House of Mercy (6 page)

Rose Borzoi was already at the stove. Beth’s mother was a striking woman made even more beautiful than she was in youth by a quarter century of admiration poured over her by her husband. No one took more pride in Rose’s physical and intellectual strength than Abel Borzoi. His wife was nearly six feet tall barefoot, and she always went barefoot in the house, summer and winter. Her one vanity was her feet.

Her coarse brown hair was still as long and as thick as it appeared in her wedding picture, though it had started to gray. Rose bound it daily in a braid, then threw it back over the wide shoulders of her husband’s work shirts, which were too big for her at the shoulders and yet also seemed to fit like a good trademark, rolled up to the elbows and billowing out over hips widened by childbirth and horse riding.

Beth’s father was at the table, drinking his coffee.

“Hi, baby girl.” He beckoned her into a snug embrace while he stayed seated. Abel Borzoi was an overweight, grizzly bear man with a wide jaw and clean-shaven face and an open spirit that smiled on sinners and saints alike.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, though the truth was her parents had risen early.

Rose acknowledged Beth by saying, “Dog goes out.”

Beth put Herriot out every morning. Her mother didn’t need to make a point of ordering it. Nevertheless, Beth sent Herriot out the back door without comment. The Blazing B had four dogs, and though Herriot was the only one who slept with the humans, she was not allowed to dine with them. Her food would have been already set out with the horses’ near the barn.

Beth washed her hands at the sink and then fetched the pot, the water, and the steel-cut oats she’d need to make the oatmeal. There were fresh berries in a strainer in the sink, and her mother tossed slabs of ham onto a hot griddle. Her brothers, Levi and Danny, would come in at six to eat. Rose and a hired cook made the big hot midday meal for everyone down at the Hub. When it came to supper, usually cold sandwiches and leftovers, it was every man for himself.

Whatever her parents had been speaking about, they weren’t going to continue in front of her.

“I’m going to fix this,” Beth announced. “I have a plan. Today I’m going to go speak to Mr. Darling’s attorney.”

“You shouldn’t do anything without speaking to ours first,” her father advised.

“Hear me out—maybe we won’t need him. Maybe we won’t need to go to court. I’m to blame here. I did a stupid thing, and I can own up to that. I’ll pay Mr. Darling what he wants. I’ll pay him back for as long as it takes.”

“And just where are you going to get the money for that small country it seems he wants to buy?” Rose asked.

“I’ll start with my tuition.”

Abel set his coffee cup on the table. “You will not. You’re going to vet school in September, Beth. There’s no reason for this incident to derail that plan.”

Rose scoffed. “Incident. Hear her out, Abel. She has a part to play in whatever solution we’ve got to come up with.”

Beth measured salt into her hand and tossed it into the pot of water. “My tuition will be like a down payment. And then I’ll get a job. Two jobs. We’ll negotiate a payment plan. Ten years, twenty years, whatever it takes. I might have to put vet school off for a few years, but I can save up for it again.”

Her father shook his head. “I don’t support the idea.”

“If we don’t come up with some money we won’t be able to support anything,” Rose said. “Not this ranch, not those men, not our own flesh and blood.” She stabbed at the pork with a spatula. “I can’t believe you put us in this position, Beth.”

“Rose, honey. You’re too hard on her. We did fool things when we were her age.”

“Nothing like this,” her mother said. “Nothing that jeopardized the lives of a dozen other people.”

Beth’s insides were bound up in knots of shame. She wouldn’t be eating breakfast today.

“If I make a proposal like this now, he might agree to a lesser amount of money, don’t you think?” she said. “He’ll avoid all the legal hassles, the attorney’s fees—”

“It doesn’t usually work that way,” Abel observed. “Men like Darling tend to enjoy those things. And they’re impatient.”

“They’re hiring for summer down at the feed-and-tack,” Beth said. “Might turn into a full-time job. And I can work at King Soopers on the off shifts.”

