Page 17

The dust was flying behind Maggie’s car as she came down the driveway. Sonny heard her coming, got up from the table where he’d been paying bills, and headed for the back porch to carry in her purchases.

She parked and got out with a smile on her face. “I’m going back to work tomorrow,” she said.

He kissed the top of her head and then walked her into the house. “Think you’re ready, do you?”

“Yes. I told Pearl. She’s so excited, and so am I. And I wouldn’t mind seeing you walk in now and then, too.”

He winked. “I’ll try not to make a pest of myself.”

“You may get fed up with me leaving for work at 5:00 a.m. I’m starting off at a half day, and if I don’t give out, it’s back on the regular schedule.”

“I have something I need your opinion on. Would you walk out to the front with me?”

“Sure,” she said, and took his hand as they went down the steps and out into the yard.

Then Sonny stopped, and they turned around to face the house.

“The north end of the house is also the driveway to the back, so if we built your art studio on to the south end, and added an extra bedroom and bath while we were at it for company, would that be giving you good light?”

She frowned. “Why would you be doing all that? It’s just a hobby.”

“Not any more it’s not. Max Andros called me while you were in town. He’s lost his mind over how good your work is. Can’t believe you’re only twenty-six. Is stunned that you’ve had no formal training. Says you paint in the style that reminds him of Andrew Wyeth, whoever the hell that is, and that you have more color and movement in your work, but he sees the same solitude and empathy and emotion. He wants to come meet you and see the stuff in person. He wants to take some of it back to get framed and ready for an art show to introduce you and your work to the art world. He says he’s going to make you rich and famous.”

Maggie’s legs went out from under her. Had Sonny not been standing so close she would have hit the ground on her butt. He caught her inches shy of the landing.

“Honey, are you okay?”

Her heart was pounding. “Is this a joke?”

He frowned. “No. I would never make a joke about that. He’s for real. I know him. He has some photos of me riding bulls in his studio in the Western section of his gallery. He was elated to find out you hadn’t shown them to anyone else. He wants the exclusive to introduce you to the art world, as he puts it.”

She took a quick breath, then looked up at him. “Oh. My. God.”

He grinned, and kissed the tip of her nose. “Is now the time when I can say, I told you so?”

“Sonny, I don’t know what to think, or what to say, or what to do.”

“Don’t worry about it for now. Wait until you meet him in person and let him explain it all to you. You have a gift, Magnolia. A rare and amazing gift given to few. You won’t just be Sonny Bluejacket’s wife, and I will be known as Magnolia Brennen’s husband.”

Tears were rolling down her face.

“Don’t cry, darlin’, this is wonderful news,” Sonny said.

“I was always drawing, and getting yelled at for wasting paper where I was living, and remembering all of the times when a teacher would snatch a drawing from my desk and gave me detention for playing in class, even though I’d already finished my work.”

The stricken look on her face killed him. “I’m sorry that happened. But look at the payback you’re going to dish out when your name becomes known in such a distinguished portion of society. The art world, baby…you’re already in and you have yet to experience the rush of seeing your work hanging on gallery walls. I’m so proud of you I could bust. Now look at this house again. Emmit did what he wanted to it. Now it’s our turn to add what we need.”

She wiped the tears from her face and looked back at the house again.

“Big windows facing the east for light,” she said.

“And more windows facing the west for the sunsets,” he added.

A slow smile spread across her face. “Yes, for the sunsets.”

Sonny nodded. “And real wooden shutters that can be closed when it hails.”

Then she frowned. “What about Pearl? What about the Yellow Rose?”

“What was she doing with it before you got dumped on her steps?” he asked.

She smiled. “Taking care of business.”

“You’re not going to stop being her girl. You’ll still see her, and she’ll still be the mother you never had, and the grandmother to our kids, whether she likes it or not,” Sonny said. “She’s going to celebrate your success as much as you will. I can hear her now, pointing to one of your originals hanging on the wall at the Rose. ‘That’s a Magnolia Brennen original. She’s my girl.’”

Maggie sighed. “You’re right. I’m just having a hard time picturing myself as an artist.”

“Well, how about you just remember you are Magnolia, and you know what you’re doing. Titles don’t mean a thing. It’s what’s inside you that counts. I know you just came from town, but I need to go back and pick up some horse feed. Do you want to come with, or would you rather rest?”

“I’m too hyped to close my eyes. I’ll come with you. I just need to wash up first.”

***

They’d already been to the feed store and had several sacks of oats loaded into the back of Sonny’s truck, then gone straight into Belker’s Grocery. They had just moved from the deli section into the bread aisle when another shopper appeared in the aisle, moving toward them.

Sonny barely gave him a glance, but Maggie saw the man’s face flush a bright red as he made a U-turn in the aisle, and disappear.

“That’s called a guilty conscience,” Maggie said.

Sonny looked up. “What did I miss?”

“The guy who just started down this aisle saw you and booked it,” she said.

“Why? Who was it?”

“Del Kincaid. The man who bought the stolen horses off of Wade Sutton.”

Sonny shrugged. “He’s suffering the consequences of his actions. Nothing to do with me. And he’s either out on bail, or got off with a fine and probation, likely the latter. For men like him, money talks. I got my horses back, anyway. Which bread do you want?” he asked.

“Which is your favorite?” she asked.

“Auntie’s fry bread,” he said, and then grinned. “You pick. I’ll eat anything.”

“Fry bread… I have not had the pleasure,” she said.

“Think indigenous version of a Mexican tortilla, but with flour not cornmeal. And deep fried.”

“Yum. You had me at deep-fried,” Maggie said.

He laughed, and the joy in the sound carried across the store, bringing smiles to other people’s faces. Except for Del Kincaid. He paid for his things and slunk out.

