Christmas At The Ranch

CHAPTER 1

It had snowed two days ago and now the town was all covered in white. Low hanging grey clouds predicted another snowfall and the ranchers around Laramie, Wyoming braced themselves for a blizzard. Extra feed was spread for the cattle and the animals were brought in naturally protected areas where they could weather the incoming storm. Other than that, people were decorating and shopping for the Christmas celebration and going about their business.

The stranger arrived around noon and stopped to buy gas at a station near downtown. He was driving a nondescript SUV covered partly in snow. Probably its color was originally called Golden Sand, or some such. Now it was plain beige. A large wreath with a red bow was anchored to the rear.

No one knew who the stranger was and he didn’t answer when the friendly waitress at the diner where he stopped next to grab a burger, asked him. He only grunted his thanks and proceeded to eat the food in front of him. When he finished, he left a generous tip on the table and went on his way.

“He can’t be a bad man if he celebrates Christmas,” the waitress concluded shrugging, disappointed she couldn’t give more details to her friends about the newcomer in town.

He didn’t talk to anyone, and didn’t ask any questions either. He seemed to know his way around town though. Trish, the receptionist at the veterinarian, told her friends that he didn’t stop at any motel in town. He was seen driving north on Route 30.

“Not long now,” Kevin Monroe muttered, driving slowly, squinting to see ahead in the ocean of white snow in front of him. The country road had been plowed sometime in the morning, but was well on its way to be covered with snow again.

When he’d left Nebraska, it had seemed like a good idea to come home to the ranch where he’d been born. Now he was not so sure. Twenty years was a long time to be gone without visiting. People tended to forget you. Add to this that he had not told his brother, Connor, about his intentions and he was not sure if he would be welcomed.

The ranch house was just as he remembered it. The new front porch and fresh paint showed how prosperous the place was under Connor’s ownership and management. Spruced up for the holiday, it looked even better, festive and picture perfect. His big brother had done well, just as Kevin knew he would.

There were a lot of cars parked in front of the house. On top of coming unannounced, it looked like he had arrived at a wrong moment too. The temptation to drive back to town to find a motel somewhere was great, but he’d driven all day long and was not keen to face the snowy roads again.

He squeezed his SUV between two larger trucks and went to knock on the door. Music, loud voices, and laughter could be heard from inside. Great, he’d landed in the middle of a party. Used to everyday solitude of a farmer, Kevin was not too much into socializing.

The door cracked open and a cute brunette with blue-violet eyes looked at him with curiosity. She carried a squirming toddler in her arms. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m sure you must be related to one of the guests. Come in,” she said opening the door wider.

“Is Connor at home?” Kevin asked, not budging from the porch, like waiting for an excuse to turn around and drive away.

The brunette laughed. “Wouldn’t it be strange if he were missing?” Then she half-turned and hollered. “Connor, there’s someone here to see you.”

It didn’t take long for a man to come to the door and stand behind the tiny brunette, placing a hand possessively on her waist. Kevin almost didn’t recognize his older brother. Connor looked like their father, tall, dark, and well-built, with the same air of authority about him. Here the similarities stopped. The permanent frown of dissatisfaction, the bitterness on their father’s face were absent. Connor looked like a prosperous rancher, content with his lot in life, very much in love with his woman.

After several moments of studying each other, it was Connor who recognized him and opened his arms. “Good heavens, Kevin. Is that you?”

The toddler, bored with the inactivity, chose that moment to emit a loud yowl of protest. Assured that Connor knew the stranger, the brunette excused herself and disappeared inside the house leaving them alone.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Kevin answered, letting Connor hug him and pat him on the back. He was not used to this kind of overt manifestations of affection. There had been very few in his life.

“Come in, come in,” Connor invited him. “You couldn’t have come at a better time. We are celebrating my son Noah’s birthday. The entire Monroe clan is here. All the Monroe brothers with their families. Well, all except Jeb, who is still looking for fame in Nashville and Jon, who was killed in Alaska last year. I wrote you about it. A tragic story, but it brought Zack back home. At least that.” Connor pulled him inside and closed the door. “We’ll talk about us later. Now come to meet the others. You saw my wife Violet and our little Daniel and old Arlene is still with us. A blessing my wife calls her, as Violet is not very talented in the kitchen.” Connor stopped before entering the great room where the guests were. “How long can you stay?” he asked Kevin.

“I don’t know. It depends,” Kevin answered evasively. That was the truth. He was free as a bird and he had yet to decide what to do with the rest of his life.

