Along Came a Cowboy

by Christine Lynxwiler

  I bump into Norma outside the adjusting room. “Company in your office,” Norma says and gives me an odd look. “Blah, blah, blah.”

  My heart thuds in my ears, and I struggle to take slow deep breaths. It has to be Jack. He’s been as miserable as I am, and he wants to go back to being friends. Or he wants to talk about the somewhat caustic message I left on his voice mail Saturday night concerning Dirk. I probably should have slept on that impulse instead of calling as soon as we got home.

  Either way, he’s here.

  Norma puts a hand on my arm. “Dr. Donovan? Did you hear me? I said is there anything I need to do before I leave for the day?”

  Oh. That was the “blah, blah, blah.” I really need to get a grip.

  “No. Thanks, Norma. I have a few things to do here; then I’ll lock up.”

  As soon as she’s gone, I make a mad dash for my private bathroom, where I run a brush through my hair and apply a hasty coat of lip gloss. Not great, but I don’t have time to do more. I rush to my office.

  “Allie.” Dreams of Jack crumble in a heap of dust. “Victoria. What are you doing here?”

  “Nice to see you, too,” Victoria says. “We have a problem.”

  She nods to Allie who picks up the story. “This morning was Lark’s first trip to the doctor with Sheila. She was supposed to come to work after, but she never showed up. It wouldn’t be such a big deal, but three of my crew had to go to Jonesboro to pick up some special seedlings, and I needed her to help me in the office. So I called her.”

  “Only Craig answered,” Vic says in the same tone she’d say, “The sky is falling.”

  “And?” I’m still back at the beginning, trying to get over the disappointment that they’re not Jack. I’m having a hard time following what they’re saying. Didn’t I just have this same zoning out experience with Norma? I force myself to focus on Allie.

  “And. . .Craig works during the day, remember? He never takes off unless there’s an emergency.” If someone was standing outside the room, he would swear that Allie was talking to a child. She was trying so hard to be patient. “When I asked to speak to Lark, he said she didn’t want to talk to anyone.”

  “Maybe Sheila is being Sheila again.”

  She shakes her head. “If it was just ‘Sheila being Sheila,’ Craig wouldn’t be home from work in the middle of the day. Plus, he sounded terrible—I can tell he’s worried sick about Lark. Something’s happened.”

  “So”—I’m finally getting the picture. When did I get so self-absorbed that I would ignore a crisis involving one of my dearest friends?—“what are we going to do?”

  Victoria snatches her cell phone out of her pocket and pushes a button. “Craig, hi. Is it okay if we come over and talk to Lark for a few minutes?”

  “We’ll be right there.” She snaps her phone shut. “He says, please come.”

  Craig looks grim and worn out when he opens the door. He motions toward Sheila’s room. “She’s been cleaning that room ever since Sheila left.”

  Sheila left? Uh-oh. Poor Lark.

  “She even wanted to burn the sheets, but I finally talked her out of that.”

  When we get to the doorway, Lark has her back to us, shoving the vacuum cleaner back and forth, her dark curls bouncing.

  Vic walks in and taps her on the shoulder.

  She whirls around like she’s going to do a martial arts move then turns the machine off and releases the handle.

  Her eyes are swollen and wild, but dry.

  For a second, no one speaks.

  “Did y’all come over to tell me how stupid I am? I knew you thought I was crazy for letting a total stranger move in. And you were right. Go ahead and say ‘I told you so.’ I’m the most gullible idiot on the planet.” Lark hides her face in her hands, her anguish as tangible as a fifth presence in the small room.

  “Lark, let’s go sit down, and you can tell us what’s going on.” Vic gently takes her by the shoulders and steers her toward the kitchen.

  Allie pulls a glass out of the cabinet, pours a glass of tea, and hands it to Lark, who takes a sip and draws a shaky breath.

  “You know Sheila said she had a doctor’s appointment this morning. I told her I wanted to go.” She looks at Allie. “Even though I could tell she wasn’t crazy about the idea, I figured if she saw I took off work for it, she’d have to let me go with her.”

