The Construction of Cheer - Liz Isaacson Page 0,78
he’s two minutes out,” Oliver said. “Should we wait on the porch?”
“Sure,” Aurora said, opening the door again.
Montana did hurry forward then. She gathered her daughter into a hug and slung one arm around Oliver too. “You guys be careful up there, okay?”
“We will, Mom,” Aurora said.
“Work hard,” she said next. “You’re working with adults who expect you to listen and do what you’re told. You’re working with animals who deserve your respect.” She stepped back and cocked her eyebrows at the pair of them. “This isn’t summer camp or some sort of ranch date.”
“Mom,” Aurora said.
“No, ma’am,” Oliver said. “You’re right. We’ll work hard.”
“Be polite.”
“Mom, stop it.”
“I won’t,” Montana said, actually enjoying her daughter’s embarrassment. “Remember who’s name you carry. It’s mine, Aurora. I might have a job at Three Rivers one day, and I don’t want them whispering about how my daughter wasn’t a hard-working, perfectly polite, absolute joy to work with.”
“Mom.”
“And your family surely expects something from you, Oliver,” she said, looking at him.
“They sure do,” he said. “We’ll be polite.”
“Perhaps you two could keep working there if you do a good job this summer,” Montana said. “Never underestimate the value of connections.”
“We won’t, Mom,” Aurora said, her eyes bright. She stepped into Montana and hugged her again. “I love you.”
“Love you too, baby,” Montana whispered. She nodded at Oliver, who smiled at her. “If you guys get a lunch, call me. I don’t think I can stand to wait until tonight to hear how it’s going.”
“Okay.” With that, Aurora stepped outside, with Oliver following her. He closed the door behind him, but it stuck, and it didn’t latch all the way.
“She’s so embarrassing,” Montana heard Aurora say.
“Nah,” Oliver said. “She’s great, Rory. I like her a lot.”
“I know,” Aurora said while Montana thought Rory? Who in the devil is Rory?
“You’re lucky you have her,” Oliver said, and Montana pressed her face against the crack in the door, hoping to see them. She couldn’t. “My step-dad gave me the same lecture on the way over. My mom did it over breakfast. They just care about us, and they want the best for us.”
Oh, this Oliver was wise too. Good-looking. Charming. Hard-working. Smart. Well-spoken. And wise.
No wonder Aurora was head-over-heels for him, and Montana started to pray that he wouldn’t break her daughter’s heart. But they were fifteen. Broken hearts were inevitable at that age, weren’t they?
“There’s Uncle Wyatt.”
Montana opened the door then and stepped out onto the porch as the teens went down the steps. Wyatt pulled parallel to the house and rolled down his window. “Morning, Montana.”
“Thank you, Wyatt,” she called to him, waving one hand above her head.
“I’ll keep my eye on ‘em,” he said as they went around to get in on the passenger side. “I’ve got your number. You’ve got mine.”
“Yep.”
He waved then, and with everyone loaded, off they went. Montana watched until the truck turned, and she couldn’t see it anymore. “Dear Lord,” she said aloud, but she couldn’t continue the prayer. God knew what she wanted—protection, safety, help, blessings.
“Come on, darling,” Aunt Jackie said. “You haven’t even had your coffee yet, and you’ve got to get up to Shiloh Ridge. It’s the last day of painting at the Ranch House, and then you’ll get to install your cabinets.”
Montana let her aunt guide her inside and serve her coffee and cinnamon-sugar toast. She hugged Uncle Bob as he rushed out to the store, and then she got in her truck and headed up to the ranch that had been a saving grace for her these past few months.
Not only was Bishop paying her a whole lot more than her daily rate, but she got to see her boyfriend every day. She got to feed off the energy of the land. She got to watch the cowboys work and realize how much she loved Texas, her country, and God, just like all of them.
She got to see Bear dote on Sammy, and she’d watched Ranger take soup up to Oakley when she wasn’t feeling well. She’d watched him leave the ranch to check on his wife at the dealership she owned when she went back to work after her bout with the flu.
She loved the examples of good living and caring about others she saw at Shiloh Ridge.
And she got to do what she’d trained and loved to do more than anything—build. Design cabinets and pantries, then make them come to life out of flat planks of wood.