Cowboy on the Run

by Anne McAllister

  "Nailed you in the ribs, did he?" Rance asked, running his hands over the boy as he spoke. "That all?"

  Daniel nodded. "Wasn't his fault." His words came out in a wheezy little gasp. "One of those kids moved fast an' scared him."

  "Is he all right? Oh, Daniel! Where does it hurt?" Ellie reached them now and crouched beside them, brushing Daniel's hair away from his forehead.

  "'M all right," he tried to reassure her. He even managed a grin, but it ended in a gasp when Rance pressed lightly on his ribs.

  "Don't! You'll hurt him!" Ellie cried, trying to slap Rance's hand away.

  "I won't hurt him," Rance said. He slid his arms beneath Daniel and scooped him gently up. "Open the gate," he told Josh.

  Josh did, herding the little kids back as they began to crowd around. Then he and Caleb blocked them while Rance carried Daniel through the gate.

  "I can carry him," Ellie said, running alongside, and when Rance didn't hand him over, she directed, "Put him in the truck. I'll call the doctor. I have to take him to the doctor."

  Rance glanced pointedly at the small sea of children who'd been flowing after them from the corral to the track. "I don't think so."

  Ellie turned around, seemed to see the children for the first time, then pressed her hands to her cheeks. "Oh, Lord. What am I going to do?"

  "Feed them peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and ice cream and cake," Rance said calmly.

  "But Daniel—"

  "I'll take Daniel. Won't I, pal?"

  And Daniel at least looked up at him with trusting eyes. "Sure."

  Where were they?

  The party had ended. The kids had departed. The mess was cleaned up. The kitchen floor shone. Carrie had declared her birthday "super" beyond her wildest expectations because, "Even Rance was here, Mommy!"

  And now it was past seven o'clock and still they weren't home.

  "I didn't think Rance would come," Carrie confided as she lay in her brand-new dalmatian-covered bed and beamed at her mother who sat on the edge of the bed.

  "I didn't, either," Ellie admitted. It had been the biggest shock of the day when she'd looked up and seen him standing in her kitchen. Her heart had lurched at just the sight of him—as had the cookie sheet full of pizzas. It was probably just as well, in the long run, that it had happened, Ellie thought now. The kids had actually enjoyed their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches—and cleaning up the mess had covered up her confusion at seeing Rance again.

  It would never have done to have acted on her next impulse, which had been to throw her arms around him. That was what she'd wanted to do, heaven help her.

  Why had he come?

  "He brought me Lone Bear," Carrie said happily. She was hugging Rance's present in one arm while she hugged the newly dressed Clarissa in the other.

  The bear Rance had brought her was a near perfect masculine match for Clarissa—same size, same soft brown fur, same soulful brown eyes. The only difference was his two intact ears—and the chaps, bandanna and jaunty black felt cowboy hat.

  "He looks 'zackly like I knew he would," Carrie said, giving the bear a squeeze. "He is my best best present. An' Clarissa loves him."

  So did Carrie—that was all too clear. Something Ellie refused to put a name to squeezed at her heart, and she leaned down and gave Carrie a kiss. Carrie's arms, still full of bears, came up to wrap around her mother's neck and hugged her tightly.

  "This was my best best birthday, too," she said. Then as they pulled apart, she yawned, then smiled and said, "See? I tol' you parties were wonderful."

  Ellie would have begged to differ. But she knew better than to argue with a contented five-year-old. "I'm glad you had a good one," she whispered. Then after another kiss, she stood up. "'Night, lovey."

  "'Night," Carrie whispered back. She rolled on her side and snuggled both bears against her chest. She was asleep before Ellie got out the door.

  Josh wasn't quite so pleased. He was watching television when she came back downstairs, but he looked at her when she came into the room. "What's he doing here?"

  Ellie didn't ask who he meant, just as she didn't probe the surliness in his tone. She was wondering the same thing, but she didn't say so. "He came for Carrie's birthday," she said as if she'd expected Rance all along.

  Josh grunted. "When's he leaving?"

  Ellie wondered that, too.

