Caribou Crossing Read Free

move, all the changes over the past months, he asked quietly, “Do you think it was too much for Miriam? Us moving to the ranch and all?” He’d vowed to protect his wife, and he’d failed.
    â€œShe’s not like your mother, Wade.” Her voice was even. “She’s strong, she’s always been healthy.”
    His mother was strong-minded and loving, but physically frail. Back in the fall she’d had a really bad spell and the doctor said the climate was too harsh for her. That’s when his folks decided to retire early and move to Phoenix.
    â€œYou and Miriam always knew Bly Ranch would be yours,” his mother-in-law went on. “It just happened a lot sooner than you expected.” She stifled a yawn and rested her head against the back of her chair.
    â€œA hell of a lot sooner.” His pa wasn’t even sixty yet, and Wade had figured that it’d be another twenty, thirty years before he and Miriam would take over Bly Ranch—and that they’d inherit it, clear title.
    â€œIt was the only thing that worked for everyone.”
    â€œYeah.” His parents had had to finance their move and buy a home down south, not to mention anticipate their living expenses for the rest of their lives, so they couldn’t afford to just give the ranch to Wade and Miriam. They’d given them half, though. Using the down payment he and Miriam had been saving for a house in town, the two of them had obtained a mortgage. A hellacious mortgage that’d have them pinching pennies for years to come.
    Rose’s voice broke into his musings. “Last time I spoke to your mom, she said she was feeling so much better.”
    â€œI know. It’s great.”
    â€œShe said they’re both learning golf.” She closed her eyes and this time a yawn did escape.
    Wade yawned, too, trying to fight against his exhaustion so he’d be awake when Miriam opened her eyes. “So I heard.” He couldn’t picture his hardworking rancher pa on a golf course. But his father would do anything to look after his mom. That was what husbands did for the women they loved. Wade reached for the foul coffee, took another sip. It did nothing to combat his weariness or his sense of guilt.
    In a drowsy voice, Rose said, “Miriam loves the ranch.”
    â€œI know.” He’d close his eyes and rest them for just a second.
    â€œShe was so excited about moving out there last December.”
    â€œShe was.” He smiled as a memory came into his mind.

    Wade unlocked and opened the front door of the log ranch house. On this crisp December afternoon two weeks before Christmas, the sun glinted off the snow, making sparkles that matched up with Wade’s mood. Anticipation—not just of the next moments but of the years ahead—coursed through him. He hoisted his wife, heavy winter coat, boots, and all, into his arms.
    Miriam laughed. “Really? You’re going to carry me over the threshold?”
    He gazed at her, even more beloved than on the day he’d married her eight years earlier. Miriam was everything to him: vital, cheerful, loving. “You got an objection, Mrs. Bly?”
    She beamed at him. “Not a single one, Mr. Bly.”
    An impatient girlish voice from behind them said, “Hurry up. I want to get changed and go riding.”
    â€œHold your horses, Jessie,” he said. This was momentous and he wanted to savor it. Bly Ranch—his childhood home, his heritage—was all theirs. Well, theirs and the bank’s, with a mortgage so huge he didn’t even want to think about it. And he wouldn’t, because everything would work out. It always did, for him and Miriam.
    Look at Jessica, their seven-year-old. No, they hadn’t planned on having kids until much later, but she’d come along anyway. And they’d hit the jackpot with this beautiful girl who had his chestnut hair and brown eyes, and her mom’s plucky