My Montana Home

Cassie stood back and surveyed her sister. Thea’s lustrous black hair was cropped short, as befitted a woman who’d devoted her life to ranching. Usually she wore cowboy boots, jeans and a work shirt, but today she had on her Sunday dress, the one that made her eyes look a deeper blue-green than ever.

“Stunning,” Cassie said in all sincerity. “The folks at First Methodist won’t be able to keep their eyes on their hymnbooks.”

“That’s because they’ll be staring at you,” Thea said, sounding a bit awkward herself now that the enthusiasm of her initial greeting was over. “They only get to see you once a month—our bona fide city girl, come back to Paradise Corners.”

“I’m not going to church today,” Cassie protested.

“Oh, come on, you know it reminds you of old times,” Thea said. “You and me sitting in the back of the choir, tossing spit wads at the boys.”

Cassie smiled in spite of herself. There had been a time—very long ago—when she and Thea and Jolie had been close. Before their mother had died…

Now Thea approached their father. “You know what Jolie said, Dad. Lots and lots of taking it easy. You’re going back to the house, and you’re going to sit down and rest while Beth brings you breakfast. And no, there won’t be any eggs and bacon. Just oatmeal.” Thea sounded almost as commanding as the old man himself. He gazed at her sourly, then climbed back on his horse.

“I’m riding back,” he told her. Then, with a muttered comment about how much he despised oatmeal, he loped off again.

Thea shook her head. “I don’t know what to do—and Jolie doesn’t either. He won’t listen to us. Jolie stops by whenever she can, and I’m over here working all day, but we still can’t seem to control him. Beth tries to make sure he eats right, but then she’ll find him down at Grizzly’s Diner, eating a steak.” Beth Peace was the Maxwells’ longtime housekeeper. If she couldn’t keep Robert in line, what hope was there for the rest of them?

“He drives me crazy,” Cassie said. “But…I don’t want to lose him.” The words popped out before she could stop them.

“Yeah,” said Thea. “I’m kind of fond of the old guy myself. Go figure.” The two sisters shared a glance that bespoke all the years with their father. Defying him, fearing him, longing for his approval, and now worrying about him.

Thea was the first to shake herself from the reverie. She glanced toward Zak, who’d clambered out of the Land Rover and was now squatting to poke a stick in the ground. Thea hauled Cassie a short distance away.

“Okay,” she said. “Out with it. Ever since Gwen called Jolie and told her the news, we’ve been dying to ask you about it. Who’s this new boyfriend you’ve got in Billings?”

Cassie stared at her sister. “What on earth are you talking about? Why would Gwen—”

“Oh, come on,” Thea said impatiently. “Gwen called Jolie to discuss a patient referral or some such, and your name happened to come up. Gwen told Jolie all about how you brought some devastating hunk into her office yesterday because you’d broken his finger—”

“Dislocated,” Cassie said. “Not broken. For crying out loud, at least get the details right.”

“So tell me the details,” said Thea. “Who is he? How long have you known him? When are we going to meet him?”

Cassie groaned. “I can’t believe this, I really can’t. Why did I ever choose Gwen as Zak’s pediatrician—”

“Don’t change the subject, Cassie. Who is the guy?”

Cassie moved to a place where she was sure Zak would be out of hearing range. Thea followed. Cassie knew there was no getting away from it.

“I hate to disappoint you,” she said, “but I only met Andrew Morris yesterday. He’s Hannah’s grandson from Texas, and he’s only here to settle her estate. I, well, I fell out of a tree and landed on top of him…” Cassie stopped when she saw the way Thea was laughing at her. “Okay, okay, so it’s not the best way to make an impression on a man. But I didn’t want to make an impression.”

“So, tell me,” Thea said as soon as she could control her mirth. “Is he really as much of a hunk as Gwen says?”

“Yes, he’s gorgeous. Satisfied?”

Thea looked thoughtful. “So that’s the end of the story. You break his finger—sorry, you dislocate it—and you just walk away from the guy. Too bad.”

“I did the decent thing,” Cassie found herself saying. “I invited him to dinner to make up for all the trouble I’d caused.”

Thea perked up. “Dinner…hmm. Sounds romantic.”

“It wasn’t,” Cassie protested. “Zak refused to come down to eat, which left me alone with Andrew—”

“Like I said. Romantic.” Humor danced in her sister’s eyes again. Cassie glared.

