The Best Little Joeville

“Is that Josh’s place?” Even from a distance it appeared warm and cozy, nestled among pines and bare-branched aspens that wound their way further up the foothills of the MoJoes, the majestic pair of mountains that overlooked Joeville, the area Shane’s great grandfather, Joe Malone, had laid claim to over a hundred years ago. For miles below there was level land and Jenny could already imagine fields of tall golden wheat waving in the wind as large combines cut a wide swath.

“Yep. It’s all Josh’s now. Used to be my great-grandparent’s place when they first moved west. Then Granddad built the ranch and this has been abandoned ever since. When Dad tripled our living quarters and added all the outbuildings, it didn’t look like anyone would ever live up here again.”

“I think it’s perfectly charming. I can see why Josh is so excited.”

“Yeah, well, wish we could say the same for Dad. He still holds fast to the old ways—that pure ranchers don’t farm. And now that Josh has taken up flying so he can crop dust when the time comes—” Shane repositioned his wide-brimmed bat and chuckled “—well, let’s just say there’s a little tension between Josh and Dad.”

Jenny laughed. “You’re a fine one to criticize Max for being set in his ways. When was the last time you changed?”

Shane sailed but his expression grew more serious. “What about you?”

Jenny stopped laughing. “What do you mean ‘What about me?’”

“Well, for example, why don’t you want to talk to Buck...learn more about those herbs you’re so interested in?”

She rolled her eyes. “Here we go again. Indians! Why do we always end up talking about Indians?”

His smile disappeared, his brown eyes turning nearly black. “Buck is one person, not a whole race. Besides, he’s like family to me. He’s a good and wise man who knows much about the things of the earth, who could teach—”

“Look, Shane—” She started to argue her point, but thought better of it. What difference did it make if he understood her attitude? She wasn’t going to change it, and that was that. “I promised Billy I’d help him build a snowman. Maybe we should head back.” She turned her horse away from him and avoided his eyes. She knew what she would see and feeling guilty was not on her agenda today.

Silently he turned and followed, eventually riding alongside her the rest of the way. The beauty she had witnessed on the way out was lost on her now, an inner turmoil dogging her every thought. She didn’t want to spar with Shane, but she could never share his love of Indians, either. Why couldn’t he try to understand and just let it go?

Three

As Hannah had promised, Wednesday was a busy day in the kitchen. In between serving the usual three meals, Jenny and Hannah prepared for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving dinner.

After supper Jenny covered her cranberry gelatin mold and found the last available space in the refrigerator, while Hannah wrestled with the thirty-pound turkey, finding another feather to pluck.

“There. Think I got ’em all. Ya sure we cain’t stuff it tonight? I always have, ya know.” Hannah reached for the large box of foil.

“I know a lot of people do, but it’s much safer to wait till just before we put it in the oven.” Jenny eyed the old woman who had had her way in this room for over forty years, surprised she was even considering a change.

“Well then...ya’ve proved ya know what yer doin’ since the first day ya set foot in here, Jenny Moon. So guess we jes wait till t’morrow.” She wrapped the big bird and shoved the box of foil in Jenny’s direction for the dressing.

Jenny smiled, enjoying the compliment Hannah had just paid her.

“So ya gonna stay here this time, young one? I sure did miss yer help. These old legs cain’t take much more of these long days.”

The casual conversation ended as subtly as a brick through the window. Hannah was now working her agenda. Jenny knew it would come sooner or later, but was surprised how soon. She remembered Max’s open invitation the last time she’d been here. There was no doubt she would be a welcome addition to the ranch. The work was actually easier and a lot less stressful than her catering job back home. And here she would be with Savannah and all the others she had come to care for. So why the hesitation? Only one word popped into her thoughts.

Shane.

Could she be around him for long and not get involved? Was she ready to trust him? Or any man, as far as that goes? A fling was one thing, but a commitment was quite another. Her mother had taught her well: men could not be trusted. In a flash she pictured Ryder with Savannah and the obvious love they shared Maybe, just maybe, some men were different....

“Whatcha daydreamin’ ’bout, girl? Didn’t ya hear my question?”

“Hannah, you don’t need me. Savannah’s a big heip and—”

“And she’s gonna have a youngin soon...who has ta come first, a course. Whatever time or energy she’s got left over will be spent changin’ beds and vacuumin’ for me. M‘back cain’t handle them jobs anymore. Besides, she loves doin’ Max’s paperwork in his clinic out back. That alone takes her hours nearly every day.” She picked up the bundled bird and headed for the extra refrigerator on the side porch.

