Montana Hearts (10 page)

“You can always roll up your pants and go wading, I guess.”

Toby stepped out of the house carrying a beach towel and his iPod. “Hey, I thought we were gonna ride horses to our picnic place.”

“Not this time, son. I don't think Sarah's ready for that long a horseback ride just yet. We'll take the truck.”

For that, Sarah was ever so grateful.

 

Bouncing along in a pickup truck across the open prairie wasn't exactly Sarah's idea of comfortable transportation, but Kurt had been right about the picnic spot he'd chosen. Cottonwood trees stretched out to meet their neighbors across a creek that rushed by, the water so clear Sarah could see the rocky bottom. In the shade, a slight breeze cooled the air and fluttered the leaves on the trees.

Kurt had spread an old quilt on the ground, though Toby and Beth had no interest in sitting down. They were already splashing in a nearby pool of crystalline water despite the fact that they claimed it was freezing cold.

Stretched out on the quilt, Kurt braced himself on his elbows. “During the spring thaw, the creek rises up its banks and sometimes overflows. By September, if we don't get some decent rain, this will only be a trickle.”

“It's a beautiful spot, though.” Sitting with her legs beneath her on the quilt, Sarah admired both the countryside and Kurt's strong profile. He looked more relaxed at this moment than he had since she'd met him.

“My dad used to bring us out here, me and my brother and mom.”

“You mentioned your brother the day I came to the ranch.”

“Hmm, Ralph. Two years older than me. He lives in Denver with his wife and a couple of kids a little older than Beth and Toby. They visit once in a while.”

“I'm surprised as the older brother he didn't stay on the ranch.”

“Nope. He's a stockbroker. His wife, Terri, doesn't want anything to do with ranching.”

That struck Sarah as sad. Living here in the middle of such wide-open spaces made her feel especially connected to the wonders of nature and the Lord's creations.

“Guess you've already figured out living on a ranch is a lot different than living in the city,” he said.

“Different, yes. But that doesn't make it better or worse. Though it does take some getting used to the thought of sitting on the back of an eight-hundred pound animal instead of riding in a nice, comfortable car is a stretch for me.”

He chuckled, a deep sound that vibrated through his chest and found a matching response in her heart.

Watching the children playing in the water and listening to their laughter, they sat in silence for a time. The buzz of insects accompanied the click of leaves brushing together in the cottonwood trees. Overhead, a hawk circled in an updraft. On the far side of the creek, a gust of wind rippled the grass creating a golden wave across the landscape.

“Beth and her friend Caroline found a couple of boys to talk to after church this morning,” she told him.

He lay all the way down, tucking his hands behind his head so he could look up through the tree branches to the blue sky. “Yeah?”

“She's growing up fast, Kurt. Have you talked to her yet about boys and dating?”

He bolted to a sitting position. “Was she doing something with those guys? Who were they?”

His horrified expression nearly made her laugh. “Shh, calm down. She wasn't doing anything wrong. But one of the boys did seem interested in her, and I think she may be interested in him.”

“She can't date yet. She's only twelve. Seventh grade.”

“Almost thirteen, as I recall. The boys were a little older. It would be better to talk to her now instead of waiting until—”

“I can't talk to her about boy-and-girl stuff.” He glanced toward his children. “I'd get all tongue-tied. Why don't you talk to her? She'd listen to you.”

His suggestion stunned Sarah. “It's not my place to talk to her, Kurt. For one thing, I'm only here until school starts. She's going to need to have more than one conversation on the topic. And for the other…” A lump formed in her throat and an ache filled her chest. She had to look away. “I'm not her mother.”

When she looked back, Kurt was staring at her intently with an unreadable expression on his face. His golden-brown eyes had turned nearly to black.

The intensity of his demeanor, the look in his eyes, created a hunger in her she'd never before experienced.

A hunger that had nothing to do with going on a picnic.

He held her gaze for a moment longer, then glanced away. “I think I'll go cool off.” He pulled off his boots and socks. Standing, he stripped off his shirt, jogged toward the swimming hole and did a cannonball right between his two children.

