Homecoming Ranch (20 page)

But now, an image of Luke jumped into her mind, which she tried to push out. She didn’t understand herself, or the fist in her belly when she talked to Stephen or thought of Luke, and honestly, she was too exhausted to even try at the moment. “I have so much on my mind right now,” she said.

“Sure, sure,” Stephen said. “But I just want you to know, that whatever it is you are going through, I want to help. Or not. And everything can wait until you get back.”

“Thanks, I just need to take care of a couple of things.”

“I know. Do what you need to do. I’ll text you the name of this guy.”

She thanked him and hung up. She didn’t want to think too much right now. And besides, her feet hurt. Madeline walked on to Tag’s Outfitters.

She had to duck her head to step into the place, which looked as if it might have been an adobe barn at one point. The ceiling was very low, the wooden beams exposed. Someone had thought it a good idea to suspend billed hats from the beams. There were dozens and dozens of them, hanging only inches over her head. The windows were small and rectangular, and the only real light came from a glaring fluorescent tube that stretched across the ceiling between the hats.

An old man with long gray hair and a longer gray beard was sitting on a stool behind the counter. He wore a stained sun hat and in his hair a feather that looked as if it had been plucked from a very large bird of prey. He glanced up at Madeline only briefly, then lowered his gaze to what looked like a sudoku puzzle, his pen poised above it.

“Ah… Danielle at the Grizzly Inn said you might have some clothes and things?”

Without lifting his gaze he said, “Got everything you need for living in the mountains. Ladies’ section in the back.”

Madeline looked around the store. There was no clear “back” to the store, just lots of meandering aisles through stacks of boxes. She looked at the man behind the counter. He made a mark on his puzzle.

She started down one path through boxes piled to near the ceiling, some of them leaning precariously. But at the end of that row, Madeline was rewarded with six round racks full of women’s clothing. There was a closet with a curtain pulled across it that she supposed was the dressing room, and a surprisingly cheerful little rug just outside of it.

She perused the racks, sorting through sundresses with skimpy straps and brightly printed fabrics, T-shirts emblazoned with inspirational slogans and mystic symbols, hiking wear, and jeans. Madeline was not much of a shopper. She did not enjoy spending the money she made. She was guided by the fear that something horrible would happen—like her mother would land in a hospital after one of her
nights of partying, with no insurance and poor health—and she would need every penny she ever made.

But today, Madeline decided she could use a little retail therapy. She picked up two of the sundresses, some hiking pants, a pair of jeans, and some T-shirts. She stepped into the dressing room to try them on. They were not her usual style, but one of the dresses reminded her of her blue dress at home. This one was red with white polka dots, and it floated around Madeline’s knees the way Emma’s skirt had floated around hers. Why not? Madeline thought, and smiled at her reflection. Why not wear a frilly dress?

She tried on the other clothes, and happy with her picks, made her way to the front of the store to purchase the items, including a sweater with pretty beading on it she found on the way up the aisle.

She deposited her things on the counter.

“That it?” the man asked, putting aside his magazine.

“No,” Madeline said. “I need shoes.”

The old man perked up at that, clearly interested in the prospect of selling shoes. “What kind?”

“Something practical for walking.”

He eyed her curiously. “What
kind
of walking? Pavement or trail? Improved or unimproved? Hilly or flat?”

She thought about that. “All of the above.”

With a grunt, he pushed himself off the stool, picked up a cane, and wordlessly hobbled around the counter. He led her to a big stack of boxes, where he paused, turned around, and had a good look at her feet. “Pick up your foot, let me see the bottom.”

Madeline did as instructed, presenting the bottom of her foot.

He turned back to the boxes, found one about halfway down, wrested it from the teetering stack and handed the box to her. “Try these.”

Inside the box was a pair of hiking boots. Madeline instantly recoiled. “I was thinking something a little sleeker.”

“Sleeker,” he said, sounding annoyed. “You want good walking shoes, or you want sleek?”

