9. Terrible Ornery Thing

Chapter 9

Terrible Ornery Thing

M aeve pulled the truck door closed and felt Dallas take her hand. It was a familiar routine she was becoming accustomed to. Their trip was winding to a close, and she was intent on enjoying every last moment before returning to her responsibilities at the ranch.

He steered the truck toward the restaurant where their reservation was waiting. Closing her eyes, she listened to the country bluegrass music twanging through the speakers.

Much to her dismay, the peaceful moment was shattered by the sound of a phone call.

Her eyebrows pulled together with concern when she saw the Deputy Sheriff’s name cross the center console screen.

“What could Angus be needing at this time of day?” Dallas asked.

Maeve shrugged casually, but her mind turned to every possible worst-case scenario. Steeling her nerves, she tapped the green button on the screen to answer the call.

“Hey, Angus,” Maeve answered .

“It’s Harry,” his voice boomed through the speakers, “Sorry to bother you, Maeve. I know you’re on your honeymoon and all.”

“What’s up?” Maeve tried to keep her voice from shaking while her mind continued to shuffle through everything that could have gone wrong at the ranch in her absence.

“I have a woman here at the airport,” Harry quietly disclosed. “Terrible, ornery thing. I mean, really, Maeve. I thought you were difficult, but she is —”

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Get to it, Harry.”

“Well, she claims,” he recounted cautiously, “—that she’s your sister .”

Maeve’s mouth gaped as she exchanged a glance with Dallas. “What does she look like?”

“Oh, “ Harry calculated. “Blonde, skinny as a rake. Tongue sharp as razor wire.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she exhaled. Maeve pulled her fingers across her brow and dragged them down her chin. It was almost incredible how Harper had a knack for showing up at the worst possible times.

“Hang on just a minute, Harry,” Dallas hit mute and gave her hand a squeeze. “Talk to me.”

Maeve took a moment to process her next steps.

“I guess I have to get to the airport,” she resigned.

“You really think it’s Harper?” Dallas ventured.

Maeve gave him a long glance. “I know it’s Harper. ”

“Well then, we better get going,” he concluded. Flipping the left blinker, he promptly turned the steering wheel.

Maeve was overwhelmed with gratitude for the man beside her. Dallas was not only a constant partner but also a willing participant in the dumpster fire undoubtedly about to unfold.

“Dal, stop,” she said, placing her hand on his forearm. Maeve wished more than anything to let him take the lead with her problematic family, but this was her burden to bear.

“I could use you here,” she insisted, “— to make sure Colton and Wade don’t get themselves in trouble.”

And keep you out of Harper’s crosshairs.

His eyes connected with hers.

“You really want me out of this?”

She nodded, knowing without a doubt he saw right through her flimsy facade. “I need you here.”

While Dallas drove the truck back to the inn, Maeve unmuted the phone call with Harry and let him know she was on her way.

Dallas parked and went around to the passenger side, dropping the key fob in Maeve’s open palm. Putting his hands around her waist, he pulled her into one last tight hug. Having to leave the safety of being tucked away in his arms felt nearly unbearable. Holding her close, he whispered a prayer over her and the journey ahead.

She climbed into the driver’s seat and pressed the ignition. Steering the truck onto the highway, she caught one last glimpse of Dallas in her rearview mirror. How she yearned to call Harry back and let him know Harper was on her own.

That would be the easy way out, and Maeve had determined long ago who she wanted to be. She always stressed to Oakleigh about following the Lord’s leading and trusting him no matter the seemingly insurmountable obstacles there were along the way.

Should I tell Oakleigh?

“I’ll wait,” she whispered. Oakleigh was finally settling in and finding her place, and it made her sick to think what kind of setback Harper’s unexpected visit would inevitably cause. After all, despite the incredibly accurate description, the sheriff could have made a mistake.

It was a fleeting hope.

Lord, help me to put my frustration aside and see her the way you do.

Most of all, she prayed that she wouldn’t lose her temper.

When she finally pulled off at the exit, she filled her lungs with another deep breath. She drove around the airport circle and parked at the curbside pickup. Pushing open her door, she came around to the curb and was immediately met by Deputy Angus.

“Miss, Ma’am — you can’t park there,” Angus lectured, stopping short when he recognized her. “Oh, sorry Miss Maeve.”

“It’s okay, Angus,” she replied.

“That’s some fine truck, Miss Maeve,” he observed, accentuating the compliment with a long whistle. “Is it new?”