“The food was mediocre. Growing up around Beth’s gourmet offerings, nobody in this family has ever learned to cook a decent meal. Me included—”

“Did you kiss him?” Thea interrupted.

Cassie felt her skin heating up. Silently she cursed the fair Maxwell complexion that betrayed every emotion.

Thea nodded. “Was it a hot kiss?”

“It hardly lasted at all,” Cassie muttered. “Zak showed up, and believe me—that put an end to things.”

“This is all very, very interesting,” Thea pronounced. “Jolie and I have been hoping you’d find someone.”

“I haven’t found anyone. I met a man. I dislocated his finger. I kissed him. End of story!”

Thea didn’t look convinced.

FOR THE SECOND TIME in two days, Cassie entered a doctor’s clinic. This one, however, was on Main Street in Paradise Corners, Montana. And it belonged to Cassie’s older sister, Jolie.

Cassie sat in the waiting room while Jolie attended to a Sunday emergency—a little girl who’d sprained her wrist after pretending to parachute out of a swing. Half an hour later, Cassie watched as Jolie ushered child and parent out the door with efficient care. The little girl’s tears had dried, and now she seemed proud of her exploit.

Jolie was very good at what she did. She could have stayed in California, specialized and be driving a Mercedes by now. Instead she’d come back to Montana to attend to ordinary, everyday scrapes and sprains and bruises. It should have made her seem ordinary. But it didn’t. Whenever Cassie was around Jolie, she still felt stirrings of the old half-resentful, half-admiring sense of intimidation. The sense that she could never measure up to Jolie…never be as smart or pretty or accomplished. Cassie sighed. Would she ever escape the trap of her childhood emotions?

Now Jolie sat down next to her, unbuttoning her white lab coat. She, too, wore a Sunday dress underneath. Her long hair, with its tendency to curl, was strawberry blond, her eyes a striking shade of blue.

“You know, as long as I’m at work, I could take care of a dislocated finger or two,” Jolie said in a deadpan voice. Cassie glared at her. It seemed she was doing a lot of glaring today.

“Very funny. I’m glad Gwen saw fit to share the whole humiliating episode with you.”

“Oh, I’m up on everything,” said Jolie. “Thea gave me a call this morning and told me about the kiss. So, just how serious is it with you and this Andrew?”

Cassie raised her head. “I only met him yesterday, for goodness’ sake—”

“Fast work,” Jolie said approvingly. “Maybe he’s the one…”

The problem was, Jolie as well as Thea had recently found happiness in love. Ever since Thea had married Rafe, last Valentine’s Day, and Jolie had walked down the aisle with Matt Dawson in June, the two sisters seemed to think Cassie should do the same.

Granted, Matt and Jolie’s ceremony had been a small, private affair, attended only by family and a few close friends. Their father’s ill health and their kid brother’s troubles had precluded a larger celebration. Jolie had insisted on that and for once, all three Maxwell sisters had agreed. But even so, Jolie had made a lovely, radiant bride. Thea had been equally lovely—and equally radiant at her wedding in February. Now the two of them kept hinting that Cassie needed to find a bridegroom of her own.

“Jolie,” Cassie tried again, “you forget that I’ve already been married once. I’m not looking to do it again.”

Jolie gave a dismissive wave. “Jeff doesn’t count by anybody’s calculation. You need to find the real thing.”

“I don’t believe in ‘the real thing,’” Cassie said. “Don’t forget—I married Jeff to rebel against Dad…etcetera, etcetera. I’ve never been one for romance.”

“Nonsense,” Jolie said inelegantly. “Sure, part of you wanted to thumb your nose at Dad. But you really were in love with Mr. Jeff Warren, aka His Royal Blondeness. I remember—you thought he was the most wonderful man in the world. So…you made a mistake. So…you try again. And this time you do it right. Who knows, this Andrew guy could be the one.”

“I’m not trying anything again. And I certainly didn’t come here to talk to you about Andrew…or love…or…”

“Relax,” Jolie said, propping her feet on the windowsill and settling back more comfortably in her chair. “Don’t get in a tiz. What did you want to talk about?”

Cassie stared out the window. She knew the sights of Main Street so well she could have cataloged them in her sleep. Grizzly’s Diner across the way, with the beauty parlor right next to it. Dillon’s Feed and Tack down the way, no doubt advertising another special on bran mash. The Lone Wolf and the Silver Spur…all too familiar, all making her feel claustrophobic. She just wanted to get in her car and floor the gas pedal back to Billings. But for Zak’s sake…

“I guess I want to ask your advice,” she said grudgingly.

