The Brushstroke Legacy (19 page)

When Nilda finished rinsing and wringing out the shirts and long Johns, she dumped them in the two pails. “Come along, Eloise, we’re going to hang these up.”

“Where?”

“On the trees and bushes by the river.”

“Oh.” She bounced along beside her mother, one hand on the edge of a bucket, the other carrying a stick that she used to swat the
grass and weeds. Behind the house, the cattle had grazed the grass down as if it had been mowed.

“Don’t step in the manure.”

“What?”

Nilda set the pails down and pointed to a drying splot of greenish brown manure. “Ishta.”

“Stinky?”

“Ja, stinky.” Together they avoided the cow pies and stopped in the shade of the rustling cottonwood trees. Nilda shook out the shirts and laid them over a thicket of brush, one at a time, then hung the long Johns on the lower branches that had been denuded of leaves. Now if only the breeze would leave the clothes alone—the way it set the long-handled legs to dancing made her wonder if she shouldn’t stay there to guard them. Or wait until she had a clothesline near the house and clothespins to hold things together.

Since the cows often rested under the trees, cow pies pocked the sand, making Nilda watch her step and her daughter. Surely there was a better way to do this. She’d read of the women heading west in the wagon trains, pounding their wash on the rocks of a riverbed and drying things the same way she was.

“Eeuw, stinky.” Eloise cried while she picked herself up from the dirt where she’d fallen. She held out her hands. “Ma, stinky.”

“Uff da, I told you to be careful.” Nilda fought between annoyance and laughter. Poor little thing had managed to stumble into one of the more recent patties. “Ishta is right. Let’s go wash you in the river.”

“Carry me.”

“No, you walk. Come along.” She headed for the river, thinking of dunking the entire child, clothes and all. Perhaps she’d better spend
some time sewing more garments for her daughter. She had a feeling she’d not stay as clean as she had in the city. But then they’d never had a river at their door either. Or cow pies.
What other indignities must I put up with?

But as they headed for the house after washing Eloise down, Nilda glanced over to see one of the young stock nosing a shirt.

“Get away from there. Cows don’t eat shirts.” She flapped her apron, setting the yearling racing for the rest of the herd.

“They do if you give ’em a chance,” Hank hollered from the garden.

She was sure she’d heard him laughing. Or someone laughing. Guffawing actually. Could it be Mr. Peterson? And if it was, how dare he?

“We need more caramel rolls.”

Ragni smacked her niece on the rear. “Thought you didn’t care much for them.”

“That was before.” Erika pulled open the door to the Cowboy Cafe and motioned Ragni to go ahead.

“Before what?”

“Before you starved me to death.”

“Oh, sure. I starved you to death.” Ragni glanced around the room and caught a wave from the back table where Paul and Herb were already seated. “We’re joining them,” she told the waitress, who led the way and set menus at their places.

Paul stood as Ragni and Erika arrived and Herb half rose. “You better bring a whole pot of coffee,” Paul said to the waitress. “They look like they need waking up.”

What a difference, men who’ve been taught manners.
“Thanks, guys.” Ragni smiled at both men as they all took their seats.

“How did it feel to sleep in a real bed again?” Paul asked Erika.

“A real hot water shower was the best part.” Erika poured cream and sugar in her coffee. “But we’re back at the cabin tonight.”

“You make it sound like you’re being punished. Lots of kids would give their right arm for a chance to be in the country, camping out under the stars…” Ragni unwrapped the paper napkin from around the silverware and laid it in her lap.

“Hauling buckets of water from the river, scrubbing until my knuckles bleed…”

“Playing with a colt, riding along the river…”

“No running water, using an outhouse…” Erika wrinkled her nose.

The men laughed at their banter, but Ragni wondered if Erika was having such a terrible time.
Oh well, only a little over a week until we head home.
She turned to Herb after a sip of her coffee. “So how’s the estimate coming?”

Herb laid a leather binder on the table and flipped it open to a clipboard that held his papers. He pulled one out and handed it to Ragni. “This is general information about the three types of roofing, comparisons as to cost, and estimates for each kind.” He pulled out glossy colored fliers. “Here’s more information about each type—lightweight concrete, metal, and shakes, which as you remember, I really don’t recommend due to fire hazard. I need to pick up whatever you choose in Dickinson. I don’t keep much on hand.” He paused. “Did you get a chance to talk things over with your family?”