“It’s my husband’s,” Maeve answered patiently, knowing it was unlikely for the conversation to move along any quicker than it was. “I got a phone call about — ”

“Oh, Miss Maeve,” he exclaimed. Lifting his hat, he ran his fingers through his shaggy brown hair. “Some terrible woman in there went berserk and said she was your sister,” he shook his head. “I told the Sheriff there was no way that could be true, but he said don’t be too sure.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “We’ve got a bet on it.”

“Sorry, Angus,” Maeve squeezed his shoulder and clicked her tongue against her cheek. “This is one bet you might lose.”

“You don’t say.” Angus’ eyes went wide, and he let out another long whistle.

He ushered her through the nearly empty airport and down a long corridor to the security office. When she approached, Harry was already scowling, spinning a toothpick between his teeth.

“Maeve Callaway,” he blustered. “Just do me this one kindness and tell me that’s not your kin in there so I can drag her sorry — er,” he pivoted, remembering he was in the presence of a lady. “You know, toss her in the drunk tank.”

Maeve tilted her head, taking a long look through the office window. Although disheveled and wearing an absolutely miserable expression, the woman in custody was definitely Harper .

“Not this time, Harry,” she confirmed. “How can I make this up to you?”

“All my years as Sheriff, I’ve learned one thing,” he sighed, waving away her offer. “You aren’t responsible for the actions of others — even if they are your family.” He unclipped the keys off his belt and unlocked the door with a loud clank, holding it open for Maeve to step past.

Pausing in the doorway, Maeve crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder on the frame. “Harp?”

Harper’s eyes shot up to meet hers. For a split second, Maeve thought she saw a brief glint of relief that was quickly overshadowed by an icy glare.

“Well, it’s about time,” Harper spat. “And just where have you been?”

“Oh, you know,” Maeve replied, “just on my honeymoon.” She knew anything remotely significant to her would be utterly meaningless to Harper, but she felt like saying it anyway.

“What are you waiting for?” Harper rose to her feet with her hands still firmly secured behind her in the metal cuffs. “Get these off me.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at Maeve, still holding a glimmer of hope that she would let him take her into custody. Maeve’s lips pulled upward, giving him a quick shake of her head.

Letting out another long sigh, he unlocked the handcuffs.

Harper immediately pulled in her sore wrists, marching out the door without giving them the courtesy of a second glance. She paused only to yank her purse and luggage out of Angus’ hands.

“I’m grateful you were on duty today, Harry,” Maeve acknowledged before following Harper out.

A few paces ahead, Harper swiveled. “You’re grateful for what? Holding me hostage?” she lashed out, with complete disregard that her words were echoing down the hall and through the empty airport.

“Harper, please lower your voice,” Maeve replied, being intentional to remain calm.

“Don’t you tell me what to do,” Harper snarled, causing her voice to become even more shrill and raspy.

“Last chance,” Harry murmured from the side of his mouth, his tone still marked with a bit of hope.

Maeve didn’t dare respond, fearing that Harper’s unpredictable temper might land her back in cuffs. Even her sphere of influence and ability to pull favors had its limits.

She quietly trailed Harper out of the airport and climbed into the driver’s seat. Maeve took the brief moment of peace to capture her feelings while Harper flung her luggage in the back with a loud clunk.

It just wasn’t quite long enough.

Harper yanked the door open and plopped down beside her, whipping the seatbelt across her chest. She dug through her purse, retrieved her sunglasses from the bottom, and pulled them over her eyes .

“Harp?” Maeve gently asked, with futile hopes of de-escalation.

“Just don’t say anything, Maeve,” Harper snapped. Crossing her arms, she leaned her head against the window.

Maeve was rarely scarce on words but opted to stay quiet as she steered the truck toward White Bridge. Keeping her gaze firmly on the road, she stole an occasional glance at Harper from the corner of her eye. Her older sister was thinner than when she had last seen her.

Too thin, really.

Her designer clothing was wrinkled and disheveled, unbecoming of the woman who — even when they were young, had always prided herself in her appearance.

Harper began to snore soundly, with her face pressed against the glass.

Maeve smiled.

If only you knew how much you and Oakleigh are alike.

Maeve turned off the highway at the White Bridge exit just as white snowflakes began peppering the windshield. Winter was hitting earlier than even she had expected. Grateful that the town was nearly empty by that time of the evening, she drove the truck across the bridge and down Main Street.

She pulled into her reserved spot in front of Ruth’s Coffee Shop.

“Here we are,” she announced, loudly enough to rouse her sister .

