Lone Heart Pass. Jodi Thomas
She smiled. He’s definitely not too bright, she decided. No raincoat. No umbrella. Hopefully he’d know more about running a ranch than he did about coming in from out of the rain.
He opened the side door to his truck and reached in.
For a moment she wondered what one last thing he’d carry inside. What had he gone back into town for on this rainy night?
He lifted something out slowly, carefully, wrapped in his work coat. The bundle leaned over his shoulder, molding against his form.
In wide, slow steps he walked through the mud. One hand tucked beneath the bundle. One hand placed in the middle as if holding his treasure close to his heart.
Jubilee stood and watched, surprised and touched as she saw thin pale arms slip from beneath the coat and wrap around his neck.
He’d mentioned a daughter when he’d asked if a school bus passed her place.
In the last blink of faraway lightning, Jubilee saw Charley Collins in a whole new light. He might not have much. His clothes were worn. His pickup old. But the man obviously had one thing he treasured. His daughter.
Charley
THE HOUSE OVER by the corral was dusty and completely empty except for a stove and old refrigerator Charley was surprised still worked. The place looked as if no one had lived in it for years but the bones of the house were solid. At one time someone had loved this place. The molding was hand carved around the doors, and cabinets were crafted carefully. The place was solid. He had a feeling it would stand any storm.
Charley worked into the night cleaning out the four-room house while Lillie slept. Ike, his old boss, had helped deliver what little furniture he had while his crazy new boss was probably taking her morning nap. The bar owner kept telling Charley that he was making a mistake accepting a job from a woman who wouldn’t last six months on the land, but at this point in his life Charley figured one more mistake wouldn’t matter.
With a free place to live and twice the money he usually made, he could build his savings. He could plan for someday.
He’d put up the bed before dark so Lillie would have a place to sleep when he picked her up. Charley didn’t want her to see the place dirty. When she woke, their new home would be clean and her tiny play kitchen would be set up in one corner of the living room.
Finally, about 3:00 a.m. he had everything stocked and put away. The house was so sparsely furnished it didn’t look like much of a home. One couch. One bed. An old dresser someone had given him a year back. A card table and four chairs for a dining table. A rocker painted white that he’d bought the day his baby girl was born.
The house was bigger than the apartment they’d been in. Two bedrooms, even though one was empty. The house had a front porch where Lillie could play and a back porch where he could watch the sunset.
After he checked on Lillie, he stood out on the back porch and smiled. Fresh air. Open space. Silence. Someday, he’d have a place like this, but for now, working here was about as good as he could hope for. No more smelly bar or worrying whether he’d have enough odd jobs to make the bills. Now, with luck, he could save most of his salary. Maybe in a year he’d have enough to pay down on a place of his own.
He’d talked things over with Sharon’s parents. Now that they were both retired, they wanted to keep Lillie a few nights during the week, at least until summer. On the other days they promised to pick her up from school if the weather was bad or the school bus’s rural route wasn’t running.
He didn’t like not tucking her in every night, but on those two days she stayed in town he could work here until dark. Putting in a couple of fifteen-hour days would make the rest of the week lighter.
The Lees had turned Sharon’s old room into Lillie’s playroom. Here she only had a few toys, but at their house Lillie had a roomful. This time, he’d make her room more like a little girl’s room. He might have no idea how to raise a little girl, but he’d learn.
This ranch didn’t have much of a chance of making it, but he planned to give it his best shot. If they could make it through the summer, they might survive, but he’d need to think of a way to have money coming in now to help cover expenses.
As he stared out into the night, he swore he saw an army green raincoat marching across the open field between the main house and the end of the corral. For a moment he thought it was a flash from an old World War II film, then he saw long white legs and what had to be white socks.
Jubilee Hamilton. Taking yard-wide steps across the mud as if she were measuring it off.
Lightning flashed. The promise of more rain scented the air. His insane employer marched on, her damp blond hair plastered to her skull as the coat flapped in the wind.
He thought of going after her, but decided to just watch. Who knows, her kind of crazy might be catching. It was three o’clock in the morning and she was out walking. If she got hit by lightning, Charley decided he’d simply bury her and keep working the ranch.
Finally, exhaustion from a long day of moving from one kind of life to another got the better of him and Charley slipped inside, closing out any thought of his boss, as he closed the door to his new home.
An hour later in the stillness of his bed on the couch, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Something drew him to Jubilee even if he didn’t want to admit it. She seemed so lost. So alone. She wasn’t the kind of woman he’d ever be interested in, but deep down he wanted to help her make this place work. He’d taken this job to save himself, but he had to make it work. Not just for Lillie and him. For her, too.
Jubilee Hamilton needed to believe in something. Maybe the dream of this place working or maybe just herself.
One line she’d said earlier kept swirling in his mind. She’d said this was her last chance. Then, she’d closed up as though she hadn’t meant to say so much.
He understood last chances. He’d been living in that valley so long he thought he owned the place.
Charley closed his eyes. Who was he kidding? He was no knight in shining armor. But maybe just this once, he’d give it a try. If he failed at this quest, it wouldn’t be from lack of trying.
The next morning, by the time he drove back from taking Lillie to Sharon’s folks’ place, he’d decided not to mention having seen Jubilee Hamilton out walking. If she was crazy, she’d deny it. If she wasn’t, she might think he was spying on her.
He rushed into her kitchen, in a hurry to get started working. He was surprised to see that she’d made oatmeal and toast. The coffee even smelled drinkable today.
“Morning,” he nodded as he waited for her to sit down. She was dressed pretty much the same as yesterday, but she’d added a moth-eaten sweater. She’d also combed her hair and tied it in an ugly little knot that looked like a bulldog’s bobbed tail. It crossed his mind that she must have to work at it to look this homely.
She handed him his coffee and sat down across the table. “So before we get started, I have a few things that need doing.”
He leaned back, sipping his coffee.
“Can you turn on the water to the washer out in that little shed behind the house? I need to do laundry.”
“I can show you how,” he answered. “It’ll need to be turned off if there is any chance of freezing.”
“Fair enough.” She passed him one piece of toast. “Next, I want to plant a garden whenever the time is right. A big garden with all kinds of vegetables.”
“Did you ever grow anything?”
She shook her head. “No, but how hard could it be?”
“I’ve got a few books packed away on gardening that my mother used to make me read but we could ask Donald at the feed store. He’d know what would grow best here.” Charley grinned when her eyes lit up. “I could run a line from the horse trough