You Belong Here Now by Dianna Rostad

Author:Dianna Rostad
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2021-01-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

THE NORTH WIND HAD COME TO PAY THEM ALL A VISIT. PARCHING and relentless, it would dry up every lick of moisture in the air and overstay its welcome just like the Stewarts had promised. Fall had just barely begun, but already Papa talked about how they would get a real taste of Montana come winter and something about blizzards. But not to worry, he would tie a rope from the bunkhouse to the outhouse. Patrick and Charles had just looked at each other. Then Papa started laughing, told them they would learn “the true meaning of a chapped butt.” Since the probation period had expired and Charles, Patrick, and Opal were officially adopted, everyone had felt a little lighter until now.

Charles rode up a dusty trail to Ivar’s place, licking his chapped lips. It was nothing more than a small log cabin. There was a barn to the west of the cabin, a bunkhouse that was smaller than the Stewarts’, a corral, an outhouse, and not much more. The chicken coop leaned over a little to one side trying to spit out all the chickens. One lonely pine tree stood near the cabin, half its limbs gone brown.

The porch boards felt soft and rotten under his feet. He glanced down and kept to the more solid boards as he approached the door.

Ivar opened the door before he could knock. Those icy eyes reflected the waning afternoon light.

“Heard you ride up.” Ivar stepped out. “Well, we best get to it. It’ll be dark before long.”

Charles remounted the gelding he’d been given, took up his reins, and followed Ivar, hoping Patrick stayed away from home, so he would be spared the first night. Patrick had been out with the mustangs more often as school became harder. Charles had to tell an outright lie to Nara today about Patrick’s whereabouts and was glad Opal hadn’t said anything. Somebody had taught her to keep quiet.

They rode through rocky terrain, and bit by bit the ponderosa pines disappeared. The soil out here looked infertile compared to the lushness of the Stewarts’ range. Sagebrush thrived, crowding the trails, but not much else. He wondered how many head Ivar had lost to bloat this year. Seeing things out here made Charles realize how lucky they’d been to wind up on the Stewarts’ ranch.

The wind breathed down heavy on them, whipping away the sounds of everything all around. If someone got lost out here, their cries for help would never be heard. Charles shivered, following Ivar as he rode on for a good thirty minutes, when the wind stopped for a moment. Ivar burst out, “Whoa!”

Yipping noises reached them from the west beyond some rocks. Charles turned in his saddle to hear better. One sounded like a squeaky door, another yipped, and a third one moaned. All together, they sang a grieving memorial for a thing they hadn’t killed yet.

“Damn coyotes,” Ivar growled. “Follow me.”

“What will we do if we see them?”

“Shoot ’em. They’ve been picking off my calves.

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