She awoke with a start, wiping a little drool from the corner of her mouth.

“Harper—” Maeve ventured to ask, knowing it wouldn’t be well received. “Are you okay?”

“That’s none of your business, is it,” Harper bit back. “Where are we anyway?”

“The coffee shop,” Maeve replied.

“A bit of a dump,” Harper critiqued. “I have to give Oakleigh a little credit. She really knows her angles to make this shabby little hovel even remotely charming.”

Maeve allowed the insult to blow right past her, but she wouldn’t miss the chance to compliment Oakleigh. “She deserves a lot of credit,” she remarked, stepping onto the curb.

She pulled open the coffee shop’s door with a loud jingle. Rubbing her chilled hands together, she took a moment to appreciate the warm, comforting scent of cinnamon and freshly ground coffee beans.

Audrey stood behind the counter and greeted her with a cheerful smile.

“Miss Maeve! We weren’t expecting you back ’til Sunday,” she exclaimed, closing the register drawer with a loud chime. “The usual?”

Her eyes finally locked on their newest customer stepping in behind Maeve.

“Oh, it’s — you, ” Audrey blurted, recognizing Harper from that chaotic stormy night at the ranch house when she chose to face the fury of the weather, rather than deal with Harper’s drunken tirade.

Before Harper could inevitably fire off a sharp insult, Maeve felt pressed to protect her most vulnerable employee.

“Audrey,” Maeve said quickly.” “This is my sister.”

“I — well, we’ve met,” Audrey sputtered. “What can I get for you?”

“Small black coffee for both of us,” Maeve replied, observing her sister’s glassy look, hidden poorly behind her dark sunglasses. “Actually, go ahead and make them a large.” She could only imagine Harper was starving after her harrowing day. “Would you like anything to eat? The cinnamon rolls are popular.”

“Does it look like I eat cinnamon rolls?” Harper’s lip curled in disgust.

Maeve knew the line of civility between them was wearing thinner by the second. “Why don’t you sit with me, Harper.” She went to the back of the cafe to her usual spot and slid into the chair.

Harper surprisingly complied, sitting across from her without even a snide remark.

“You sure you don’t want to take off your sunglasses?” Maeve asked, realizing her cadence was one she would use with a toddler. Reminding herself she was speaking with a grown woman who was actually a year older than she was, she corrected her tone. “It’s always a little dark in here. Oakleigh calls it accent lighting. ”

The small talk was as awkward as it felt.

“I know what accent lights are,” Harper seethed. “Where do you think she learned all of this from? She certainly didn’t pick it up in some barn .” Harper looked away out the windows and onto the dimly lit street.

Just at the right time to cut the tension, Audrey brought the giant mugs of black coffee filled to the brim. She set them down on the table with a gentle clink, her steady hands not spilling even a drop.

Harper not only failed to say thank you but ignored her presence entirely, causing Audrey’s contagious positivity to fade. A profound misery emanated from every pore and bled onto anyone with the misfortune of being in Harper’s proximity.

Maeve lifted the heavy mug of coffee to her lips and closed her eyes, taking a long drink. She had missed the taste of good coffee but was missing Dallas even more. When she opened her eyes again, Harper was still scowling. She wished she could say the hurt was gone after all the years of silence between them, but everything in her felt tense and reverberated with wounds still struggling to heal. Maeve couldn’t help but wonder if Harper was even aware of the wreckage she left in her wake.

She steeled herself, venturing to break the weighty silence between them.

“Thanks to Oakleigh, there are several places you can stay in town tonight. I’m sure you’ll want to catch the first flight tomorrow,” she said. “I can have one of the boys pick you up in the morning.” Even as she said it, she quickly reconsidered the offer.

Harper was her problem to deal with.

“I’ll pick you up, actually,” she changed course, rattling off plans with hopes of quickly wrapping up their time together.

Harper unraveled her arms that were wrapped around her like armor. She picked up the large white mug and took her first sip, seeming to savor it. It was the first indication of any emotion besides utter disdain.

“I know you want to get rid of me as soon as possible, Maeve,” she stated. “I’m sure whatever dodgy little motel you have in mind will be fine for the night.” She glanced up, finally making cold eye contact with Maeve.

“Harper, why are you here?” Maeve bit her lip, fighting the urge to say something she knew she might regret. “If it’s money you need —“

Harper shook her head, backpedaling in defense. “Don’t be absurd.” Crossing her legs, she tugged at the collar of her shirt. “Awfully warm in here, Maeve. You really should tell your barista.”

