Love Without End: A Kings Meadow Romance Page 9

  “Sure. That’d be great if you could come help. I’ll call now.”

  Kimberly watched as her daughter picked up the phone and punched in the number, but she didn’t wait for someone to answer on the other end. She wanted out of her work clothes and into her favorite pair of jeans.

  Janet followed her to the bedroom door. “Tara’s super excited.”

  “I didn’t think anything but a horse could get her so worked up.”

  “Sam’s a nice kid.”

  “He seems like it.” She stepped behind the open closet door and began to change clothes. “But I’m not sure I’m ready for Tara to fall for him or any boy. Inevitably what follows a first crush is the first heartbreak.”

  “We all have to go through that, Kimmie. It’s how we learn as we grow up.”

  She tugged on her jeans. “I know. But I still wish I could protect her from it for a while. These last years have been hard ones. I’d like to see her happy for a good long spell.”

  “Despite all that’s happened to the two of you, Tara’s got her head on straight. You’ve done a good job raising her.”

  Kimberly looked around the closet door. “Do you really think so?”

  “I really think so.” Janet smiled at her before turning away. “I’m going to grill hamburgers for supper.”

  “I’ll be out in a sec to help.” Kimberly pulled on a T-shirt, then glanced in the mirror above the dresser. “You need to learn not to worry,” she told her reflection. If only I could.

  THAT EVENING, DINNER IN THE LEONARD HOME WAS AN uncomfortable affair, anger an almost physical presence in the room. Neither of the boys said more than a dozen words the entire meal. Tired of the tension, Chet excused Pete and Sam from doing the dishes. Easier to wash up himself, he decided, than let his sons’ foul moods give him an ulcer.

  When he’d finished cleaning up in the kitchen, he headed for his office, intending to accomplish some much-needed bookkeeping. Instead he sat at his desk and stared toward the window, unseeing.

  If Marsha were here, he wondered, would she know how to handle this rift between brothers? Or would she feel as helpless as he felt now?

  Chet would have given a lot to have had a brother when he was a kid. He’d had a great childhood, but sometimes he’d been lonely. He’d decided early on that, when he married, he wanted a big family. No only child for this Leonard. Four generations of that was enough. He’d wanted a bunch of kids to fill the bedrooms of this old ranch house as they’d never been filled before.

  He thought back to the births of each of his three sons, remembering the joy he felt the first time he’d held them in his arms. Happiness had seemed a promise for the rest of their days. But that kind of thinking had been naïve. Nobody got to be happy forever. Not on this earth. Trials came to the just and unjust, like the rain. He’d heard it said that happiness and joy were two different things. Happiness because of circumstances—and ever so fleeting. Joy because of trusting God, despite the circumstances. Was that true? He wasn’t sure.

  He stood and walked to the window. Sunset was a ways off, but the lowering sun had painted the barnyard with the muted shades of evening. He always liked this time of day on the ranch. Everything moved slower. Nothing was pressing. Chet closed his eyes and leaned a shoulder against the window case. As he released a deep breath, he let the concern for his battling sons go on a silent prayer.

  That you may know the way by which you shall go, for you have not passed this way before.

  He’d read that passage from the book of Joshua during his morning devotions, and as the words returned to him, he felt some of the worry drain away. This was new ground for them as a family, but they’d passed through a lot of new ground over the years. And somehow they’d always managed to find their way through it. With God’s help, they would do so once again.

  Thirteen

  KIMBERLY AND TARA LEFT KINGS MEADOW AT NINE o’clock on Saturday morning. It was one of those perfect days in May when the sky was crystal blue and the earth splashed with varying shades of green. Green was not a color Kimberly thought of first when she thought of Idaho. Not after spending her life in the Seattle area where the average annual rainfall was over three times more than here.

  The highway followed the Payette River, which ran high on its banks and roiled and frothed over boulders and trapped logs, but Kimberly couldn’t enjoy more than the occasional glance in the river’s direction. The winding road required her full attention.