Beth screamed. Toby laughed.

Surfacing from the bottom of the creek, Kurt came up sputtering. “Man, this is
cold!
”

Sarah smiled at his antics. It was good to see Kurt playing with his children. Good for them and for Kurt.

So why did she feel a strange emptiness somewhere near her heart?

 

By midafternoon, the children had had enough swimming and enough sun. They packed up the remnants of the lunch Kurt had prepared and drove back to the ranch house.

“Hey,” Toby said from the cramped backseat of the truck's extended cab. “Isn't that Nana's car in the driveway?”

Sarah glanced at Kurt. “I hope there isn't anything wrong.”

He shook his head. “With Nana Grace, you never know.”

As Kurt parked near the barn, Grace stepped out of the house and waved.

“Hello, you people,” she said. “I wondered where you had gotten to.”

Sarah got out the of the truck cab and Toby tumbled after her.

“We went on a picnic,” Toby said. “Out at the ol' swimming hole. Dad did a cannonball and practically drowned Beth.”

“He did not drown me,” Beth said.

Holding her hands together as if in prayer, Grace
said, “Wonderful! Your mother loved picnics. How nice Sarah remembered.”

Sarah started and shook her head. “I had no idea—”

“Well, come on in, children.” Grace beckoned them inside. “I've a special treat for you. You'll see. It's in the freezer.”

Nonplussed that Grace thought
she
had remembered something of Zoe's past, Sarah turned to Kurt. “I think your mother-in-law is having some sort of a nervous breakdown. She's confusing me with her daughter.”

Kurt hefted the ice chest out of the back of the truck. “I'm sure it's just wishful thinking. She'll get past it.”

Not confident that was the case, Sarah snared the damp towels in the truck bed and carried them into the house, dropping them off in the laundry room.

“I stopped in town on my way here and bought some peppermint ice cream.” Grace retrieved a gallon container from the freezer. “That was always Zoe's favorite flavor. I thought you'd all enjoy the special treat.” She busied herself getting out bowls and spoons, then scooped generous servings of the ice cream into bowls.

Grace's strange behavior raised the hair on the back of Sarah's neck. “Just a spoonful for me, Grace.”

“Don't be silly, child. You love peppermint ice cream.” She held out two bowls of ice cream to Sarah.

“Now, everyone sit down at the table. We'll have a nice chat. I have another surprise for you.”

For a moment, Sarah froze with the two bowls of ice cream in her hands. “Grace, I've never tasted peppermint ice cream.”

“You'll love what else I brought for you to see,” Grace said, ignoring Sarah's comment. “It's Zoe's scrapbook, from when she was a tiny baby all through high school.”

Kurt tried to intervene. “Nana, the ice cream's great, but I don't think Sarah wants to look at Zoe's scrapbook.”

“I do. I love looking at Mom's baby pictures.” Beth picked up a couple of servings of ice cream, carried them to the table and plopped herself down at her place. She shoved the second bowl in Toby's direction.

Reluctantly, Sarah sat down at the table. Almost immediately Grace sat down between her and Beth and produced the scrapbook.

“Maybe we should wait until after we eat the ice cream,” Sarah suggested. “I know the scrapbook is precious to you, Grace, and I wouldn't want anything to spill on it.”

“Oh, you're always careful, dear,” Grace blithely said.

Opening the brown faux leather scrapbook to Zoe's first baby pictures, Grace began a monologue that covered every high point in her only child's life. She rarely took a bite of ice cream, far more engrossed in her daughter's past than the present.

Beth—and sometimes even Toby—seemed to eat up the stories, some of which they'd probably heard before.

What troubled Sarah was Grace's apparent mental confusion. Several times she asked if Sarah remembered a particular incident then shrugged off her denials.

Even Beth looked at her occasionally as though Grace were talking about Sarah, not her deceased mother.

Only Kurt, who frowned or shook his head occasionally, seemed to share Sarah's concern about his mother-in-law's behavior.

While it was good for the children to learn about their mother's life, Grace appeared to be creating a fantasy world where Zoe still lived, or a part of her did, in the heart that now beat in Sarah's chest.

