Randall Wedding

“That would be a good guess. She has long black curls.”

“Is she a teenage runaway?”

Russ paused. “No, I don’t think so. I’d guess she’s in her mid-twenties.”

“So what else did she tell you?”

“Uh, that’s it. I was busy trying to get her to eat. That seemed more important than pumping her for information.” He knew he sounded stiff. But he felt awkward once he realized what a poor job he’d done. Man, he certainly didn’t want to call his mother now.

“I’m sure Isabella will tell you anything you want to know when she feels better,” Jon said soothingly, reminding Russ of how he talked to Angel.

“Yeah. Well, I’d better go. Mom’s still waiting for her daily report.”

“Tori talked to her mother yesterday. The whole bunch of parents are gathering for your daily report.”

“Must be because of the blizzard. Not much to do when you’re trapped in the house.”

“Right. Well, call me if you have any concerns. Oh, I heard the weather report a short while ago. They think the storm might blow itself out by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Terrific,” Russ said, but he noticed a decided lack of enthusiasm in himself that he didn’t want to examine.

“Okay, we’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Jon.”

Could he put off calling his mother? The four sets of parents all lived together in the main ranch house. They shared their problems and their joys with one another. The kids all grew up together. He was as close to his cousins as he was to Casey. He’d admit he was a little closer to Rich, since they were identical twins, but not much.

They were all one big happy family.

Until Abby died.

Then he’d bowed out. Oh, he’d still been a member of the family, but he’d avoided all their big get-togethers. He’d avoided every rodeo they had at the ranch. He’d withdrawn into a colorless world where he didn’t have to risk dealing with his emotions.

He’d known it was cowardly of him. But he couldn’t bear the pain of the memories. The sight of the joy his brother or cousins felt with their new babies. The soft touches, the exchanged looks with their wives. He’d shared all that with Abby. But no more.

He’d fallen into a rut of nothingness.

Okay, so now it was time to reenter life. His fingers actually shook as he picked up the phone. He could start slowly. After Isabella and Angel went on their way, he could attend a few family functions. That would do for a while.

He dialed the number, and Red, the man who’d taken care of the house for the past forty years, answered.

“Hey, boy, you making it all right?”

“Sure, Red. But I can’t quite make biscuits as light as yours,” Russ teased.

“It’s in the wrist, boy. You know that.”

Russ chuckled and asked for his mother.

“She’s been waitin’ for your call.”

“Russ?” his mother asked when she got on the line. “Did she wake up?”

“Yeah, she did, but not for long. And she was pretty weak. I fixed her some food, but she didn’t eat much.”

“What did you fix her? An omelette?”

He should’ve known his mother would guess that. “Yeah.”

“Oh, good. That would be good for her.”

“I hope so. Her name is Isabella, but that’s all I learned. She fell asleep too quickly.”

“Oh, my. She must be really weak.”

“Yeah. I don’t know how long she was sick before I found them.”

“How’s Angel?”

“As beautiful as ever. She recognizes my voice now.” He regretted adding that information.

“Uh, yes, babies do that quickly. So her mother’s name is Isabella? That sounds Italian.”

“That’s what Jon said.”

“I wonder if she was coming here to visit someone? We have a few Italian families around here.”

“Probably not, Mom. I think she would’ve told me at once. But I’ll admit she’s not thinking too clearly. She fell asleep while I was explaining our family to her.”

Janie laughed. “No wonder. There’s so many of us.”

“I know. But she’d heard our name before.”

“Well, that happens with Pete and Toby and even Rich.”

It bothered Russ how much he was pleased to be able to tell his mother that she’d never heard of anyone connected with the rodeo. “No, she hadn’t heard of them. She’s from New York, you know. At least, her license plates say New York.”

“Oh. Then I wonder how—”

“I don’t know, Mom. I’ll try to ask her the next time she wakes up. But I’ve got to go get the kitchen cleaned up right now. Before Angel’s next meal.”

“Of course, son. Oh, the snow is supposed to end tomorrow. We’ll get in to see how you’re doing as soon as we can.”

“Thanks, Mom, but there’s no hurry.”

When he hung up the phone, he stood there, his hand on the receiver, wishing everyone would quit telling him about the end of the blizzard. As if that was a good thing.

Chapter Three