  Once they were out of the mountains and headed into Boise, Tara read aloud Janet’s detailed directions to the recommended shop. Fifteen minutes later, the car turned into the parking lot beside Déjà Vu Couture. Nerves tumbled in Kimberly’s stomach.

  Please let there be a dress that Tara likes that I can afford.

  With the prayer repeating in her head, she opened the car door and got out.

  The secondhand clothing store was in a converted brick house in an older section of the city. If not for the store’s name and advertising, no one would have known the beautiful gowns inside had been worn before.

  Before her husband died, Kimberly hadn’t entered thrift shops for any purpose other than to drop off items they no longer wanted or needed. She’d done her shopping in upscale department stores and specialty shops. When she’d seen something she liked, she’d bought it, scarcely noticing the price tag. It shamed her now to remember it. She’d been careless with their resources. She’d forgotten—if she ever knew it at all—that Christians were stewards, not the owners, of whatever God entrusted to their keeping. It had been a difficult lesson to learn—or relearn—and she often wondered if she hadn’t been a spendthrift when Ellis was alive would things have turned out differently after he passed?

  Tara made a beeline to the round racks holding dresses in her size. Kimberly followed at a more sedate pace.

  A clerk soon joined them. “May I help you find something?”

  Tara looked up from the dresses. “I’m going to the prom next week and need a dress.”

  “I thought all the Boise and Meridian proms had been held already.”

  “We live in Kings Meadow,” Kimberly answered.

  “Oh. Of course.” The woman eyed Tara. “We should have a good number of dresses that would look wonderful on you. Do you prefer long or short?”

  Tara glanced at her mother.

  Kimberly answered, “Whichever you like, honey.”

  “Short, I think.”

  “Well then, you’re in the right spot.” The clerk patted the top of the round rack. “But if you change your mind, the floor-length gowns are over there.” She waved her hand in the direction of the racks holding long dresses that lined the far wall. “Call if you need assistance. The dressing rooms are in the back.” Again she motioned.

  “Thanks.” Tara started to look through the gowns before her.

  Kimberly stood back and waited for her daughter to pick the ones she liked best, hoping they wouldn’t have any arguments. Like many mothers and daughters, she and Tara often disagreed on style choices, especially when it came to tops that exposed too much skin or cleavage. Kimberly refused to budge on that one. Not that they’d done much clothes shopping recently. Not even in secondhand shops.

  The first dress that caught her daughter’s eyes was champagne colored with a rhinestone-embellished waist. Unfortunately, it was a strapless gown and a little mature for Tara. But Kimberly held her tongue, willing to wait until her daughter tried on all her finds.

  The next one was a sleeveless black dress with various sized gold sequins scattered over the fabric. It had a sheer neckline and a keyhole opening in the back. Modest, yet appropriately flirty for an almost-sixteen-year-old girl. That was a relief.

  Tara released a soft gasp. “Mom, look at this one.”

  Her daughter drew a turquoise dress from the rack and held it against her torso. The gown had a wide strap over one shoulder, and the bodice—which covered all that Kimberly wanted covered—glistened with silver sequins.
The top-layered skirt was scattered with beadwork. The underskirt had a playful ruffled hemline. It was perfect.

  “How much?” Kimberly asked, afraid to know the answer.

  Tara checked the tag. “Thirty-five dollars.”

  Kimberly was able to breathe again. It was an amazing bargain. The dress must have cost at least two hundred dollars when it was new. “Try it on, honey.”

  Tara didn’t hesitate for a moment. She hurried through the racks toward the dressing room, leaving her first two choices behind, along with her mother.

  Kimberly smiled as she followed after Tara, her gaze scanning the store. In addition to gowns, there were shelves of shoes off to her right and trays of jewelry in a glass case near the register.

  The woman who’d helped them earlier looked up from some papers on the counter and said, “I guess your daughter found something she liked?”

  Kimberly nodded. “If it fits, it will be perfect.”

