Montana Hearts. Charlotte Carter

of beef keeps dipping and the bills keep getting bigger. I don’t have time for fun and games.”

      Sarah reached down and plucked a weed from the ground by its roots. “I’ve never had children, so I’m certainly not an expert, but I’d say if you don’t spend time with her now you’ll regret it later.”

      He grunted a noncommital sound.

      Rudy deserted Kurt to sit beside Sarah. She patted his head and scratched behind his ears. “Nice dog.”

      “Rudy used to help me round up the cattle. He herded the kids, too, when they were little and tried to wander off.” He smiled at the memory. “Now he’s too old and he’s got arthritis.”

      “Poor guy.” Continuing to pet the dog, she said, “I was never allowed to have a dog. My parents were afraid I would catch something from an animal.”

      Kurt detected a note of both regret and nostalgia in her voice.

      “Well, I’ve got laundry to do and some dusting. I’d better get busy.”

      She stood and brushed the dirt from the back of her slacks. Not jeans, like the local women wore. But fancy, city-girl slacks. Kurt would guess they weren’t bought out of a catalog either, which is what Zoe had had to do except on their rare trips to Great Falls or Helena where she could shop.

      No wonder she’d hated living out here.

      Brooding, Kurt sat on the porch step for a long time. Finally, when no great revelations came to him, he strolled into the barn. Beth was in the middle of mucking out one of the stalls.

      “What do you want now?” she asked. “I’m gettin’ it done, just like you said.”

      He walked past her and picked up a second shovel. “I was thinking if we worked together we’d get this dirty job done a lot faster. And maybe we could talk.”

      Sarah moved a load of wash into the dryer, shut the lid and pushed the start button.

      Realizing she shouldn’t put off calling Tricia Malone any longer, she stepped into her bedroom and closed the door for privacy. The young woman was taking care of her accounting service while Sarah was away. Although she trusted Tricia’s accounting skills implicitly, she wanted to make sure her clients continued to be happy with the service they received.

      She picked up her cell phone. For a moment she marveled how cleverly a twelve-year-old girl had conned her into believing there was no cell service out on the range. Beth certainly had a chip on her shoulder. But what preteen wouldn’t be upset, the loss of her mother coinciding with the onset of her own puberty. Poor kid!