  “Makes sense,” Vic says.

  “I wanted to see the ultrasound.” Lark’s voice trembles. “But she threw a fit when I pressed the issue.” Tears fill her eyes. “Anyway, I insisted, and she got mad and started yelling. Then I got mad and told her that I had a stake in this, too. And if I couldn’t see the ultrasound, she was going to have to move out.”

  She looks at the ceiling. “All those weeks of waiting on her hand and foot. Putting up with her tantrums and whims. I think it just pushed me over the edge.”

  “It’s okay, honey.” I touch her arm, and she looks at me. “More than likely she wouldn’t have given you the baby anyway when it was time.”

  “That’s just it.” She shakes her head. “There never was a baby.”

  We all three draw in a collective horrified breath. I had doubted Sheila’s sincerity in giving up her baby, but it never occurred to me to doubt the actual existence of a baby. Now Sheila’s behavior at the Fourth of July flag football game makes perfect sense.

  “It turns out she knew all along she wasn’t pregnant. She never went to any doctors. It was all a lie that started as a way to force her boyfriend to marry her. If he didn’t, she’d give up the ‘baby’ to a willing couple.” She flinches. “Us. What an idiot I am.”

  “You’re not an idiot. We all believed she was pregnant,” Allie says quietly.

  “But you didn’t all take her into your homes and treat her like a princess. No wonder she didn’t want to leave even after she knew she couldn’t get her boyfriend back. She had it made.”

  I shake my head. “Not really. Because she was living a lie. And that’s no life at all.”

  Wham. Just like in the car with Jenn the other night. Another ton of bricks from my own words of wisdom falling right on top of my own head. Not exactly where I’d aimed them.

  Lark is too lost in her distress to notice the sudden silence, but I can see that Allie and Victoria have raised their lovely eyebrows and are staring at me, having connected all the dots. I shrug. “Take it from me.”

  As we walk out of Lark’s house, Vic looks over at Allie and me. “I hope they’ll be able to get some sleep tonight. I feel so helpless. I can’t even imagine the pain and disappointment they must be feeling.”

  Allie pulls her cell phone out of her purse. “No, but God can. And we’re not helpless—we need to keep praying for His comfort to heal their heartache. And someday, in His own time, give them a baby.”

  I nod, too shaken by my own revelations to say much. Allie puts her arm in mine. “It looked like you made a decision in there. Am I wrong?”

  Tears well in my eyes at the sympathy in her voice. “You’re not wrong. I have some things to take care of.”

  “We’ll be praying for you, too, Rach,” Vic says. “Is there anything else we can do?”

  I shake my head.

  She gives me a quick hug. “We’ve been kind of distracted by this worry with Lark.” She looks over at Allie. “And by honeymoons.”

  “Yeah, but we’re still praying for your happy ending, Rach,” Allie says. “And believing it’s going to happen.”

  “Thanks. I may drive a little slow on my way to pick up Jenn. I’ve got a phone call to make.”

  “Take your time. I’m calling the Pizza Den right now to order for the kids and Daniel. And I told Craig I’d put in an order for them, too.”

  After we say good night, I drive toward Allie’s. On the way, I pull into my office driveway and park. I don’t want to be driving during this call.

  Tammy answers on the first ring. “Hey, Rach. How weird that you would call. Russ and I had th
e craziest idea.”

  I gulp, suddenly nervous. “Really? Me, too.”

  “You had a crazy idea, too?”

  “Yes, but go ahead and tell me yours.”

  She laughs. “No, you go first.”

  I take a deep breath. I’d better, because I might chicken out otherwise. “I need to tell Jenn the truth.”

  The silence on the other end reminds me of those commercials about dropped calls. “Tammy, are you there?”

  “Yes. I’m here. I’m just processing.”

  “So how do you feel about it, now that I really want to do it?” “I think it will be a big burden off all of us, Rach. As anxious as she’s been to know the truth, I’ve hated not telling her.” She pauses. “But, Russ and I respect our original agreement and your privacy. We both understand that it’s your decision, not ours, whether or not to tell her.”

