Matt (9 page)

M
att led the way to the corral, where the horses were grazing. Leaning on the fence, he turned to Vanessa. “Do you ride?”

She nodded. “From the age of eight until I was twelve, I was horse crazy. I pestered my parents until they allowed me to take jumping lessons at a suburban hunt club. I know they were terrified that I'd be hurt, and they couldn't understand why I was so in love with horses, but they couldn't stand to see me pout, so they gave in.”

“I bet you were great at pouting.”

She chuckled. “It's an art form that most girls learn. Boys—” she shrugged “—not so much. It just isn't attractive on a boy. But I was a champion pouter. I wore down my poor parents until they would have rather taken a sharp stick to the eye than see me pout another day.”

They laughed. Matt glanced skyward. “I think it's too late to ride today, but if you want, we could take a couple of horses into the hills tomorrow.”

She nodded. “I'd like that.”

“It's a deal, as long as the weather cooperates.” He turned toward the house. “We'd better clean up before supper.”

Vanessa looked down at her dung-covered boots, grateful that Yancy and Nelson had urged her to leave her new ones behind. And then she realized that those two had known exactly what kind of work she'd be doing in the barn.

Those two sly old men. And they hadn't given her a word of warning. She laughed at herself as she walked beside Matt.

He glanced over. “What so funny?”

“Me. I really didn't have a clue what ranching was like. I guess I still don't.”

“Don't beat yourself up over it. How could a Chicago lawyer know what the typical day is like on a ranch in Montana? Besides, there really is no typical day. Ranching is like bungee jumping. Every morning you take a leap of faith and expect that wherever you manage to land, at least you'll land on your feet.”

“And if you land on your head? Then what?”

He held the back door and allowed her to precede him. “You get through your day while nursing a headache.”

“Great. I'll try to land on my feet.”

“I'd put money on that. You strike me as a woman who always lands on her feet.” He eased off his boots and headed toward the oversized sink.

Vanessa did the same and watched as he lathered up to his elbows, then placed his hands under the faucet. The water poured out in a steady stream.

“A hands-free sink. I'm impressed.”

He winked. “Maybe we knew a city lawyer was coming, and we didn't want to look like yokels.”

She washed and reached for a thick white towel from a stack on the shelf above them. “Or maybe the city lawyer needs to alter her mental image of Montana ranchers.”

He smiled. “Actually you can thank Reed for this, and for dozens of other New Age gadgets. He's our tech nerd. Reed's favorite hobby is browsing through catalogs of all the latest equipment. He just informed us that he's thinking of ordering a drone.”

She turned to him. “A drone? What for?”

He shrugged. “To keep track of things. With a spread this size, we usually do flyovers with one of our planes to check on the herds every week or so.”

Vanessa shook her head. “A drone. Who'd have thought?”

As they stepped into the kitchen, Yancy looked up from the oven. “Well, did you get a chance to do a little work, Nessa?”

She nodded. “I'm grateful that you suggested those rubber boots.”

“Got a taste of mucking stalls, did you?”

“I did. And I got to step in a lot of yucky straw and other things too disgusting to mention.”

The old cook grinned. “Consider that your ranch baptism.”

“Are you saying it will get easier after that?”

“Not at all. But next time you volunteer, you'll be prepared for the worst.” He stirred something on the stove. “Dinner in an hour.”

“Just enough time for a long, hot shower,” Matt muttered.

“That sounds heavenly.” She trailed Matt to the stairway.

Once in her room she stripped off her filthy clothes, which had been brand-new just hours earlier, and stood beneath a hot spray, sighing with pure pleasure.

An hour later, dressed in clean denims and a simple cotton shirt the color of raspberries, her hair flowing long and loose below her shoulders, she made her way downstairs and followed the sound of voices and laughter to the kitchen.

While Yancy put the finishing touches on the meal, the rest of the family was gathered around a big, open fireplace on the far side of the kitchen. Their comfortable chairs had been arranged in a semicircle to take advantage of both the fire and the amazing view of the sun setting on the peaks of the hills in the distance.

