The architect and the survey crew left just before sunset. Kerney stayed on at the building site watching touches of color fringe the few stray clouds, shadows deepen in the canyon, and the mountains fade into gray ghostly shapes. He stood behind the stakes that defined the placement of what would one day be his living room, imagining the house completed-the ceiling overhead, the plastered adobe walls, the tiled floor, the picture window looking beyond the portal to the canyon and the mountains. All of it on twelve hundred and eighty acres of ranch land just a few miles off a highway, yet far enough away to be private and secluded.
The night was quiet. Hills a mile or so to the east blocked any traffic noise, and the air was still. He thought about his parents, now long dead, who had lost their ranch. He thought about Sara, who'd left her family's ranch in Montana to attend West Point. He thought about his best friend, Dale Jennings, who'd never done anything but ranch, and vowed that he wouldn't trade one day of it to live any other way.
Kerney understood Dale's feelings. There was a pride that came from being a steward of the land, a satisfaction that came from hard physical work outside in the natural world, and a richness of spirit that came from the beauty that surrounded you.
Once, the idea that he could ever have anything close to this land had only been a dream, totally out of reach. Now it was coming true.
It wasn't a big spread and would never be economically self-sustaining. Maybe he could break even with it. If not, it was his, free and clear, with enough money left over from his inheritance after all the bills were paid to provide a comfortable life for his family and pass it on to his son, and maybe someday a daughter.
Kerney cracked a smile in the darkness. The land was beautiful but the native grasses were hardly sufficient for raising livestock. Still, he wanted to put some animals on it, and had decided to raise horses, primarily for pleasure, selling a few every now and then. Perhaps, when he retired, he'd get into breeding, but there was a lot he had to learn. Modern ranching had become a science, and he was way behind the curve on what he needed to know.
Did he have any horses? Yeah, one. A mustang named Soldier he'd bought at auction and turned into a good cutting horse. Dale was keeping Soldier on his ranch until the time came for Kerney to claim him. That time was coming fast.
Sara had been bugging him to give the ranch a name. Today on the phone, after he'd talked her through the final house siting, she'd teased him about it. Everything he'd suggested she dismissed as insipid. He had orders to come up with something good, perhaps even creative.
What did he have? Right now, he owned two sections of land and a horse.
That was it: The One Horse Ranch.
He made his way down the rocky dirt road thinking he really did need to rebuild it. He would call around to see if he could scour up a grader soon.
Chapter 11
The telephone call from Wendell and Hannah caught Kerney by surprise. Hannah recited the letters of the alphabet she'd learned along with her numbers, which she rattled off into the double digits. As the piece de resistance she informed Kerney that she could write out her name. Kerney said he was amazed and that Hannah was a very, very smart girl.
"I know," Hannah said, handing the phone off to Wendell.
Wendell described the picture he'd drawn for Kerney and asked if it would be all right to have his mother mail it to him. Kerney said that he would love to have it. He would keep it in his office at police headquarters.
"I'm gonna be a policeman, just like you and my dad," Wendell said.
The pleasure in the children's voices made Kerney realize that no matter what stood between him and Clayton, to Hannah and Wendell he was their grandfather, and they seemed to like it. He wondered where the idea for the phone call had come from. He didn't think Clayton was behind it, so that left Grace, or Clayton's mother. He settled on Grace as the instigator.
Grace came on the line and Kerney asked about Clayton.
"He would have called himself," she said, "but he's out of town."
"Give him my best, and tell him I'll be coming down there soon."
"Stop by the house while you're here," Grace said. "Wendell and Hannah would love to see you."
"I'll do that," Kerney said. "Thank you for calling, Grace. It made my day."
"From the smiles on your grandchildren's faces, I'd say the feeling was mutual."
The phone rang immediately after Kerney disconnected. He picked up to find Sara on the line.
"Sara, I just…"
"Don't talk, Kerney, listen. I'm pissed at you and this whole situation. I think you just want me only for sex, or for carrying your child, or for occasional companionship when I can fly in on one of your rare free weekends."
Kerney's cheerfulness evaporated. "What are you talking about?"
"I should have been there today for the house siting, not hearing about it on the other end of a phone call. I should have been there because it's supposed to be our house. I don't think you give a damn about me. You've just got this fantasy going about a wife, a family, and a ranch, not necessarily in that order."
"That's crazy. I thought you said you couldn't get away between now and graduation."
"Of course I can't get away," Sara snapped. "That's not what I'm talking about. You could have waited. What's one month? Shit! I hate to curse. Shit, shit, shit."
"Why didn't you tell me this before?"
"I shouldn't have had to. It should have been clear in your mind that it was something we needed to do together."
"I've just been trying to move things along."
"Why? So it can all come together perfectly according to some master plan? The house gets built, the pregnant wife appears, the baby gets born."
Stunned by the criticism, Kerney tried again to explain. "I just wanted to have everything ready for you and the baby."
"The place you're renting is more than adequate for us."
"You're being wrongheaded about this."
"Wrongheaded? If I'm so wrongheaded why do you even bother to know me?"
Kerney heard the phone go dead. He dropped the receiver and stared at it, pulled his hand back from it. Now, he was pissed-beyond belief pissed. He was a jerk, a dummy, an unfeeling, inconsiderate SOB. A bum for wanting to make Sara happy.
Where had all this come from? A few hours ago she was laughing on the phone, talking excitedly about the house plans, consulting the architectural drawings he'd sent her, and asking questions.
The phone rang and Kerney picked up.
"Do you want to talk?" Sara asked.
He could hear her crying. "Yes, of course." A long silence followed, punctuated by Sara's sniffling. "Are you still angry?" he asked.
"I'm hurt, not angry."
Kerney's indignation abated. "I had no intention to hurt you."
"I know that. But sometimes you get so single-minded I want to give you a swift kick."
"I think you just have."
"I guess I did."
"Are you all right?" Kerney asked.
"No, I'm hormonal, pregnant, lonely, exhausted, and wondering what's in store for us."
"A good life together," Kerney said, trying for something upbeat.
"Yeah, the rare times we're together."
"We still have to work that out."
"Yes, we do. If you want me to raise this child on my own, tell me now."
Her words hit Kerney like a sucker punch. "Hold on a minute."
"Do you?"
"Never, dammit." He heard her intake of breath followed by another silence.