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Their Night to Remember

Page 9

by Judy Duarte


  “Callie thinks she’s in labor. She’s having some contractions, so we’re meeting her obstetrician at the hospital.”

  “Oh, no.” Alana gripped the phone tight. It was too early. Six weeks or more. Anything could go wrong, especially with a twin birth. “I’ll meet you guys there. I mean, I won’t barge in on you, but I...”

  “Alana. Don’t give it another thought. Callie wants you with us.”

  Of course she did. That’s what friends were for. When Callie had given birth to Micah, her firstborn, Alana had been there. And Callie had been there the next year, when Alana had lost her first baby.

  Her hands trembling, Alana ended the call. Then she turned to Clay. “I need to go to the hospital. Callie’s in labor. Early. We’ll talk later.”

  “Sure.” He nodded toward the door leading to the living room and the rest of the house. “Get ready and grab whatever you’ll need. I’ll drive you.”

  She would have declined his offer, but her head was spinning and her heart was racing like a stock car driver barreling his way to the finish line. So she shouldn’t drive herself. Why risk a speeding ticket or an accident?

  On top of that, she had the health and safety of her own baby to consider.

  “Okay. Thanks, Clay. I’ll grab my purse.”

  “Better throw some things into an overnight bag. This could take a while.”

  Alana was so focused on rushing to her friend’s bedside that they’d gotten nearly ten miles down the road before something about Clay’s comment struck an odd chord in her mind.

  How would he know that this might take a while? Did he have experience with a woman in labor?

  * * *

  The old ranch pickup bumped and chugged along the country road that led to the hospital in Kalispell. Other than the noise of the engine that needed a tune-up, silence filled the cab.

  Clay had plenty of questions he wanted to ask, but the worry etched across Alana’s face and the way she wrung her hands in her lap stopped him from even broaching the conversation they’d had earlier.

  Instead, he told her about the leak he’d spotted in the pump that supplied water to the pasture where the few cattle she had left grazed.

  “It’s not a bad one,” he said, “but it’ll need to be fixed. And I also found some loose fence posts along the edge of the property in the south forty.”

  She let out a groan, then gave her shoulders a roll. “I’ve finally been able to pay Grandpa’s back taxes, but no matter what I do or what repairs I make, my to-do list continues to get longer.”

  It went without saying that the costs of getting the ranch up and running again continued to grow, too. Clay shot a glance across the seat to where Alana sat gazing out the passenger window as the countryside drifted by.

  “Those repairs don’t need to be made today,” he said. “You can put them off for a while. But I wouldn’t wait too long. That leak is only going to get worse.”

  “I know what you must be thinking,” she said. “I’ve heard it before from the guy who wants to buy the ranch. He told me to take the money he offered and buy a new house in town.”

  That wasn’t a bad idea, although he sensed he’d better keep that thought to himself. “It’s not like you have to repair everything at once.”

  At that, she turned toward him, her eyes filled with a different kind of worry. “How much do you think it’ll take to fix the pump and replace those posts?”

  “Actually, I made a mental note of the parts you’ll need. Since I can fix them myself, it shouldn’t cost more than four or five hundred dollars.”

  He turned down the road toward town. Hey. How about that? He may not know who in the hell he really was, but it appeared that he was a bilingual attorney who knew his way around a ranch and wasn’t a stranger to mechanical know-how and hard work. That was nice, he supposed, but a lot of good it did him when he couldn’t seem to remember anything else.

  He shot a glance at the beautiful brunette who sat next to him. She’d admitted that they’d had a one-night stand. Had they actually been strangers? Did she know more about him than she’d shared?

  As they continued along the road to the hospital, an elephant the size of Texas sat between them. He did his best to ignore it, and she seemed to be doing the same thing. Then again, maybe she was so worried about her friend that she couldn’t be bothered with anything else.