  “I know. Y’all have been great about that.”

  “What made you decide you wanted to tell her?”

  “So many things.” I relax back against the car seat and stare at my small frame office building. It may not be the natural health clinic of my dreams, but it’s not half bad. God has blessed me so much. Why do I have such a hard time trusting Him with my past?

  “On some level, I’ve wanted to tell her since she showed up here that first night. I told myself that it was for her own protection that I didn’t.” Now it’s my turn to pause. Some things are hard to admit. “But lately, more and more I’ve realized that it’s shame. And pride. And those aren’t good reasons for keeping a secret.”

  “Wow. I’m impressed by your wisdom, little sister.”

  “Oh yes, that’s me, the wisest of them all. Not. I said something tonight that slapped me in the face with my own foolishness.” I tell her briefly about Lark and Sheila. “I’d like to tell Jack, too, after Jenn knows. Even though I’m terrified of what he’ll think.”

  “If he’s half the man I think he is, he’ll think he’s incredibly blessed to have someone like you.”

  I laugh. “Okay, shut up before you make me cry. I’ve been doing that enough lately.” I take a deep breath. “So I know y’all are coming in a couple of weeks to get Jenn. I guess you still want me to wait until you get here to tell her?”

  “Actually, that’s part of our crazy idea. You feel like having company this weekend? I went to the doctor this morning, and he gave me clearance to travel.”

  “You’re kidding! Y’all could come this weekend?” I’d resigned myself to wait two weeks. The thought of just a couple more days. . .

  “If I still feel okay in the morning, we’ll leave then. Don’t mention it to Jenn, though, just in case I decide I can’t. I think this will be a good surprise.”

  “Me, too.” And good surprises are something we could use a lot more of.

  Since Fridays are half days, I’ve got plenty of time to do some cooking and cleaning before Tammy gets here. Perfect planning, I congratulate myself as I pull up in front of my house and park. Allie’s mom keeps the kids on Fridays, and Jenn usually sleeps in. She’ll be well rested and ready to help me. If I can figure out a way to motivate her without giving away the surprise.

  I bound up the steps, unbelievably lightened by the fact that I’m about to dump this burden of secrecy. Even if Tammy thinks we should wait until after the rodeo to tell her, one way or the other, I’ll be out in the open with everything by the time the weekend is over. I prayed most of the night, read Proverbs this morning, and today I’m ready. Let the chips fall where they may. And please let them fall without hurting Jenn too much.

  I push open the door and stop.

  Jenn stands in front of the full-length mirror, braiding her hair in two braids. She’s beautiful in the turquoise and rhinestone shirt and matching boots I wore when I was her age.

  “Grandmom found it in her cedar chest and dropped it by awhile ago. I hope it’s okay for me to wear it,” she says to my reflection, her green eyes wide.

  I swallow against the lump in my throat. “Definitely. But I should have bought you something new.”

  She grins. “This is a perfect fit. Besides, it’s vintage. How much better can it be?”

  “Vintage?” I say with mock dismay. “Knock-knock.”

  Still looking in the mirror, I see Jack behind us, his expression guarded. He holds up a turquoise cowboy hat. “Mrs. Donovan sent this.”

  Armed with the knowledge that I’ll be able to tell him the truth soon, I toss him a playful smile in the mirror. “Jenn’s saying I’m vintage. I think that’s just another way of saying I’m old. What do you think?”

  He shakes his head and stares at us both, his mouth slightly open. “I think she looks enough like you to be your daughter.”

  His words strangle the air from my lungs. My mind races, frantic to erase them, to cover them somehow.

  The buzzing in my ears blares as Jenn’s gaze meets mine in the mirror.

  I stare back, as if I’m encased in concrete, unable to break free.

  Her eyes flare as she realizes the truth. “No way,” she whimpers.

  “Jenn. You weren’t supposed to—”

  She spins to face me. “How. . .how could you?”

  I try to pull in a breath. I’ve had this nightmare so many times. Is it really happening? “I didn’t—I was going to—”

  She puts her hands to her ears. “I hate you!” she yells and runs toward her room. The door slams.

