Black Hills

Jean-Paul for nearly two years. Not counting the times she’d been traveling—or he’d been traveling—in different directions.
    So she could handle sharing her corner of the world with a childhood sweetheart. Really, that’s what they’d been, all they’d been. It was simple, even sweet, she decided.
    And they’d keep it that way.
    She dressed in the borrowed sweater and jeans, and lulled by the bath, the wine, her old room, opted to take a power nap. Twenty minutes, she told herself as she stretched out.
    She slept like the dead for three hours.
     
     
     
    THE NEXT MORNING, she woke in the hour before dawn, rested and ready. Because she hit the kitchen before her parents, she made breakfast—her specialty. When her father walked in for coffee, she had bacon and home fries in the skillet, and eggs already whisked in a bowl.
    Handsome, his hair still full and thick, Joe sniffed the air like one of his hounds. He pointed a finger at her. “I knew there was a reason I was glad you’re back. I figured I’d be eating instant oatmeal for breakfast.”
    “Not when I’m around. And since when have you had to eat instant anything in this house?”
    “Since your mother and I compromised a couple months ago and I agreed to eat oatmeal twice a week.” He gave her a mournful look. “It’s healthy.”
    “Ah, and this was oatmeal day.”
    He grinned and gave her long ponytail a tug. “Not when you’re around.”
    “Okay, full cholesterol plate for you, then I’ll help you with the stock before I ride over to the refuge. I made enough for Farley, assuming he’d be here. Does oatmeal put him off ?”
    “Nothing puts Farley off, but he’ll be grateful to get the bacon and eggs. I’ll ride over with you this morning.”
    “Great. Depending on how things go, I’m going to try to drive over and see Sam and Lucy. If you need anything from town I can head in, take care of it.”
    “I’ll put a list together.”
    Lil forked out bacon to drain as her mother came in. “Just in time.”
    Jenna eyed the bacon, eyed her husband.
    “She made it.” Joe pointed at Lil. “I can’t hurt her feelings.”
    “Oatmeal tomorrow.” Jenna gave Joe a finger-drill in the belly.
    Lil heard the stomp of boots out on the back porch, and thought: Farley.
    She’d been in college when her parents had taken him on—taken him in was more accurate, she thought. He’d been sixteen, and on his own since his mother took off and left him, owing two months’ back rent in Abilene. His father, neither he nor his mother had known. He’d only known the series of men his mother had slept with.
    With some vague idea of going to Canada, young Farley Pucket ducked out on the rent, hit the road, and stuck out his thumb. By the time Josiah Chance pulled over and picked him up on a road outside of Rapid City, the boy had thirty-eight cents in his pocket and was wearing only a Houston Rockets windbreaker against the wicked March winds.
    They’d given him a meal, some chores to work it off, and a place to sleep for the night. They’d listened, they’d discussed, they’d checked his story as best they could. In the end, they’d given him a job, and a room in the old bunkhouse until he could make his way.
    Nearly ten years later, he was still there.
    Gangly, straw-colored hair poking out from under his hat, his pale blue eyes still sleepy, Farley came in with a blast of winter cold.
    “Whoo! Cold enough to freeze the balls off—” He broke off when he saw Jenna, and his cheeks pinked from cold flushed deeper. “Didn’t see you there.” He sniffed. “Bacon? It’s oatmeal day.”
    “Special dispensation,” Joe told him.
    Farley spotted Lil and broke out in a mile-wide grin. “Hey, Lil. Didn’t figure you’d be up yet, all jet-lagged and stuff.”
    “’Morning, Farley. Coffee’s hot.”
    “It sure smells good. Gonna be clear today, Joe. That storm front tracked east.”
    So as it often did, morning talk turned to weather, stock, chores. Lil settled down with her breakfast, and thought in some ways it was as if she’d never been away.
    Within the hour, she was mounted beside her father and riding the trail to the refuge.
    “Tansy tells me Farley’s been putting in a lot of volunteer hours at the refuge.”
    “We all try to lend a hand, especially when you’re away.”
    “Dad, he’s got a crush on her,” Lil said, speaking of her college roommate and the zoologist on staff.
    “On Tansy? No.” He laughed it off. Then