“…comes with an instruction book as thick as a Bible.” Reed was gesturing with his longneck. “I can't wait to get my hands on it.”

“The instruction book or the drone?” Luke shot a grin at the others, who were enjoying Reed's obvious excitement.

“Both.”

Matt beckoned Vanessa over. He pointed to a tray on the counter, holding an array of bottles and glasses. “What would you like to drink before we eat?”

She noted the opened bottle of pinot grigio, and the glass in Gracie's hand. “I think I'll try that.”

Matt handed her a stem glass of pale, chilled wine.

“So when do we get to see this glorious new toy?” Frank asked.

“It might take a while. First I have to look into any rules and regulations that might bar its use in Montana.”

Nelson frowned. “Rules and regulations. In my day…”

Grace shot him a look that had him pausing.

“The company guaranteed delivery by the end of the month.” Reed turned to his brothers. “But don't even think about using it until I get a chance to read through the manual. I don't want anyone messing with it and screwing up the controls.”

Matt winked at Vanessa and said in an aside, “Our technonerd is at it again.”

Overhearing, Luke added, “I know a couple of women at Clay's Pig Sty who wish Reed could get as excited about seeing them on Friday night as he does about his gadgets.”

“It doesn't matter what they think.” Colin looked at his nephews. “You're both spending the weekend up in the hills with the herd.”

Reed finished his beer. “Actually, I prefer the company of cattle to anything I'd find at Clay's.”

“There's something twisted in that mind of yours, bro.” Luke tipped up his longneck just as Yancy set a salad bowl and a cruet of his homemade dressing in the center of the table.

“Dinner's ready.” Yancy sliced roast beef on a platter before setting it aside.

Nelson finished his martini and nibbled the olive before pushing out of the big, overstuffed chair he'd claimed by the fire. He strolled to his usual spot at one end of the table. “I hope you made your au gratin potatoes to go with that fine beef, Yancy.”

“I did, Great One.” Yancy set a casserole dish on the table.

Vanessa found herself smiling at his use of the old gentleman's nickname. As Matt had said, “Great One” suited Nelson LaRou perfectly. From his tailored pants and shirt, to the apricot silk ascot that would look over the top on any other man, he could only be called great. The Great One.

Her smile grew when Frank and Grace held hands as they crossed the room. Frank held her chair as she took her seat. Then he settled himself at the head of the table.

Matt put a hand beneath Vanessa's elbow, leading her toward the table as the rest of them took their places.

Burke sat beside Colin, while Yancy moved back and forth from the stove to the table, handing out platters of roast beef, a dish of steamed vegetables, and a basket of crusty bread still warm from the oven.

As they helped themselves before passing the dishes around, Vanessa couldn't believe the amount of food. But then, they had all engaged in hard, physical labor the entire day.

“Your roast beef is done to perfection, Yancy.” Nelson reached for the casserole. “And your au gratin potatoes—” he touched thumb and finger to his lips “—sublime.”

“And this bread.” Grace looked over at the cook. “You've added something.”

“Asiago. And just a bit of herbs.”

“It's wonderful.”

Yancy beamed. He turned to Colin. “That rainstorm may have done us a favor. Most of the snow disappeared just in time for calving.”

Colin nodded. “But now we have the mud to contend with. I just hope we get a few mild weeks and lots of sunshine to dry up the ground before they drop their calves.”

Vanessa was listening with interest. “The cows don't give birth in the barns?”

Matt shook his head. “That might work on a small spread. Our herds number in the thousands. We've got teams of wranglers with each herd, assisting with difficult births. And for a first-time mother, there are plenty of those. But for those days immediately following the birth, the cow and her calf are vulnerable to everything nature can throw at them. Snowstorms. Predators.”

“Are they in enclosures?”

“They're on open range.”

“How can you possibly keep them all safe?”