  He turned on the radio, which had been preset to a country station that played classic hits. It didn’t take him very long to realize he knew most of the songs. He didn’t know what that meant in the scheme of things. But if he was from Texas, as Alana had said, it made sense.

  In spite of the music that filled the cab, Clay grew increasingly uneasy, and by the time they neared the hospital entrance, his clammy, cold hands clenched the steering wheel, his heart rate had spiked and he felt compelled to bolt.

  Bad things happened at hospitals. People died. Kids were left alone and confused... Scared. Heartbroken.

  Now, there was one flicker of a memory that he wasn’t eager to remember.

  Still, he pulled into the circular drop-off area and stopped to let Alana out in front of the lobby door.

  She reached for the handle, but before opening it, she turned to him and offered a faint yet appreciative smile. “Thanks for driving me.”

  “No problem. I’ll park the truck, then I’ll hang out in the lobby.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” she said. “I can catch a ride home. Somehow.”

  Clay wasn’t about to leave her here. What if something went wrong during the birth? That happened sometimes. He wasn’t entirely sure how he knew that. He just did.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Go on inside and find Callie. I’ll be sitting in the lobby waiting area if you need me.”

  Alana tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It could be a long time.”

  “I know.” It could take days. And it didn’t always end up well.

  But how did he know that?

  Another memory stirred in his mind like the start of a small dust storm. A dark one, it seemed. One he didn’t think he’d want to revisit.

  As she began to shut the passenger door, he stopped her. “I need a way to reach you. Give me your cell phone. You can borrow Callie’s or Ramon’s to send me a text and keep me updated.”

  She reached into her purse, pulled out her iPhone, an old version that had seen better days, and handed it to him. Then, after shutting the pickup door, she hurried to the entrance.

  Clay remained there for a moment, the engine idling, as the thought of a young boy walking out of a similar place, his heart pounding, palms sweating, burst onto the mental scene. Fear scurried up and down his spine until something—God only knew what—chased the recollection away.

  When another vehicle pulled up behind him, he removed his foot from the brake and went in search of a parking space. Once he found one, he headed toward the hospital entrance, his steps slow. Hesitant. Bothered by a memory that refused to rise up from the depths.

  He’d no more than stepped into the lobby when his sense of uneasiness grew into a realization that smacked him between the eyes. He hated hospitals. He wasn’t sure how he knew that for a fact, but he did.

  Had he felt the same way when Alana had brought him here last week? Or had he been too out of it to realize where he was—or to remember why he’d rather be anyplace than here?

  It didn’t matter. He sucked in a deep breath, then pushed through his fear and apprehension. He was here for Alana. And he’d stick it out for as long as it took.

  As it turned out, he’d had to wait only an hour when the first text came through. The caller ID indicated that Callie was sending the message, although it must be from Alana.

  So far, so good. The doctor ordered medication to stop labor. It seems to be working.

  Clay typed.


  Sending good thoughts.

  An hour later, another text came through.

  Callie is resting easy. Hungry?

  Clay hated hospital food—another oddball memory that seemed to be connected to the last.

  Yes. Here? Or can we go somewhere else?

  She replied.

  I think the Mulberry Café is still open. OK?

  Anything was better than here. So he agreed. Before he could slip the cell phone into his pocket, a new text chimed, from Fairborn Medical Center.

  You have an appointment with Dr. Patel at our office Wednesday at 9:00 AM.

  A checkup? he wondered. Probably. Not any of his business, he supposed. So he shrugged it off and waited for Alana to come downstairs.

  Moments later, she stepped out of the elevator with a tall dark-haired man who appeared to be in his late twenties.

  “Clay,” Alana said, “this is Ramon Cruz, Callie’s husband. Ramon, this is my friend, Clay.”

  The two men shook hands, their grips firm.

  “The contractions have stopped,” Alana said, “but the doctor wants to keep her overnight.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Another odd sensation settled over him like a cool, dark mist. Was it another memory? Or was it a premonition? Did he get those kinds of things?

