Montana Hearts

“Come on in. Beth’s fixing some iced tea. I wanted you to meet my kids.”

He held the screen door open for her. As she passed him, she suddenly realized how tall Kurt was. He stood well over six feet. At five foot four, she barely came up to his chin.

She stepped inside and caught the faint scent of lemony furniture polish.

The Western decor was immediately obvious, maple furniture with floral print upholstery. A large fireplace made of river rocks bisected one wall, a variety of riding trophies displayed on the oak mantel. The opposite wall contained family photographs, grandparents and probably great-grandparents in old black-and-white shots, the history of the Rocking R Ranch down through the decades. In the center of the collage stood Kurt and his beautiful blonde bride, Zoe.

With a lump in her throat, Sarah quickly looked away. Guilt burrowed like a garden gopher into her midsection, as though she were responsible for stealing Zoe’s life. Not just exercising her heart.

Sarah struggled to regain her composure.

Kurt introduced his son, Toby.

She extended her hand to the boy, the resemblance to his father striking. “I guess some of those trophies are yours.”

“Yep.” Dressed like his father in jeans and a work shirt, he shook her hand firmly. “Calf roping for ten and under.”

“Congratulations.” She felt overdressed wearing slacks and a fussy cotton blouse when the uniform of the day seemed to favor jeans.

“Have a seat, Ms. Barkley.” When she sat down on the chintz-covered couch, Kurt said, “How is it you happen to be in Sweet Grass Valley?”

“I’m on vacation, taking some time off to see the countryside.” She wondered what he would say if she told him the truth. How she had ferreted out the death of his wife. And why.

Sitting in the adjacent armchair, Kurt appeared to consider her answer. “Did you lose you job or quit?”

She smiled, realizing he thought she was an employee of her company. “A friend is filling in for me. I do have to be back in Seattle by September first, which means I can stay here through the rest of July and most of August.” That was the date of her next doctor’s appointment. In the meantime, she took a whole phalanx of pills to keep her body from rejecting her new heart.

Nodding, he glanced at Toby, who had plopped down on a colorful plaid pillow on the raised hearth of the fireplace. “Son, go find out what’s taking Beth so long with the tea. And have her put some of Nana’s cookies on a plate for our guest.”

“’Kay.” He hopped to his feet. “But she’ll probably bite my head off.”

“Just don’t start anything.”

When Toby left the room, Sarah said, “He’s a good-looking boy.”

A flash of pride flared in Kurt’s eyes and he smiled. “Smart like his mother.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the boy was out of sight. “When I got back from town earlier, my mother-in-law was in quite a state. She and Beth don’t get along well. Today things were so bad, Grace grounded Beth for a week, and I had to agree. I’m guessing it’s part women’s troubles and part that Grace still misses my wife, Zoe. She was Grace’s only child.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” She was sorry, even while she felt guilty that Kurt’s loss had been her gain.

“It hasn’t been easy for any of us,” he admitted. “I thought the best thing for Grace was to take some time off. That’s why I called you.”

“I understand.”

Beth appeared from the kitchen carrying a cherrywood tray with a pitcher of tea and two glasses. A slender, pre-pubescent girl, she had her long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail and wore a tank top and jeans.

Toby strolled in behind her, a glass of cola in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other.

Her expression sullen, Beth set the tray on the coffee table. Her eyes appeared puffy as though she’d been crying. “You want anything else?”

“I’d like you to meet Ms. Barkley. My daughter, Beth.”

“Hello, Beth. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, right.” She turned to her father. “Can I go now?”

Kurt glared at his daughter. “You can stay right here and be polite for a change. I’m talking to Ms. Barkley about being our housekeeper for the rest of the summer.”

Beth’s eyes widened. “What about Nana?”

“You know Nana Grace isn’t as strong as she used to be,” Kurt said. “She tires easily and that makes her cranky, I know. That’s been hard on both you kids.” He gave his children a weary smile. “Since your mother’s been gone, I guess I’ve been cranky, too, and not a whole lot of fun to be around.”

“It’s okay, Dad,” Beth said. “Toby and me, we understand you miss Mom, too.”

“Yeah, I do. And so does Nana Grace. So I thought we ought to give her a break. If Ms. Barkley agrees to work for us, she could do the cooking and cleaning and chauffeur you kids for a few weeks, till school starts again. Of course you’d still have to help out with chores. She wouldn’t be your slave. More like a new member of the family.”

Toby shrugged, and Beth said, “I don’t need a babysitter, Dad. Or a prison warden! I mean, I can cook ’n stuff. We don’t need anybody else.”

“Wait!” Toby cried. “You can’t even fry an egg, dummy. We’d all starve. Or be poisoned! Grrrggh…” Making an inarticulate croaking sound, he stuck a finger in his mouth and flipped onto his back, his legs up in the air like a dying bug. “I’m dead! My sister—”

“Cut it out, son,” Kurt said, trying valiantly to hold back a smile.

Beth stuck out her tongue at her brother. “You’re such a jerk.”

Suppressing her own smile, Sarah considered all the joy she’d missed by being an only child. Perhaps her dream of having a sister to play with would, in reality, have turned into a nightmare.

Kurt crossed to the fireplace and helped Toby to his feet. “Get outta here, son. You, too, Beth. Go outside and play or something. And no more bickering!”

Shrugging out of his father’s grasp, Toby headed up the stairs to the second floor.

“You never listen to me, Dad!” Beth’s voice rose in pitch to a shriek, the volume increasing with each syllable until the entire house shuddered with her distress.

“I don’t want anybody else around. I want my mom back!”

Like a summer storm, a volley of tears exploded. She whirled and raced up the stairs, trying to escape herself. Escape emotions she couldn’t control.

Tears of empathy jammed together in Sarah’s throat. Drawing a breath made her chest ache, and she pressed her palm against the pain. Against the scar that hid there.

Beth needed so much help dealing with the loss of her mother. Dealing with the changes in her own pre-adolescent body and emotions. Needed so much love.

Who could give her that love?

From whom could she accept that love?

Standing at the foot of the stairs, his legs wide apart as though poised for battle, Kurt speared his fingers through his hair. His expressive features twisted into a mask of anger and confusion, his lips a straight line, his brows lowered to shadow his eyes.

“That went well,” he muttered. His fingers rhythmically flexed and unflexed.

“I’m sorry.” For him and for his loss. For his troubled child. Despite his anger, Sarah didn’t doubt for a moment that he loved his daughter. And his son. No one could show that depth of emotion without caring deeply for them.