Charlie Grace pulled on her gloves and headed toward the house, taking in the majestic mountain peaks in the distance and savoring their beauty.
Overhead, the sky was changing shades, from the pretty orange sherbet of dawn to early morning robin-egg blue. Charlie Grace took a deep breath of crisp air filled with the scent of sagebrush and pine needles before letting her attention drift to the far end of the pine meadow, where a herd of elk headed in the direction of the large creek that wound through their Wyoming property.
This never got old.
Teton Trails Ranch was her home, the only home she’d known. These acres of land fed her soul, no matter what kind of day she seemed to be having.
That thought brought a whistle to her lips as she made her way past the newly constructed guest cabins to the log ranch house. Two border collies remained close at her feet as she reached her destination and climbed the steps onto the porch. Smiling, she reached inside her jeans pocket and tossed them each a dog biscuit.
Her dad sat in his wheelchair next to the far railing with a cup of steaming coffee. “You’re late. Where you been?”
Charlie Grace was startled by the gruffness in his voice. “Morning, Dad.” She braced for what she knew would come when she admitted where she’d been. “I had to feed this morning.”
“Thought we had a ranch hand for that.”
“Well…he was a no-show this morning.”
“Didn’t I tell you that Roy Mullins wouldn’t last? You should have listened to me. All those boys from Cheyenne care about is their rodeo and whiskey.”
Charlie Grace steeled herself, unable to let his comment go. “You rode bulls on the circuit, Dad.” She refrained from mentioning his love for whiskey.
He huffed. “Yeah? Well, no more.”
She stiffened. “Dad, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got to get Jewel to the bus stop.”
He growled and waved her off before maneuvering his wheelchair so his back was to her.
Gritting her teeth, she headed inside.
“Hello, sweetheart.” Aunt Mo was standing at the sink, washing dishes. “You have that big meeting today, so I thought I’d drop over and help out a bit. Jewel is brushing her teeth.”
“You’re a godsend,” Charlie Grace told her as she kissed her aunt’s weathered cheek.
“Your breakfast is on the table, dear.”
Charlie Grace opened her mouth to protest.
Aunt Mo raised her soapy hand in the air. “Nuh-uh. You sit and eat. You can’t abuse your body and starve it of proper nutrition, or it’ll soon give out on you.”
She had a point. Doing as she was told, she picked up the fork and filled her mouth with scrambled eggs, still warm. She chewed while standing, then swallowed and washed the food down with a swig of orange juice.
Maureen Rivers, as she was known to everyone else, was one of the fittest women in Thunder Mountain…even at nearly seventy. She had a spunk for life that Charlie Grace could only wish for. Despite life’s setbacks, the woman found a way to exhibit joy and happiness. She claimed she wanted nothing more than what the good Lord determined to give her each day. That was enough.
“Hi, Mom. Don’t forget, I need money for the book fair.”
Charlie Grace turned to see her daughter standing with her backpack heaved over her shoulder. Her long auburn hair was braided down the back. From the looks of the strands sticking out, she’d styled it herself.
“Come here, honey. I didn’t forget.” She pointed to the envelope on the counter with her daughter’s name scribbled across the front and motioned Jewel closer.
“What?”
Without answering, Charlie Grace turned her daughter around and pulled the band from the bottom of the braid. “Excellent try, but you left some hanging loose. Let me fix it for you.”
Jewel tugged away. “I can do it.”
“Honey, we don’t have time. Please, let me help.” The look she gave her daughter messaged that she wasn’t taking no for an answer.
Charlie Grace couldn’t help but smile. Jewel was just like her at that age. Before her mother died, she wouldn’t allow her mom to give her assistance with anything. Like Jewel, she was independent and not about to let others intercede…especially when her mom wanted to place those pink foam curlers in her hair the night before school pictures. Like she wanted to be called a curly-headed ninny by the red-headed boy who sat behind her and poked her with pencils in class.
