Daisies in the Canyon(6)

Rusty nodded. “I can hear the Texas accent in all your voices. Ezra only spoke of having three daughters that last year of his life, and I wondered where you were located. Now let’s talk about bedrooms. I’ve moved my stuff out of the room I’d been using since Ezra got sick and back out to the bunkhouse. There are three bedrooms down the hallway off the living room and one bathroom.”

Abby cocked her head to one side. Another gesture like Ezra’s.

“Tub or shower?” she asked.

“Claw-foot tub and a small walk-in shower we had installed when Ezra couldn’t get in and out of the tub anymore,” Rusty answered. “One room was Ezra’s. I’ve cleaned out the closet and the drawers. Packed it all up and put it in storage out in the barn. Who wants that room? It does have the added benefit that it has a small half bath to go with it.”

Bonnie blanched and shivered like someone had shoved an icicle down her backbone. Shiloh’s nose practically curled.

“I’ll take it,” Abby said.

“Did he die in there?” Bonnie asked.

Rusty nodded. “But he did not die in the bed. He got so weak that we rented a hospital bed. I sent it back yesterday. I was hoping Abby would take that room. Bonnie, you can have the room across the hall from her and Shiloh gets the last one.”

“Why?” Abby asked.

“That’s the way Ezra said it was to be done. I didn’t ask questions, but I would have changed it if no one wanted to stay in his old room,” Rusty said.

Abby shrugged and went back to eating. Someone dying in a room didn’t appear to bother her one bit. She polished off her first plate of food, trashed it, and filled another, taking two chicken wings and a thigh, another helping of potato salad, and a big scoop of sweet potato casserole.

She sat back down beside him and their knees bumped against each other as she got settled. The heat in his leg took a while to cool even after she moved hers.

“Hungry?” Cooper asked to take his mind off the electricity bouncing around under the table.

“In my business, you eat when you can and especially when the food is good like this is,” she answered. “So, Rusty, what’s the plan? I know nothing about ranching. Do lessons begin tomorrow or Monday?”

“Work is every day. If you want to learn, you get up at five, have breakfast, and be ready to go by six,” he said. “Quittin’ time is dark or when the job is done.”

“Then I’ll get up at four to get my PT—that’s army lingo for exercise or physical therapy—done before five. I started in the army as a recruit. I’m willin’ to start on the ranch in the same capacity.”

But for how long? A day, a week, a whole month? Cooper wondered.





Chapter Three

A few snowflakes drifted down from the gray skies and came to rest on Abby’s jacket when she left the house right after lunch. Her duffel bags and the rest of the things from her truck were stacked neatly in the corner of the bedroom. She had taken time to unpack her snack suitcase, and now the top drawer in the dresser was filled to capacity. A bulging pocket gave testimony that she couldn’t get another piece of candy or bag of chips tucked in that drawer.

The small wooden box holding her mother’s ashes sat on the dresser. They’d never traveled with her before, but she couldn’t leave them behind this time. The rest of her things she could unpack and arrange after dark, but right then she wanted to see exactly what this ranch looked like. If it didn’t feel right, she would reload her things into the truck and go back to Galveston and be a beach bum. As sleep deprived as she was, she might not make it far that night, but she didn’t have to hurry. She had money in the bank, a good truck, and a destination. That was enough to keep her for a few months until she decided what she wanted to do with her life.

According to Rusty, she should walk down the lane to the cattle guard with the ranch sign above it. That’s where the Malloy Ranch stopped. From there on to the road, the land belonged to Lonesome Canyon. She was to pick a direction at that point and keep following the fence line until she reached the canyon wall, then circle back around.

The crisp winter air cooled her lungs as well as her cheeks. She shivered when the north wind picked up and the snow invited sleet into the winter mix that Saturday afternoon. It was a foolhardy mission on a day like this, but she’d done PT in far worse, from snow that was knee-deep in Michigan one winter to the blistering heat on the base in Afghanistan. Besides, another minute in that house would have her climbing the walls. A big argument on the first day would make the other women dig their boots in to show her that she couldn’t run them off. She took a butterscotch hard candy from her pocket, removed the wrapper, and popped it into her mouth.

She smiled when the ringtone on her phone said her best friend, Haley, was calling. She had trouble fishing it out of the cargo pocket on her pants without removing her gloves, but she managed to answer on the fourth ring.

“Hey,” she said.

“Is it over? I’m dying to know about your sisters. Tell me about the funeral. Did you see your father?” Haley, her friend since they were in the nursery together in the little church on the outskirts of Galveston, finally stopped to catch a breath.

“Yes, it’s over and yes, I saw him. It was like looking at a stranger. I can’t tell you much about Ezra’s other two daughters other than the youngest one seems bound and determined to stick out the whole year. The place is even more desolate than the pictures we saw on the Internet and I’m not sure I can handle it for a year, Haley. It’s colder than a witch’s tit in this place. I’m out for a walk around the property to see if I even want to unpack. I did bring Mama’s ashes, though.”