Triple Creek Ranch - Part 4

Well Friday Fiction Fans,
Did
you think I had forgotten it was Friday? Don't worry, I didn't. Blogger
wasn't working, so I had to wait. But now it is up again, I'll give you
the next part of "Triple Creek Ranch." At least unless I hear a better
name for the ranch, that is what I'll call it. Thank you Christian and
Noah for your suggestions. As you can see, I used both of your
suggestions.:)

This
week I've been trying to write a story that a friend gave me the
instructions for. I had gotten the first part done, but then was stuck
for quite a while. I think I'm nearing the end of it though I'm still
unsure why she did what she did.:)

For
those of you who left comments on Wednesday, thanks.:) Sorry, I can't
make Thursday and Friday into Westerns, I mean Wednesdays.:) Just be
glad I'm giving you one every week now.:) I'm reading a book on how to
write a novel and finding out that I'm not doing to badly on the
Western.:) I am about ready to get it finished though. But don't hold
your breath. I still have a ways to go. :} I'm not sure how long, since
Ty, Carson and Sally often end up doing the unexpected, but we should
be at least half way, I think.

But here I am rambling on and on. I'll just stop and let you read the next part of the story.

Part 4

Orlena continued with a slight pout on her pretty face as she
was seated at the table, “I suppose you will have to rush off as usual
to that ridiculous ranch tomorrow. Or do you have to go today?” Without
giving her brother a chance to so much as agree or disagree, she went
on. “You never do stay long. I sometimes think you must not like me. I
don’t see what you find to interest you way out in the middle of
nowhere. Now, if you would only move to the city I’m sure you would
soon become a brother I could be proud of showing to my friends. Why
don’t you stay in town, Norman?” “You forget I’m married, Orlena.” The
reply was slightly cold although Norman was striving to keep his temper
under control. “Oh well, of course you can send for your wife. I think
it is about time I met my sister. Why didn’t you bring her with you? Is
she afraid of the city? I have heard all country girls are.” How fast
Orlena’s tongue could fly. Mrs. O’Connor, watching the brother and
sister, could see the growing set of Norman’s face and caught a glimpse
of the flash in his eyes which he tried to keep directed towards his
plate. As for Orlena, her pert mouth and the haughty toss of her head
made the housekeeper predict to herself that Orlena was setting herself
up for a clash of arms with her brother. She knew who would win in the
end, for Norman had the upper hand this time in that he was now
Orlena’s guardian, but who would triumph in this first skirmish was yet
to be seen. At last Norman broke in to his sister’s chatter. “Orlena,
suppose you eat and let me talk for a little while seeing as how I have
finished and you have scarcely begun.” A sniff came from across the
table. “How can I eat when I miss Grandmother,” whimpered Orlena. “You
don’t know what it is like to be left all alone to the mercy of
servants who think they can do what they please now. I have been
perfectly miserable. There was no one to talk to and--” another sniff
ended the complaint. “I am very sorry for the loss of Grandmother,”
began Norman, trying to speak kindly. “And I didn’t think you would
ever come,” whined the spoiled child across from him. “Why do you have
to go back to that horrid, old ranch and--” “Orlena! Be quiet.” The
stern voice starled her into silence, but only for a moment. “Oh, how
can you talk to me that way?” she wailed. “You don’t love me. No one
does!” and with her handkerchief to her eyes she rushed out of the room
slamming the door behind her. Not until the distant slam of Orlena’s
door was also heard, did Norman move. Then, after a deep sigh, he begn
to drum his fingers on the table, a habit he had when perplexed.
Looking over at Mrs. O’Connor, he gave a slight smile. “That didn’t go
so well. What do I do now?” Mrs. O’Connor wisely kept silent knowing
that no word of hers would be needed and Norman didn’t expect an
answer. Rising from the table, he slowly moved from the room with head
bowed. Had he spoken in haste things which he should repent of? Going
back over the few words he did speak, Norman didn’t think so. How was
he to talk to Orlena? It must be done, and the sooner things were clear
between them, the better it would be for both brother and sister.
Before going to Orlena’s room, Norman slipped into his own and spent
some time in prayer. Soon after, Norman knocked gently on his sister’s
door. “Who is it?” crossly demanded Orlena. “It is me, please open the
door, Sis.” “Go away, I don’t want to talk to you!” “But we need to
talk. Come on, Orlena,” was the patient reply, “either let me in or go
with me to another room were we can talk alone.” For a long minute all
was still. Norman wasn’t at all sure if Orlena would open the door or
not. “What if I don’t want to talk to you?” The question, though still
somewhat testy, held an element of wonder in it, as though Orlena
really wanted to know if her brother would let her have her own way or
not. “Then I’m sorry, for I must talk with you.” There was something in
Norman’s voice which seemed to compel compliance
though it was neither stern nor harsh. Slowly the door opened and
Orlena appeared with a pout. “Do you want to talk here or somewhere
else?” Norman asked gently. Orlena shrugged, then held open the door
into her little sitting room. It was only after they were both sitting,
Orlena curled up in a chair like a little kitten ready to spit and
scratch if its fur was rubbed the wrong way, and her brother in a chair
opposite, that Norman began. “I’ve been going over affairs with
Grandmother’s lawyer,” he began slowly, “and things are going to
change, drastically I’m afraid. For one, this house is going to be
closed. There is no need to keep it open and pay for the help needed to
run it when none of us will be here. Mr. Athey is going to see if he
can find a family to rent it until such a time as we might want it
again.” Pausing a moment to look at his sister, Norman was surprised to
find her seemingly indifferent to this news. Encouraged by this he
continued, waiting and bracing himself, however, for the explosion he
felt sure would come sometime, though uncertain which news would be the
match to light it. “You will be leaving with me, in two days, for the
ranch--” Orlena bounced from her chair, eyes flashing. The match had
been lit.

Questions?