Montana Hearts (3 page)

He sank down on the arm of the couch. “This is no laughing matter.”

“I know. But you really should have seen your face. You had terror written all over it. In neon lights.”

The slightest hint of a smile curved the corners of his lips. “Well, if nothing else you know what you'd be getting into if you take the job.” He scratched the day-old whiskers on his square jaw. “I need some help. The whole family does. I'd pay you a decent wage, plus room and board. I'd also understand if you turned tail and got out of here as fast as that puny car of yours would take you.”

Oxygen seemed to escape her brain, leaving her dizzy with bells ringing in her head. Bells of excitement? Or bells of warning?

Had the Lord placed her in the diner at just the right time this afternoon to meet Kurt? Was this the Lord's plan?

There was no way to know for sure. Unless she took a leap of faith.

She drew a shaky breath and lifted her chin. “My car is not puny and I've never in my life turned tail when faced with a challenge.” Confronted with childhood leukemia and years of radiation and chemo, which damaged her heart so badly she'd needed a transplant at the age of thirty-two, she'd never stopped fighting. She didn't plan to stop now.

“Mr. Ryder, I accept your job offer.”

His smile broadened, squint lines appearing at the corners of is eyes. “Why don't you call me Kurt? It'll be easier that way.” He stood and extended his hand.

“Welcome to the Rocking R, Ms. Barkley.”

“Thank you, Kurt.” His hand was broad and warm and calloused, not at all like those of the businessmen who were her Seattle clients, but far stronger and more compelling. “Please call me Sarah.”

K
urt gave Sarah a brief tour of the house, then showed her the very large, modern kitchen.

“You could feed an army from this kitchen,” Sarah commented. Miles of granite counters and oak cabinets lined one side of the room. The window over two extra-deep stainless steel sinks looked over a fenced backyard with grass and flower beds that needed care. Beyond that a row of poplar trees formed a bright green windbreak.

A round oak table and chairs were placed on the opposite side of the room with a view to the east.

In the center of the room was a butcher-block counter. Above that dozens of gadgets hung from a rack, some of them Sarah couldn't even identify.

“Zoe really liked to cook,” Kurt said. “She had the kitchen remodeled and expanded several years ago so she could have bigger parties.”

“Very impressive.” Sarah rarely entertained. Until recently she hadn't had the strength.

“Your bedroom with a private bath is back here.” Kurt led her past what she took to be a pantry and supply
room. “Originally this room off the kitchen was for a servant, but Zoe turned it into a guest room. My brother and his family come to visit once in a while. They live in Denver.”

Sarah drew a quick breath as she stepped inside. Though simply decorated, the room had a homey feel to it. A handmade quilt covered a cherrywood double bed and there was a matching dresser with a vase of artificial daisies sitting on it. Sheer curtains covered the one window and on the walls, original watercolor paintings featured Western scenes. An oval hooked rug brightened the hardwood floor.

“This is lovely,” she said. “Your wife had very good taste.”

“Yeah, she did.” He backed out of the room. “I'll help bring in your things, then you can start dinner. I checked and it looks like Nana Grace defrosted some steaks.”

Steaks? Sarah rarely ate red meat but she supposed tonight could be an exception. Assuming she could figure out how to cook them.

An hour later, she'd unpacked her bags and stood staring at four huge T-bone steaks wondering what to do with them. She'd managed to find some shredded lettuce and tomatoes, and cut up some baby carrots to add to a salad. She figured Kurt was a big eater, so she put a loaf of bread and butter on the table.

But for the life of her, she couldn't find a broiler pan big enough to hold all the steaks.

Willing to admit defeat, she went in search of Kurt.

Toby was sprawled on the living room floor watching television.

“Toby, do you know where your dad is?”

He continued to stare glassy-eyed at the antics of comic characters determined to lop off each others' heads with laser swords.

“Toby?” When he still failed to answer, she shrugged. She'd find Kurt herself.

She turned down the hallway that led to his office. She found him there staring at the computer screen in much the same way Toby was watching TV. A disorganized pile of invoices sat on his cluttered walnut desk and old magazines and farm catalogs covered half of the nearby couch.

She knocked on the doorjamb and he looked up, a frown tugging his brows together. She opened her mouth to ask about cooking the steaks, but before she could speak, he said, “Do you know anything about computers?”

She blinked, caught off guard by his question. “Some. What seems to be the problem?”

“Beats me. I'm supposed to be able to pay my bills online. I clicked on something and the whole screen went blank. It's just plain gone.” He glared at the screen as if he could, by force of will, make the device do what he wanted it to do.

