them up to dry on a line she'd rigged outside. She real y needed to go to a washateria soon--
this hand-washing a few pieces of clothing every other day sucked big time.
After she scarfed down a peanut butter sandwich for lunch, Caitlyn decided to repot a couple of her precious plants. There was a fern from her mother's funeral and a variegated ivy from her father's. She tenderly nurtured both plants, feeling closer to her parents by the very act of taking care of them.
The soft roar of a truck engine floated on the hot summer breeze. Reba barked at the vehicle making its way from the direction of the southernmost hangar. Caitlyn hadn't yet traveled on the narrow dirt road that seemingly led nowhere. Pete had told her it meandered through the pastures for several miles until it stopped at the big ranch house where Tyler's mother lived.
Caitlyn hadn't had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. McCade yet. The woman had been out of town the past couple of weeks. As she watched the pickup truck turn into the compound and park right in front of her camper, that lapse seemed likely to be remedied in the next couple of minutes.
Ruth McCade was a widow and the matriarch of the family. Together with her five children, she owned the sixty-four hundred-acre Diamondback Ranch. Tyler's crop dusting company was located on his portion of the land.
Brushing the dirt from her hands, Caitlyn set the freshly potted ivy on the new plastic patio table she'd bought in town last week. Hoping she didn't have smudges of potting soil on her face, Caitlyn turned to greet her guest.
"You must be Tyler's mother," she said, extending her hand. "I'm Caitlyn Ross. So glad to final y meet you."
Ruth clasped Caitlyn's hand and shook it up and down. "Nice to meet you, too. I've been visiting my sisters down in Austin and Temple and just got back home a couple of days ago. Pete's told me al about you. Not only that you're mighty pretty, but you're also a good pilot and mechanic. Pete couldn't praise you enough. He's a sweetheart, isn't he? And such a responsible young man."
Caitlyn nodded. "Yes, I like Pete. He'l go places; I just know it."
"I know it, too. His mother wil miss him when he goes off to col ege in the fal . Anyway, I don't know why Tyler hasn't brought you over to the big house so we could get acquainted. I'm mighty worried about that boy, let me tel you. It's taking a long time for his legs to heal from the crash. He's going plumb stir-crazy not being able to fly." Pul ing a tissue from her apron pocket, Ruth dabbed at her eyes.
Caitlyn was at a loss as to what to do or say. "I'm sorry Mrs. McCade--"
"Cal me Ruth, darlin', everybody does. Except my children, of course." She blew her nose. "I tel you, I'm just beside myself about Tyler. Thank God, he found you to pilot for him. He's hired several other pilots since the accident, but something always seemed to come up and off they'd go. No staying power. You'l stay on, won't you, dear? Until he's back on his feet?"
"Yes, of course. I'm here for the duration."
"Oh, thank the Lord," Ruth said. "It's already going on past seven months since the crash, and Tyler's no nearer getting better now than when it first happened."
"I was under the impression he's much better than he was at first. Here, sit down." Caitlyn guided Ruth to one of the green plastic chairs she'd bought to go with the table. "Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? Water?"
Ruth blew her nose one last time and stuffed the tissue back in her pocket. "A little tea would be welcome. Except I hate to put you to the trouble.
Lands' sakes, I don't know what's gotten into me."
"No trouble at al . One glass of iced tea, coming right up."
"Oh, please join me. I don't want to be an imposition."
Caitlyn smiled. "Don't worry. You're not imposing. I'm glad to final y meet you. You sit here while I get the tea."
When she returned from the camper, Caitlyn set a tal iced-tea glass in front of Ruth. "Here you go," she said, plopping down in the