Snow Melts in Spring by Deborah Vogts

Author:Deborah Vogts
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: American Light Romantic Fiction, Religious & spiritual fiction, Fiction - Religious, Christian, Women veterinarians, Christian fiction, Kansas, Christian - Romance, Fiction, Romance, Rural families - Kansas, General & Literary Fiction, Rural families
ISBN: 9780310292753
Publisher: Zondervan
Published: 2009-06-19T02:30:53.489000+00:00

TWENTY-EIGHT

“ONE WOULD NEVER KNOW YOU CARED A WHIT ABOUT YOUR mama — never shed a tear at her grave.” Gil’s dad picked up another shard of the broken teapot.

At the hard tone, Gil froze, incapable of rebuff or movement. He checked Mattie’s stunned expression and a part of him withered in mortification. Would she think him a cold monster, incapable of feeling?

Gil forced himself to break through the icy crust to convince his father and Mattie that he wasn’t that cruel. He gripped his dad’s shoulder. “I never meant . . .”

His father shrugged his hand aside. “Go back to your football. I can clean this up myself.”

Gil stared at the high ceiling, wanting to make things better but not having the foggiest idea how to do so. He dropped his gaze to Mattie and offered a silent apology for putting her in the middle of this horrible mess. “I’m going to check on Dusty. Clear the air. Might do us all some good right now.”

Mattie rose and clutched his elbow. “Want me to go with you?” The warmth in her eyes offered the understanding he yearned for.

But Gil shook his head. “Stay here. You’ll do more for him than I can.”

He left the house and plodded across the snow-laden barnyard, his heart heavy in the crisp, cold air. When he opened the barn door, he spotted Jake on a bale of straw next to Dusty.

“Me and Dusty is having us a little chat.” Jake tapped his knee and grinned. “Us old fogies have a lot in common. His knees hurt, my knees hurt.” He spit a stream of tobacco to the dirt floor next to his father’s blue heeler.

Gil knelt beside the gelding and smoothed a hand across his neck. He could feel Jake’s eyes studying him.

“Been fussing with your dad?”

“How did you know?”

“I watched you grow up, remember? Seen you take your first ride. Not much has changed since then.” Jake scratched his whiskers. “You always wanted to tackle the world. I’m guessing you still do.”

Gil’s brow puckered as he contemplated the cowboy’s words. “I wonder if we’ll ever get along — find that place of harmony where we can both be content, or at least communicate with each other without turning it into a brawl.”

Jake rubbed his worn jeans as though massaging the tired muscles beneath. “Seems to me you always found your peace on the back of a horse. Might be snow on the ground now, but spring will come. There ain’t nothing like spring in the hills — blue skies, fresh green grass, new calves popping out left and right.” He twitched his mouth from side to side, then spit another wad of chew. “I’m thinking there’s harmony right under your nose.” The ranch hand eased from the bale and wiped the dark juice from his mouth. “It’ll come to you; jest have to give it some time — for the snow to melt, so to speak.”

Jake went off to oil saddles while Gil cleaned Dusty’s pen.

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