A Family For Rose

“You haven’t seen the chow we normally eat around here.”

“Oh, I got a pretty good taste of it last night,” Shannon said, ladling out the soup while Billy washed at the sink. She filled three bowls and set the remainder on the stove for when her father got home.

“You probably got used to eating pretty fancy while you were living in Nashville,” Billy commented, dropping into the same chair he’d used at supper the night before. Rose thundered down the stairs and claimed her own seat, eying the food expectantly.

“We were pretty spoiled,” Shannon admitted as she joined them at the table, passing the platter of sandwiches. “Rose especially loved our cook, didn’t you, Rose?”

Rose shook her head vehemently and made a face. “She made me eat yucky things.”

Shannon laughed. “Rose doesn’t like fancy food.”

“Neither do I,” Billy confided to Rose. “Give me plain and simple any day.”

“Plain and simple’s all they shell out at Willard’s, so the both of you should be very happy,” Shannon said. “Napkin in your lap, Rose.”

“It’s not a napkin, it’s a paper towel, Momma.”

“Pretend it’s fine linen and remember your manners, young lady.”

Rose heaved an exaggerated sigh as she put the paper towel in her lap. “Are you always going to have a plate in your head?” she asked Billy.

“Rose!” Shannon chastised her.

“Yup,” Billy said. “The docs told me the plate was permanent. I asked if they could throw in a fork, knife and spoon but they couldn’t fit ’em in there.”

Rose giggled until Shannon caught her eye. “How long were you in the military, Billy?”

“Eight years. After four tours of duty I thought my life was pretty much over when I was wounded. That little piece of land and the house I’m building beside the Bear Paw is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I owe a lot to your father for making that possible.”

Shannon felt a twinge of resentment. It was noble of Billy to have served his country, and terrible that he’d been so horribly wounded in action, but he’d stolen her dream. That was her little house he was building in her special spot. Billy and her father had stolen her dream and it was hard not to resent them both for slamming the door on the future she’d planned for herself and Rose here at the ranch.

Billy wolfed down two sandwiches and dispatched his soup with equal enthusiasm. Rose matched him, mouthful for mouthful. For a six-year-old, she ate like a horse. Shannon took a bite of her sandwich and played with her soup. The phone call from Travis had effectively destroyed any appetite she might have had, and she was brooding about her future. Where was she going to raise her daughter if there was no place for her here?

“Not hungry?” Billy said, already finished.

“I ate a big breakfast,” Shannon lied. “Wonder where my father’s at.”

Billy shook his head. “We talked about fixing the windmill. Maybe he decided to make a start on it. He lost all interest in haying when he thought you’d left.”

Shannon shook her head with a frustrated sigh. “Soon as I get all the groceries put away, I’ll pack him a lunch and walk up there.”

“But you said we could go riding,” Rose protested.

“We will, after we make sure your grampy’s fed.”

Billy pushed away from the table and reached for his hat. “I’ll get back to haying. Thanks for lunch.” He paused with his hand on the door. “Cell phones don’t work all the time out here, Shannon. If anyone unwelcome should show up, call the police on the landline right away, then call my cell. The number’s written on the wall beside the phone.”

Shannon felt an unexpected twinge of gratitude. “Thanks, Billy, but we’ll be okay.”

He held her gaze a moment longer, then turned and went out the screen door with a squeak and a bang. She watched him walk down toward the bridge over the creek. Watched him until he walked out of sight, grudgingly admiring the strong set of his shoulders and the quiet, solid competence of him.

Eight years of soldiering had given him the kind of masculinity that only came from encountering and surviving adversity and hardship day after day, year after year. The years since high school had changed them both in ways they’d never anticipated.

She’d come back home bruised and battered from a failed relationship, spooked as a deer and afraid of her own shadow. Billy’d been through different fires and was scorched around the edges by his years in the military, but those fires had given him a depth and substance that many men would never achieve.

True, she resented him for buying the piece of land she’d dreamed of building her little house on, but after Travis’s phone call, she was glad Billy was here. Keeping Rose safe from harm was her top priority, and Billy had as much as promised that no harm would come to them here.

“Do you think Billy could teach me to ride?” Rose asked, coming to stand beside her.

“If anyone could, it’d be Billy. He was a rodeo champ before he was eighteen. Just a kid, but he beat ’em all, even the best of the best.”