“Would you like me to try?” Fortunately, her computer skills were considerably better than her cooking prowess.

He moved out of his dark leather chair, and she took his place. A few quick clicks of the mouse and a spreadsheet appeared.

“Is this what you were looking for?”

As he bent over to peer at the screen, she caught the
scent of sage and wild grass on the prairie. The essential perfume of both Kurt and his land.

“That's incredible. How did you do that?”

“You must have accidentally hidden the whole work sheet. All I did was unhide it. You should be fine now.”

They traded places again.

“Did you want something?” he asked, his attention back on the computer screen.

“I was looking for a broiling pan to cook the steaks. I couldn't find one.”

“Grace grills them.”

“Oh.” His answer wasn't very helpful. She guessed he was referring to a barbecue grill she'd spotted on the back porch.

It took a couple of tries to light the propane but finally Sarah dropped the steaks on the grill.

Back in the kitchen, she set the table and poured milk for Toby and Beth and water for herself. She wasn't sure what Kurt would want to drink with his dinner, so she held off on that.

Beth came stalking into the kitchen, a cell phone in her hand. “Isn't dinner ready yet? I'm starved.” She plucked a cookie out of a rooster-shaped cookie jar with one hand while the thumb of her other hand nimbly sent a text to someone.

“The steaks should be ready any minute.”

Beth glanced at the stove, then toward the back door.

“Something's on fire!”

Sarah's head snapped around. “The steaks!” She grabbed a plate, a long-handled fork and raced out the door.

Flames leaped up around the steaks. Grease sizzled and sputtered. The rank air smelled of burned meat.

Sarah stabbed a blackened steak and dragged it onto the plate. She speared the next steak, singeing her wrist in the process. She jerked back and the steak slid off the fork onto the porch.

“Turn off the propane!” Beth screamed. “You're gonna catch the whole house on fire.”

Sarah ceased her efforts to rescue the steaks. Burning down the house was a real possibility. She turned the knob on the propane bottle, but that didn't immediately extinguish the flames.

Beth's shouting had rousted Toby away from the TV.

“Hey, a bonfire on our porch. That's cool.”

Kurt shoved past his son. “I'll get it.” He twisted the propane knob again, starving the flames of fuel. They sputtered one more time before vanishing.

In the silence that followed, Sarah took a deep breath. Her heart was rata-tat-tatting so fast she thought it might leap out of her chest.

“I am so sorry,” she said.

Kurt took the plate from her and piled the rest of the steaks on it. “No real harm done except to these steaks.”

The poor things looked like lumps of charcoal. “I've never barbecued before. I didn't know how long—”

“Talk about being stupid,” Beth complained.

Kurt nailed her with a look that would have terrified anyone else. It didn't seem to faze Beth.

“One more word out of you, young lady, and you'll do without dinner altogether.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “Nobody can eat that stuff anyway.” Head held high, ponytail swinging, she stomped back into the house.

Sarah suspected Beth's attitude was more self-defense than rebellion.

Dear Lord, show me a way to help this child, who is so desperately crying out for love and understanding
.

 

They'd all survived dinner, barely, by scraping off the charred layer on the steaks. Even so, Sarah thought eating the meat was like chewing hardtack.

With Kurt's help, she'd cleaned up the kitchen. Then he'd vanished back into his office to work on the accounts. Beth was still upstairs, pouting. Toby had resumed his place in front of the big-screen TV. From her perspective, the show he was watching looked too violent for a nine-year-old. Or an adult, for that matter.

The family ought to be doing things together, she thought. That's the only way they'd heal their grief.

She went to her room to retrieve her oversize tote that contained her ventriloquist's dummy. Dr. Zoom came fully equipped with a white lab coat, stethoscope, wire glasses and a Pinocchio nose.

For the past several years, when she was able, she had volunteered one morning a week at the University of Washington Medical Center. She donned a costume and became Suzy-Q, clown extraordinaire, visiting the pediatric oncology ward. Dr. Zoom told silly jokes and listened to his own heart instead of the patient's. She'd spent hours in front of a mirror making sure her lips didn't move when she spoke in Dr. Zoom's voice.

As Suzy-Q, Sarah also did face painting. All of this in an effort to pay forward some of the kindness that she had experienced as a child.

The best medicine she could give a sick child was a chance to smile and laugh, a few minutes of simply being a normal kid.

Maybe she could give the same gift to Kurt's children.

