More to Texas than Cowboys. Roz Fox Denny

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СКАЧАТЬ ease a growing tension, Greer glanced back at her ranch and sighed. Outside, the house looked no different, but somehow felt lonelier.

      “When’s our furniture going to get here, Mama?” Shelby skipped alongside Greer as they again climbed the steps to the wraparound porch.

      “The company estimated late afternoon, honeybun. We have time to get a lot of work done before they show up with our things.”

      “Dontcha think this is the perfect spot to hang the porch swing the Sandersons gave us? It’s in the Blazer. We can hang it now, can’t we?”

      “That’s a great idea, Shelby. It’ll put our mark on this place and make it feel homey. I’ll fetch the swing. See if you can locate that package of screws Miranda brought. Then I’ll grab the ladder I saw when we toured the bunkhouse.”

      The task of hanging the swing proved to be anything but easy. Greer had worked up a sweat by the time she got the last screw into the knotty pine planking someone had installed as a porch ceiling. But, once she’d succeeded in wrestling the slatted swing onto its chain hangers, the effect was wonderfully inviting. She and Shelby ran into the yard to admire their handiwork, all the while grinning at each other.

      “I get to try it out first,” Shelby shouted. She charged up the steps, then suddenly stopped short to stare into the distance at the horse and rider, once again visible by the river. “I sure do wish Mr. Kelley would ride up here to see us. That’s a pretty horse he has. Do you think he’d give me a ride?”

      “Shelby, you need to call him Father Kelley, not mister.”

      “He’s not my father.” The girl pouted a little.

      “No. The title Father is like saying Doctor. It shows respect.”

      “Does it mean I can’t ask to ride his horse?”

      Greer reluctantly looked over at Noah Kelley. He’d dismounted and was letting the animal drink from a shallow spot. “It’s not as if he’s a friend. Even if he rides out our way, I’d rather you didn’t ask him for favors. Anyway, remember the sooner we make progress getting our home livable, the quicker we’ll bring in our horses. How about if I let you decide what room we start cleaning next?”

      “Cleaning’s no fun,” Shelby grumbled. “Grandma said before she left that we need to wash all the windows. Especially the ones in the kitchen so that when she brings the curtains tomorrow we can hang them.”

      “Are you sure you want to wash windows? I’m going to put white vinegar in the water to cut through the grime built up on the glass. I know you hate the way vinegar smells.”

      Shelby wrinkled her nose. Trooper that she was, she reached for the second bucket.

      “Let’s do the inside first, Shel. Then I’ll change the water and we can start outside. I’ll tackle the taller windows that require a ladder. You wash whatever you can reach from the porch.”

      “Okay.” Shelby ripped open a pack of sponges and plopped a green one in her bucket and a pink one in her mother’s. “Grandma’s nice,” she remarked out of the blue, and followed with a question Greer had been dreading. “I don’t understand why Grandpa couldn’t come with her. Is he mean?”

      Greer dropped her wet sponge, then hurriedly bent to retrieve it. “I wouldn’t call him mean. Do you remember Mr. Greenfield the man who rented that cabin next to ours at Whippoorwill Ranch every summer? The artist?”

      Shelby nodded. “Yeah, he was real grumpy.”

      Using a dry rag, Greer carefully polished the window she’d finished washing. “He did tend to growl, and he wasn’t a very good neighbor. Cal said the man was estranged from his son. They’d argued. Well—” she took a deep breath “—a long time ago, before you were born, my dad got really upset with me. You know how I tell you we have to talk out our differences and not go to bed mad because it only gets harder to make up? My dad and I didn’t talk. We’ve let ten years worth of nights go by without making up. That’s why he didn’t come today. I don’t want you to think the way he acts has anything to do with you, Shel. It doesn’t.”

      “If my teacher was around, she would’ve sat you guys down and made you talk. She’d say, get over it! ’Cause that’s what she did when kids argued at recess.”

      Smiling, Greer moved to a new window. “That works with kids. Dad and I weren’t kids. Adults can be stubborn and pig-headed a lot longer.”

      “I wish one of you would just say you’re sorry, so then maybe I could ask Grandma if I can ride to church on Sunday with her and Grandpa.” Shelby shoved her bucket over and started on the window in the kitchen door.

      Greer’s fingers stilled, then tightened on the sponge, and she scrubbed so hard she was in danger of breaking the pane of glass. Explaining this was going to be much more difficult than she’d ever imagined. Yes, Shelby had gone to church with Luke Sanderson, but their views were liberal. St. Mark’s was ultraconservative. Coming here was probably a bad plan. What had she been thinking?

      “Shelby, hon, chores go by faster with music. Will you run and get the portable CD player from the Blazer? And bring the CD case from under the front seat.” Greer knew that would redirect her daughter. There were few things Shelby loved as much as listening to music.

      Over the next hour or so, they sang along with the CDs and managed to finish the inside windows. Greer filled the buckets with fresh water. She placed Shelby’s under the living room window and carried hers around the corner, calling, “I’ll set up the ladder and do the side windows. Wow, it looks like all but the front one will be too high for you. So, when you finish it, hon, empty your bucket and take a break. You’ve worked hard today. I’m proud of you.”

      Reacting to the compliment, Shelby gave her mom a hug before dancing away.

      Sparkling windows and a gently swaying swing made a huge difference to the appearance of the house, Greer thought as she opened the ladder and climbed up with the bucket. She’d dried the last pane and had closed the ladder to carry it around front when she heard the clippity-clop of an approaching horse. Afraid she knew who to expect as she rounded the house, Greer saw something she didn’t expect. Her daughter stood on a wobbly porch railing, stretched full length, scrubbing a window too far out of reach.

      Greer opened her mouth to shout. She might even have called out to Shelby, but her warning came too late. There was a loud crack as the rail separated from the house. Greer’s yelp of distress mingled with Shelby’s scream of fear as the girl fell to the ground below, tangled in wood spindles and broken boards.

      Dropping the ladder, stumbling over it, Greer lost precious seconds in her attempt to reach Shelby. The girl’s sobs sent fear hammering through Greer’s heart. “Honey, lie still. Let me move the boards and see how badly you’re hurt.” She discovered that Shelby had somehow ended up beneath the four-by-four top rail. Greer was in such a state, it took extra moments before she realized a second, larger pair of hands had brushed hers aside and were even now removing the heaviest debris.

      “Oh, Father Kelley, it’s you!” Wild-eyed, Greer stared blankly up. Just as fast, she sank to her knees and attempted to drag her sobbing child into her arms.

      “Take it easy, Greer. She’s suffered a nasty fracture of her left forearm.”

      The minute he made the observation, Greer’s eyes were drawn to a СКАЧАТЬ