  And it was perfect. When Tara stepped out of the dressing room a short while later and spun in a slow circle before the mirrors, tears welled in Kimberly’s eyes. Where had this stunning young woman come from?

  “It’s beautiful, Tara,” she managed to say past the lump in her throat. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Can I get it?”

  Kimberly nodded, thankful that she didn’t have to say no. God bless Janet for telling them about this store. And thank God for her temporary job.

  “What about accessories?” the sales clerk asked as Tara disappeared back into the dressing room.

  “Perhaps some shoes. Nothing else.” To herself she decided they would stop at Fred Meyer to get Tara a strapless bra before heading back to Kings Meadow, right after they enjoyed a nice, relaxing mother-daughter lunch.

  Kimberly sent up another quick prayer of thanks for the ever-increasing hope she was starting to feel in her heart.

  Anna

  1945

  ANNA FELL IN LOVE WITH ABE AND VIOLET’S BABY boy the instant she laid eyes on him.

  Richard George Leonard—named for his maternal and paternal grandfathers—bellowed at the top of his lungs, his eyes squeezed shut, his face bright red and blotchy. Although the midwife declared him one of the biggest babies she’d delivered over the years, he still looked small to Anna, especially when Violet passed him into her arms.

  Anna touched her fingers to the inky black hair on his head. It was as soft as down. She couldn’t help but draw him closer so she could kiss the top of his head.

  “Hello, Richie,” she whispered. “You are such a lucky baby. You’ve got a wonderful mommy and daddy. They’re going to love you and take care of you and watch you grow into a man. And I’m going to help them.”

  As if he understood, the baby stopped crying. After a couple of hiccups, he went to sleep.

  “Well, look at you, Anna,” Abe said. “Aren’t you the perfect big sister. Look at how he trusts you already.”

  She wouldn’t have thought anything could make her feel any happier, but being called Richie’s big sister did. God had given her a home and a family to care for her. He’d given her hope for the fulfillment of her daddy’s dream for Shiloh’s Star, and now He’d given her something she’d always wanted—a little brother.

  Anna passed the baby back to his mother, fighting hard not to let tears spill from her eyes.

  Someday, she hoped she would fall in love with a man like Abe Leonard. And when she did, she hoped they would have a dozen babies just as perfect as Richie Leonard.

  Fourteen

  ON SUNDAY, TWO DAYS AFTER THE BROTHERS’ FIST-FIGHT, Sam and Pete still weren’t speaking to each other. Chet was fed up with both boys, but he didn’t know what to do to improve matters. It didn’t help that Kimberly and Tara Welch were going to work with Anna in the cottage that afternoon. Chet wouldn’t have minded a longer cooling-off period before Tara came to the ranch again. He didn’t need another fight on his hands because of the girl.

  Okay, that wasn’t fair. None of this was Tara’s fault. At least not from anything he’d observed. If she liked Pete, it had more to do with their shared interest in horses than anything else. As for Sam, Chet hadn’t seen Tara spend much time with him at all when she was at the Leonard ranch. Perhaps it was different at school.

  “They just need a little time,” Anna had said yesterday. “Let the boys work it out themselves.”

  Easier said than done.

  Sam and Pete had always been close. Just ten months separated their birthdays. Sam’s was on the first of June, Pete’s the first of April. Almost like having twins, Marsha used to say of them, and that was pretty close to the truth. Although their appearances were different, they thought, spoke, and acted much the same.

  Their dinner that Sunday was another silent affair, the same as every family meal over the previous two days. Anna and Chet tried to get some kind of conversation going, but neither of the boys did anything but shoot daggers at each other with their eyes. Tension sucked most of the air out of the room. It was a relief for everyone when the meal was over. After the dishes were washed and dried, Sam disappeared up the stairs to his room to do homework. Pete went out to practice roping the life-size steer dummy set up in the field on the back side of the house.

  Anna patted Chet’s shoulder after the screen door swung closed. “It will be all right. You’ll see.”