  He hadn't come back for another night's stand, had he? He had to realize that that had been a one-off, a single, desperate, passionate night.

  She could not—would not—have an affair with him!

  And she would tell him that, too—if he ever came home!

  While Josh watched his television program, she paced the kitchen. She glanced at her watch. Surely they couldn't be at the doctor's all this time! She had called to tell them Rance was bringing Daniel and had hoped someone would call her back with news. But no one had.

  Usually the office closed at five-thirty. She rang up. Of course they were gone. The hospital! Had they put Daniel in the hospital? They couldn't have! Could they? She called the hospital. Daniel wasn't there.

  Where were they?

  And then, just before eight-thirty she saw a pair of headlights come around the bend in the road.

  She was out the door and running to meet the truck, standing where it would park before it came to a stop. "Where have you been?" Her voice was shrill, almost furious, as she yanked open the door. "Are you all right?" she demanded, reaching for Daniel.

  "'M fine," he murmured, blinking, and she realized she'd awakened both boys. "Jus' one broken rib," he told her sleepily.

  "One broken rib?" She looked at him, then at Rance who was looking at her, too. "Then where have you been all this time?"

  "We went to dinner," he said. His voice was low and flat and, as a result, made hers sound all that much louder.

  "Pizza," Caleb said cheerfully. "Pepperoni."

  "With a broken rib? You took him out for pizza when he had a broken rib?"

  Rance shrugged. "I thought it would be a better idea than bringing him back here where a hundred kindergartners could poke him and ask questions."

  There was some truth to that, of course. But still…! "You could have called!"

  Rance didn't answer that. He seemed curiously remote. Maybe dealing with injured children brought that out in him. Probably it did, Ellie decided. Or maybe her yelling at him was making him retreat into a shell. Good. Then maybe he would go away without propositioning her. Maybe she wouldn't have to tell him she wouldn't have an affair with him after all.

  The boys slid out of the truck. Daniel winced as he hit the ground. His arm was in a sling, bound against his chest.

  "Did they tape it?" she asked Rance.

  "No. He's just supposed to keep his arm as immobile as possible. It will hurt. There's not much they can do about it." He handed her a bottle that she guessed was pain medication. "No more tonight," he said.

  "Right." Ellie herded the boys toward the house. They were more awake now. Caleb was talking about video games. "Rance let us play 'em at the pizza place," he said. "We got eight quarters each. I won most."

  "Well, my arm hurt," Daniel said.

  "Yeah, but I beat Rance, too," Caleb said. "He wasn't payin' attention."

  He didn't seem to be paying attention now, either. He had wandered out into the living room where Josh was watching the end of his show.

  "Bedtime," Ellie said. She chivied them toward the stairs. "Say good night, guys."

  "'Night," Caleb said cheerfully. "Thanks for the pizza and games. It was fun."

  "'Night," Daniel said a little more quietly. "Thanks, Rance. I was glad you were there."

  Rance smiled at him. "I'm glad I was, too," he said equally gravely.

  Then Josh edged past him, and Rance said, "'Night, Josh."

  For a second Ellie thought Josh might not answer. But then he glanced back. "'Night," he said, and there was finality in his tone.

  The two of them exchanged a long l
ook. Ellie noted that it was Josh who looked away first, and continued up the stairs.

  Ellie started after them, then hesitated. "Carrie's already asleep," she said, "but she loved her bear. It was very kind of you." She gave him a smile. It was her best attempt at a polite smile—a smile that said, Please go now. I don't want to have to spell this out for you. "Excuse me. I need to get the kids to bed."

  Rance nodded, but he didn't move toward the door. He looked at her, his expression hooded. "I'll wait. We have to talk."

  Ellie didn't want to talk. She didn't want to have to admit she'd made a mistake in loving him. She didn't want to have to lie and say she wished he'd go away, when really she wished he'd stay forever. But forever wasn't an option.

  Forever had never been an option. She'd just been too young and stupid to realize it all those years ago.

  It's the price you pay, she told herself. She should have known there would be a price—for this loving just as much as there had been for their loving in the past. A different price, to be sure. But nothing she did ever came without cost.

