Page 91 of Heart & Hope

“It’s hard watching them ride off, knowing they won’t be back for an entire week. Living in the snow and elements. I don’t know if I could get used to that.”

She stops inside the white gate and turns back. “You don’t, hon, but this life asks things of us that most folks don’t comprehend. And in return, we are blessed with all this.” She waves her arms out, and I stare off at the mountains, the ranch, and all its parts. This family that I have come to love more than my own, oddly.

“I’m starting to understand that.”

She smiles at me and touches my cheek. “Come now. Coffee will do the trick. This old woman needs sustenance.”

I follow as she wanders inside and pours two cups of coffee. When she hands one to me and sinks into her seat at the kitchen table, I do the same, sitting in Reed’s spot.

“How do you get used to this life?” I ask.

Louisa runs my question through her mind, the effects visible on her face as she takes a sip and swallows. “Well, it helps if you want it—this life, that is. It’s not for everyone. The isolation. The long, hard days; long, hard seasons. But...”

I stare at her, holding my breath like the next words she will say may change everything I ever thought I knew.

She leans forward. “This isn’t the life I had planned when I was young. Nowhere near it.”

I’m stunned.

I can’t imagine Louisa anywhere else.

“What—” I shake my head. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, I had big plans. I even left, determined to earn a life in the media—TV chef, that sort of thing—in LA.” She waves a hand, as if California is over to the left of us. “I worked my tail off to earn a spot on a cooking television program. I thought I had made it. It was what I had wanted my entire life. And then, it wasn’t.”

“What happened?”

“I couldn’t do it. I froze up on set. Every time. The pressure, it would...” She dips her attention to her cup, as if the words could be swirling inside the dark brown liquid, waiting to be fished out. “I panicked each time the guy behind the camera gave the signal to start. It was like I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t keep on my feet, or steady. The room felt like it was cavin’ in, you know.”

I stare at her, mouth agape. Anxiety. From everything I have read, it is usually hereditary. Louisa has it. Or had it. Reedhasit.

“Well, that was it for my big TV cooking career. Guess I’m no Martha Stewart.” Her words are lined with a chuckle, but the ghost of regret covers her face.

“Martha Stewart has nothing on you, Lou. You are a real, living, breathing cooking legend. Everyone who has had your food would take that over some shiny celebrity food any day ofthe week.” I slide my hand across the table and take hers. She smiles and tilts her head.

“Ruby.” She turns her hand over so it folds around mine. “You are always part of this family. You know that, don’t you?”

I still. The air in my lungs stalls out. I’m barely part of my own family, let alone one as tight-knit as this one. But she isn’t going to take no for an answer, by the look on her face. So I nod, and she squeezes my hand.

“Good. Now, what time is your flight?”

“In four hours.”

“How about you and I do some shopping, and then I will drop you at the airport?”

“That sounds wonderful, Lou.”

She beams, looking so much like her youngest son. My heart almost grinds to a halt.

“Excellent, it’s been an age since I hit the shops.”

I recover and laugh as I rise, taking our mugs to the sink. A moment later, she is changed, and we head to the barn where the Chevy that Harry and Louisa take to town is parked. It’s silver, and the inside is nearly as fancy as Reed’s truck. I toss my bags onto the back seat, and she starts it up, buckling in.

The drive is fun. We chat about the boys and the ranch, and she quizzes me about New York City and my work. She asks questions that I’m excited to answer. My parents are not interested in my “silly little party-planning job.” If it’s not high-end, it doesn’t count. Little do they know the companies and budgets we work with. But it’s okay; it’s better this way. I have my life. They have theirs. No need to mix the two.

The Great Falls shops are quaint, but Lou and I have fun regardless. I buy her a bottle of perfume that she swears Harry would skin her alive for buying, and she folds me into her hug. God, I am going to miss this woman. Almost as much as I’ll miss her son.

We are back in the car when I have an idea.

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