  “I’ve never seen them like this.”

  “They’ll get over it.” She smiled briefly. “Now, I’m going outside to wait for Kimberly and Tara. They should be here any minute.”

  Chet couldn’t decide whether he should make himself scarce or not. Despite acknowledging the fight between brothers wasn’t Tara’s fault, he still wanted to blame the girl, and he didn’t care much for that less-than-charitable inclination. Better not let others see it, he figured. He opted to go into his office and close the door.

  Chet tried not to work on Sundays—not counting taking care of the needs of the livestock, of course. Animals didn’t know a Sunday from a Monday. They still needed food and water. Sometimes one of them needed doctoring. If a foal came in the middle of the night, Chet had to be there. It was all part of being a rancher, one he willingly accepted. But bookkeeping work on a Sunday was another matter. Still, it would keep him occupied for an hour or two and out of sight of the Welches, and that was what he wanted.

  He sat at his desk and fired up his computer. His electronics were getting a bit long in the tooth, something that happened mighty quickly these days. Seemed a person walked out of the computer store with the latest and greatest in his arms, and by the time he got it home, the next newest thing was being touted on the Internet and in television advertisements.

  He leaned back in his chair and released a soft groan as he closed his eyes. Another year and a summer and he would have a son in college. Two years and both of them would be off to college. He’d been putting a little away in their education funds since before they were born, but it wouldn’t be enough to cover four years each. Not even if they remained in Idaho for their schooling.

  He opened his eyes again and reached for the mouse, but the crunch of tires on gravel followed by the closing of car doors drew him up from his chair and to the window. Kimberly and Tara walked toward the house, side by side. Both of them wore their long, dark hair in ponytails. With it pulled back like that, Kimberly looked more like Tara’s sister than her mother.

  It bothered him that he noticed that. He wasn’t attracted to Kimberly. And even if he was, he wouldn’t act on it. Kimberly Welch didn’t plan to stay in Kings Meadow, which meant she was all wrong for him. Best he remember it.

  ABOUT TWO HOURS AFTER THEIR ARRIVAL AT THE ranch, Kimberly pulled a dusty sheet away from a piece of furniture in the center of the bedroom, revealing a wooden cradle. The craftsmanship was simple yet exquisite. An obvious heirloom.

  “Oh my word,” Anna said softly from the doorway. “I haven’t seen that since Chet was a baby.”

  “This wasn’t purchased in a s
tore.”

  “You’re right. It wasn’t. Chet’s grandfather Abe made it. I watched him make it.” Anna came to stand beside Kimberly, then reached out to give the small bed a push, setting it in motion. “I rocked Richie in this cradle often. Until he outgrew it. That seems like only yesterday.” Her voice softened. “I rocked Chet in it too.”

  Tara asked, “Did Sam and Pete use it when they were babies?” She turned away from the box she’d been sorting through.

  “I don’t know,” Anna answered. “I was living in Florida by that time. But I’m sure they and their older brother must have.”

  Tara’s eyes widened. “What older brother? I didn’t know there was another one. Where is he?”

  “Rick was killed in a car accident. Not quite three years ago.” Anna covered her mouth with her fingertips, as if trying to stop the sad words. “So tragic. For the whole family.”

  Kimberly’s chest hurt, thinking about what Chet must have gone through, losing a son like that. It was hard enough losing a spouse unexpectedly. But a child wasn’t supposed to die before his parent. It had to cause a special kind of grief.

  “Did I have a cradle, Mom? Did you keep some of my baby stuff?”

  Strange, how those words—so matter-of-factly asked—could sting. There had been things handed down in Kimberly’s family and in Ellis’s family that she would have loved to pass on to her daughter. She had saved Tara’s christening gown and her first pair of little shoes, among other items. Perhaps none had been as sentimental as this handmade cradle, but meaningful all the same. But they were gone now, casualties of a collapsing life. Keepsakes require a place to store things. Having a home foreclosed took away more than a place to live. She didn’t care for that reminder.