  She took her time with the boys. Avoiding the inevitable, she knew. But she justified it by telling herself that she hadn't been with Daniel at the doctor, so she needed to be with him now. And she did need to hear everything the doctor had told him, though she would make sure to get it again from Rance before he left—and she would doubtless call the doctor herself in the morning.

  Daniel did not seem to have been traumatized by being sent to the doctor with Rance. "He said he knew how much it hurt," Daniel told her when she had him tucked into bed. He looked up at her with serious eyes. "He's had broken ribs before. An' a broken arm. He said his hurt so bad he almost cried. He said I was real brave, Mom."

  "You were, sweetie." Ellie tucked the blanket a little more snugly around him, then bent to kiss him goodnight. "Very brave indeed."

  "It was easier to be brave with Rance there," he said after a moment. "Even when the doctor was pokin' me, I stayed still. I didn't want him to think I was a crybaby." It wasn't the doctor he was talking about and Ellie knew it.

  She touched his hair lightly, then gave his hand an extra squeeze and got up, careful not to jiggle the bed. "If you need anything in the night, you just shout or send Caleb down," she told him.

  "'Kay." Daniel chewed his lower lip for just a moment. "I'm glad he was there."

  Ellie nodded. "I am, too." And that, at least, was the truth.

  "Me, too," Caleb chimed from the other bed.

  She smiled at them both. Then her gaze went to her oldest son. Josh was lying there, his head propped on one elbow, as he looked at her. He didn't say anything—just looked.

  Ellie tried a smile. He didn't respond. She wanted to say, Don't be like this. He'll be gone in the morning. But she didn't. This was adult business, no matter how adult, Josh, at ten, thought he was. She kissed his cheek. "'Night, Josh."

  "'Night." He looked away.

  Josh could hear his brothers whispering below, talking about beating Rance at some stupid video game and how maybe Daniel would do it next time because then his ribs wouldn't hurt so much.

  There won't be a next time, he wanted to shout at his brothers. Because right now—right this very minute—Mom was going downstairs to tell him to go away.

  Josh felt sort of squirmy, wiggly, guilty knowing that—and knowing the way he felt was part of the reason she was doing it. He'd seen her sometimes when she looked at Rance—and he knew she didn't dislike him.

  No. It wasn't just that she didn't dislike Rance. Josh knew she liked him. A lot.

  But he didn't like Rance. He didn't tike anybody who came nosing around, trying to take his dad's place. There wasn't anybody on earth who could take his dad's place!

  "So don't even think about it," he muttered now under his breath.

  "You awake, Josh?" Caleb said aloud. "You wanta come with us next time?"

  "No!"

  There was a moment's startled silence at the intensity of his reply. Then Daniel, ever the peacemaker, said, "It's okay. You don't have to."

  "More quarters for us," Caleb said cheerfully.

  "Caleb," Daniel chastised him.

  "Well, I was only sayin'—"

  "Shut up," Josh said fiercely. "Just shut up, both of you!"

  Rance was in the living room when she came back down the stairs. He stood by the fireplace, studying the family photos on the mantel. Good, Ellie thought. Take a good look. Realize my position, and you'll know I can't have an affair.

  She wiped her hands down the sides of her jeans, drying suddenly damp palms. At the sound of her footsteps, Rance turned around.

  "I really am very grateful you showed up today," she began briskly, trying to put them on a casual-friendship footing so she could get him out the door with the least acrimony possible.

  "It was very thoughtful of you to bring Carrie the bear. And I don't know what I would have done with all those kids after Daniel got hurt if you hadn't been here." She was babbling and she knew it, but the intent way he was looking at her made her feel the need to fill all the silence with every bit of sound she could manage.

  "I was … happy to do it." He sounded almost formal, too. Then he raked a hand through his hair. "We have to talk."

  Quickly, almost desperately, Ellie shook her head. "We have nothing to talk about." She picked up the afghan from the back of the chair and began folding it, not looking at him. "Once was it, Rance. We can't do it again."