“Right,” she said with a sigh, and sat down to fit the boots on her feet. The old man stood by, watching her as she donned them, then instructed her to walk. He nodded, then made her walk up a little wooden hill, and down again. He didn’t say a word, but then again, he didn’t have to. Madeline
loved
them. After two days of stomping around in her pumps, she felt as if she were walking on pillows. Soft, cushiony, supportive pillows.

“I’ll take them,” she said.

“You’ll be needing socks,” he advised, and bent down, fished around in another box and held out some thick hiking socks.

“Perfect! Thank you.” She was determined never to take them off. Never.

“Need a backpack? Flashlight? Camping gear? Guidebook?”

Madeline, whose mood had been miraculously transformed by supportive footwear, smiled at him. “No, thank you. But I will take this,” she said, and reached above her head and pulled down a bright pink ball cap. She’d never worn a ball cap in her life.

She paid for her things, wore the boots out of the store, and clomped back to the Grizzly, a smile on her face. Funny how such a small thing like comfortable feet could change a person’s outlook. For the first time in two days, Madeline felt as if she could tackle this thing. She knew what she had to do: Assess the situation, take control, and restore order. Simple.

So Dad came in while Marisol was giving me a rubdown, and like seriously, man, he is the
last
person I want to see when I’m with Marisol, but he always comes in like she’s just part of the furniture and starts talking and he said, “There’s a woman outside to see Luke.” And then he looked at Marisol like he was afraid she’d figure out who and start talking it up around town. Well, first of all, Marisol already knew. I said, “Julie’s been sniffing around my big brother,” and Marisol said, “Yeah, she’s on the hunt for a new baby daddy because word on the street is that Brandon is moving to Colorado Springs.”

I really like the idea that Pine River has a “street,” sort of like we’re badass here instead of a bunch of yokels trying to make a living.

Anyway, I knew it was Julie outside because she’d already called the house twice today. Dad was upset about that, too, because man, she did a number on Luke a few years ago. They’d planned the whole wedding. I think she even had a dress, and then she dumped him because Mom was sick all the time, and dude, Luke moped around. I mean, Luke
said
that he got it, that the Kendricks had a lot of issues, and who would want to marry into issues? But he forgot that love is a two-way street, and he needed Julie the most about then, and she bailed on him. You know what they say, love is blind, and Luke, man, he could have used a white cane or a Seeing Eye dog. But dude, we’ve never seen
him like that, and just between you and me and the wall, he was a total dick to all of us. And that wasn’t the end of it! I think she’s called him up four or five times since then, needing him for this or that, getting his hopes up, and then backing off.

That’s what Dad is worried about, because we can both see that it messes with Luke’s head. But I told Dad not to worry, and he said, “Are you sure? Maybe I should have a talk with him,” and I said, “No, no, no, don’t do that. No thirty-year-old man wants to have that kind of talk with his dad, and besides, I am
so
sure, because I know Luke better than anyone, and I asked him once, I said, ‘so, are you over Julie?’ And he said, ‘so over,’ and he wouldn’t have said that if he hadn’t meant it.”

Listen, I know Dr. Phil wants guys to communicate better because he says it every day on his show, but if I ever met him I’d ask him why, because guys don’t need a lot of words to get our points across. Luke said he was over her, and that means he is over her. Paragraph, period, close the book.

So Dad went away after that and Marisol said, “You think you know so much,” and I said, “I know you are craving my body like a chocolate sundae with whipped cream and caramel, so go ahead, baby, have at it.” And she said, “One day, Leo, you are going to talk too much,” and pinched my butt. Hard, man. There’s gotta be a bruise.

Later, after Julie left the pound cake she made for me, even though I’m not supposed to have stuff like that, and her baby pulled the tube out of my catheter, Luke came home from the ranch. He was a totally different man than the depressed one who’d left this morning. He said he took my advice—like who wouldn’t, certified genius here—and he said he’d worked it out, he’d bought us a little time. And then he casually mentions that Blue Eyes might stick around a day or so, but he says it
so
casually that I’m like
ho
, what’s up with
this
? I said, “What about Emma?”

Luke did one of those double takes like he had to remember who Emma was and said, “She went back to L.A.”

