Above Rubies (Rockland Ranch) (10 page)

             
“Simple stuff.  You read
Jesus the Christ
like it’s nothing and you just understand the simple stuff?”  He was shaking his head again chuckling to himself.  “Simple stuff.”

             
                                          ****

             
The next week she went into town with Naomi to shop and run errands.  They went to the school district offices to talk with the superintendent, who was very cooperative.  He agreed to help her get started on her last credits before they had her records and sent her straight to the high school.  They signed her up for the two credits of math she was short and the one of English.  Other than that, Kit believed she only needed one more credit of an elective to have enough to graduate.

             
The counselor cautioned her, “If it turns out that you need something other than that, we’ll have to deal with it then.  You can take this math and English on-line.  What did you have in mind for the elective?”

             
Kit answered, “I have no idea.  What are my options?”

             
“You can probably take anything we offer that you could get into halfway through the year, but let's find you something you can work on at the ranch and not have to come in all the time.  Usually students pick stuff they like for electives.  What do you enjoy?”

             
Kit’s eyes lit up.  “I love art, especially sculpture.  Is there any way to do something along those lines?”

             
“As a matter of fact we have an exceptional art department.  Our teacher, Mr. Perkins, is actually a local artist who has been willing to teach part time.  He’s here now and I think his class is in an assembly.  Let me see if I can find him.  Just a moment.”  She got on the phone and confirmed that the teacher was in his room and sent them straight down.

             
As they walked in the door, Kit breathed in the smells and smiled.  She could smell all the familiar scents of the art room from before, that she had loved, oil paints, thinner, and gesso, and the earthy smell of her beloved clay.  She liked Mr. Perkins immediately.  His quiet straightforwardness was instantly reassuring. 

             
“Yes.  I’m sure we can work something out where you can work at home and bring your pieces in to be graded and fired.  Maybe you can do some research online into different techniques and styles, too.  One credit actually only needs to be approximately one hundred hours of work and if you're passionate about your work like most artists, you’ll have that done in no time.  Let me load you up with clay today and when you’re ready to come in, just call and make an appointment.  You can even bring them into the studio in my home if you want.  It’s probably about twenty minutes closer to your place.”

             
He helped them carry three large bags of clay to Naomi’s SUV and stow them in the back.  “Remember not to put much of this down her sinks.”  He indicated Naomi with his head.  “You’ll clog the drain lines sure as shootin’.  Wipe off with something first before you rinse.  Go to it!  I can’t wait to see your work!”  He smiled at Kit, shut the door and sent them on their way.

             
Kit floated on the way back to the ranch.  She truly hadn’t dared hope when Naomi told her she thought she could work on finishing high school, and she certainly never dreamed she'd have the opportunity to work with clay as part of the process.  Getting credit for doing something she enjoyed so much, and especially being able to work on her own ideas was far more than a dream come true.  She was so excited to get started she almost felt a little silly.

             
Naomi interrupted her thoughts from the driver’s seat.  “I’ve never had any experience with clay.  What else do you need to begin?  Are there tools or materials we need to gather up?”

             
Kit‘s voice was animated. “Actually that’s the beauty of clay.  You can work it with anything or just your hands.  About the only thing I need is a place to work, and some hand lotion.”  She qualified this.  “The clay sucks the moisture out of your hands, and then when you rinse the residue off, it removes the oils even more.  They can get trashed pretty quickly.  Sometimes I even used just plain salad oil to help them.”

             
Naomi smiled at her obvious enthusiasm.  “I take it you enjoy this.”

             
Kit smiled back shyly. “It’s funny he talked about artists being passionate about their work.  That’s exactly how I feel.  Sculpture is my passion!”   

             
“Well then, we’d better find you a place to get started right away.  Have you been up to the craft room back of the stairs?” 

             
Kit shook her head.  “I haven’t.”

             
“It’s a large open room with a big work table in the middle.  There’s a sink and the whole west wall is windows, so the light is good.  Maybe you could set up in there. Cooper and his friends never go in there, so hopefully nothing will be destroyed before you can get it in to be graded.  I’m assuming things will be fragile.”

             
“Until the clay is fired the first time it’s very easily broken, and after firing it’s similar to a piece of stoneware.  I seldom do things that are terribly delicate, but I never know what I’m creating until I start, so who knows.”

             
Naomi asked, “Is this like pottery kind of stuff you do, or is it sculpture or bronzes, or what’s your work like?”

             
Kit stared out the window unseeing for a moment.  “I have no idea what you’d call what I do.  It’s just what I do.  Images and shapes just flow when I get the clay in my hands.  I can’t even explain it.  It’s like….”  She hesitated. “I don’t know what it’s like.  When I first started to use clay, all the frustration and hurt and discouragement I had stored up over the years poured out through my hands and it has been my outlet, my catharsis, when I had nowhere else to turn.”  She was slightly embarrassed.

             
Naomi commented as she drove into the grocery store parking lot.  “You don’t talk like a seventeen year old, Kit.  You look it, but you don’t act it or sound it.  You’re much better educated than I would have thought for your age and background.”

             
Kit shrugged.  “You’re the only one I’ll admit this to, but I’m pretty smart.  I remember everything I read or hear, and for some reason I catch on quickly.  Sometimes I’ve had to try to hide it.  It can get on peoples nerves or make the other kids uncomfortable.  Sometimes in school I would purposely miss stuff so I seemed more regular or something.  I especially had to be careful around the boys.  I think I intimidated them.”  She gave a self-deprecating smile.  “Even Sunday when I told Rossen and Slade and Isabel what I had been reading, you know the books you’ve been lending me about the church?  I think I kind of freaked Rossen out a little.” 