  "It?" he echoed, confused. But then he must have realized what she meant, because he made a small harsh sound and said almost bitterly, "Once wasn't it, though, was it?"

  She pressed the folded afghan against her chest. "What do you mean?"

  His blue eyes challenged her. "We made love eleven years ago."

  "That was different. That was then." She put the afghan down and went into the kitchen, needing to get away from his gaze, even though she knew he would follow her.

  "Different how?"

  "We were young." She didn't look at him, focusing instead on filling the coffeemaker for morning. "Foolish. Irresponsible. We didn't have commitments. Now we do. At least I do." She did look at him then, so he could see how seriously she felt. "I can't play games now, Rance. I have kids."

  "Do I?"

  His question was so unexpected, for a moment she almost didn't hear it. And even when she finally processed the words, she didn't understand. Not at first. Then her fingers clenched on the coffee scoop, and she turned her head to see Rance standing there, feet slightly spread, fingers lightly curled, looking intently, straight at her.

  "Do you what?" she asked carefully, needing to be sure.

  Rance sucked in a slow breath. "Do I have a child?"

  Ellie strangled the coffee scoop. "Why on earth would you ask me a thing like that?" Her heart was pounding so hard and fast she thought he must be able to see and hear it from the other side of the room.

  "Because Josh isn't Joshua, is he?" Rance said quietly. "He's John. John Ransome."

  Ellie went absolutely still. Now she wasn't even breathing. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not after everything else.

  "And," Rance went on in the same quiet voice, "because the new nurse at Dr. Cummings's office thinks the twins look like you and Josh looks like me."

  "Spike—"

  "Doesn't look like me. The doctor asked if I was Spike's brother. When I said no, he said he didn't think so, that Spike didn't look at all like me."

  Ellie didn't say anything to that. What could she say? She just looked at him, and then down at the counter—at the coffeemaker, which had looked safe, when in fact, nothing and nowhere had been safe. She wished the world would open and swallow her up before he could ask what she knew he was going to ask her next.

  But the world didn't open, and the ground didn't swallow her. And into the silence she heard the words she'd feared hearing for the past ten years.

  "Is Josh my son?"

  She stared at the floor, then at Ra
nce's boots, at his knees, at his belt buckle. But she couldn't bring her eyes up further. "Yes," she said at last, in a voice so quiet that she knew he couldn't really hear her. She cleared her throat and lifted her eyes, meeting his stormy blue gaze. "Yes, Josh is your son."

  Rance didn't say a word. He just looked at her.

  And Ellie could do nothing but look back at him, trapped by the intensity of his gaze. A part of her wanted to run, wanted to hide, wanted at least to lower her eyes.

  But she didn't. She had nothing left to hide.

  Besides, since he had asked, she owed him honesty. And she owed herself—and Josh—the conviction that she'd made the best decision she could have made for all of them at the time.

  "Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was still quiet, but hollow, too. Hurt almost.

  Damn it! He had no right to be hurt. It wasn't as if he'd wanted a child!

  "You know why I didn't tell you! Think about it," Ellie said. "You didn't want to get married. You said it over and over again. Every time I brought up the notion of marriage or kids, you didn't want to hear."

  "You knew … then?" Now he sounded accusing. And angry!

  Angry? That made her mad, too. "Yes, I knew. Oh, not the first time I brought up the idea. I think I was just dreaming youthful girlish dreams then," she said with self-deprecating scorn. "And you handed me a dose of reality pretty darn fast. But yes, the last time I mentioned it—the time you said that kids were an albatross you wanted no part of—" she went straight on, ignoring his wince "—yes, then I knew."

  For a long time he didn't speak. Just stood there, his fingers curling into fists and uncurling again. A muscle twitched in his jaw. His eyes flashed fire and pain and a million other emotions that Ellie refused to acknowledge. He wasn't going to make her out to be the bad guy in this! She'd done the best she could. She'd done what she had to do.

  She kept her gaze steady on him, refusing even to blink, not permitting herself the smallest waver. This was harder by far than anything she'd thought she might have to tell him tonight. This was the hardest thing she would ever have to tell him.