“And while you’re working twenty-four-seven elsewhere, who’s going to pick up your slack around here?” her mom said.

Beth’s older brother, Levi, strode into the kitchen and snatched up a slice of ham with his bare fingers right off the griddle. “Won’t be me,” he said. At twenty-six, Levi had his father’s broad-faced features but none of his body mass. “I’m not gonna lie in this bed Beth made.”

“Yes you will,” Rose said, grabbing the meat out of his hand and throwing it back down to cook longer. “We’re a family. Breakfast will be ready in five.”

“It’s ready now,” Levi said.

“Clock says it’s not. Where’s Danny?”

“How should I know?”

Beth said, “We already made plans to redistribute the chores when I go to school in the fall. So we make the switch a month ahead of schedule. And I won’t be at school. That’s all.”

No one seemed to be listening to her.

Levi said, “You couldn’t
sell
this land for what Darling wants out of it. He wants us to bleed.”

The salty scent of ham came off the stove. Beth’s water seemed unwilling to boil. She couldn’t argue with the likely truth of Levi’s mean-spirited point. Rose tended to the strawberries that needed slicing by slamming the colander onto the cutting block. Levi poured himself a cup of coffee.

Fifteen-year-old Danny entered the silence with a whistle and went straight to the sink to wash up.

“Taciturn and sullen, all of you,” Danny said. “Who are you and what have you done with my family?”

“Beth killed them off,” Levi said.

“All but you, you mean.” Danny dried his hands at the sink. “You’re the same as ever.”

“You’re early,” Rose said.

“It’s the ham’s fault. Who can resist redolence like that?”

“Shut up, Danny,” Levi ordered. “If you’ve got time to be
assimilating
the dictionary, you’ve got time to do more work around here. Beth’s about to shirk all her responsibilities.”

“No, I’m going to work harder than ever before,” she said. She tried to remind herself that Levi’s sharp edge had been honed for years prior to this moment and had little to do with her. It was the ranch that he hated—the charity of it, to be precise. His vision for how the Blazing B might reach its full potential diverged from their father’s view in significant ways.

Of course, both men would perceive this suit as a terrible setback. Perhaps an insurmountable one.

“Everyone in this family works hard,” Abel said. He leaned back in his chair and smoothed his shirt over his ample belly with one hand. “And no one works harder on our behalf than the Lord himself, and I expect you all to remember that. Bethesda, no mistake is beyond God’s ability to repair it. Your heart is in the right place, and I know that. We’ll come through it.”

“Bethesda,” Levi mocked. “You know you’re in a bad spot when you’ve got the full name coming at you.”

Her father dropped his fist on the table and then lifted his finger toward Levi. “Let’s have some respect, son.”

“She hasn’t earned mine yet.”

“But
I
demand it. We’ve got a tough row to hoe here, and if we don’t do it together this is going to end as badly for you alone as it will for the Blazing B. Your mother and I named her Bethesda on purpose, and I say it as a blessing, not a punishment. You know what it means.”

“House of mercy,” Danny offered. He couldn’t help it. And he couldn’t know how his ability to irritate Levi was a salve on Beth’s heartache. Rose shoveled ham slices onto four plates and left the fifth one bare. Beth stirred the pot of oats without looking at anyone.

“House of mercy.” Abel’s confirmation also had lighthearted warning in it for his youngest child.
Hold your tongue for a minute, would you?
“That’s what we’re about, isn’t it? This ranch is all about showing mercy to people who need it, people who maybe haven’t ever had any in their lifetimes. We are the Blazing Bethesda.”

“Your great-grandpa named this place the Blazing B long before any of us were born,” Levi challenged.

Beth felt his eyes on her back, resenting her status as her father’s only daughter, the princess with the privileges.

Levi continued. “He named it for the Borzois, and for those Wasatch maples that turn to fire every fall.”