“Yes, we need to get the roof done.”

Ragni laid out the three glossies and studied each. She looked up when the waitress stopped for their orders; when it came her turn, she gave up and ordered the same as before, this time with six caramel rolls to go. Back to the roofing project.

“It looks to me like the metal is the easiest to put on. It’s fireproof, and although not historically correct, Mom and Susan told me to make the decision. So I am. Erika, which color do you like best?”

“Blue.”

“Then blue it is.” Even though she favored the green, anything would look better than what was on it. She nodded as she watched Herb write down the numbers, plug them into his calculator, and give her the cost.

“And you’ll send the bill to the address I’ll give you?”

“Yep.”

“So the major question is—when?”

“Like I said, I can’t get at it until after the fifth.”

“And we leave on the sixth.” She shook her head. “I just feel I should be here.”

“So stay.” Paul dropped the two simple words like a leaf left to bob alone on the surface of water.

“I have a job that I have to get back to,” Ragni tried to cover her surprise.

“Shame.”

“It pays the bills.”

“Wouldn’t take much to live on out here.” Paul shrugged.

“Get real. No plumbing inside or out, no electricity…”

“True, but those aren’t impossible to fix.”

Ragni glanced up with a forced smile as the waitress slid their plates onto the table. “Thank you.”

“Can I get you anything else?”

“No thanks.” Ragni dug into her eggs like the little devil sitting on
her shoulder dug into her insides.
Where would he get an idea that I’d want to stay out here?
She looked up to catch him watching her as he spread blackberry jam on his toast.

While she wanted to glare at him, for some reason she caught herself grinning. The carved lines that bracketed his mouth deepened with a smile that sent warmth curling in her belly.
Oh no you don’t. This is not the man for you. He lives in North Dakota, and you live in Chicago. You are not a country woman; you are an advertising executive with problems to solve and ads to produce.
Sometimes she wanted to strangle that little voice and just enjoy what was happening. Like that smile.

The conversation switched to Sparky and then the upcoming holiday celebration. It sounded like all of Medora and the surrounding area was invited.

“You’re sure you can’t come any sooner?” she asked Herb as they were filing up to the counter.

“Nope. Sorry. Had to put this customer off once already.”

“All right, but is there something I can do to get the roof ready?” Ragni asked lamely, not sure what she’d be able to do from the ground anyway.

“No, you stay off that roof,” Paul said, suddenly standing too close behind her.

“What?” She could feel his breath on her face, so she took a step sideways.

Paul leaned forward just enough to make her want to step back again. She was sure if she looked down, she’d see sparks ricocheting between them. “Trying to keep you safe.”

It’s not your responsibility to keep me safe. If I want to work on the roof, I’m going to work on the roof
. Her eyes slitted without her volition, and her jaw tightened.
Now why in the world do I suddenly want to work on the roof?

She shook her head and turned to pay her bill, the bill she’d already had to fight for.
My, he is sexy
—
Now where did that thought come from? No wonder girls go crazy for rodeo riders. All right, Ragni, you are here for less than two weeks, so you can get along with the locals for that short time without letting them get to you.
“Thanks.” She paid her check, picked up the two boxes of rolls, and followed Erika out the door.

“See you this afternoon.” Paul touched the brim of his hat.

“For what?”

He ignored her and turned to Erika. “How about playing with Sparky later today?”

“Good, what time?”

“Oh, after three. I’ve got some chores I have to do, and then I’ll come get you.”

“She does have feet, you know.” Ragni said. The look Erika lobbed her way would frizzle hair.

“That’s okay, I was coming anyway.”

“Oh, really?” Ragni tilted her head to the side.

“See you then.”

Ragni slid behind the steering wheel. Here she was, clear out in the Badlands of North Dakota to find a few days of simplicity, and all she was running into was complications. She glanced over at Erika, who stared out the side window.
Ah, back to the silent treatment. Well, two can play that game.

They drove into the yard by the cabin without either of them saying another word. Erika got out, slammed the car door, grabbed the two water buckets, and stomped off down to the river.

