Next World Series , Ewing, K. [classic books for 12 year olds txt] 📗

mountain. “I’m getting too old for this!”

Drake floated down behind him, like he was walking straight down a flat paved highway, like a mountain goat on the side of a cliff, I thought.

“Listen,” I told them once they were down. “Just listen…this is a million-dollar stereo.”

They did, and to my amazement we all listened for another few minutes—before any adults spoke, at least.

“Do you want to hear it now or back at the MacDonalds’ place—what we saw, I mean?” asked Mac.

“If it’s everything, then at their place, I guess, so you don’t have to tell it twice.”

“All right, let’s pack up then, if everyone is ready,” replied Mac.

I could have stayed another four hours or four days, but I had a visit to the hospital and Dr. Melton before the day’s end, and I didn’t want to keep her late at the office.

* * * *

Willie MacDonald was hot, and I mean livid—not that the fire was visible and likely heading this way, threatening his homestead. It turns out Ralph and his dysfunctional merry group of misfits were alive and well on Willie’s hunting property. His wife got on him—nodding towards the little ones, mine and Joy’s to be exact—about his colorful language.

Mac couldn’t see faces from the mountain, he told them, even with the binoculars, but was pretty sure he saw Ralph and was confident he saw the rest of the group. They had two deer strung up in front of the main house and looked to be harvesting them both.

“I don’t even have one deer here,” complained Willie. “I told you that was the best hunting camp on the mountain, and you still gave it to them,” he spat to his wife.

“Oh, hush up, Willie,” she said. “You haven’t even been out of the house in a week. How are you going to kill a deer from your lounge chair anyway?”

“Oh, burn,” said Jax, quietly getting a look from both Joy and me.

I loved hearing Mrs. MacDonald talk. She was just like Joy—confident, no-nonsense, and usually right.

* * * *

Mac towed me straight down the mountain and right to the hospital parking lot.

“Wait here just a minute,” he told me, disappearing inside the lobby doors.

“I’ve got a live one for you, honey,” he said to Sarah.

“It’s ‘Dr. Melton’ here, and maybe you could bring me tea sometime, or a cup of coffee? I do remember your bringing me flowers once.”

“Sorry about that,” he replied, embarrassed. “This is a hospital, though, am I right?” he joked. “It’s Lance with a dislocated shoulder, is all.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes, I pretty much fixed it anyway, so maybe just put a Band-Aid on it,” he called back, heading out the door. “Don’t forget dinner tonight,” he hollered, blowing her a kiss.

* * * *

“Drake,” Mac called on the radio, “can you meet me at the spot?”

“Sure thing,” he replied, “but which one?”

“The one we both should be heading to today.”

“Oh yes, that one,” replied Drake. “Good thinking. Meet you there in 30…”

Mac and Drake each picked a full bouquet of wildflowers.

“Mr. MacDonald may not be too happy when you bring those by,” said Mac, laughing.

“I thought about that, but I’ve got a secret weapon,” replied Drake, with a grin.

“Yeah, what’s that?” asked Mac.

“Two bouquets!”

They parted ways at the fork in the road, one heading up and the other back down.

* * * *

Drake presented one bouquet to Whitney and the other to Mrs. MacDonald, who in turn invited him to stay for supper. Willie even let him take Whitney for a short walk around the property after dinner.

“You like that boy now, don’t you?” his wife asked him.

“He’s not all bad, I guess, and they say it’s better to know something about a guy who likes your granddaughter than nothing about another one. I will be keeping an eye on him, though—count on that.”

* * * *

Mac had planned his proposal for weeks, trying to find just the right spot. He even bought a ring off one of The West members who made jewelry. It was nearly a month ago now and he carried it everywhere he went. Today he found the perfect spot up on the mountain and vowed to take her up there sometime soon. It was his mother’s voice he heard on the way down the mountain today.

“Son, it’s time. Not tomorrow or weeks down the road, but today. How long will you carry that ring around? Ask her to marry you, and I just know she will say yes.”

* * * *

Returning straight to the hospital, he couldn’t wait until dinner, with nerves possibly getting the best of him.

“Can I see you for a minute?” he asked her, as she finished looking at my arm.

“Excuse me, Lance, for a minute, please.”

I overheard an always outwardly confident man fumble his way through a tradition every engaged couple knows well. I heard the ring drop on the smooth hospital floor but only bouncing once.

“Good catch,” I whispered.

“Notice something different about Dr. Melton?” Mac asked me minutes later, as they walked in.

“Congratulations to you both!” I replied, pointing to the ring on her finger.

They would be married by week’s end in the first wedding most in the Valley had attended in this New-World. The timing was perfect, and all seemed right with the world for a few more months…before the change…

* * * * * * *

The next eight months were hard, maybe not harder than the beginning but different and unexpected. It is a story, however, that must be told.

 

The first summer on the now-combined Saddle Ranch and The West was easy—carefree, some may say, but all knew something was off.

The pieces of the puzzle were slightly warped