Connor scrutinized him in silence. Then he nodded. “I understand. It’s that kind of visit.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we all had moments like this, when life comes to a halt and when you think all is at an end. In reality, it’s a crossroads and you have to choose what path to follow from now on,” Connor commented before pushing him in.

Kevin wanted to ask if it ever gets better, if the hurt goes away at least. If this dazed state of confusion, hurt and anger all mixed together would ever stop.

But there was no more time for private conversation. He was inside a roomful of people, and he didn’t know most of them. His brothers were all there, as Connor promised. They were older, all with families and he barely recognized them. They were strangers to him. Along the years, after he’d left, he’d kept in touch only with Connor, a sparsely correspondence, a message once a year. Even if the cell phone assured an easy instant connection, they preferred the impersonal way of emailing instead of talking.

So, he was introduced to everyone in the room and shook more hands than he ever had in the past year, and patted many kids on the head, until he forgot which of the lovely women was married to whom and if the kids were his nieces and nephews or the other guests’ children.

He had never seen so many people in one room even at the local church in Whirlwind, Nebraska where he had lived.

An older woman came to him and after kissing him on both cheeks she pulled him in the kitchen. Good old Arlene, who used to make him cherry tarts, his favorites. Briefly he wondered if his brothers also saw him as old and weathered just like he was surprised how much they all had changed.

“Kevin, my boy, I had lost hope of seeing you again in this lifetime,” Arlene said, placing in front of him a plate with a generous helping of roast beef and mashed potatoes.

He’d eaten barely an hour ago at the diner in town, but he didn’t want to upset Arlene by refusing to eat. Besides, the food smelled so appetizing that he grabbed the fork and tasted it. It was delicious and in a strange way the smell reminded him of the moments from the past when, as a kid, he loved to sneak in the kitchen to enjoy Arlene’s food. Happy moments. Very few of them. The rest of his memories were filled with his father’s permanent disapproval and the general gloom that reigned in the house. Better not to go there down memory lane.

“Are you here for good?” Arlene wanted to know.

“No. Only until I decide what I want to do.” He gave her the same answer that he’d given Connor. It was the truth. “Perhaps I should go to a hotel,” he reasoned aloud.

“Nonsense. This house is large enough for every one of you Monroes in need of a place to stay until you settle down. This is how it was meant to be. All your brothers either stayed here long into their twenties until they found their own path in life like Adam and Jeb, or they moved back home later in search of a new life like Ethan and more recently Zack. Now it’s your turn to return. Take your time to find the right answers.”

“How do you know I’m in need of a new life?” Kevin asked her. He should have expected that this woman who’d raised them all seven motherless brothers would know him well.

“You’re here, aren’t you? After twenty years away, you returned alone, without a woman or kids of your own. Something went wrong. I don’t know what. You’ll tell me when you’re good and ready. The past is not so crucial. The future is. Do what you have to do.”

The door opened and two men came in laughing and slapping each other’s back. “...and then he looked at me with those sheep eyes of his,” said the first, a giant of a man dressed in rancher garb, jeans and a plaid shirt. It was Kevin’s brother Adam, owner of an auto service business in town. He’d always been surly as a boy, if Kevin remembered correctly. Now, he had changed.

“Meh,” the second man dressed in a sheriff’s uniform said and both of them started to laugh again.

“Arlene, we came for another glass of that special beverage of yours,” Adam told her. “Kevin, welcome, man. Here is my best friend Brett Lockhart. Don’t speed in town or he’ll ticket you.”

Kevin was just placing his empty plate in the sink and almost dropped it. Lockhart? Bully Lockhart, who used to make fun of him because he was smaller than his brothers? Kevin studied the deputy without extending his hand to shake. Yep, it sure was him, Bully Lockhart. A bit older, like the rest of them. But it was him. And Adam’s best friend no less. When and how did the world change so much? Not only people, but also familiar places and the order of things.

Meanwhile, the two men got a bottle of Arlene’s liquor and were ready to return to the other guests.

“You two, be careful not to imbibe excessively or your wives will make you sleep in the barn,” she shouted after them. “Good men, both of them,” she added when the door closed after them.

“I don’t know about Adam, but I doubt Lockhart is even remotely a good man,” Kevin grumbled.

“Believe it. He has changed.”

* * *

If you enjoyed this preview, Christmas At The Ranch is available now.

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Tales Of Old Wyoming – western historical fiction