Ragni shook her head and began unloading the supplies they’d bought the night before. She left the paints and other art supplies in the car and took the new stovepipe into the house, hoping she’d measured right and the pipe would go in as smoothly as the window had. The man at the hardware store had given her what sounded like complete instructions. If only she could remember to think—with love— before opening her mouth and saying something like, “She has two feet.” What difference did it make to her if Paul gave Erika a ride over to his ranch?

It wasn’t Paul; it was Erika. She dropped the packages on the counter in the kitchen and stopped to analyze her thought.
Erika has a crush on him, and I don’t want her getting hurt. She goes home with a broken heart and Susan is going to kill me. As if I have any control over what the kid does, let alone her thoughts and feelings.

Are you sure it’s Erika and not you?
This time the little voice whispered so softly, she almost failed to hear it. Almost but not quite.

Choosing to ignore the voice, she thought back to the first crush she’d had on an older man. Susan warned her, but that did about as much good as telling the wind to stop blowing.

Peter was a college student doing his student teaching in the art department her freshman year in high school. “You’re pretty good, you know that?” he’d told her one afternoon in class, shoving fingers through tawny hair that curled to his shoulder. They were working with pastels, so he took his eraser and lifted a highlight on the curve
of the apple she’d been working on. “Just that little bit will make that reflection pop. See what I mean?”

She’d never drowned in a guy’s eyes before. “Yeah, sure.” The words came from some far distant universe.
Will you be here for the rest of the year? My life?

She spent the next two weeks dreaming of their every encounter and making sure she took all his advice to heart. Until she saw him lean in the car window and kiss the woman behind the steering wheel.

Her sister had been right: puppy love was the pits.

Ragni laughed at herself. If only she could share that memory with Erika, but right now she wouldn’t understand. Not want to understand. Stepping around Erika, who was pouring water from the bucket into the large pot on the camp stove, she headed to the privy, still thinking back to her high-school years.

A dry, buzzing rattle caught her attention on the path to the outhouse. Ragni glanced up to see a mottled brown snake coiled in the sunshine in front of the door. Her scream scared the crows in the trees, and they set to screaming danger to the world. She sprang backward, ten feet or so in a single bound.
The stories are true. Your entire life does pass before your eyes in times of extreme danger.
She didn’t need to die of snakebite—the way her heart felt, she’d have a coronary.

Silent treatment now forgotten, Erika came running. “What’s wrong?”

Ragni pointed to the snake, forked tongue flicking the air, flat head weaving back and forth. Shuddering, dry-mouthed, her heart thundering in her ears, she whispered, “Get the hoe.”

“We can’t kill him! Just leave him alone, and he’ll go away. Paul
said the snakes are more afraid of us than we are of them. Give him some time, he’ll go away.”

“But he might come back.” Ragni was shivering and wrapped her arms around her chest.

Erika put an arm around Ragni’s waist. “Come on, let’s have a caramel roll.”

The two of them sat in the car, Ragni swigging water as if she’d run three miles. “I don’t get this,” she finally said. “You couldn’t sleep in the tent because a little bitty mouse was rustling in the grass, but there was a six-foot snake curled up next to the outhouse and you didn’t blink an eye.”

“You screamed enough for both of us.” Erika peeled off another section of her caramel roll and tipped her head back to let the piece dangle into her mouth. “Besides, if you’d been making noise like you told me to do, he’d have left before you got there.”

“Unless he was sleeping or hard of hearing.”

“Snakes pick up vibrations from the ground too. Stomp your feet next time.”

“I’ll stomp you, you twit.”

Erika lifted her eyebrows and grinned. “Right. And he—it wasn’t six feet long.”

“I have to pee.”

“You think it’s safe?”

“It will be if you come with me,” Ragni pleaded.

“Oh, for…” Erika slung herself out of the car and trudged all the way to the privy, then stood outside whistling.

“Thanks. That sucker really scared me.”

“Me too, if I’d gotten that close.” Erika shuddered. “He
was
big. Not six feet, but fat.”

“But you… you were so cool about it.” Ragni slowly shook her head.
I don’t get it.

Erika grinned at her with a slight tip of the head.

Back in the kitchen, Ragni stared at the stove. “Shall we try to put the pipe back up?”

“I thought we were going to clean out the chimney first.”

But how?
Ragni stared at the opening in the chimney, a two-inch metal flange surrounding the hole. “Guess if I get up on the roof and poke the broom down it…” She hesitated, still not eager to leave the ground.