Love Inspired August 2014 – Bundle 1 of 2 (14 page)

Liv put a reassuring hand on Abigail’s arm. “We will. And, Abigail, honestly? I love
that shade of pink for August. I don’t think it’s too warm at all. It matches the
coneflowers in my mother’s garden.”

Abigail’s face lit up. “Does it, now?”

“Yes. And if it works in Mother Nature, why not in the nail salon?”

“You’re absolutely right, Olivia! I’ll leave it for the day. There’s always a new
shade tomorrow, right?”

“Absolutely.”

The mayor moved off, not bothering with pleasantries like simple goodbyes. Abigail
hurried back upstairs, pleased that her polish could stay, although it wouldn’t surprise
Liv to see the older woman come down later with a new shade, regardless. Abigail’s
frequently changing nails were the talk of the town and she liked it that way.

When Liv turned toward Robin, a hint of sadness struck her. “Robin. You okay?”

“Fine.” She frowned, then shrugged. “It’s just they’ve got very little to go on and
they’re more than willing to assume Lilibeth must be the culprit based on a note that
might be fraudulent. I liked it better when I thought everyone in town was sweet and
nice and sang ‘Kumbaya’ at campfires.”

Robin’s lament painted an image that made Livvie laugh. “Welcome to small towns. And
I agree, I think they’re wrong and I hope they don’t come up with some kind of harebrained
crusade to catch Lilibeth, because the only thing that girl is guilty of is being
young and boy-crazy. There isn’t a criminal bone in her body and I’d stake my researcher’s
credentials on it. And on that note.” She grabbed a cold bottle of iced tea and pressed
it against her cheeks before twisting the cap off. “I’m going to pretend it’s ten
degrees cooler here and get to work.”

“I’ll join you.”

By the time they closed things up a couple of hours later, Liv was even more convinced
that Lilibeth wasn’t involved in anything more sinister than boy-watching and big
hair. And if the committee thought otherwise?

They would be proven wrong.

Chapter Twelve

“G
randpa? Wanna take a ride with me?” Liv proposed the idea early the next morning,
but purposely hadn’t run it by Grandma first. Grandma’s nerves would likely prompt
her to say a quick no. Liv wanted a chance for Grandpa to say yes. “I’m going out
to a friend’s ranch to take care of some horses and it’s a beautiful day.”

“You got some horses?” Tom perked up and glanced around the living room as if expecting
a stampede. “Where are they?”

“My friend Jack has some horses,” she explained patiently. “He lives on a ranch outside
of town and I told him I’d come and work with the horses this morning. Wanna come
along?”

“Liv, I don’t know.” Grandma moved into the room quickly, her face creased in worry.
“If you’re busy, he could wander off. Get lost. And those ranches are a ways out with
lots of brush country.”

“I like horses.” Grandpa planted his two feet firmly on the ground and stood. “Always
did. Yes, I want to go. Trudy, where’s my hat?”

“Here, but I don’t think this is a good idea,” she protested. She wrung one hand with
the other. “How about if I come, too?”

“I don’t need watchin’, old woman.”

“Well, you’re wrong about that, you old coot,” Trudy retorted, but she gave him a
good-natured peck on the cheek. “I might just like seeing these horses, too, did you
think of that?”

Grandpa huffed toward the car, muttering a mile a minute, and when he was far enough
off, Grandma turned to Liv. “I know you mean well, honey—”

“But you’re worried I might lose Grandpa or set him up for disappointment.”

“Well, I heard about his little jaunt last week,” Grandma explained as she grabbed
a thin, cotton sweater in case it got cold. The morning temps were in the seventies
with no cold front in sight, but Liv understood Grandma’s defenses. Be prepared and
do what proved necessary. Those two credos had done well for the older woman so far.
“And while that turned out okay, he’s a handful sometimes, Liv. He’s usually nice
and mild-mannered, but every now and again he gets plain mad and mean-tempered. And
that’s what worries me, because I can’t say when it might happen.”

“Then we double-team him,” Liv decided. “We do the ‘shift.’”

Her grandmother drew a blank at the baseball term.

“It means we shift strategies to make sure we’re one step ahead of him, working together.”

“That could work,” Trudy declared. She climbed into the backseat and rode quietly
until they got to the Double M. When Liv turned down the long, winding lane that led
to the homestead area, she saw her grandfather’s eyes widen and her grandmother’s
hands clasp. “Liv, this is lovely. Kind of rustic and country-and-western, and oh,
my stars, Liv! Do you see those cattle coming this way?”

“I do.”

“Tom?”

“I’m not blind, Mother, just a little daft as the years go on. They’re quite a sight,
aren’t they? And real, live cowboys to boot.”

“Beautiful.” Trudy climbed out when Liv parked the car. She reached to help Grandpa
out, but he’d already undone his seat belt and opened the door. He stepped out, sure-footed,
as if there wasn’t a thing wrong with him, his gaze upturned, watching the cattle
drive, framed by two bushy eyebrows raised in appreciation.