  “I’m going to spend the night here,” Ramon said, “but since Callie just dozed off and should sleep for a while, I thought I’d join you guys.”

  Clay didn’t have a problem eating a meal with Ramon, but he wished he could reach for his wallet and whip out a hundred dollar bill or a credit card. He liked paying his own way. But unfortunately, ever since the accident—which seemed more likely to be a mugging and carjacking—he didn’t have any cash on him.

  As if sensing Clay’s dilemma, Ramon said, “Don’t either of you even think about paying for dinner. It’ll be my treat tonight. Besides, I owe you for throwing Callie’s baby shower.”

  “You don’t owe me a thing,” Alana said. “But I appreciate the offer. Besides, I don’t get into town very often. And I love the Mulberry Café, especially the sweet treats Callie used to bring home to me.”

  As they all turned toward the glass doors that led outside, Clay couldn’t help gazing at Alana, and not just her pretty face. He scanned the length of her and back. She was a shapely woman, even in those baggy clothes she seemed to favor.

  Not that it mattered to him. And it certainly didn’t take away from her appearance. Yet as she placed her hand on her belly, as she caressed it, he nearly stopped dead in his tracks.

  Was that a baby bump?

  If so, was it a result of their one-night stand?

  * * *

  Ramon’s late-model SUV beat the old ranch pickup to the café, but by only a couple of minutes. Alana suspected Ramon wanted to have a quick dinner so he could get back to the hospital, and she didn’t blame him. He clearly loved Callie and would want to be with her if she should wake up and need him. Ramon knew he hadn’t actually fathered the twins, but as far as he was concerned, those babies were his.

  As Alana and Clay neared the café entrance, they spotted a small, scruffy-haired black dog sitting on its haunches next to the oak-slatted, wrought iron bench to the left of the door. Someone had given it water in a disposable cup and a paper plate with what appeared to be a cheeseburger broken into pieces. At their approach, the little thing stopped munching and looked up at them, doe-eyed and apprehensive.

  It didn’t have a collar or tags, so Alana assumed it was a stray, although someone had clearly provided it with an evening meal.

  Clay stopped and reached down to give the mutt a scratch behind its floppy ears. “How’re you doin’, buddy? You look a little puny.” He straightened, turned his attention to Alana and gave a little shrug. “I guess you could say I’m an animal lover.”

  “Clearly.” She’d already reached that obvious conclusion. The ranch dogs had taken to him right away, and he was good with the horses, too.

  Clay glanced at the blue-and-white-striped awning that sheltered the eatery’s door and surveyed the entrance. “So this is the Mulberry Café?”

  “Yep. This is it. Callie went to work here right after she arrived in town. She quit when she and Ramon got married last month. It’s probably not the kind of restaurant you’re used to, but it’s a favorite of the Fairborn locals.”

  “I hope I didn’t come across as a snob,” he said.

  “You didn’t.” Back in that Colorado bar, he’d not only been well dressed but he’d been well mannered, too. And he’d left a generous tip for the cocktail waitress.

  “Is this where Callie met Ramon?” he asked.

  Alana nodded. “He’d gone through a divorce a few months earlier and had been eating most of his meals in various restaurants around town. But most of them were here at the café. The food is really good.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” Clay chuckled. “But I’ll bet Ramon enjoyed the service more than the menu.”

  A smile broke across her face, the first real one she’d had since Clay had arrived at the ranch. “You’re right.”

  Clay opened the door for her, and she walked inside. When he’d joined her, she pointed to the left of the cash register where a refrigerated case displayed a variety of desserts. “They look good, don’t they?”

  “They sure do.”

  “Gloria, the cook, has worked here for years. She’s a whiz in the kitchen, but she’s a darn good baker, too. Her pies are to die for. And so is her chocolate-mousse cake.”

  Clay nudged Alana’s arm, then pointed to the table where Ramon sat.

