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I started to say something, stopped, and then started again. “I didn’t mean to hurt her, or any of you by leaving, I just didn’t want everyone looking at me like I was…”
My father finished the sentence for me. “Like you were crazy?”
Lifting my eyes, I met his hazel eyes and I felt ashamed. Nodding, I croaked out, “Yeah.”
My father spun me about until I was facing him completely. With a hand on each of my shoulders, he looked me straight in the eyes, in that intense, intimidating cowboy way of his. “Ain’t no one here ever thought you were crazy, Callie. We just…we thought maybe something was wrong, that you were trying to get attention, or trying to tell us something. We thought maybe the therapist would be able to help you.”
I felt the tears well up in my eyes, and I tried to look away, but one of my father’s big hands grabbed my chin, forcing me to face him. My chin wobbled, and I swallowed the thick lump of emotion clogging my throat. My voice cracked when I spoke.
“The therapist was an ass, and he didn’t help me. No one can help me. I’m sorry I put you through all of that.”
Now my father’s face turned stern. “Don’t you ever apologize for being who you are, Calamity. Just don’t ever expect the world to be perfect. None of us are infallible, and none of us are perfect. When a rose blooms, it can be lopsided, even a little blemished, but it’s still beautiful, right?”
I nodded, and a tear slipped down my cheek despite my struggle to keep them in. My dad’s face softened slightly. “Don’t expect perfection, little cowgirl. Expect blemishes, expect imperfections, and understand that mistakes and wrong choices will be made. It’s what you take from those choices, it is seeing past the blemish and to the beauty beyond that counts.”
I stared at my father. For an old cowboy, I realized he was an intensely feeling man. He seemed to understand the world around him with a simple clarity I could only hope to someday achieve. I wasn’t sure if it was wisdom of growing old that gave him such insight, or if my dad had always been this deep, but I was impressed and surprised.
My dad pulled me into a rough hug, because nothing and no one on a ranch was ever soft and gentle, and I released my breath. “I love you, Pa.”
The sun was coming up, its bright hues of pinks and golds painting the mountains that bordered our ranch in rich shades and highlighting the trees and golden grasses that swayed in the gentle breeze. I studied the smooth stones that made up the floor of the outdoor patio, the clean, sturdy wood frame of the pergola, and the wood furniture set up in the wide space. It was exactly as I remembered it, but it wasn’t exactly as my six-year-old mind had designed it. That knowledge left me feeling depressed and guilty. I should have finished it long ago. My mom loved flowers, roses especially.
She was sitting there in relaxed peace, a coffee mug in one hand, and the other stroking slowly through the soft fur of the puppy sleeping in her lap. Her long hair-which had once been pale blonde but was now white-was pulled back, twisted, and held up with a black claw clip, the rest of it falling gently. Her light blue eyes were focused on the view before her, and I was loath to bother her. Sidling past her, I sunk quietly into the chair beside her. Billy the Kid lifted his head, his brown multi-hued eyes turning to me lovingly, his little nub tail wiggling enthusiastically, and I willed him to stay where he was. With a little whine, he eventually lay his head back down, content to stare adoringly at me.
My mother, never one to beat around the bush, didn’t remove her gaze from the sun rising above grazing horses as she asked, “How long will you be staying this time, Calamity Jane?”
When the words left my mouth, I hadn’t expected to say them, hadn’t even been thinking them, but somehow, they seemed right. “I was thinking about staying for good.”
My mother’s jaw tensed, not the reaction I would have expected. Now, she moved her head, her cool gaze coming to settle on my face. Her eyes roved over me. “You’ve grown into a beautiful woman these past few years Calamity.”
I blushed, wondering what this had to do with me staying. “Thank you, Ma.”
“I don’t want you to think you have to change your decisions, that you have to stay just because of me.”
There was more meaning to what she was saying. I held her gaze, not backing down. “I will admit, it was worry for you that brought me home, but now that I’m here…I feel like it’s time for me to be home.”
Again, her jaw tensed, but this time, I understood it wasn’t anger or annoyance that caused the tick in the muscle. It was emotion. Moisture shimmered across her blue eyes, and I knew she was losing the battle she fought. “I don’t know what the tests will show, but I don’t intend to leave this world without a fight. I don’t think it’s my time to go.”
Now it was my turn to get blubbery. Tears dripped from my eyes, and I felt like an emotional mess. “No, it’s not your time, Mama. You haven’t gotten to watch me raise my babies.”
My mom and I embraced, both of us letting go of our sobs, Billy the Kid wriggling between our bodies. I could feel the puppies heightened awareness of us, of our emotions, and it washed through me in palpable waves, until it forced me to move away from my mom. Just as I did, his concern for us rose another level, and he released a mournful howl. The sound-coming from such a little pup-was rather pathetic, and my mom and I laughed. Sitting back down, I scooped him into my lap, and held him.
“He’s upset that we’re upset.” I met my mother’s eyes, testing the waters. She held my gaze and smiled.
“So, I heard. You know, if you’re planning to stay, there are a few things I expect from you Calamity Jane.”
I nodded. “Don’t worry, ma. I got up early to help you in the kitchen, and I’m going to pull my own weight, you don’t have to worry.”
My mother gave me an amused look. “That’s not at all what I meant. Your place isn’t, and has never been, in the kitchen, Calamity.”
I frowned. “Mom, I know I don’t exactly have a lot of expertise in the cooking department, but I promise to be helpful…”
My mom threw her head back and laughed. For a second, I stared at her, half frightened and half elated. I didn’t think I’d ever seen her laugh like that.
When she finished her deep belly laugh, she looked at me, frowning, and asked, “What?”
I laughed. “Nothing.”
“Anyway, you belong out here, helping your father. Cody’s a good hand, and he’s doing really well running the place, but he doesn’t quite know horses like you do. We’ve had bad luck with the brood mares these last few years. Stillborn colts, premature births, and abortion have cost us a lot of money. Your dads ready to sell off all the stock, but I don’t think he should. The mares we own have great lines. I need you to help him figure this out. I need you to accept that this pup is yours, and I need you to do one more thing.”