“Momma, what’s rodeo?”

Shannon looked down at her daughter and gave a rueful laugh as she reached to tousle Rose’s tawny curls. “Rodeo’s a crazy part of the wild spirit of the West, Rose, and I promise I’ll take you to see one, first chance we get. Now let’s pack up a lunch for your grampy and find him, if we can.”

* * *

BILLY FINISHED CUTTING and turning both fields by sundown. He wanted to make good on the day because of Shannon. Not only because she doubted he could physically handle the full-time work, but also because of how vulnerable she was right now. She was nursing wounds from a failed marriage, she’d given up her singing career, returned home with Rose and was looking for a safe place to rebuild her life. Billy was hoping she’d realize her father’s ranch was the place. He was hoping she’d want to stay.

Shannon had always been different from the other girls, even back in high school. Strong willed, with a self-confidence that went way beyond her years. She was smart as a whip, prettier than an October sunset and she could sing. Man, could she sing.

Billy had been used to having his pick of pretty girls. That territory came with the rodeo championships and being a winning quarterback. But Shannon was the kind of girl who intimidated most guys.

It was alphabetical luck that paired them as lab partners in chemistry class, and he got to know Shannon pretty well. She had a quick, wry sense of humor and an opinion about everything that left nobody wondering where she stood. There was a reason she was president of the debate club. Shy she was not. He looked forward to every moment of their lab time together and tested the waters very carefully before asking her if she wanted to go along with him to his next rodeo.

But still, when he asked her out, she’d very politely and coolly told him, “No, thank you,” without so much as a pause, adding, “My father says I should stay away from guys with only one thing on their minds, and I agree.”

“Have I made a move once during chem class? Come on, give me a chance.”

“Billy Mac, you’ve dated every pretty girl in this high school and then some. I’m reasonably sure you’ll find half a dozen fans to go with you to your next rodeo and they’ll jump up and down and wave pom-poms when you win that fancy belt buckle.”

Billy hadn’t given up. He’d done his best to win Shannon over, figuring that she must surely feel the chemistry simmering between them, chemistry that had nothing to do with the lab work they shared. After all, every time their hands touched, Shannon blushed. Their conversations ran the gamut from world affairs to the gossip heard at Willard’s General Store, and Billy began to hope that, in spite of the differences between them, in spite of the fact that he was just a half-breed off the rez and she was on track to be a country-and-western star, she might realize that she was falling in love with him.

But it was not meant to be, because that was the year Travis Roy’s family arrived in Bear Paw. Travis was a city boy and a slick talker. He could sing and play guitar. He started a country-and-western band and Shannon was his first recruit.

Before long, they were playing gigs at all the local watering holes. Then they were playing gigs in the big towns. Cities. The band entered a regional contest and won. Went to Nashville to enter a bigger contest and won there, too, handily. They were televised on a national star-search TV show just a few months later, which they also won.

They were young and on fire, and in retrospect, Billy couldn’t believe he’d had the nerve to ask her out that second time, to his senior prom, no less, knowing full well she’d turn him down once again and cut him off at the knees. But he asked her anyway, figuring he had nothing to lose, and she’d politely thanked him and said she already had a date.

Travis, of course.

So Billy took the head of the cheerleading squad to the prom and had to watch Shannon and Travis having too good a time together on the dance floor. That was the same night he blew any chance he might have had with Shannon by breaking Travis’s nose in the parking lot.

As soon as he could screw up the nerve he’d gone over to her ranch to apologize and he’d found her crying on the porch, her arms clutched around Tess. She’d had a fight with her dad about wanting to leave for Nashville, one of an endless string back then. Billy understood wanting something different than what you had. He’d gone to Shannon and held her for a long while...and then he’d kissed her.

He hadn’t meant to, hadn’t planned it, but Shannon’s body instantly melted against his, and she’d kissed him back with all the passion he knew lived within her. For a few brief, glorious seconds, Billy thought he’d finally won her heart...until she froze in his embrace as she realized what she was doing, wrenched herself out of his arms and slapped him, accusation in her eyes. “What happened to not making a move, Billy?” she’d said. “My father was right about you!”

Hurt and ashamed, he’d lashed out: “What’s the matter? A half-breed off the rez isn’t good enough for a McTavish?”