“They’ll be bringin’ them down to the far corral,” a voice said from behind them.

Liv turned and saw Rusty leaning on a fence rail. “They decided to show them down
here?”

“Easier to load ’em here.” Rusty raised his gaze to the upper lands and then shrugged
away from the split-rail fencing. “I’m Rusty, a friend of the family.”

“Whose family?” Trudy turned his way and held out her hand. “I’m Liv’s grandmother
and this is her grandpa. We’ve just moved into town.”

“I heard tell, ma’am, and I also have it on good authority that you make one of the
meanest apple pies around. And that we need to get in real apples from the Great Lakes
to have things taste right.”

Grandma blushed, hearing her words come back to her.

Grandpa turned, sent Rusty a grin and a nod, but then swung back to watch the spectacle
of cattle, waving en masse, a fluid curve of movement, working their way down the
dry slope. “They kick up a lot of dust, don’t they?”

Rusty smiled at Grandma to show he was teasing, then nudged his hat back while he
moved to Grandpa’s side. “This time of year they do. And when the wet comes barrelin’
down from up north, it’s greasy slick to bring them up and down. But Jack and Mick,
they’ve been doin’ this awhile. They’re good.”

“Jack?” Grandma moved closer to Liv and kept her voice low. “Isn’t that the name of
the young man you went with before? The young man you were engaged to in college?”

“Yes.”

“Well.” Grandma pondered the sight and Liv’s admission, then turned toward the corral
behind them. “You said there were horses?”

“A fair number, but the ones we’re caring for are on this side of the frontmost barn.”
Liv started to lead the way, then turned back to call Grandpa’s attention. His face
was outturned, watching the progression of horse and cattle. Rusty gave her a smile
and a nod, a look that said he understood what couldn’t be said, and he’d watch after
Grandpa while they moved off.

A gentle heart and a keen mind, even well into his nineties, the old rancher had seen
a lot of Jasper Gulch history. If she really wanted to know things about Jasper Gulch,
she should sit down with Rusty Zidek and get it straight from the old gentleman’s
mouth. And better sooner than later in light of his age. She couldn’t take his testimony
as absolute fact without some corroboration, but if he steered her in the right direction,
he’d make finishing her job in Jasper Gulch easier. And regardless of what decision
she gave the university, she was determined to get the town history done before the
end of the year. If she took the teaching position, she’d travel back on weekends
as weather allowed, and finish her report that way. It wasn’t an ideal plan, but it
wasn’t all that bad either, because weekends in Jasper Gulch meant seeing Jack...

And that thought made her smile like a schoolgirl, so when she called Dilly’s name
a little too loud, the healing horse jumped, startled.

“Is he wild?” Grandma asked, stepping back. “Liv, you didn’t tell me he was wild,
for pity’s sake!”

“He’s not,” Liv whispered. She moved closer, tapped softly on the rail and waited
patiently as the buckskin eyed her. “Come on, old boy, I didn’t mean to startle you,
but you’ve got to get used to a bit of noise now and again, don’t you? But there now,
that’s enough for the moment, come over here and show Grandma what a sweet thing you
are.”

The buckskin hesitated, eyes wide, then peeked around Liv, watching Grandma. He must
have decided the older woman wasn’t any too dangerous because he padded forward, head
down, waiting for a scratch behind the ears.

“Good boy.” Liv reached out and gave him a good scratching where he liked it most,
along the back of his neck to the left of the mane. “You’re such a love, Dilly.”

“He’s kind of mangy looking, isn’t he?” Trudy moved closer. Her expression said she’d
love to compliment the big horse but honesty prevailed. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Neglected, abused, uncared for.” When Grandma’s mouth dropped open, Liv faced her
and nodded. “We saw him at auction. Another rancher was going to rescue him, but he
reminded me of the old horse I rode here when I was young, so Jack and I brought him
home.”

“Home.”

Liv heard more in the single word than her grandmother should know, but Trudy Mason
had a lot of experience in her seven decades. “Here, I mean.” Liv waved around the
ranch as she moved to the barn to get the horse feed. “To the Double M.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Her grandmother’s tone said she read the situation with solid accuracy,
and that made Liv realize Grandma wasn’t alone, most likely. It was almost as if the
town had planned this centennial celebration with one goal in mind, to bring her and
Jack back together.

“You know, I’ve watched many a thing go on in my life,” Grandma whispered as Liv brought
food to Dilly in the near paddock. “The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh and things
that bore no reason I could see. But sometimes, honey, the path the Lord gives us
is so plain and simple as to be too easy. And there’s many a person who misses it
because of that. Thinking, questioning, weighing things up. Sometimes we have to go
with our gut, with our heart.”

“You’re too smart, Grandma.”

“Not by half, but I’m old enough and experienced enough to know if God gives us a
second chance in this life, he expects us to grab hold and take it. And I think that’s
what’s going on with you and your Jack.”