Jenny grabbed the dressing and beat her to the door, opening it wide for Hannah to pass. When she did, she shot Jenny a what’s-holding-you-back kind of glance, laced heavily with a dose of guilt for even resisting the idea.

They found room for the food in the old refrigerator and rushed in from the unheated porch. Jenny hugged herself and tried avoiding Hannah’s glare, but soon the big woman stood squarely in front of her and folded her arms across her heavy chest.

“Well?”

Jenny took her time looking up, knowing full well the expression she would find on Hannah’s face. This was a woman used to getting her way. Finally Jenny met the old woman’s determined stare. “I’ll give it some serious thought, okay?” She hadn’t meant for annoyance to seep into her tone, but she knew it had.

“Well, maybe you’d think better by yerself.” Hannah untied her apron and hung it on the hook near the door. “Mind cleaning up? I’m all tuckered out.”

“No...not at all. Go on and rest.”

Hannah waved without turning back. “Thanks, girl. See ya in the mornin’.”

Except for wiping the counters and putting a few utensils in the dishwasher, there was little left to do. Jenny moved around quickly, eager to check on Savannah and Ryder’s progress with the outside decorations—anything to keep from mulling over Hannah’s proposition. It was way too soon for such a decision. A nagging inner voice said she was wrong, but she ignored it.

With the last counter wiped clean, Jenny hung up her apron and pushed through the swinging door to the dining room. The French doors at the far side leading to the living room were open wide, showcasing a roaring fire behind the large stone hearth, its warm glow illuminating the spacious yet cozy area. Jenny crossed to it and held her hands to the flames, her gaze fixed on the areas of blue dancing along the massive pile of logs. When her eyes began to sting, she stepped backward and glanced out the bay window to her left. An afghan lay atop a pile of seat cushions, inviting her closer. She walked over and settled in one corner, tucked her legs under her and pulled the cover over her lap to ward off the chill from the small frosty-cornered panes in front of her.

Beyond the window she watched the trio hanging lights on the most perfect evergreen she had ever seen. Ryder’s truck lights beamed on the lower half of the tree. Savannah sat on the front bumper and untangled long strands of multicolored lights, handing them gingerly to Ryder who stood on a tall ladder next to her. Jenny’s gaze drifted to the opposite side of the tree where Shane worked in the shadows. His hands were slow and deliberate as he tucked each light into snowy branches. Always his movements seemed evenly paced, unrushed and with a purpose. To look at him, it would seem he didn’t have a tense muscle in his body. There was a grace and calm about him she envied. Her life had always been a series of deadlines, forever rushed, no time for reflection.

The thought jarred her and she pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them tight. Had she intentionally pushed herself from one task to the next, intentionally leaving no time to analyze her motives, her anxieties, her fears? Fears? Where did that word come from? Even the thought of it made her shudder. Had she ever acknowledged that she was afraid of anything? Not that she could recall.

She shook her head as if it would vanquish the idea, then refocused on Shane’s face, wishing he was closer, that she could see his eyes.

No! It was too soon to think of this man. She closed her eyes to block out his image and immediately her mother came to mind. Poor Mom. All that anger and hate. She opened her eyes and looked to the heavens, hoping that was where Mom was, that she had found some peace at last, that somehow—

“I think my mama lives on that one over there.” Jenny turned with a start. Billy stood behind her, his finger pointing to an area in the north. She expelled a long breath and smiled at him, then followed the direction of his arm, trying to spot his special star.

“Sometimes when I’m watching it, it looks like it’s winking at me.” He knelt on the cushion next to her and pressed his nose to the glass. After a moment he leaned back on his heels and looked at Jenny.

“I’m sorry about your mama, Jenny. Savannah told me.”

Jenny reached out for him and tugged him closer, sharing the afghan with him. He snuggled easily under her arm and she could feel the warmth of his young body spread through her.

“Mama told me to picture her playing with the angels and that sometimes she’d even put on some wings. Do you ever think of your mama like that?”

Jenny rested her chin on his silky blond hair and thought about his simple question. No, she hadn’t. She never thought of her mother playing or smiling or laughing. The world may have frowned on Maddy’s chosen profession, but at least Billy’s mother seemed happy. “Our mamas were very different people, Billy,” she said finally.

He turned his face up to Jenny, his eyes round with curiosity. “How?”

Jenny sighed and struggled to simplify her answer. “My mama was unhappy, Billy.”

“Why?”

She stared out the window, no longer seeing anyone. She wasn’t in the mood to answer that question, but then she never was. Billy was staring at her, waiting, his eyes filled with concern. She swallowed hard, then began. “M-my father left us before I was born.”

“So did mine,” he said, a frown creasing his forehead. “But mama always seemed happy. She said we were so lucky to have each other.”