For everyone, mentally and emotionally, that was an unhealthy fairy tale.

T
he next several days were surreal.

One afternoon, Nana brought a batch of snicker doodles she'd baked to the house, Zoe's “favorite” cookie. After a shopping trip to Shelby with a friend, she brought Sarah a turquoise tank top with a scalloped, scooped neckline.

“Zoe always looked good in turquoise,” Grace said with a large dose of nostalgia. “I thought you might like something cool to wear on these warm days.”

The brushed cotton fabric felt soft in Sarah's hands; the style was impossible for her to wear.

“It's very thoughtful of you to think of me.” She handed the top back to Grace. “I really don't wear tank tops.”

Grace's eyes widened in surprise. “Why on earth not? You have a lovely figure and the color is perfect for you.”

Sarah took Grace's hand. “Look at me, Grace. You know I had major surgery, a heart transplant. I have a scar from my breastbone to my belly button. I'd be embarrassed to wear something that showed my scar.”

Her eyes blinked a half-dozen times in rapid succession. “Yes, of course, what was I thinking?”

“You were thinking of your daughter. I'm
not
your daughter. I'm Sarah Barkley from Seattle. You know that, don't you?”

Grace withdrew her hand and stood up to her full five feet three inches. “Of course I know that. Whatever you may think of me, I'm not a ninny.” She whirled and marched out of the house, her back as straight as a fence post.

Sighing, Sarah went back to folding the clothes that she'd taken out of the dryer. She hadn't handled that very well. But she desperately wanted Grace to face reality. Her daughter, the daughter she had loved and raised, was dead.

Zoe was never coming back.

Grace wasn't the only person who'd been acting strangely this week. Since the picnic, there'd been something different about Kurt.

Any number of times, Sarah had caught him looking at her with a singular glint in his eye. Masculine interest? Or curiosity? She couldn't tell.

In either case, the glances he'd sent in her direction had unnerved her. Once she'd even dropped a glass on the kitchen floor. He'd hurried to help her pick up the broken shards of glass, giving her another her one of those looks.

She'd been left breathless and with a bad case of palpitations that had nothing to do with heart failure.

 

The night before the county hearing on the Western Region Cattle Feeding permit, Kurt sat at his desk, so
frustrated with his computer he was ready to throw it out the window.

He gritted his teeth and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. Ever since the picnic, he hadn't been able to concentrate. The image of Sarah kept popping into his mind—the way her silky hair skimmed her chin, the soft curve of her lips, the sparkle in her eyes when something amused her.

He'd had other thoughts, too. Thoughts he hadn't been able to articulate, yet they continued to haunt both his waking hours and his dreams.

Opening his eyes, he sat forward again. Maybe Sarah could figure out what he was doing wrong on the computer.

He found Sarah in the living room, sitting on the couch, her legs curled up under her, reading her Bible.

Kurt felt a stab of…what? Envy? Or regret that she was so comfortable with her faith and he had lost his?

He cleared his throat. “Excuse me. I hate to bother you.”

Keeping her place, she looked up and smiled. “No bother. What do you need?”

“A computer guru, or at least someone who can help me print out copies of my statement to the county and backup material for tomorrow's hearing.”

She used a blue ribbon to mark the page where she'd been reading and closed the Bible, setting it on the end table. “That shouldn't be a problem. Let me see what I can do.”

In his office, she sat in his chair. Kurt stood behind her, peering over her shoulder at the computer screen as she worked. He'd noticed lately that her hair had a faint
scent of citrus. A surprisingly provocative fragrance that made him think of fresh laundry hanging on an old-fashioned clothesline blowing in a breeze. A fragrance he wanted to capture and put in a bottle so he could enjoy it morning, noon and night.

“How many of these exhibits do you want to print out?” she asked.

“Five of them, plus my statement. I've been trying to combine them into one file but I keep messing up. I get seven copies of my statement and nothing else.”

“Okay.” Her slender fingers flew over the keyboard, switching from file to file. Her fingernails were short and, despite the gardening she'd been doing lately, well trimmed.

