Page 59 of True North

Ma fusses over Lou in the old ranch kitchen. They are busy unpacking boxes, working out where they want things to go. I like seeing them together. They are like two peas in a pod. Does somethin’ to my insides watching them.

“Where do you want your big pots, Rosie?” Louisa asks, pulling two from a deep box.

“Oh, hon, under the sink, you think?” Ma studies the bare-bones kitchen, hands on her hips. Louisa bends, placing the pots where instructed, and takes her next order. I’ve never seen my mother so animated. So determined. It’s good. It’s better.

“Harry, could you grab the last few boxes from the truck?” Ma tosses over her shoulder, arms deep in a box herself.

“Sure.” I unstack the chairs and set them around the old hardwood dining table on the other side of the large kitchen dining area, on the hearth side. I slide the captain’s chair in at the head of the table. “Lou, give us a hand?”

“Yeah, gimme a sec.” She finishes sorting cutlery into a drawer and rounds the counter. Ma smiles at us as we cross the threshold onto the porch.

Lou glances back. “It’s so great to see her happy, Harry.”

“Sure is.”

We walk to the buckboard parked under the closest old tree. When we’re out of sight, I crowd her against it.

She huffs a breathy laugh and slides her arms around my neck. “I’m glad you’re happy, too.”

“Got everything a man needs. Hard work, sunshine... woman.”

My gaze drops to her mouth as it curls into a sweet smile. I dip down to claim her lips as mine, but a fine finger halts my progress. I look up at lit green eyes.

“I’m not moving in with you, mister,” Lou rasps, then offers up a sad smile.

“But you are part owner...” I lean back, still wrapped around her.

She chuckles. “That is not why I helped you at the auction. Besides, Mama Mancini needs me. And I don’t—” She rubs a thumb over my jaw. “I need my own place for a while. To ground myself. You know what I mean?”

I nod.

But the lump in my throat renders me speechless. I want her everywhere. I want her beside me on this ranch. I want to build a life with Louisa. And if it was up to me, there’d be no waitin’.

“This is not me running, I promise. Okay? And we can see each other every day, like we do now. I need to make something for myself, too.”

Her eyes are pleading.

How can I say no?

How selfish have I been, thinkin’ of only what I want?

Hell, it’s the reason she ran in the first place. I never once asked her what she wanted—I assumed. Like I did with the ranch offer. I’m a goddamn fool.

“If that’s what you need, darlin’, I’ll give it to you and anything else.”

Her worried face tips up with a glimmer of happiness. And she sends her hands through my hair before pulling my mouth to hers. I sink into her like it’s a place I never wanna leave.

She opens, and I take it all.

A small voice clears a short distance away.

Louisa pushes back.

I hold her steady, turning around. “Jesus, Ma.”

“I thought you must have gotten lost, or have those boxes been long forgotten?” She smiles, her eyebrows raised. The mirth covering her face is priceless. Lou’s face reddens as if caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Sorry, Rosie,” Louisa says, manhandling a box from the buckboard and into her arms. I follow suit and walk the last box into the house. Ma stays out in the yard, staring up into the trees. The old branches are gnarled and twisted like they have weathered one too many storms. From the kitchen counter, I watch as she talks to herself, sending whatever prayer she’s sayin’ up into the great canopy of the tree.

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