The Lies Uncovered Trilogy (Books 4, 5, and 6 of The Dancing Moon Ranch Series) by Patricia Watters Page B
Authors: Patricia Watters
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utensils on the table or in the sink, and no opened cans or the remains of boxed meals. Only a package of beef jerky and a few granola bar wrappers indicated that Rick had eaten.
She immediately went to the cabinet above the sink and scanned the contents. Taking cans of peaches and pork-and-beans off the shelf, she set them on the counter, then retrieving a can opener from a drawer, she clamped it onto the rim of the beans. "You can't just hold up here and waste away," she said, while cranking the handle of the can opener, "you need to eat. And you also need to wash. Have you even cleaned at all since you got here?"
Rick didn't respond, just shut the front door and stood looking at her. But after a few moments, he said, "I'm trying to sort through things and I need to be alone to do that."
Sophie looked into dark troubled eyes, and said, "If you really want me to go I will, but I'm worried about you and I want to stay here. Even though I walked in on a very disturbing scene, I had two special days with your mother and that's what I intend to remember. You need to focus on your good times with her too. It's not healthy to stay hung up on her dark side, and I know that's what you're doing."
Rick combed his fingers through his hair, leaving it sticking up on top, which Sophie would have found comical if not for the situation, then he went over to the couch, sat down and folded his arms, so she knew he wasn't ready to talk.
Deciding that coffee and food was what he needed most at the moment, she opened the iron door to the fire box in the wood cook stove, scrunched up newspapers that were sitting in a stack on the floor and shoved them in, then placed several pieces of kindling and a couple of small logs on top and lit the paper. While the cook stove heated, she filled a bucket with water from the hand pump on the sink and put it on the stove to heat so Rick could wash. Scooping the pork and beans into a small pot, she set it on the stove, along with a pot of water for making coffee in the French press on the counter. Then opening the can of peaches, she set it on the table, together with two small bowls with spoons.
While everything was heating, Sophie leaned against the kitchen counter and scanned the surroundings—the stone fireplace with an opening beside it for stacking logs, the old clock on it's own shelf high on the wall, the rustic coffee table surrounded by leather-covered furniture and a braided rag rug that Grace made years before, and a couple of old rockers, the same pieces that were there when she was a child. Her earliest memory of being at the cabin was shortly after she'd been turned over to her father, and a man claiming to be her legal father was trying to take custody of her in order to get her inheritance. Her father and Justine fled with her from the ranch, in the middle of a snowy night, and they stayed in the cabin as a family until it was safe to return. She remembered those as the first happy days she'd had since her mother died.
"What's going on at the ranch?" Rick asked, after some time had passed.
Encouraged that Rick was talking, Sophie replied, "Pretty much the usual. Your dad's involved in labeling wine bottles, Jayne's occupied with guests, Aunt Grace is cooking up a storm and Uncle Jack's keeping the boys busy in the stable."
"That's not what I meant," Rick said. "Are they talking about my mother?"
Sophie went to sit beside Rick on the couch. "They are all respecting the fact that she was your mother. There's no animosity. When you return to the ranch they'll be there for you as they've always been. Yours is a close family, and you need to let them help you through this. They want to but you've shut them all out."
"Yeah, well I'm not ready for all that sympathy," he said. "I'd be happier if they said nothing. I'm aware of how they felt about my mother, and most of it was justified. She could be a shrew when she wanted."
Sophie was surprised at the rancor in Rick's words. She also
She immediately went to the cabinet above the sink and scanned the contents. Taking cans of peaches and pork-and-beans off the shelf, she set them on the counter, then retrieving a can opener from a drawer, she clamped it onto the rim of the beans. "You can't just hold up here and waste away," she said, while cranking the handle of the can opener, "you need to eat. And you also need to wash. Have you even cleaned at all since you got here?"
Rick didn't respond, just shut the front door and stood looking at her. But after a few moments, he said, "I'm trying to sort through things and I need to be alone to do that."
Sophie looked into dark troubled eyes, and said, "If you really want me to go I will, but I'm worried about you and I want to stay here. Even though I walked in on a very disturbing scene, I had two special days with your mother and that's what I intend to remember. You need to focus on your good times with her too. It's not healthy to stay hung up on her dark side, and I know that's what you're doing."
Rick combed his fingers through his hair, leaving it sticking up on top, which Sophie would have found comical if not for the situation, then he went over to the couch, sat down and folded his arms, so she knew he wasn't ready to talk.
Deciding that coffee and food was what he needed most at the moment, she opened the iron door to the fire box in the wood cook stove, scrunched up newspapers that were sitting in a stack on the floor and shoved them in, then placed several pieces of kindling and a couple of small logs on top and lit the paper. While the cook stove heated, she filled a bucket with water from the hand pump on the sink and put it on the stove to heat so Rick could wash. Scooping the pork and beans into a small pot, she set it on the stove, along with a pot of water for making coffee in the French press on the counter. Then opening the can of peaches, she set it on the table, together with two small bowls with spoons.
While everything was heating, Sophie leaned against the kitchen counter and scanned the surroundings—the stone fireplace with an opening beside it for stacking logs, the old clock on it's own shelf high on the wall, the rustic coffee table surrounded by leather-covered furniture and a braided rag rug that Grace made years before, and a couple of old rockers, the same pieces that were there when she was a child. Her earliest memory of being at the cabin was shortly after she'd been turned over to her father, and a man claiming to be her legal father was trying to take custody of her in order to get her inheritance. Her father and Justine fled with her from the ranch, in the middle of a snowy night, and they stayed in the cabin as a family until it was safe to return. She remembered those as the first happy days she'd had since her mother died.
"What's going on at the ranch?" Rick asked, after some time had passed.
Encouraged that Rick was talking, Sophie replied, "Pretty much the usual. Your dad's involved in labeling wine bottles, Jayne's occupied with guests, Aunt Grace is cooking up a storm and Uncle Jack's keeping the boys busy in the stable."
"That's not what I meant," Rick said. "Are they talking about my mother?"
Sophie went to sit beside Rick on the couch. "They are all respecting the fact that she was your mother. There's no animosity. When you return to the ranch they'll be there for you as they've always been. Yours is a close family, and you need to let them help you through this. They want to but you've shut them all out."
"Yeah, well I'm not ready for all that sympathy," he said. "I'd be happier if they said nothing. I'm aware of how they felt about my mother, and most of it was justified. She could be a shrew when she wanted."
Sophie was surprised at the rancor in Rick's words. She also
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