I said, “So what do you think? Blue Eyes isn’t going to sell us out after all?”

Luke kind of laughed, a little chuckle that said to me he had a secret, and he said, “Well, I don’t know about that, but at least I’ve got a few days to work on it.” I think he was going to tell me his plan, but then the phone rang, and Luke answered it before Dad could, and surprise! It was Julie. They talked and talked and I started to get a little antsy because man, Luke told me he was
over
her. But then I hear him saying he’ll be there at seven, and the next thing I know, he’s got on his good striped shirt and he’s headed for the door.

I said, “Whoa, whoa—are you going out with
Julie?”
And I said it like she had three eyes and no boobs. Neither of those are true, by the way. “Are you sure about that, man?”

Luke said, “Don’t make a big deal out of this, Leo. She needs some help with her car while her husband is out of town. It’s no big deal.” And he went out the door. Kind of vaulted out, like he thought I was going to ask some more probing questions. And I was. I don’t watch
Dateline
for nothing.

I turned up the Rockies and the Padres baseball game and I didn’t even notice Dad until he came around and stood in front of my chair with his arms folded and glaring down at me like it was
my
fault. “I thought you said no problem,” he said.

And I said, “Okay, let’s not panic. He hasn’t pulled out the ring yet has he?”

Dad said something terribly unkind to someone with motor neuron disease and stomped off. I have to admit, I was a little confused, too, because I would have sworn that Luke was into Blue Eyes. It’s just this vibe I’ve had.

Anyway, when he came home, I was still up, in my bed watching
Top Chef
and wishing I had some potatoes in a port-wine reduction. Luke looked pretty hangdog. He stood in the doorway of my room, leaning up against it, his hands in his pocket and he says, “What are you watching?”

“
Top Chef
. How do you feel about empanadas?”

He said, “Turns out, nothing was wrong with Julie’s car. She wanted to tell me that her marriage is splintering apart.”

“I’ve heard that,” I said.

He looked at the stained carpet (I mean seriously, were they processing wild boar in here before Dad and I moved in, or what?), and he said, “You know what sucks? What sucks is that after she dumped me six weeks before the wedding, it took me a long time to get over it. I mean, I labored like a damn ox to get past it, you know? I don’t like that she’s coming at me now. I don’t like it at all.”

I said, “Yeah, I know. So what are you going to do about it?”

I was hoping he’d say he was going to Kung Fu her ass, but Luke shrugged. He said, “It pisses me off that she can just give me a certain kind of look and I actually start thinking about it. I think, what if?”

Well color me speechless. I could have sworn that would never happen. But I figure that even geniuses have an off day every now and then. Every now and then, I said. You can trust ninety-nine point nine percent of what I tell you, and I am telling you if the Rockies don’t get some pitching talent this year, they might as well hang up their cleats because they won’t even come close to winning the division. You can take that to the bank.

Anyway, I said to my brother, “Luke, please don’t do something totally stupid. You know what Mom always said.”

He looked up, interested in that. “What did Mom always say?”

“She said never wear white underwear and a leopard doesn’t change its spots.”

Luke sort of peered at me like he couldn’t quite make me out, and he said, “So which one is a message for me this evening, genius?”

How obtuse can one guy be? I said, “
Both.
Just don’t do anything stupid. Julie may look good because you’ve been in the desert if you get my drift, but once a coward, always a coward, and she’s a coward. Mom didn’t say that, I did.”

He looked like he was chewing on that for a minute. He said, “Thanks for the advice. So what’s an empanada?”

Seriously, you’d think the guy grew up under a rock.

Bree, the assistant Madeline shared with two other realtors at her firm’s offices, wasn’t very appreciative of Madeline’s checking in on Sunday morning. But Madeline couldn’t wait until Monday; she had too much to do in a very short week. She went over some details of her workload with Bree, making sure that two closings and some market research were covered for the week.

“This isn’t really necessary,” Bree said when Madeline insisted she take notes. “You spent an hour with me going over all the details of your workload for the next month in case your plane went down.”