“He’s not my Jack, Grandma.” Liv let a note of caution creep into her tone, all the
while wishing he
was
her Jack, and that made her feel foolish.

“I expect you’re wrong about that,” Grandma continued, her voice soft. “But either
way, it’s good to take the reins God gives us and ride with them. I’m all right with
the road less traveled for a time, but there’s a reason folks opt for a well-trod
path in life. Because it’s the best way to travel.”

Wise words from a smart woman.

The noise of the heifer drive grew behind them. Shouts of encouragement, yips of dog
and the bawling of first-time pregnant cattle meant the chosen cows were nearing their
destination.

“Livvie! Come see over here!” Brian’s voice hailed her from the foreside of the adjacent
barn.

“You won’t believe it!” Maggie’s excitement added to the moment, her glee-filled voice
spiking upward.

Liv gave Dilly another long stroke of her hand, then walked around the far edge of
the next barn. When she made the turn to the left, she laughed and dropped straight
to her knees. “Brian! Maggie! It’s a puppy!”

“Yes!” Maggie screeched the word, then clapped two sturdy hands over her mouth when
Carrie’s look reprimanded her silently. “I forgot to be quiet again, Mommy! I’m sorry!”

“Try harder,” Carrie advised.

Brian braced two confident arms around the funny pup and lifted him into Liv’s lap.
“Isn’t he the most beautiful thing ever, Liv?”

He wasn’t. From the tip of his black nose to the end of his mottled tail, the little
heeler looked like a scrambled mismatch of dog colors and shapes, but the bright look
in his eyes and the quick-wagging tail won her heart, regardless. “Oh, he is, Brian.
What’s his name?”

“Blue.”

“Well, of course.” Blue was the perfect name for this little fellow, a dog destined
to learn the ropes of rustling cattle and chasing frogs. “When did you get him?”

“A few days ago,” Maggie told her. She crept forward, trying to follow her big brother’s
example of calm and quiet, but those adjectives seemed alien to the girl’s vibrant
personality. “Isn’t he so sweet?”

He was, Liv decided. She sat in the dirt, the little pup looking for a comfortable
position to snug himself in, reminding her of too much. Long days with Jack and his
parents, working the ranch. Training horses, training dogs, mixing up cakes and cookies
with Mary Beth when chores were done.

And Tank, her big, blond Labrador retriever, a trusty friend gone while she lived
a couple of hours away, rarely visiting.

The scent of dog, dust and dreams overwhelmed her. This felt like home. This had been
her destiny all along. To be here, beneath the broad, blue Montana sky, surrounded
by mountains and wonderful people, one with the land. Why had she ever thought otherwise?

“Liv? You okay?” Brian bent and peered up at her. Worry creased his brow. “Do you
want me to take him?”

“No, no. He’s fine. I’m just being silly because he reminds me of when I used to hold
my old dog.”

“You had a dog?” Maggie crept in alongside and reached out a hand to the motley pup.
“What was his name?”

“Tank.”

“That’s a funny name!” Chagrined, Maggie slapped her hand over her mouth, sent a guilty-as-charged
look to her mother, then continued in a softer tone. “Why did you name him Tank?”

“He was the biggest puppy of the litter, with the biggest appetite of all, and when
he moved, he moved slow.”

“Like a tank,” Brian mused.

“Exactly.” Liv rewarded him with a watery smile. “And as he got bigger, he grew into
his name. Big. Broad. Busy. A tank, through and through.”

“You miss him.”

She hadn’t realized how much until Brian tucked the little pup into her lap. She’d
accepted Tank’s passing as one more regret, coming home, but why hadn’t she come back
sooner? Hung out with the aging dog, the friend of her youth? Was she that selfish?
That self-focused?

Shame coursed through her, but Grandma bent alongside to pet the tiny dog. “I’ve always
been shy of pets,” she told Brian. When he looked confused, she lifted both shoulders
in a matter-of-fact motion. “They don’t live as long as folks do, and I’ve always
been a little afraid of losing things.”

The boy’s eyes widened.

“But now I look back at my life, and I wish I hadn’t been afraid,” Grandma continued.
“Think of all the puppies I might have raised. The dogs I might have loved. The walks
I missed because I was too afraid to get attached.”

“Grandma, I—”

Grandma waved off Liv’s commiseration as she straightened. “Ach, it is what it is,
Liv, plain and simple, but if I had it to do over again?” She smiled down at Brian
and laid her aging hand atop his head. “I’d have had me some cute pups like this.
Probably more than one because a dog’s love is a beautiful thing.”

The clip-clop of a horse drew their attention. Jack and Roy-O appeared. Jack’s expression
said the sight of them made him happy. Right until he spotted Liv’s face. “Liv, you
okay? Hey. What’s wrong?” He was off the horse and by her side in a flash. Concern
painted his dirt-streaked features, and the sight of him, dust-covered and worried
about her, nearly did her in.

“I’m fine, I just got all choked up about the puppy and Tank and remembering. Silly
girl stuff.”