“Don’t overwhelm me with your enthusiasm,” remarked Jolie. “But maybe I’d better make a record of this. Cassie Warren, actually wanting her big sister’s advice. Who would’ve thought. All those years you complained I just wanted to boss you around…”

“Are you finished?” Cassie asked with exaggerated patience.

Jolie gave a conciliatory grin. “You always take things too seriously—that’s why you’re fun to tease. But I’ll stop. Just tell me the problem.”

Cassie tapped her nails on the sill in a restless rhythm. “Dad’s at it again. Wanting me and Zak to move to the ranch house, and live with him. He thinks it’s the best thing for Zak. And maybe he’s right. Maybe Zak needs more stability than I can give him on my own. I can just picture what Zak is doing right now. Tagging along after his grandfather, or having Beth make a fuss over him. It’s exactly what he needs.”

Jolie was all seriousness now. “What do you need, Cassie?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, seeking clarity. But none came to her. “I don’t know…I just don’t know! Jeff racked up so many debts before our divorce, I’m lucky I walked away with the clothes on my back. After that, I promised myself I’d give Zak a home—a real home. Living in Hannah’s guest house, I’ve been able to start saving for a down payment. I’ve done pretty well, I think—”

“I’m not the one you have to convince,” said Jolie. “You’re still trying to prove something to Dad.”

Cassie gazed out the window again. “If I move back home, he’ll just take over my life. That’s his way. Always has been.”

“You know,” said Jolie, “Thea’s the one you should be talking to about this. Before Rafe came along she spent all those years at the ranch, trying to carve out some independence for herself at the same time. Ask her how she did it. Maybe that’ll help you with the decision.”

Cassie didn’t say anything at first. Thirteen years ago, she’d eagerly left the ranch to attend college in Bozeman. Jolie, too, had left home for college. Thea, on the other hand, had stayed at Walking Stones. She’d always insisted that she loved ranching, and that she couldn’t imagine any other type of work. But staying home had put her in an unenviable position between their father and their kid brother. Thea had pitted herself against Robert Senior’s formidable will, and at the same time she’d tried to be a surrogate mother as well as sister to Robert Junior. She would’ve been totally justified for harboring any resentments against Cassie and Jolie for leaving her to deal with the two difficult Maxwell men. These days she never complained, but still…

“Talk to Thea,” Jolie repeated.

“I can’t,” Cassie burst out. “I just…I just feel guilty about all the time I’ve spent away. And I’m sure deep down she must still resent me for it.”

“So you think she won’t give you an unbiased opinion,” Jolie said astutely. “You think she’ll tell you to come back so you can put your time in with Dad, too.”

“She’d have every right to ask that,” Cassie said.

Jolie straightened. “Listen, Cassie. I’ve had my own share of guilt for leaving Thea here to be family caretaker. And maybe that’s part of the reason I came back to Montana. I wanted to make it up to her somehow. But she made a choice to stay—and it was the right choice for her. You just have to decide if it’s right for you. I can’t give you the answer, and, in the end, I suppose Thea can’t, either.”

That left Cassie right back where she’d started. Confused. Uncertain. Wanting with all her heart to do what was right for her son. But feeling that something inside her would die if she lost the independence she’d struggled so hard to attain.

Jolie glanced at her watch and stood up. “We’re gonna be late for church. We’d better get moving.”

“Oh, no. I’m not up to going to church in Paradise today—”

Jolie gave another grin. “Did you just listen to yourself?”

“Okay, okay, very funny. But you know how I feel about this. When the Maxwells show up at First Methodist, they’re on display. And right now I just don’t want to be…on display.”

“Honey,” said Jolie, “you won’t be the one giving the show this time. Our kid brother is going to try talking to Megan again, and we’re all going to be there to lend support. I think it would mean a lot to him if you were there, too.”

Cassie wasn’t so sure about that. But, like everyone else in her family, she had a major soft spot for Robert Maxwell Jr.