Returning to the living room, she sat on the couch and adjusted Dr. Zoom on her lap, his legs dangling over her thigh.

“Vhat's dat kid doing?”
Dr. Zoom asked in a fake German accent.

“He's watching TV,” she responded.

“Vaste of time, I say.”

Toby remained glued to the TV show, not so much as looking over his shoulder to find out who was in the room.

“Well, what should we do?”

Dr. Zoom looked up at her, his long nose quivering.
“Ve could drop a bomb on the boy?”

“No. That wouldn't be very nice.” Sarah wasn't at all sure Toby would even react to a ton of TNT going off.

“Hee hee hee. KABOOM!”

Very slowly, Toby turned his head and frowned.

“What'a'ya doing?”

“Is the boy alive? Let me listen to his heart.”

Sarah manipulated Zoom's stethoscope to the middle of his own chest.

“Oh, no. I hear nothing. Nothing! The boy is—”

“You're trying to listen to your own heart and you don't have one,” Sarah pointed out.

She definitely had Toby's attention now. His glassy, hypnotized look had been replaced by a note of interest.

“Vhat? No heart? Vhy don't I have a heart?”

“Because you're a dummy.”

Dr. Zoom twisted his head around to look at Sarah.

“It's not nice to call people names.”

“I'm not. You really are—”

“Don't say that.”

“But you—”

The quick exchange between Sarah and Dr. Zoom started Toby laughing. He shifted his position to watch her, the violent TV show forgotten.

“Way cool. How do you do that?” he asked.

“Do what?” she asked innocently.

“Make the dummy talk.”

“You mean ventriloquism?”

“Now see vhat you've done?”
Dr. Zoom shook his finger in Sarah's direction.
“Tell him it isn't so. I'm not a—you know—vone of dose.”

“Yeah, you are,” Toby insisted.

“Is zat what you think? Huh. I vill show you. You know vhat you get when you cross a pair of trousers with dictionary? Huh, you know vhat?”

“Naw, I don't know. What?”

Dr. Zoom did a little hop on Sarah's thigh.
“You get a smarty-pants, that's vhat. A smarty-pants like you, huh?”

Toby's giggle was infectious, and he had a wicked, little-boy gleam in his eyes. “Hey, Sarah, can you teach me how to do that?”

“But of course, young man. I am the greatest teacher in the world.”

“What's she going to teach you, son?”

They both looked up at the sound of Kurt's voice.

“Sarah's a ventriloquist, Dad. It's really cool. Her lips don't move at all. An' she's gonna teach me.”

Just like his son, Kurt cocked his head to the side. “Ventriloquist?”

Her face flushed and she shrugged. “A little hobby I have.”

“Really? I used to love stuff like that when I was a kid.” He sat down cross-legged opposite her, his grin as eager as Toby's. “Show me.”

Dr. Zoom proceeded to conduct a ridiculous conversation with Kurt about being a bowlegged cowboy. Kurt laughed and so did his son, the cares and battles of the day forgotten.

Sarah hoped her botched dinner would be as quickly forgotten.

Toby made an effort to speak without moving his lips, which left the words unintelligible. “Hey, I don't get it.”

“If you really want to learn, let's start with some easy exercises. There are lots of sounds you already make without moving your lips.”

“Like neighing like a horse?” Kurt asked.

The realization that Kurt was interested, too, gave Sarah's heart a little jolt. She couldn't help reacting to the mirthful twinkle in his golden-brown eyes. Her mouth felt dry and she had to lick her lips. “It'll be easier if we start with the vowel sounds, A, E, I, O, U. Try making those sounds without moving your lips.”

Toby gave it try, slipping only on the O and U sounds. Kurt repeated the exercise with the same level of success.

She grinned. “I can see you're both going to be great students. You practice and we'll work on lesson two after you feel comfortable with those sounds.”

Later in the guest room, she sat down and opened her laptop. First she sent an email to Tricia Malone, who was handling her business in Seattle while she was gone. Without providing any details, she explained she'd be staying in Sweet Grass Valley for the summer and promised to call her soon.

Then she ordered a couple pairs of jeans, casual tops and some sturdy shoes online. Her city clothes weren't at all suitable for the rough wear and tear of ranch living.

That task accomplished, Sarah slipped between the crisp sheets on the bed and picked up her Bible-study book as she did every evening. Tonight's passage was from Colossians 3:12. “Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” (NIV)

Sarah would certainly need patience with Beth, compassion with Kurt, who was still grieving, and gentleness with Toby. She prayed she would be up to the task the Lord had given her.