“That’s the greatness of a great name,” Abel said. “It grows into itself. After five generations, we now blaze year-round with the work of the Holy Spirit. This ranch belongs to God, not to us. He’ll see us through.”

Levi shook his head and took his feet off the table. Danny took his seat next to his older brother. As Beth poured the oatmeal into bowls, she planned a time to call Mr. Darling’s attorney.

Rose placed the oatmeal and plate of strawberries in front of her husband.

“Where’s my ham?” He grabbed his wife around the waist before she could get away.

“Just what you need is another heart attack right now,” she said.

He kissed her hand. “I’m three years plaque-free, Rose. I’m healthy as a horse.”

“An old horse. And you’re not plaque-free.”

Abel winked at Beth as she sat down beside him. “She runs a tight ship, your mother. Don’t take it personal. She’s part of the reason why we’re all going to make it. Let’s pray.”

5

B
eth’s proposal to compensate Mr. Darling in monthly installments out of her steady income for as many years as it might take was mocked and rejected. And then it bit her on the backside. Mr. Darling’s counsel used her proposal as an admission of guilt. The Borzois’ attorney was almost as furious at her as her mother was.

Nonetheless, it was agreed that Beth ought to be making as much money as possible until the final judgment was issued, and within the following week she was able to get two jobs down the road in Alamosa. They became a shelter for her, an escape. As May slipped into June and then July, the ranch fell into an anxious rhythm of silent work while everyone waited for the legal mishap, the inspired idea, or the lottery card that would save them from the inevitable. If the judge did not offer her grace, there would be no way for the family to keep the Blazing B.

The associates eyed her warily, as if sensing that she might be a weak calf about to get picked off by a coyote. On the Blazing B, the least hardy animals were allowed to die off for the benefit of the herd. Assistance went to the strongest stock in an effort to keep them that way. Only Wally tipped his hat every time he crossed her path, because he kept forgetting her offense.

The ranch hands were gracious. Dr. Roy and Jacob were practically family, very understanding family. Their unconditional love could bring Beth to tears. How could she have put their livelihood at risk? They’d poured fifteen years into this endeavor—what would they do if she destroyed it? Pastor Eric regularly offered prayers, and Emory made a habit of stopping by to see how she was holding up.

In time Beth learned to avoid them all.

One morning when she was driving off the ranch to get to her shift at the feed-and-tack, halfway between the Hub and the highway she came across a girl walking up the drive with a backpack on her shoulder. She looked barely sixteen and wore canvas sneakers with holes in the toes. Beth rolled down her window and brought her truck to a stop.

“Help you with something?” she asked.

“Is this the Blazing B?”

“It is.”

“I heard—they told me I might find a job here?”

“Well I don’t know who said that, but I’m sorry. We don’t have a thing. We’re not hiring right now.”

Tears sprang to the girl’s eyes, but she succeeded in holding them back. “You sure? It was the folks down at the Methodist church. They were real certain y’all might have something for me to do.” She looked down at her feet. “Maybe a place to stay.”

Beth weighed this. Several of their associates had been referred to them by that church, but never anyone so young. The program they ran here wasn’t for minors. Or even women. But the teen’s timid demeanor reached all the soft spots of Beth’s heart.

“Did someone from the church give you a ride up here?”

“No, uh . . . John Adkins brought me over. My foster dad. Was. My foster dad.”

“You want me to give him a call for you? Have him pick you up again?”

“Uh, no. No.” She looked back in the direction from which she’d come, as if trying to decide what to do. “He won’t . . . I mean, I won’t be going back there.”

“Why not?” Beth immediately worried that the girl was a victim of some unspeakable evil—as if whatever circumstances had put her in the system in the first place weren’t awful enough.

“Turned eighteen yesterday.”

Beth blinked at her.

“Aged out of the system,” she clarified.

“And he just threw you out?”

“He’s not a bad man. He and his wife are decent people. It just happens.”