first homesteader, Jacob McCray, waiting at the table while his wife, Emma, made supper on the cast iron stove.
Caught up in the vision, she conjured an image of herself in a long dress and apron, hair pinned atop her head in a bun. Mattie felt the yards of heavy material against her legs and heard the swish of her petticoat as it brushed against the floor. In her hand was a steaming pot of coffee, and when she turned to the table, there sat Gilbert McCray with a fork in his hand.
What a ridiculous thought!
Mattie rose from the hearth and paced the wooden floor. A large mahogany rocker invited her with open arms. She slid into the contoured seat and rocked her puppy, cuddling him beneath a crocheted afghan made from granny squares. The smell of age and use enfolded them as the fire crackled and popped.
She glanced about the room at the many items delivered to her by her parents and was struck by sadness at everything she had lost in the fire. Her childhood pictures, her college diploma, the china given to her after her grandmother’s death. Then she noticed the Bible her parents left lying on the nightstand.
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy . . . For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
MONDAY MORNING, GIL CALLED HIS FATHER FROM THE FOUNDATION headquarters. This time he answered on the fourth ring. “Hey, Dad, I tried to reach you all weekend. I couldn’t get through to Dr. Evans, either. Have you heard how Dusty’s doing?”
“Good morning to you too.” His father’s voice grated over the long distance connection.
“Is everything okay? With you, I mean?”
“We both know you don’t care about my health.”
Gil clicked his ink pen on the desk. “You’re wrong, Dad. I do care.”
“Well, that don’t matter now. Mattie’s clinic burned down a couple nights ago. She lost everything.”
Gil dropped the pen. “You’re kidding! How did that happen?”
“Still waiting on the inspector’s report. Mattie had to spend the night at the hospital for a few minor burns and smoke inhalation, but she’s okay. So is Dusty. We moved ’em out to stay with us until she can afford to rebuild.”
Gil leaned in his chair and tried to digest this news, particularly the part about Mattie being in the hospital. His stomach tightened. “She’s at the ranch now?”
“What’s the matter?” His father’s voice barked into the receiver. “You got corncobs in your ears?”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, her staying at the ranch?” Gil’s suspicions about the doc and his dad returned full force. He shook his head and frowned, trying to shake them.
“She’s setting up office here, scrubbing things good and clean.”
Gil pictured the red-haired doctor doing just that. “Is she okay?”
His father wheezed into the phone, and Gil wondered how he was handling all the commotion.
“She’s a tough lady. Tougher than most.”
Gil reached inside his pants pocket and ran his fingers along the smooth metal watch hidden there. He blew out a long breath and recalled his coach’s words about reconciliation. His sense of duty dictated his next words. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Jake and I finished putting up shelves in the tack room for Mattie’s new supplies. We have everything under control.”
The hairs on Gil’s neck stirred. “You don’t have any business toting around a hammer. Next, you’ll tell me you’re ready to ride horses or fix fence.”
Dr. Evans should know better than to allow his father to push himself so hard. That she hadn’t objected disturbed Gil. What else might the pretty doc persuade the old man to do? “Sounds like you need me there. I’d better have my secretary arrange a flight home,” he said before he had a chance to think it through.
“Don’t get yourself all tied in a knot. No reason for you to hurry home.”
It didn’t surprise him that his dad didn’t want him there. The prospect of returning to Charris County didn’t make Gil tingle all over, either. He’d have to put the purchase of his land on hold.
Another delay.
He pulled the silver timepiece from his pocket and watched the second hand click past each successive number. “If it’s all right with you, I think I’ll stay a couple of months this time — if you can stand to have me around that long?”
His dad grunted. Gil took that as a yes.
SEVENTEEN
TWO DAYS LATER, GIL ARRIVED AT HIS FATHER’S RANCH IN A NEW Dodge