She lived in a cottage with Zona on the ranch, and Bishop usually brought her the salad and they ate at her house.
He wasn’t sure if the other brothers knew he had one-on-one lunches with Mother, and he didn’t care if they did. He needed them, and he wouldn’t apologize for centering his soul and aligning his thoughts when they got crooked and out of place.
“I heard about the fire,” she said, and Bishop glanced at her before he looked over his shoulder to pull out.
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s still burning, but it’s contained. There aren’t any more houses in danger, and we’ve got men watching our borders to make sure it doesn’t come onto Shiloh Ridge.”
“Donald said they’d have it out by tonight,” she said.
“Oh, have you been callin’ in your favors with the fire chief?” Bishop asked, teasing her.
Mother reached up and patted her perfectly set hair. “Perhaps.”
“Momma,” Bishop said. He’d expected her to admit it, but he hadn’t expected her to be so proper about it. He stared openly as a hint of a flush worked its way up her neck and into her face.
“Momma,” he said again, his heartbeat crashing against his ribs. “Are you sweet on Donald Parker?”
“Pish posh,” Momma said, scoffing as she turned away from him. She curled the fingers of one hand around the back of her neck. “I just don’t want the fire to reach Shiloh Ridge.”
Bishop started to chuckle, though he honestly wasn’t sure how he felt about his mother having a crush. She was seventy-eight-years-old, and Daddy had been gone for fifteen years.
As far as Bishop knew, none of her children had ever asked her if she wanted to date again. She’d never brought it up. He’d been so young, and he hadn’t even started his year of living like a cowboy on the ranch, earning the same rate they paid their men, and living in the same cabins.
After he’d done that, he’d moved back into the homestead with Mother, Arizona, and Bear. That had only sufficed for a couple of years, and then Bishop had finished his carpentry training and finished the cottage where Zona and Mother lived now.
“I think you just lied to me, Mother,” he said. His chest squeezed tightly though. He cleared his throat. “If you marry him, can I still go to lunch with you?”
“I’m not going to marry him,” Mother said with so much force that Bishop believed her. “Even if I did, you would always be able to come have lunch with me.” She reached over and put her hand on his forearm. “I know how much you need them.”
He nodded, because he couldn’t argue with her.
“So tell your mother what’s eating at you this time.”
“It’s nothing, Mother,” he said, though it was something.
“I don’t judge, Bishop,” she said. “You best take your cares to John if you want someone to make a judgment.”
“He doesn’t judge either, Mother.” It was why John went by Judge. He was like the apostle—any judgments he did make were righteous, and always spot-on. Bishop had never gone wrong when he’d gone to Judge for help.
“I know,” she said. “None of you do, which is why it’s troubling to me that you feel like you don’t fit.”
“It’s just that everyone has a person,” Bishop said, trying to find the right way to explain it this month. It wasn’t like this was the first time he and his mother had spoken of this.
“Ward and Ace. Judge and Mister. Bear and Ranger. Cactus and Bear. Heck, Ward and Bear. Ace and Bear.” He turned away from his mother. “Everyone loves Bear.”
“Of course everyone loves Bear,” Mother said. “He messes up all the time, son. And he’s real, and he’s apologetic, and he works hard to do better. That endears him to them.”
“So you’re saying I have to be meaner? And then apologize?”
“No,” she said. “I’m saying you have to be Bishop, not Bear.”
“That makes no sense, Mother.”
“You have a person too,” she said. “Ace.”
Bishop nodded, because he and Ace did get along really well.
“And Cactus. That man would be lost without you, and don’t you forget it,” Mother said, her voice turning dark. “I don’t think it’s any coincidence that he lets exactly two people come to his cabin—you and Bear. You’re more like your eldest brother than you think you are.”
Bishop didn’t respond, because he didn’t know what that meant either. He and Bear were nothing alike. In fact, Bishop had done as much as he could to