Church it was going to be.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE MAXWELL CLAN filled up two entire pews at First Methodist Church. Cassie’s attention strayed from the sermon as she sent a glance down the row of faces next to her. Robert Sr. sat in his customary seat next to the aisle, as if ready to make an exit at any time. He always gave the impression that God would have to wait on his schedule, not the other way around. Beside Robert Sr. sat young Zak, looking a little sleepy-eyed by now. And, next to Zak, sat Beth Peace, her eyes on the minister. Thea and her handsome husband, Rafe, took up the last seats in the pew. Thea didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the sermon, either. She kept turning to gaze at her husband. He gazed back just as adoringly. Someone ought to censor those two.

Cassie didn’t have to turn around to see who sat in the pew behind. Jolie and her own handsome husband, Matt Dawson. No doubt they were doing the adoring bit, too. Next to them would be Lily, who’d just turned fifteen, and ten-year-old Charlie, Matt’s kids from his first marriage. Cassie heard some whispers and a muffled laugh, and then Jolie’s voice shushing. It had been tough going at first with teenage Lily, but Jolie had won over both her stepchildren big time. She’d acquired a family as well as a husband.

And, of course, at the very end of the pew, right behind Cassie, would be Robert Maxwell Jr. Nineteen-year-old Bobby, trying to deal with the terrible troubles he’d caused this past year. The drunk-driving accident that had left his best friend, Dan Aiken, seriously injured…the volatile love affair that had left him with a baby daughter and a girlfriend who had declared categorically that she wanted nothing more to do with his charming unreliability.

The congregation stood to sing a hymn. As the organ music swelled, Cassie unaccountably felt her throat tighten. The gold and ruby and turquoise of the stained-glass windows seemed to waver through the tears that rose to her eyes. She told herself fiercely to get a grip. What was wrong with her? Just because she was surrounded by her family…the family that she wanted to embrace and escape all at the same time…that was no reason to start blubbering.

Cassie managed to get herself under control. The service ended, and the Maxwells filed out with the rest of the worshipers. The blue Montana sky stretched overhead, clean and brilliant, while a breeze stirred through the aspens beside the little white church. It should have been a time of peacefulness and contentment. But one of the congregants, Megan Wheeler, was walking away quickly, long auburn hair flying behind her. She carried a blanket-wrapped bundle protectively against her body. Bobby hurried after her.

“Shucks,” murmured Jolie by Cassie’s side. “I thought he was going to wait for the moment to be a little more opportune.”

“He can’t wait,” said Thea on Cassie’s other side. “Megan’s making her getaway.”

The three sisters watched as Bobby caught up to Megan and began talking to her earnestly. They were too far away to hear what was being said, but the body language was more than eloquent. Megan stood stiffly, angled away from Bobby, still holding her baby close to her body. Cassie knew how much the girl had been through this past year or so…loving Bobby, believing he loved her, giving in to his charm. She’d been terribly hurt at his first reaction to her pregnancy—his blustering denial of responsibility. Later—much later—he’d tried to make amends. He was still trying. But who could blame Megan for refusing to trust him?

Now Cassie studied Megan’s regal bearing. Over the past months she’d changed from a shy, hesitant girl into a confident and independent young woman. Jolie could be credited for a lot of that. When Megan had run away from her abusive father, Jolie had taken her in, offered her a roof and a job. Now Megan lived with Jolie and Matt, and still worked at the clinic. Although she saw her mother and her little sister, Lisa, quite often, she never talked about her father who was serving time in prison. And, with Jolie’s help, she’d won a scholarship to Montana State University in Bozeman. She’d be starting school very soon…starting a new life. A life, perhaps, that would not include Bobby.

Megan’s face had turned stony and implacable. She listened to Bobby for another moment. He made wide gestures as he spoke, no doubt promising grand reforms. Megan, clearly, was not impressed. She simply walked away from him…more slowly this time, as if she knew that Bobby wouldn’t follow her. He didn’t. He just stood gazing after her, a look of despair on his face. And then, rather belligerently, he glanced at the people who had been watching him with covert interest. He strode off in the opposite direction from Megan.

“We have to go to him,” said Thea.

“He needs some time to himself,” said Cassie. “She just shot him down all over again.”

“He wants our help, whether or not he’ll admit it,” said Jolie.

And so it was that Cassie found herself propelled between her two sisters, off in pursuit of the kid brother they all loved.