“Her name is Audrey,” Maeve calmly informed. “Let’s get back in the truck, and I can start calling around for vacancies.”

“I’m here to see Oakleigh,” she announced. Harper didn’t appear to be convincing herself, let alone her intuitive younger sister.

Maeve looked down at her nails, picking away a little dirt as she collected her thoughts. She couldn’t help but feel like there was something cracked behind the solid walls Harper had constructed around herself. Even though everything within resisted, it was time to press for answers.

“Harper, I’m not going to ask again.”

“I said —” Harper set her mug down hard and whipped off her sunglasses, revealing that her blue eyes were red and bloodshot. Pressing her lips together, she inhaled deeply.

The ploy of bringing her to a public place seemed to be working.

Harper tilted her head to the side, donning a falsely bright tone and her signature smile. “I’m here for Oakleigh,” she repeated. “I’m allowed to visit my own daughter? Right, Maeve?”

“Of course,” Maeve replied, lifting her mug and taking a drink. “But you made it pretty clear last time that you aren’t interested in a relationship with her.”

“The heat of the moment, Maeve.” Harper rolled her eyes, punctuating her statement with a wave of her hand as though it erased away all of their tumultuous history in one sweep. “We all make mistakes.”

Picking up her coffee, she gave Maeve a knowing glance over the rim of the mug. “You should know all about that.”

Maeve knew Harper wanted a reaction, and she was determined to not grant her wish. She calmly thumbed the handle of the mug, considering her words before she spoke .

“She’s doing really well, Harper. She’s on a good path.” Maeve finally looked up, making her opinion loud and clear. “I’m sure you want to make sure it stays that way.”

Harper raised an eyebrow, giving Maeve a glassy stare.

“It’s what we all want,” Harper shrugged. “Not just you, Maeve.”

Maeve took another long drink of her coffee before setting it down on the rustic tabletop. “You’re welcome to stay at the ranch with a few conditions.”

“Here we go,” Harper said. Crossing her arms, her gaze flicked upward.

“No drinking in my home,” Maeve stated.

“You’re such a prude,” Harper scoffed. “You really haven’t changed at all, Maeve.”

Maeve sat back in her chair. “Then I guess this conversation is over.”

“Fine, no drinking,” Harper echoed, rolling her eyes.

It was a theatrical reaction Maeve recognized well from their teenage years.

“And that’s another thing,” Maeve added. “If you don’t have anything nice to say—“

“You know, despite abandoning Mom for decades,” Harper goaded. “You sure turned out just like her.”

“What’s it going to be?” Maeve challenged.

Harper offered the quickest of shrugs, turning her gaze out the window and onto the street where a line was forming of bundled-up young people, shivering in the quickening snowfall.

“What are those idiots doing in this weather?” Harper asked, swiftly changing the subject. “They’re going to freeze out there.”

“It is a little late in the evening,” Maeve observed. Beaming with a bit of pride, she gently swirled the last of the coffee in her mug. “They’re going to be sorely disappointed today.”

“With the coffee?” Harper quipped. “I have to agree.”

“They’re here for Oakleigh,” Maeve corrected. “It is odd, though.” There was always a steady flow of fans, but it tended to slow during winter — especially since she wasn’t posting in town anymore.

Maeve rose to her feet and squeezed through the crowd of incoming customers. Harper followed closely on her heels, putting her hand in front of each phone camera as though they were solely recording to catch her in the moment.

Stepping past the register, she noticed Audrey was frantically fielding orders.

“Everything okay?” Maeve asked.

“I’m fine,” Audrey answered. “It’s just been a lot lately.” She stopped herself, slamming the cash register closed. “Please don’t tell Oakleigh I said anything.”

“I won’t,” Maeve replied. “But I want you to speak up if you’re overwhelmed.”

Audrey gave her an unconvincing nod .

Maeve pushed open the door, feeling the snap of icy air. She climbed into the truck, taking a moment to process what life at the ranch would look like with her sister now in the picture.

Harper struggled into the passenger seat, her high heels slipping on the slick pavement. Running her palms over the truck’s new leather seats, she flipped down the mirror to check her makeup, grimacing before slamming it back in place.

“This truck is actually not entirely terrible,” Harper admitted. “Where’s that old, blue clunker you used to drive?” she needled, expertly camouflaging her underhanded jab. “At the dump, I hope.”

Maeve inhaled deeply. Keeping her tone even, she refused to take the bait.

“I wrecked it.”