“We can't. But we do our best. We post wranglers to ride the perimeter of the herds through the night. That helps to discourage predators. But a few always manage to slip past and snatch a newborn. Don't forget. Hunger makes them bold.”

She tried not to shiver at the image that came to mind. A hungry wolf dragging a bleeding newborn into the brush, where others waited for a feast. And then a cow, heavy with milk, waiting for a calf that would never return.

This wasn't what she wanted to think about over such a wonderful meal.

Later, as the conversation swirled around her, Vanessa looked at her empty plate. Even though her appetite had been curbed by her thoughts, she'd managed to eat more in one sitting than she would usually consume in two or three days.

Grace smiled at her family around the table. “How about dessert in the family room?”

“Sounds perfect.” Frank pushed back his chair and offered his arm to his wife.

The others followed them past a formal dining room and into a large room dominated on one wall by a huge stone fireplace. Across the room were floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at rolling hills that only days ago were covered in snow. Now, after that storm, they were already showing hints of spring green.

As they settled into comfortable chairs and sofas, Yancy passed around cups of steaming coffee before cutting into a chocolate cake layered with cherry filling and topped with cherry-vanilla ice cream.

When Vanessa bit into it, she couldn't help sighing. “Oh, Yancy, I don't think I've ever tasted anything better.”

“Thank you, Nessa.” He was beaming as he took a seat by the fire and helped himself to dessert.

“I can't remember the last time I ate this much at one time,” she said with a laugh.

“Nothing like a good meal after a day of ranch chores.” Luke helped himself to a second slice topped with more ice cream.

“Well, Vanessa.” Grace sipped her coffee. “Now that you've seen our town, what do you think?”

“It's a pretty little town. I enjoyed myself. Just as Matt promised, I found everything I needed at Anything Goes. And we had a great lunch at Clay's…saloon.”

“Go ahead,” Reed teased. “You can say Pig Sty.”

Everyone laughed.

“All right. Lunch at Clay's Pig Sty was surprisingly good.”

“But not as good as dinner, right?” Yancy winked at Reed.

“Of course not. After a meal like this, Clay would have to become a gourmet chef to top it.”

Again, the cook beamed at her praise.

Luke shot a knowing smile at Reed. “And now that you've become…intimately involved with our barns, how would you rate them?”

Amid much laughter she kept a perfectly straight face. “Really big. Really stinky. And the hardest work I've done in years. But I will admit that when I was young, I took jumping lessons, and after every class I was required to groom my horse and hose down her stall, as well. I would rate hosing as a much easier manner of hygiene than shoveling.”

“So hosing has your vote?” Reed looked around at the others.

“Definitely.”

Luke slapped a hand to his forehead. “Why didn't you think about putting drains in every stall when you built that barn, Grandpop? Think of all the work you could have saved us.”

Frank nodded. “In fact, I'm thinking that very thing. Technonerd, is there a solution to our problem of no drains?”

Reed pretended to think before saying solemnly, “Just think of all the manure we'd waste, putting it down the drain. I vote that we get more willing workers.”

“And where do we get these workers?”

Reed looked pointedly at Colin. “I do believe it's your duty to find a wife and begin producing your share of workers, Uncle.”

Colin nearly choked on his coffee while the others laughed.

Luke joined in the fun. “I think you should skip the hills this weekend and spend your time at the Pig Sty. I've heard any number of women say they'd like to have Colin Malloy's baby.”

Colin said with a straight face, “I just may take you up on this and go wife hunting at the Pig Sty. I'm sure that would make my family proud.”

The teasing continued until the fire had burned to embers.

With a yawn, Grace set aside her empty cup. “I don't know about the rest of you, but I need my sleep. And tonight, it's in a real bed. I love trailing my mustangs in the wilderness, but after a while, I start missing my bed.”

“And the husband who keeps your feet warm,” Frank added.

One by one the others got to their feet and called good night before taking to the stairs.

Grace paused. “Vanessa, if there's anything at all that you want or need, please let us know. I hope you'll be comfortable while you're here.”