More to Texas than Cowboys. Roz Fox Denny
still cared first and foremost for each other. Then came their devotion to church, jobs, and last to their only child. A mother herself now, Greer didn’t think she’d ever subscribe to that concept. She’d never let Shelby take a back seat to anyone or anything. If ever she met a man she’d consider marrying, he’d have to understand going in that her love would be divided equally. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been such a shock that her parents had shipped her off to live with a stern, rigid aunt. Greer had always been a tagalong in her parents’ lives.
Following Loretta and Shelby as they chatted about inconsequential things throughout a depressing tour of the house, cottages, bunkhouse and a barn that had no door at all, Greer wondered if in coming home she’d made the second mistake of a lifetime. Had she idealized this opportunity? Was she crazy to think it spelled a future for Shelby?
True, the mayor had been a huge cheerleader for her program, but truer still, Greer had latched on to the deal with gusto.
Over the next hour as the trio worked together, her worries began to fade. Her mom’s chatter spurred Greer over her disappointment with the dilapidated place.
“I have a bolt of cloth at home guaranteed to brighten this kitchen,” Loretta said. “Greer, come help me measure these windows. Tonight I’ll sew up red-and-white-checked valances and curtains. Add a coat of white enamel to these cupboards, and your guests will gravitate to this room.”
Greer accepted one end of the tape measure. As she did so, a blue GMC pickup pulled in. Within seconds, Homestead’s mayor bore down on the house, swinging a galvanized bucket swathed in a bright red ribbon in one hand; in the other she carried a steaming pie plate. Shelby ran to open the door.
A tall woman who could be called statuesque, Miranda Wright wore jeans with panache. Her mink-brown ponytail swept her shoulders as she thrust the bucket into Greer’s hands. “Welcome to Homestead. I could’ve brought you a plant, but you’ll get more use out of a hammer, nails, screwdriver, paintbrushes, gloves and assorted tools. The dried-peach pie is courtesy of my mother, Nan. Oh, Loretta, hi. You know how Mom loves to bake. I assume my able escort is none other than Shelby?” A yellow Lab trotting at Miranda’s heels claimed Shelby’s attention. “That’s Dusty,” Miranda said, then asked a question about school. As Shelby petted the dog, they discussed the local elementary. Miranda said, “How cool is it that your grandma teaches math at the high school across the street from where you’ll be going?”
“I didn’t know that.” Shelby’s hand hovered over the dog. “So maybe I won’t feel so bad not knowing any kids. At the store in town, Mama met a man who invited us to church. He said I’d meet kids my age. But Mama said we can’t go, ’cause we’ve got so much work here.”
Miranda, who noticed Greer staring at something outside the kitchen window, stepped over to have a look. “Ah, I wondered what was so engaging. Looks good, huh? That’s Noah Kelley, exercising one of his horses by the river. Is he the man Shelby meant? Did he mention he bought one of the two mini-ranches bordering the eastern edge of your property?”
“What?” Greer spun around, wearing a frown.
Miranda just grinned. “Yeah, I know his mom’s on the Home Free committee, but the ranchettes aren’t part of our package. Anyway, he didn’t want to displace his folks from the rectory, since they’ve lived there for probably forty years. Neither did he want to move home, which I’m sure you can understand.”
Feeling confused, Greer slipped out to the back porch, where she was able to identify that the rider was indeed Father Kelley. “I thought you said my property butted up against Clint Gallagher’s grassland,” she muttered.
Miranda pointed in the opposite direction. “Yes, and you’ll probably need to rebuild those buckled fence sections. The senator opposed our land giveaway. Another thing—I know the guy you worked for in Colorado recommended you run sheep instead of cattle, but old-time cattlemen are never comfortable having sheep move in. Clint rents deer leases, too. I’m sure you realize hunting season’s right around the corner.”
“Gr…eat!” Greer blew her bangs out of her eyes. She’d rather fence off Noah Kelley, who was actually trespassing. However, if she did that, she’d cut her stock off from water. What had made this ranch so appealing was its proximity to the Clear River.
Her attention remained focused on Noah, who sat the pinto like a seasoned cowboy. Her insides curled, and Greer almost missed her mom calling from inside the kitchen that she had to leave. Hurrying to walk Loretta out, Greer saw Noah’s home, visible through a stand of weeping cypress nearer the river. A long-ball pitcher could, without much effort, smack his brick chimney, which gleamed in the nearly noontime sun. Miranda whistled for Dusty, announcing that she had to leave, too, and Greer thanked both women for stopping by. As they turned their vehicles around, she wondered what had possessed her to think Homestead could be her utopia. Every bit of her old baggage, plus some that was new, had already begun piling up on her doorstep.
But Father Kelley did indeed look good….
CHAPTER TWO
GREER’S VISITORS exited her lane, headed toward Homestead and soon disappeared. Rotating her neck a few times to ease a growing tension, Greer glanced back at her ranch and sighed. Outside, the house looked no different, but somehow felt lonelier.
“When’s our furniture going to get here, Mama?” Shelby skipped alongside Greer as they again climbed the steps to the wraparound porch.
“The company estimated late afternoon, honeybun. We have time to get a lot of work done before they show up with our things.”
“Dontcha think this is the perfect spot to hang the porch swing the Sandersons gave us? It’s in the Blazer. We can hang it now, can’t we?”
“That’s a great idea, Shelby. It’ll put our mark on this place and make it feel homey. I’ll fetch the swing. See if you can locate that package of screws Miranda brought. Then I’ll grab the ladder I saw when we toured the bunkhouse.”
The task of hanging the swing proved to be anything but easy. Greer had worked up a sweat by the time she got the last screw into the knotty pine planking someone had installed as a porch ceiling. But, once she’d succeeded in wrestling the slatted swing onto its chain hangers, the effect was wonderfully inviting. She and Shelby ran into the yard to admire their handiwork, all the while grinning at each other.
“I get to try it out first,” Shelby shouted. She charged up the steps, then suddenly stopped short to stare into the distance at the horse and rider, once again visible by the river. “I sure do wish Mr. Kelley would ride up here to see us. That’s a pretty horse he has. Do you think he’d give me a ride?”
“Shelby, you need to call him Father Kelley, not mister.”
“He’s not my father.” The girl pouted a little.
“No. The title Father is like saying Doctor. It shows respect.”
“Does it mean I can’t ask to ride his horse?”
Greer reluctantly looked over at Noah Kelley. He’d dismounted and was letting the animal drink from a shallow spot. “It’s not as if he’s a friend. Even if he rides out our way, I’d rather you didn’t ask him for favors. Anyway, remember the sooner we make progress getting our home livable, the quicker we’ll bring in our horses. How about if I let you decide what room we start cleaning next?”
“Cleaning’s no fun,” Shelby grumbled. “Grandma said before she left that we need to wash all the windows. Especially the ones in the kitchen so that when she brings the curtains tomorrow we can hang them.”
“Are you sure you want to wash windows? I’m going to put white vinegar in the water to cut through the grime built up on the glass. I know you hate the way vinegar smells.”
Shelby wrinkled her nose. Trooper that she was, she reached for the second bucket.
“Let’s do the inside first, Shel. Then I’ll change the water and we can start outside.