She
smiled, but in a way, it made her sad as well.  “It’s actually been good.  I’ve had to spend a lot of time alone and books and learning have been my friends.  They’re constant, even when I was being moved around from home to home a lot or ended up with a family that wasn’t necessarily interested.”  She tried not to let her voice became wistful as she ended and looked out the window at the passing shoppers.

             
Naomi reached across to touch her hand.  “I didn’t mean to squelch your mood.  Don’t be sad.  The foster homes are all behind you.  And even if Rossen was a shade shell shocked at your amazing abilities, he still admires and respects your mind a great deal.  We all do.”

             
She went on, “I’ll admit something to you, too.  When they brought you home and we decided to help you, honestly we expected a troubled teen with an attitude and a drug habit.  And we would have dealt with that as well as we could.”  She smiled warmly at Kit.  “But look what a pleasant surprise you’ve been!  Not only are you not a hassle, but you’re beautiful and talented and brilliant!  We just wish we’d have found you years ago!”  She opened the car door.  “And you help me with things like grocery shopping, which can be quite a project when we’re all home.  You’ve been a great help!”

             
They ended up with two huge carts full.  Kit could hardly push hers around one armed, so they checked out once and came back for more.  The whole cargo area of Naomi’s Jeep Cherokee was filled up around the bags of clay.  Kit was glad to see the whole family automatically file into the garage to help unload it after they drove in.  They put all the bags on the huge dining table and then Naomi sorted it and asked various people to put it all where it belonged.  Kit helped Rossen load frozen food into the deep freezers in the garage and on the way back in, asked him to help her unload her clay up to the craft room.

             
At first he had no idea what she was asking him to unload out of the car.  When he went to lift them he exclaimed at how heavy they were.  He pulled one out to carefully place it in her good arm, and then pulled the other two out and asked, “What in the world is it?”  His look made her laugh.

             
“It’s clay.  For my elective credit they’re going to let me do some stuff from here and take it in to the art teacher in town.”

             
He looked skeptical.  “I’m glad it’s you, not me.  I had no idea this was what clay was like.”  As they headed up the stairs he asked, “Are you sure you should be carrying something that heavy?  Especially one handed?”

             
She smiled, grateful for his concern.  She still wasn’t used to people being this nice to her, and it was so sweet to be cared about.  “I’m fine, thanks.  It’s really not too bad.”

             
When they reached the craft room, she looked around, thrilled.  This room would be perfect.  She wished she could open one of the bags right then.

                                                        ****

             
Rossen watched her touch the unopened bags almost lovingly before they went back down the stairs.  The look in her eyes was the same he'd seen as she stroked the guitar that first time she saw it.  It was a look that fascinated him.  How would it be, to be that special to her?  It was an intriguing thought.

Chapter 6

             
A week into the New Year, Sean, Treyne, Joey, and Cooper all went back to college and the house felt half abandoned.  With their departure, the holiday atmosphere dampened down and everyone seemed to settle into a workaday pace.  Ruger and Marti were getting ready for foaling season and came over less, and Rossen started spending longer hours in his office to catch up on a backlog from being gone to rodeos.  Slade was busy on his own ranch and Isabel was planning their imminent wedding.  She was living at Naomi and Rob’s and even though she was around making arrangements, the house seemed much less busy and active than it had.  For a few days, Kit really missed all the commotion.

             
Kit got into a schedule of doing her school work right after breakfast in Rob and Naomi’s office that was right next door to Rossen’s.  She would usually work until lunch and then see what she could help Naomi with.  When that was done she would go up into the craft room, and work with her clay.  She tried not to spend too much time there, because she wanted to help as much as could so she didn’t feel like a burden, but the time she spent sculpting was almost therapeutic. 

             
At first she just worked on abstract pieces, letting the shapes flow from the images in her mind.  Her work always reflected her mood and her attitude.  She was intrigued to find that the spirit of her art had drastically changed since she’d come to Wyoming.  The lines were smoother, the transitions more streamlined and the overall images more gentle and softer.  She sometimes felt her work was like driftwood, with the roughness smoothed away by the peace of the mountains.  The cool, slick clay almost seemed to shape itself under her slim brown hands.  The feelings she could never express verbally, flowed easily into the clay. 

             
Rossen worked most mornings in his office next door to Rob and Naomi’s.  Kit could often hear him on the phone as she worked on her English and math.  Her classes were pretty elementary and she was able to finish her daily assignments quickly.  Sometimes afterward she would stay on-line to research other things. 

             
She knew next to nothing about rodeo and she was able to find information about the sport and even about Rossen and his standings relatively easily.  Reading about it was interesting, but she still felt like she didn’t have much of a grasp on it, even after studying.  It was definitely an action sport and she realized it would have to be seen in action to begin to understand it. 

             
She also pulled up Wyoming and the southeast area in particular to find more about the place she was so happily living.  She hadn’t paid particular attention in school because it hadn’t been of much interest to her, but now she needed to know more.

             
She Googled petroleum engineering one day, too.  It was probably foolish, but she wanted to know everything she could about what Rossen did professionally.  Even though she tried not to let herself dwell on him or what he did, she was still so drawn to him and wished she understood his world better.