Harvest Moon (Virgin River #15)(56)

“I totally understand,” he said. But then he laughed again.

“Okay, I don’t think you’re that understanding if you’re still laughing…”

“Court, don’t you think I had plenty of fears when I was your age?”

“Like?”

“Geese,” he said. “We have a lake on the farm that used to fill up with Canadian geese every spring and fall—on their way south, on their way north. I used to ride my bike to the bus stop and I couldn’t get past that lake without those sons a bitches chasing me and pecking me to death! My brothers could turn on ’em and chase them back to the lake, but they knew I was scared to death of them and they would not let up!”

“Seriously?” she asked with a laugh. “Geese?”

He frowned at her. “Hey, geese are mean and they’re as big as dogs! And they honk!”

She giggled. “Does anyone know about this?”

He peered at her, sensing he’d just told her something that leveled the playing field between them. “Everyone knows. And in case you’re interested, I’m not afraid of them anymore.”

She laughed at him. “Good for you. My horse phobia is still between us. And I’m not so sure I want to go riding.”

“Up to you,” he said. “Totally up to you. But I’m going to drive over to Jim’s to say hello to the family. Come with me. If something happens to change your mind, we’ll ride.”

“Like what could happen?”

“Well, he could say something like, ‘This is old Gert and she can barely walk, but she can still take a light rider. She just goes real, real slow.’”

She liked that; he could tell by her laugh. When she was little, when her mom was alive, she’d thought he was hysterical. He could always make her laugh. He’d fallen as much in love with Courtney as Lana. One night when he’d held Lana, she’d said to him, “If anything should ever happen to me, please watch over Courtney. Stu is a fool who married a mean stupid fool and I want to know my little girl is okay.” He had said, “You don’t even have to ask!”

“Listen, Court,” Lief said. “You could get bored, I realize that. But I have a huge favor to ask.”

“Oh, boy,” she said, sliding down in her seat.

“It’s about my mom,” he said. “She’s getting really old. She won’t slow down, that’s for sure, but she’s eighty. She’s not going to last forever. I call her, you know. A couple of times a week at least. And you know that call she makes Sunday mornings before she heads to church? She’s so old-fashioned. She allows herself only that one long-distance call a week even though we’ve all told her she doesn’t have to worry about the charges anymore. But on that Sunday call she wants to know two things. How I am, how you are.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Really?” she finally asked.

He nodded. “She’s been so worried about you since your mom died. If you could be nice to her, I’d appreciate it. Every time I see her I think it might be the last time. You don’t have to pretend, but if you could just treat her extra nice, maybe call her Gram like you used to, I think it could make her feel good. I’d take it as a personal favor.”

Again, the quiet. And then she said, “I could do that. But there’s a condition…”

“Ferrari? Porsche?”

She giggled. “I want to see the lake where the geese are. But we’re staying in the truck.”

“Done,” he said. “Thanks, Court.”

Lief’s mother had been expecting them; she was ready for them. “I’m so happy, so happy,” she said, embracing first Courtney and then Lief. “I think people will come by later, just to say hello, then come back tomorrow for turkey.”

“Fantastic,” Lief said. Then his dad came tottering into the kitchen, his newspaper in one hand. If his dad was in the house, the newspaper was attached to his hand. “Dad,” Lief said, pulling him in for a hug. “How’ve you been feeling?”

“Good. Pretty good,” he said. Then he peered at Courtney. “Well, young lady,” he said.

“Well yourself,” she answered. But she granted him a smile.

“He has the arthritis,” Lief’s mom said. “Both knees, both hips.”

“Ain’t much,” Gramp said. “Picked too dang many potatoes, I guess. That’s what I get for my trouble—arthritis.”

“Are you hungry? We could make up some sandwiches.”

“I’m fine, Mom. Ate in the car. Snacked all the way, in fact. Court?”

“Nah. Thanks anyway.”

“Well, then, pour yourself some coffee. Courtney, there’s sodas. I best get back to this baking, get it all done so I can concentrate on the bird tomorrow.”

“Aren’t the girls bringing things?” Lief asked, referring to his sister and sisters-in-law.

“Sure, sure, they bring. They want to bring it all, but what sense does that make? What am I going to do with myself if they bring it all? I do the bird, the bread, and decided I wanted some cookies on hand for the little ones. Son, go get a cup of coffee.”

“I’m going to bring our bags in first,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”