Johnny

Scott resumed his relaxed posture against the tree trunk. “All right. Let's talk about Johnny.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “When did I change my name to Johnny?”

“Honestly, Scott…”

“Ah, so I didn't change my name. It’s still ‘Honestly Scott.’ Good.”

“I asked a perfectly legitimate question.”

“A legitimate question if we were talking about me - which we are not. You wanted to discuss Johnny.”

“How do you know when you’re in love?”

A whinny from Boots requested Scott’s attention. ‘May as well relax, boy. The afternoon just got longer.’ He thought for a moment before answering. “When you're not questioning if it's love then there's a real good chance it is.” A dimpled grin grew on Scott’s face. “Now that was a profound statement.”

Kinsey sat up from her reclined position and focused on the picked wildflower she twirled between her two fingers. “I don't think I'll make a good wife.”

“Why do you say that, Freckles?”

“Well, to begin with I'm like a lit stick of dynamite in the kitchen.”

“I disagree. Dynamite causes immediate obliteration. You’re more like a prairie dust devil. You start out small then gather strength while sucking in objects and innocent victims until you are a devastating tornado that leaves behind a wide path of destruction - and burnt food.”

Kinsey grinned. “It appears your statements can be profound and insightful.”

“I hate to brag.”

Scott watched his cousin toss aside her wildflower and reach out to pick another.

“Johnny said he’s fallen in love with me. But I think you already know that.”

“I do. But what I don’t know is your response when you found out how he felt.”

“I really didn’t give him one. I was too busy getting dressed.”

Scott sighed and crossed his arms. “Let me guess. Martin’s Lake. Skinny-dipping. Nothing happened. I swear, I’m locking you in your room and throwing away the key.” Reaching down, he retrieved one of the stones that had served as a paperweight and tossed it at an invisible target. “Actually, I do know nothing happened because you have self-respect.” Scott sternly pointed at his cousin’s nose. “And don’t you ever toss aside your self-respect on a whim.” Another stone was selected and tossed. “Then there’s Johnny knowing not to take advantage of the situation. Besides…” A third stone joined the first two. “I think you're aware of the uncomfortable discussion we would have if I found out differently.”

“Yes, I'm aware.”

Scott reached for the final stone. ‘No. I don't think you are aware. I think you're still under the impression you can do whatever you want whenever you want as long as you believe you're right.’

“Has Johnny been in love with other girls?”

Instead of throwing the last of the paperweights, Scott examined the stone as he decided the best way to answer his cousin’s question. “In the past, there were a few girls Johnny has been very fond of. One young lady might have meant more to him than the others.”

“Johnny is a complicated romantic.”

Laughing, Scott threw the stone. “That’s an interesting way of putting it.”

“I was trying to be profound and insightful.”

“You need more practice.”

For the next few minutes, Scott watched his cousin select the different field flowers and grasses springing up around her to begin weaving a crown. “Who taught you to do that?”

“Winnie.”

Picking a few Queen Anne’s Lace growing within his reach, he tossed them on Kinsey’s pile of flowers. ‘Winifred.’ Scott smiled. ‘Thank you for stopping by to assist me in this conversation.’

“Johnny says I make him laugh.”

“You do, Kinsey. He enjoys your company very much - as you do his. At least I think you enjoy spending time with him.”

Kinsey nodded and continued to weave flowers into the crown. “Yes, I do. He’s fun...exciting...daring...not to mention rather handsome.”

Scott watched a cloud drift across the horizon. ‘That’s exactly what the girls in town say.’

“But I don't think we can make each other happy.”

“Tell me why.”

“I feel the person Johnny wants me to be and the person I'm going to become are two different people.”

“You know, there’s always some compromise in a relationship...the need to build bridges to span the gaps.”

“Ours is a ravine, not a gap.” Kinsey worked on weaving in the last of her wildflowers. “I’m not in love with him, Scott, and I believe it’s best if I stop trying to be. It’s not fair to Johnny.”

“No, it's not. Unfair to you too. Would you like me to talk to him?”

“It should be me. I will this evening...after supper.”

She tossed her hat aside. Scott smiled as his cousin donned her flower crown.

“Freckles, you will be a beautiful bride someday.”

“And a good cook.”

“Let’s establish realistic goals, shall we?”

Lancer Ranch, San Joaquin Valley

Johnny was not at the breakfast table this morning. According to my father, he volunteered to work on the fence line out by the river and will be staying at the line shack for a few days. He had left before daybreak. Kinsey was also missing. She had skipped breakfast and opted for an morning walk. Murdoch seemed to have knowledge of the situation with his youngest son and my cousin but wasn’t concerned. He said a time of separation will be good for both of them. I agreed, which is why Kinsey and I will be leaving for the vineyards beyond Stockton before Johnny returns.

~ S.