Page 24 of Hank and Elsie
Looking around the Driscoll Ranch, Hank couldn’t help a spurt of envy at the ranch house, large barn, rock pathways, and a walled orchard of some kind, all nestled in the big curve of a river. On this side of the river, pastures held horses and cattle. He thought he spied a distant field of alfalfa.
Like Hank’s home, the ranch house was made of sturdy logs with a porch across the front. But unlike his place, this onewas three times as wide, and who-knew-how deep. The windows sported shutters with cut-out heart shapes, the blue color a grayer tint than the navy paint on the shutters of his home. A wide stone pathway led from the barn to the house.
Several outbuildings surrounded the house and barn. The rock wall sheltered an extensive orchard, which looked to contain several types of fruit trees. Farther away, he saw fields of crops and pastures with horses or cattle. Looking at the prosperous ranch made Hank’s heart sink, aware of how little he had to offer.
He couldn’t even say his view was better. He loved the look of Three-Bend Lake, the calm surface often mirroring the sky and the mountain, and the sight of the swans gliding over the water. But, here, the river making a U around the house and the distant view of the mountains held their own beauty.
His own small abode, of which he’d been so proud, seemed meager in comparison.And still will, even after I add the second room.
Mrs. Norton must have read his thoughts, for she gave him a reassuring pat on his leg. “Remember, theDriscollsown this ranch, not the Andersons.”
That reminder was only slightly reassuring. Despite Mrs. Norton’s optimism, Hank knew that a woman who resided on this ranch, even if she didn’t live in the big house, would be used to company and vast private surroundings.
A tall man followed the dogs in their direction, calling for them to quiet. He pulled off his Stetson to give Mrs. Norton a polite nod, exposing dark hair and blue eyes in a tanned face, before putting his hat back on. “Mrs. Norton, this is a pleasant surprise.” He extended a hand to help her out.
Hank scooped up the basket of cookies and stepped from the surrey. He walked around the back to nod at the ranch owner. “Hank Canfield,” he introduced himself, holding out a hand.
The man’s handshake was firm. “Cai Driscoll.” He didn’t smile. But he also didn’t seem displeased to have impromptu visitors.
Mrs. Norton patted Hank’s shoulder. “Mr. Canfield was kind enough to drive me out here, and rightly so. My arms would have given out long since.”
“Guests are always welcome.” Mr. Driscoll glanced at Hank. “Luckily for you, there will be fewer Anderson womenfolk to flock around a new man. As a group, they can be overwhelming. Several of their daughters are getting married in Concord, and their families caught the train two days past.”
Concord? In Massachusetts? Why so far away?“How did they end up in Concord?”
“We have a tradition of sending our girls off to a boarding school there, because my grandmother attended. The place is a fine institution of learning, and she loved her time there.”
“Ah.” Hank rubbed his chin, still not sure of sending daughters so far away.
The rancher let out a slow breath. “Although the sole exception was my sister, Aurelia, who lacked the sturdy good health of the Anderson girls. Even as her illness progressed, she wanted so desperately to go away to school with her friends but was too frail to do so. Then, of course, her friends would inevitably get married and remain in Concord with their husbands. So, she lost those important relationships. She used to complain that letters weren’t good enough.” He raised an elbow a few inches, exposing a black mourning armband.
“Used to,” Mrs. Norton echoed, touching the arm band, sympathy in her voice. “For Aurelia?”
The rancher’s expression grew bleak. “Just two weeks ago.”
“Oh, my dear Mr. Driscoll.” She rubbed his arm. “I’m so sorry you’ve lost your sweet sister. Aurelia was so young.”
“Seventeen, going on thirty-five.” Cai gave them a faint smile. “Or ten, depending on the day or the hour.” The man’s grief was tangible. He clenched his jaw, as if keeping in emotion.
Hank’s hands tightened on the basket handle, wishing himself anywhere but here.
Mrs. Norton let out a sad sigh. “We hadn’t heard, or Reverend Norton and I would have called upon you sooner.”
“We would have sent for Reverend Norton to perform the funeral. But there was that terrible rainstorm…”
“Still, Reverend Norton would have wanted to be here.” She lowered her arm. “Mr. Driscoll, I know my husband will feel the need to drive out for what spiritual comfort he can offer.”
“Call me Cai, please.” The man’s polite smile looked forced. “The Andersons and I would appreciate a pastoral visit from the reverend. Since Aurie’s death, seems like we’ve only put our heads down and focused on work.”
“Then Reverend Norton will certainly come. My son, Reverend Joshua, will as well.”
“I’m not alone,” Cai said hurriedly, as if trying to reassure her, instead of accepting the sympathy. “The Andersons have been there for me. They’re like family.”
“I’m sure they’ve been grieving, too. Mourning together can be a great comfort. Yet, for them, it’s not like losing the last of your blood family. You raised Aurelia from a young age.”
“I was fifteen. Mama died a few days after her birth.”
Mrs. Norton gave him a gentle smile of understanding. “Then, in many respects, Aurelia was your daughter.”