  Ramon waved them over. They’d no more than started across the café to join him when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the display, then took the call, which wasn’t a surprise. The busy town councilman was preparing for the upcoming election. He also coached a Little League team that had done so well it had gone on to compete in the county-wide All-Stars Tournament.

  He had a lot going on in his life these days, but he’d made it clear that nothing was more important to him than his new wife and family.

  As Clay pulled out a chair for Alana, Ramon got to his feet. “Go ahead and order. I need to take this call, but I’ll do it outside. I’ll be back in a few.”

  Alana took a window seat that provided her with a view of Elmwood Drive, which had very little traffic at this time of the evening. Then she reached for one of the menus sitting on the table.

  The café door creaked open as Ramon went out, and a small black blur made a mad dash inside and ran right up to Shannon McIntire, the college student who waited tables part-time, just as she was placing a plate in front of an older man seated by himself.

  A big grin spread across her face. “Hey, Blackie. You’re not supposed to come in here. You’re gonna get me into big-time trouble if Gloria sees you.”

  Shannon might wear the typical uniform of the other employees—a scoop-neck white T-shirt with a Mulberry Café logo on the chest—but with her short black hair, the ends tinted pink tonight, and a couple of eyebrow piercings, she stood out from the others. She was also Gloria’s niece.

  “Dammit!” Gloria rushed out of the kitchen. “What did I tell you about feeding that stray mutt, Shannon? You want the health department to shut us down?”

  “I’m sorry, Gloria.”

  “Sorry won’t cut it if we have to board up the windows and find another way to pay the rent. Take that dog outside and wash your hands. I’m going to call Animal Control.”

  Moments later, after returning from the ladies’ restroom, Shannon made her way to the table where Alana sat with Clay and pulled her pad and pencil from the front pocket of her apron. “Sorry about that.” She glanced first at Alana, then she gave Clay an appreciative once-over. “I’ve never seen you before. You new in town?”

  “Just visiting.”

/>   “Cool. Always nice to meet a friend of Alana’s.” She nodded toward the restaurant door. “That little black puppy is a real sweetheart. I’d take her home in a heartbeat, but I live with Gloria. And she’s allergic to pet dander. At least that’s what she says each time I ask to adopt a stray. But once I graduate and get a place of my own, I’ll get as many dogs and cats as I want.”

  Alana bit down on her bottom lip, then peered out the window at the poor dog.

  Clay chuckled. “Don’t tell me. It’s written across your face. I know what you’re thinking.”

  He was right. Alana turned to Shannon. “Tell Gloria not to waste her time on a phone call. I’m taking that dog back to the ranch with me.”

  “Awesome!”

  Before Shannon could hightail it back to the kitchen, Ramon returned to their table and handed her a couple of twenties. “I’m afraid I can’t stay, but I’m springing for Alana and Clay’s dinner tonight.”

  “Is something wrong?” Alana asked, ready to ditch her dinner plans if Callie needed her.

  “No,” Ramon said. “Micah just called to let me know he picked up a couple of carne asada burritos at Don Juan’s Cantina and is taking them back to the hospital, so I’m going to join him.”

  “Oh, my gosh!” Shannon slapped a hand to her chest, her fingers splayed, blue polish chipped. “Did Callie have her babies?”

  “Not yet,” Ramon said. “It was just a false alarm. She’s going to have to spend the night, but she can go home in the morning.”

  “Oh, that’s a relief.” She slowly lowered her hand. “I talked to Micah a couple of days ago, and he said she still had a month or two to go.”

  “Micah?” Clay asked, a splash of confusion crossing his brow.

  “Technically, he’s Callie’s son,” Ramon explained. “But as far as I’m concerned, Micah is ours. He’s in town for the summer and doing an internship at the hospital blood bank, so he’s been slipping in and out of the lab to check on his mom.”

  “He’s amazing,” Alana added. “I hope you get a chance to meet him. He’s only sixteen, but he’s going to graduate from Baylor University in December. Then he’s off to medical school.”

 

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