  I’m still frozen, my ragged breath the only sound. No. This can’t be the end. I have to make her understand.

  “Rachel.” Jack’s hand touches my shoulder.

  I jerk away and stumble down the hall to Jenn’s room and slam my fist against the door. “Jenn! We have to talk.” There has to be a way to fix this. With my ear to the door, I try again. “Honey, let me in.”

  I hear movement; then suddenly music blares. I jerk away from the pulsating rock music vibrating through my brain. She hates that music. She just wants to drown me out any way possible. I jiggle the doorknob, but it doesn’t budge. “Please,” I whisper, knowing she can’t hear me. I stay there as the radio DJ announces the nonsensical title to the next song and the next. Every time there’s a tiny pause in the broadcasting, I knock, but she ignores me.

  Finally I give up and walk back to the living room.

  Jack’s standing where I left him, looking at the family pictures on my wall. He turns to me, his brow furrowed. “What’s going on?” he yells over the music.

  “Going on?” I croak. “Surely you’ve figured it out by now.” I shake my head. “All this time, she’s been trying to get me to help her find her birth mother, and I—”

  “Birth mother?” he repeats dumbly. “She’s adopted? But she looks. . .”

  The realization dawns on him more slowly than it did Jennifer, but I see his eyes widen as the truth hits him. I turn away, unable to bear any more disgust and disappointment in the eyes of someone I love.

  I’m not who he thought I was.

  I’m not who Jenn thought I was.

  All these years of being a big fraud has finally caught up with me. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

  He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “I thought you were my business.” I may not be looking at him, but the disgust is evident in his voice. “If I remember right, I told you all about my past on our first date. And I believed you were finally beginning to trust me. I must seem like a real idiot to you.”

  My chest tightens. “I’m sorry I hurt you. But look at it this way: You’ve paid me back. My relationship with Jenn will never be the same.”

  I can feel his breath hot on my neck, and when he speaks, he doesn’t yell, in spite of the music. “Relationship?”

  He doesn’t say anything else, and for a few seconds I think he’s gone.

  Then, “Relationships are built on truth and trust.”

  I flinch.

  “No wonder you couldn’t say you loved me.”

  He’s right. I was never th
e pure innocent girl he must have imagined I was. Not even back then. Not after that night. “Just leave me alone, Jack. You’re better off, anyway.”

  Apparently he agrees, because the front door slams.

  I turn and sink into my glider. The rock music pounds in my head, and I try to let it wipe out conscious thought. But I can’t. I remember how I felt when, without discussing it with me, my parents decided to send me off to live with Tammy and Russ. And I’d done something horrible. How much more must Jenn feel betrayed by me? As the sunlight outside dims, I blink my swollen eyes, push to my feet, and walk down the hall. I bang on her door again. “Turn the music off so you can hear me,” I shout.

  Sudden fear clutches me. Would she do something crazy? I have to know she’s okay. I sprint to the bathroom and grab a hair pin from the drawer. “Sorry, babe, I’m coming in.” I stick the pin in, and the knob twists easily under my hand.

  The music booms even louder, but the room is empty. I run over to the window where the curtains are flapping. For a second, I can’t take it in. She’s gone. Gone.

  My legs turn to lead again as I realize whom she would have called. Is history repeating itself in spite of my efforts to the contrary? “Lord, please protect her. Help me find her quickly.”

  In the living room, I fumble in my purse until I find my cell phone and punch in Jack’s number.

  “Jenn’s gone.”

  “What?”

  “I finally unlocked her door and she’s gone. Are you home?”

  “No. I’ve just been driving around.” His voice is husky. “Thinking. I’ll come right over.”

  “No.” I grab my keys from the hook. “I won’t be here. I have to do something now. Do you have Dirk’s phone number? I’m sure she’s with him.”

  “We can only hope.”

  “Hope?” I snarl into the phone. Argh.

  “I’ll call him. Call you right back.”

  In seconds my phone rings. “He’s not answering.”