They found him on the slope behind the church. He stood with his head bent, his elbows planted on the whitewashed fence surrounding the graveyard. It was a stance evocative of despair and frustration, two emotions that Bobby’d had good cause to suffer of late. Not only had he apparently lost Megan, but his best friend was in a wheelchair. Dan Aiken had regained some movement in his arms, but no one knew if he would ever walk again. No wonder Dan’s family was threatening to sue for millions of dollars…no wonder Bobby looked so downcast.

Cassie’s natural instinct was to hang back for a moment, allowing Bobby some time to collect himself. That was what she would have wanted in his situation. But Jolie and Thea just kept nudging her along with them.

At last, it seemed, Bobby could no longer ignore his sisters’ approach. He raised his head and frowned at them. As always, what struck Cassie the most about her brother was the resemblance…his striking similarity to their mother. Beautiful Helen Maxwell, gone now fifteen years but still so fresh in Cassie’s mind. Bobby had Helen’s wavy black hair and fair skin. He also had her very intense dark eyes.

“What do you want?” Bobby muttered, glancing from Thea to Cassie to Jolie.

“We want to help,” Thea said in the soft voice she reserved for the brother she’d practically raised ever since their mother’s death.

“We’re your sisters,” Jolie said, her tone more brisk but nonetheless unable to disguise her affection.

Cassie said nothing at all, sensing Bobby’s emotions. Stubbornness, unease, a restlessness—the very same emotions she had known at Bobby’s age, when she’d been all of nineteen.

“Guys, just give me a break—all right?” Now her brother was trying to sound careless, nonchalant. He wasn’t succeeding.

Thea stepped toward him, resting a hand on his arm. “What did Megan say, Bobby?”

“Hell, what do you think?” he retorted. “She told me to get lost all over again. No surprise. No big news.”

“Bobby,” Jolie said, “maybe you’re moving too fast for her. Pushing for too much, without giving her reason to trust you.”

He turned away without answering. Cassie had to admit that maybe Jolie was right. Not so very long ago, Bobby had asked Megan to marry him. She’d flatly refused. He’d asked her again—she’d turned him down again. She’d told him that she didn’t believe one word of his love, his declaration that he was ready to be a husband and a father. “Grow up, Bobby Maxwell,” she’d said witheringly. “Grow up, but just leave me out of it.” And today, if Bobby had actually proposed again…fact was, Megan already had too much practice saying no to him.

“Bobby,” Thea said, her voice still gentle, “you know what’s really still eating at Megan, don’t you? The way you reacted that day—the day you learned she was going to have a baby. So what you really need to do is convince her somehow that, well, that you really are ecstatic about the whole thing.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Jolie said thoughtfully. “It’s Bobby’s entire history that has Megan running scared. Somehow we have to convince her that he really has changed—”

“Don’t you think,” Cassie said, “that this is between Bobby and Megan, and there’s not a whole lot we can do about it?”

“That,” said Jolie, “is a cop-out.”

Cassie gave a sigh. So maybe Jolie was right about that, too. But their kid brother’s “entire history” really was a complex snarl. His teenage years of drinking and rebelling against every possible sign of authority, especially if the sign happened to come from their father. It didn’t seem likely that three sisters, no matter how well meaning, could sort out Bobby’s problems.

Driven by that unaccountable restlessness, Cassie pushed open the gate to the little graveyard. She was drawn almost against her will to the granite headstones at the far end. They were just a bit bigger and grander than the ones surrounding them. Even in death, the Maxwell clan had always needed to proclaim its preeminence. Cassie stopped before one of these Maxwell monuments. Helen, beloved wife and mother… How inadequate the words seemed. They didn’t capture any of Cassie’s memories: Helen’s liveliness and irreverence, her ability to stand up to her dogmatic husband without ever giving a doubt of her adoration for him.

Cassie’s fingers curled against her palms as the old emotions raced through her, among them the grief and anger first experienced by a sixteen-year-old girl who’d lost her mother. Why did you leave us? If only you’d stayed here, alive and well…surely then Bobby wouldn’t have made such a mess of his life. Surely then I wouldn’t be so confused, wondering all the time about my own life…

Cassie took a deep breath. Impossible, of course, to expect that her mother would have been able to soothe every hurt, calm every fear. Now that Cassie was a mother herself, she knew that much for certain. But still the protests and the longings rose within her.

She’d hardly noticed that her sisters had come to join her.

“Will you look at that,” Thea murmured.

“Sometimes Dad shows a soft spot,” Jolie said, “in spite of himself. He was carrying those flowers earlier this morning, trying to hide them from us.”