“There, I think I've got it.” She looked up and he could see the reflection of the overhead light in her blue eyes. “Would you like me to print out one copy to see if I've got it right?”

“Sure.” He forced the word past the tightness in his throat.

She held his gaze for a moment, and he had the uncanny urge to stroke her cheek with his fingertips, to feel the softness of her flesh. In the weeks that she'd been here, the Montana sun had deepened the color of her skin from creamy-smooth to a ripe, golden peach he hungered to touch.

She blinked and broke eye contact, turning back to the computer. A few more keystrokes and the printer started to spit out sheets of paper.

Forcing himself to step away, to distance himself from the scent of citrus he found so enticing, Kurt retrieved the papers from the printer as they appeared.

Nodding, he glanced through the presentation. Everything he wanted seemed to be there. “I don't know what I was doing wrong or what you did, but this looks good.”

“Wasn't too hard, really. I just started over and moved everything into a new file. You want me to print out the rest of the copies?”

“That'd be great. Thanks.” He sat on the edge of the desk as the printer went to work again. “All I have to do tomorrow is convince our honorable commissioners that Western Region has a history of messing up the environment wherever they operate a feeding program. Therefore, they shouldn't be granted a permit on my neighbor's property.”

“You can do it. I'm sure you can. You'll make a good case, they'll see that.”

Kurt wasn't so sure. The three county commissioners had a lot of contacts in the business community as well as ranching. Sometimes it was hard to know which way the wind would blow.

An inspiration struck him, a way to spend the better part of the day with Sarah. “How 'bout you coming along tomorrow to give me moral support? Western Region is bound to bring their big guns in to counter my arguments. It'd be nice to know someone there was on my side.”

She pondered his question a moment. “I'd like to come, but what about the children? Who'd keep an eye on them?”

“Maybe they can arrange to hang out with one of their friends.”

“All right.” She seemed pleased with that arrangement.
“They can call their friends first thing in the morning. If it all works out, I'll come along to be your cheering section.”

Feeling like a kid who'd been granted his deepest wish, Kurt nearly pumped his fist in the air.

 

The county commissioners met in the county health department conference room at noon. The room had seating for fewer than fifty people and was only half full when Sarah and Kurt arrived. Kurt handed copies of his statement and backup materials to the clerk, and they found chairs near the front.

Sarah had worn the one quasi-business outfit she'd brought along, a straight gray skirt, white blouse and navy blazer. From her perspective, Kurt looked quite dashing in his yoked Western shirt with a bolo tie, slacks and dressy boots.

Kurt leaned toward her. “Those three guys in pin-stripe suits have to be from Western Region, probably from the Cheyenne headquarters.” He gestured toward the men in the front row. “I'm betting attorneys.”

Sarah agreed, though she thought they had the look of hatchet men rather than members of the bar. Anxiety knotted in her stomach. She didn't want Kurt to lose his case.

As the meeting got under way, she studied the three county commissioners, all of them slightly overweight, as if they'd spent too much time on the chicken-and-pea-dinner speaking circuit with their constituents. Dressed casually, they wore no jackets or ties and had rolled their shirtsleeves up. She sensed they'd all grown up around Shelby and knew almost everyone in the county.

She hoped their local ties to community paid off for Kurt, not for the big out-of-town moneyed interests.

The commission chairman announced, “The next item of business is a request for a feed lot permit on property owned by Ezra Stone and leased to Western Region Cattle Feeding.” He looked toward the three businessmen in the front row. “We'll hear from Western Region first. Then, if there are any objections, we'll allow time for those.”

The company representative who stood at the podium was smooth, Sarah had to give him that.

With a professional PowerPoint presentation, he covered all the economic benefits to the community that would flow from issuing a permit for the feed lot, including increased taxes to the county and employment opportunities. He failed to mention any negatives about the company's past performance and frequent violations of environmental regulations.

When the gentleman completed his remarks and sat down, Kurt whispered, “How do I beat a pro like that? He made it sound like Western Region is as pure as a summer sunrise.”

