to California... Still considering it?”
“No... I like where I am.”
“I also remember you telling me how Hollister isn’t a diverse community, that you stand out a mile.”
“You sure remember a lot.”
“I remember everything you tell me.”
Her heart pounded in an exhilarating way; she decided it safer not to respond to that remark. She lifted her chin. “The girl who said that was looking for excuses to run away before anyone told her she didn’t belong.”
“And now?”
“I’m Blackfeet. I belong here.” She made a playful, shrewd face at him. “More than you do, actually.”
She caught a brief flicker in his eyes that looked like relief. Then respect and pride took precedence.
“Oh, a lot more than I do,” he said. “You know something else? I bet not one person in Hollister will ever say you don’t belong. They don’t care about what you look like or where you’re from as much as they care that you’re a good neighbor. A person who’s willing to help without question, cook a meal for someone in need, sit with a man you barely know and comfort him through the loss of his horse.” He placed his hand in the center of the table, palm up. In answer to his silent request, she rested her hand in his. The warm, gentle press of his fingers around hers generated the same feelings within her as glimpsing a beacon of light above a barn door on an icy winter night. “They see that in you, Mari. You’ve proven you have the heart of a true Montanan.”
***
MARI’S HEART RATE KICKED up a notch as she made one more inspection of Travis’s kitchen table. It was six o’clock on Friday, and his parents’ car had just pulled up the drive. Travis waited for them on the front porch.
Had she overdone it with the white cloth napkins, polished silverware, and the vase of purple tulips in the center of the table?
When Travis came in a half hour ago to shower and change, he said, “That looks real nice.” At the last minute, he told her Squeak and Mutt were going to the Hideaway for a steak dinner. That news sent her nerves skyrocketing; she had counted on Squeak’s cheery banter to fill any potential lulls in conversation. A little miffed Travis hadn’t told her sooner, she removed the two place settings with shaky hands and rearranged everything.
Now she stood beside the table, hands clutched in front of her. Outside, a man’s strident greeting mingled with a softer, feminine voice, Travis’s laughter, and Rocky and Stella’s enthusiastic barking. After several minutes of muted conversation, the front door opened to reveal a slightly plump woman with silvery-blond hair; she was the same height as Mari. She wore blue jeans, boots and a pink ruffled western blouse. Good. Mari didn’t feel so awkward in her own jeans and blouse now.
So, that’s where he gets his grey eyes.
Travis’s mother stared at Mari with frank appraisal before alighting on the table setting. “Well, how lovely. I’ve never seen this cabin look so nice.”
Travis hobbled over to stand beside Mari. His lean, solid body so close to hers gave her an immediate sense of security. “Mari, meet my mom Caroline. Mom, this is Mari Jones.”
“So nice to meet you, Mari. Mm. Something smells delicious. What is it?”
Mari unclasped her hands to shake Caroline’s outstretched hand. “Southern fried chicken and biscuits. Nothing fancy.”
“Best fried chicken I ever ate,” Travis said. “Don’t tell Hedda. And wait until you taste the biscuits. They melt in your mouth.” He placed his palm in the center of Mari’s back, a light touch that had an instant, settling effect. “Dad, come say hello. Mari, this is my dad. Daniel.”
Daniel Hollister reminded Mari of Spence; they had similar statures, dark hair and features. Daniel also had a firm, uncompromising handshake. “Hello. Sage raved how you spruced up this place. I can see that. Nothing like a feminine touch to turn a hovel into a home.” He winked at his son.
“These curtains are a cozy touch,” Caroline said as she strolled into the kitchen area. She ran her fingers along the bottom hem of the thin cotton curtains hanging above the sink.
“Mari made them,” Travis said.
Mari shrugged one shoulder. “It wasn’t hard. Angela Gunderson helped.” No need to confess Mari had never used a sewing machine until three nights ago when the Gundersons were at the Redfoxes for dinner. When Mari mentioned Travis’s cabin needed some lightweight curtains for the summer, Angela took her to her quilting workspace above the saddlery to dig through shelves and bins of remnants. With Angela’s patient instruction, Mari pinned together three different cotton pieces—red with polka dots, yellow with white stripes, and a sky-blue paisley—and learned how to sew them together on Angela’s machine. Now she couldn’t wait to create something similar for the other cabin windows.
“I bet Angela’s over the moon about her granddaughter,” Caroline said. “I’m stopping by tomorrow morning to visit Pam and see the baby. How’s she doing?”
“Pam? Exhausted but happy.” For the first time since Caroline’s arrival, Mari’s face relaxed in a warm smile. “Maddy Rose is a sweet baby. She doesn’t fuss much.”
Travis skidded his palm up Mari’s back to rest on her shoulder. “Jonathan and Pam asked Mari to be Maddy’s godmother.”
Mari caught Caroline’s flashing glance at her son’s hand. “Congratulations, Mari,” the woman said. “So, does that mean you’re staying in Hollister for a while longer?”