“I think I’ll be happy wherever my family is.”
She doesn’t say anything, and when I look up, I’m surprised she’s not smiling. Her forehead is lined, and she only nods. “It’s a hard decision to make right now—in the summer when you’re in love. Now with a baby on the way… Maybe Stuart is right. Maybe you need to give it more thought.”
I’m ready to argue, to explain what I meant, but she heads to the door. “I’ll let you get dressed. Whatever happens, you still need a doctor. Winona can give us a recommendation, and I’m happy to make you an appointment. We can go into town tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” I say as she disappears through the door.
Looking again at my reflection, I think ahead six months to when we’ll be holding our baby. I meant what I said. I’ll be happy wherever my family is.
* * *
Stuart
Bert & Ernie’s Tavern and Grill has brick walls, wooden booths, and brass-lantern-style lights hanging from the ceiling. A shelf holding what looks like a bottle of every kind of beer ever made runs along the ceiling, and it’s noisy and boisterous as a growing dinner crowd filters in. Evan Robertson is at a long table in the back with two younger men who look like his sons.
The last time I saw Evan was during the Chinook last December. The weather phenomenon drives strong winds down from the mountains, raising temperatures dramatically and causing some animals to panic. His herd of beef cattle mixed with buffalo stampeded, and I’d joined Bill and a team of local ranchers and hands to help round them up.
“Bill,” Evan stands as we approach. A smile crosses his face at the sight of me. “Stuart! I wasn’t expecting you. It’s been a while.”
“Stuart and his fiancée are in town visiting.” Bill shakes the man’s hand and pulls out a chair. I do the same.
“These are my two boys, Ryan and Cal,” he gestures to the men. “Here, let me buy you a drink.”
“Pepsi for me,” Bill says.
“Stuart?” Evan pivots, giving my shoulder a firm grip. “You’ll take something stronger I know.”
“Johnnie Walker,” I pull out a chair beside my uncle, across from the Robertsons.
A waitress dressed in a tight white tee and black short-shorts appears to take our drink orders. Ryan, the younger of the two sons, makes a low whistle.
She gives him a wink. “What can I get you boys?”
“Stay and eat with us,” Evan says to Bill. “The blue-cheese Angus burger will make you fire Winona.”
“I doubt it,” my uncle says with a chuckle, giving me a glance.
I shrug. “Sure.”
Several minutes later, I’m halfway through my scotch when five servings of burgers, onion rings, and poutine are placed in front of us.
“I haven’t had poutine in years,” I say, scooping up a French fry covered with gravy and cheese curds. The burger I ordered is hearty angus cut by the soapy-creamy flavor of blue cheese. It’s delicious.
“Well?” Evan grins, watching my uncle lean back from his Hades burger, a thick beef patty covered with jalapenos and cucumber ranch.
“I’ll have to drive Winona out here for lunch,” he says slowly. His neighbor breaks into a laugh.
Cal laughs loudly before taking a long sip of his draft beer. I cut my eyes at the guy, not sure what I think of him. Both of Evan’s sons come across as immature, and I figure their father won’t be turning his cattle ranch over to them any time soon.
Once we’ve finished eating, the conversation turns from last year’s Chinook and the subsequent round-up to how severe everyone’s predicting the coming winter to be, until finally we arrive at the business that brought us here. Fresh pints of draft are placed in front of the three Robertsons. I get a refill on my whiskey.
“You know I don’t mind a monthly grazing fee,” Evan says, taking a sip of his brew. “But that’s a couple hundred acres of prime grassland going unused since you slowed down the ranch.”
Bill’s eyes are on the table. His elbow is bent, and I watch as he strokes his mustache thinking.
Evan presses forward. “Conway and I are considering a merger. He’s got fifty head of bison and a contract with Gordon’s. It’s a large demand to meet.”
Conway Hendricks’s large spread borders Bill’s to the north. He also joined the roundup last year, along with a few of his hired hands.