Sonny and Maggie finally got to the checkout.

Lana, the clerk, greeted them with a smile. “Maggie, good to see you up and about,” she said, and then winked at Sonny. “I heard they’re thinking about putting a statue up in town in your honor, but they can’t decide if there should be a skunk at your feet or just honor the cool dude that you are.”

Sonny grinned. “They might want to nix the skunk. The scent has finally faded from the store. I doubt your boss would want to go through that again.”

She giggled, finished checking them out, then stood watching as they went out the door.

The next shopper showed up. A fifty-something redhead named Rona started emptying her shopping cart on the conveyor.

“Who are you looking at?” she asked.

Lana sighed. “Sonny Bluejacket. I swear, he’s the prettiest man I ever saw. And all that long black hair. I always did like a man with long hair.”

“That’s because you’re an old hippie,” Rona said, then grinned. “But you’re right about one thing. He’s seriously hot. Lucky Maggie.”

***

Unaware they were the topic of conversation, they drove home with a back seat full of groceries, and a truck bed full of horse feed. He was listening to her talk as he drove, and wondering how he’d ever existed without her. They were nearing the entrance to the ranch when a large colorful bird with a long tail ran across the road in front of them.

“Look, Sonny!”

“Ring-neck pheasant,” he said.

She watched it disappear into the pasture and decided she’d rather see it on the ground than on the table.

As soon as they got home, he carried in the groceries, then left her to put them away while he unloaded the sacks of feed and checked on the mares.

The sun was priming for the big show, hanging above the horizon like a high diver priming for the big plunge when Maggie came out the back door. Sonny was standing in the doorway to the barn and looking west. But the moment she came off the porch, he turned around.

Seriously dude? I know you didn’t hear me. How did you know I was here?

Sonny was shaking inside, watching as she came toward him, and seeing three tall young men walking beside her. Their hair was long, and dark, and they were flanking her like a pack following their leader. And in that moment, he knew he was seeing the future.

Those were his sons.

A lump rose in his throat as the light around Maggie grew brighter, and then they were gone, and she was standing before him.

“Sonny, what’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he said, then gave her a quick hug before they turned to face the west.

“I’m going to build you a gazebo in the front yard when you start building your studio, so you will always have a place to sit and watch the sunsets.”

She smiled. “I would love that.”

“I love you, Magnolia.” Then he kissed the top of her head and held her closer.

***

Sunrise had yet to happen when Maggie downed the last of her coffee and turned around to kiss Sonny goodbye.

“Don’t frown,” she said. “I’m looking forward to going back to work. It’s only half a day today. I’ll keep working until life tells me otherwise.”

“I know, love. Tell Pearl I said hello, and have yourself a good day, okay? I’m going to be in the arena working horses today, but I’ll have my phone on me. You call if you need me, promise?”

“I promise. I gotta go. Pearl’s probably already making biscuits. Love you,” she said.

“Love you more. See you later. Drive safe.”

She waved goodbye as she drove away, while he went back inside, locked the front door so he wouldn’t forget later when he left the house, and began putting their breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, then went into the bedroom to make the bed and saw she’d already done it.

Little Miss “I’ll do it myself,” he thought, as he went back to get another cup of coffee, then sat down in the living room to watch the morning show and get an update on the local weather. About the only thing that changed daily with weather was the velocity of the wind.

He was thinking about the day ahead when his phone signaled a text. It was from Charlie.

Are you awake? If you are, call me.

He frowned, and immediately made the call. Charlie answered on the first ring.

“Sonny, I hope I didn’t wake you?” he said.

“No, Maggie and I get up early. Her morning at the Yellow Rose starts at 5:00 a.m. I’m finishing off a cup of coffee before I head to the roping arena. What’s up?”

“I told Auntie about what Walker did. She was shocked, and then she got so angry with him. She went to the council to let them know what he’d done. They dealt their own brand of tribal justice, and it isn’t pretty. Whether he ever gets out of prison or not, he’s lost all voting privileges with the tribe, and he’s been shunned. If this was the old days, they would have put him on a horse with his belongings and sent him into the wild on his own. He would never be welcome among his people again.”

“Is Auntie okay?” Sonny asked.

“Well, she will be. She’s taken down the family pictures from the wall that he was in, even the ones when he was a kid. She said he has shamed the family name, and has burned enough sage in her house to smoke a turkey, and she cries because she thinks you will hate her for being his sister.”

Sonny groaned. “No, no. That’s grief talking. You tell her she’s still my best Auntie and I miss her hugs and her fry bread. You remind her that you’re his son and I don’t hate you, and I don’t hate myself, so why would I hate her? We all share the blood. But we don’t share the guilt. Okay?”

“Yes, I will tell her,” Charlie said. “Did you ever find out what happened to Nubby?”

“Yes. He got arrested for pickpocketing in Boise City. He’s in the Cimarron County Jail for the next six months. The cops know that Nubby was initially with Walker, so when they release him, they’ll be watching to see what he does next. If he knows what’s good for him, he better make tracks for home and change his stripes.”

“I know his sister, Retha. She’s been worried about him. Nobody knows where he went. I didn’t want to say anything to her before, but I will now. She’s like Auntie. Related to a low life whether she likes it or not,” Charlie said.

“Right, and thanks for calling, Charlie. I miss you guys.”

“You gonna marry that girl?” Charlie asked.

“Yes.”

“Then you better invite us to the wedding,” Charlie said.

“I don’t have a room for you to stay, but there’s a decent little hotel called the Crossroads Lodge only three miles from my place,” Sonny said.

“We’ll make it work. Take care, little brother.”

“You, too,” Sonny said.