She squeezed his hand. “You beat him with the facts, Kurt. You know they'll destroy your land. Tell the commissioners the truth.”

He took a deep breath, walked to the podium and introduced himself.

As he spoke, a sense of pride grew in Sarah's chest. He was forceful without being confrontational. He cited case after case where Western Region had failed in their obligations to the land owners and the communities.

When Kurt thanked the commissioners for their
attention, Sarah knew he would have convinced her of the truth. Now it was up to the three elected officials sitting at the front of the conference room.

The one on the right spoke up. “My dad and grand-dad ran cattle over Sweet Grass Valley way. Water was always a problem. They dug more dry wells than I care to remember.” He glanced pointedly at the three company representatives. “From what Mr. Ryder has told us, chances are pretty near one hundred percent your operation on Stone's land would pollute Ryder's water table and make a whole section of his land unusable for cattle.”

He turned to the commission chairman. “Peter, un less we get a whole lot more assurances and oversight for their operation, I have to vote against issuing the permit.”

Sarah grabbed Kurt's arm. He'd done it! He'd convinced the commissioners—

“Aren't you convicting Western Region before they've committed any crime?” the commissioner on the left said. “We sure could use the increase in taxes they'd pay and the jobs they'd bring into the county.”

Air escaped Sarah's lungs. She wanted to leap to her feet and tell the commissioner he couldn't do that. Couldn't vote for granting the permit that would ruin Kurt's land.

The commission chairman tapped his gavel to quiet the murmured comments buzzing around the room.

“Looks like it's up to me to break the tie,” he said.

“In all honesty, I'm surprised our county staff didn't research Western Region more carefully. Mr. Ryder took
the time to discover their feed-lot business practices, and I'm grateful he did.”

Kurt took Sarah's hand. “Should I tell 'em it was you?”

She gave a quick shake of her head, pleased he wanted her to share the credit for the report he'd put together.

“But knowing that now,” the chairman continued,

“means I can't, in good conscience, vote to approve the permit with its present parameters.”

Yes!
Sarah grinned at Kurt.

“If you gentlemen would like to resubmit your re quest, I'd suggest you build in plenty of government oversight and mitigating measures so that Mr. Ryder's property is not negatively impacted. We'll take a vote now.”

The roll call went as expected. Kurt won, two-to-one.

As soon as they could make their exit, Kurt hustled Sarah out of the meeting room and to his truck. The sun beating down on the vehicle had turned the truck cab into an oven. Kurt turned on the air conditioner. Sitting sideways facing her, his smile was as broad as a Montana sky.

“We did it,” he said. “
You
did it. Without you—”

“You were magnificent. They couldn't vote against you, not after they learned the truth.”

His eyes lasered in on hers. Her heart rate skipped a beat as he leaned forward. She felt herself moving toward him. Wanting him closer. Wanting…

His lips covered hers, at first tentative then with more feeling. She responded in kind. Emotion rose in her chest. And joy. It felt so right, so perfect, to be kissing Kurt.

He reminded her of the great outdoors, a combination of rugged individualism and masculine pride. The sensation sent her head spinning and her heart pounding. Her breathing labored and she felt as though she was standing on a high mountain where the air was too thin to sustain any rational thought.

His fingertips caressed her cheek. She threaded her fingers through his hair, the strands damp from the heat of the day.

When he finally broke the kiss, she inhaled deeply. Her body trembled.

“I've been wanting to do that since the picnic.” His hoarse voice was barely a whisper.

“You have?” She'd been thinking similar thoughts but hadn't dared to pursue them.

“Yeah.” He hooked a few strands of her hair behind her ear. “We make a good team, Sarah.”

She smiled. “You go into battle and I'm your backup.”

“More than that. Much more.” He touched his lips to hers again, a brief kiss that sent shivers of desire through her body. “I've been thinking…” He hesitated, visibly searching for the words he wanted. “I think you and I…I know this isn't the most romantic place for this, or maybe not even the right time, but I've developed feelings for you. I think we might have a future together.”