Along Came a Cowboy

by Christine Lynxwiler

  I push the gas pedal down, and the wind whips through my hair as I regain normal speed.

  Maybe losing Jack won’t matter so much if I can patch things up with Mama and Daddy and possibly Jenn.

  Yeah, right.

  I thought I was done lying to myself, but apparently not.

  When I walk into my house, the smell of baking greets me. I sniff. Chocolate chips. Cinnamon definitely. Maybe banana? In the kitchen, Tammy, in my Takeout Is for Wimps apron, is pulling a tray of cookies from the oven. She slides in a loaf pan with the other hand and turns back to a mixing bowl.

  “Where did you find all this sugar?”

  She smiles at me. “Hey, girl. I had Russ pick some up when he ran out to get pizza.” She comes over and enfolds me in a hug then nods toward a pizza box on the end of the bar. “We saved you a couple of pieces, by the way.”

  “Thanks. Where are Russ and Jenn?”

  “They went on to bed. It’s been a long day for everybody.”

  “I’ll say.” I sink onto a stool, snag a paper plate from the dispenser, and plop a slice onto it. Cold pizza doesn’t sound wonderful, but I’m too tired to heat it up.

  Tammy frowns and shakes her head, then snatches the plate from my hand and sticks it in the microwave for a few seconds. When she sets it back in front of me, the cheese is soft and inviting.

  “Thanks again,” I murmur then reach out and tug on the apron, stretched tight over her round tummy. “So this is the little guy, huh? Very cool.”

  She puts her hand to the bulge and smiles. “Yes, it is very cool.”

  “How did your doctor visit go this morning?” I take a bite of pizza. It’s so much easier to ask about things that have nothing to do with what happened in Shady Grove today.

  I can see that Tammy is on to me, but she answers the question. “Everything looks perfect. She gave me the clearance to travel.” She raises an eyebrow. “As long as I rest up a few days before I make the trip home. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Like there was ever any doubt. I’m thrilled to have you here. But Jenn seemed ready to get home.”

  “That’s the joy of being a teenager, sis. You can change your mind quicker than you change your clothes.”

  “She doesn’t mind staying?”

  “She wants us to see her barrel race, and she can’t wait for us to meet her cowboy. And your cowboy for that matter. She thinks Jack is awesome.”

  “In the first place, he isn’t my cowboy. Not after today. And in the second place, she can’t stand me, so why would she care?”

  Tammy scoots a stool over and sits down beside me. “One of the many wonders of Jenn is her ability to take things in stride. That’s one reason I was so stunned she ran away.”

  My dad’s earlier words rush back at me.

  “She’s absorbing this new information and processing it faster than I possibly could. By tomorrow I think she’ll be full of questions for you.”

  “What should I tell her about Brett?” That question has bothered me all night.

  Tammy shakes her head. “She asked me about him, and I told her a little. She said maybe someday when she’s older, she’d like to contact him. But no time soon.”

  “That’s a relief. Thanks for handling it. I’ll answer whatever questions she has. As long as she’s willing to talk to me, I’ll be happy.”

  “She loves you, Rachel. That’s never going to change.”

  I shake my head. “I always thought I’m the queen of thinking positively, but you and Daddy have got me beat with your overly optimistic views. She said she hated me, and I’m pretty sure she meant it.”

  Tammy frowns. “Daddy? Is that where you’ve been?”

  I get up and snag us both a couple of cookies and tell her about my visit to the ranch.

  “Mama wasn’t there?”

  I shake my head. “It’s her scrapbook club night. I forgot.”

  “We’ll have to call her when we get up in the morning and tell her Russ and I are here. Otherwise she might get her feelings hurt.”

  “I’ll let you call her. She won’t get mad at you.”

  “Ha. You’re living in a dream world,” Tammy says as we stand to clean off the counter.

  “Not me.” I shake my head and wipe the dishcloth across the shiny surface. I think of Jenn hating me. Of Jack leaving me. No dream world for me anymore. Just painful reality.

  Just as I open my eyes to greet the day, the doorbell rings. The dogs bound down the hall barking, and I grab a robe and chase after them. “You’re going to wake the whole house up,” I hiss, but they just bark louder.

  I squint at the kitchen clock on my way through. “Seven o’clock? Who comes to the door at seven o’clock on Saturday morning? It’s too early for visitors.” Especially since Tammy and I sat up and talked until the wee hours.

  I peek out the curtain and yank the door open. “Daddy? What’s wrong?”

  He ducks his head and runs his hand up the back of his neck. “We’ve got a problem.”

  I step back. “Come in and tell me.”

  He walks into the foyer and shifts from foot to foot.

  “You’re making me nervous. What’s wrong?”

  “Daddy!” Tammy comes around the corner, wrapped in a white terrycloth robe, and throws her arms around his neck. “It’s so good to see you!”

  He pulls her into a tight hug. “I see you brought my grandboy with you.”

  “We don’t know that it’s a boy.” She pushes back to look at him. “What are you doing here so early?”

  “You got any coffee?” he asks me.

  Tammy and I exchange a quizzical look, and I motion them to follow me into the kitchen.

  They sit at the bar while I fumble with the filters. “Quit stalling, Daddy.”

  “I was asleep in my chair when your mama got home from her meeting last night. So I just stumbled on to bed and never mentioned you coming out.” He runs his hand along the wooden trim on the edge of the bar. “But this morning, when she was fixing coffee, I told her about it.”

  “And?” My heart is doing flip-flops. Was he wrong? Was she happier not having me in their lives?

  “She’s madder than a wet hen.” “That you and me made up?”

  He frowns. “That she wasn’t there. That you didn’t come see her. I tried to tell her that you didn’t realize I was going to be there by myself, but she’s convinced that you blame her for what happened all those years ago, so you only wanted to reconcile with me.”

  “Did you tell her that’s not true?”

  “While I was trying to explain, I mentioned that Tammy and Russ are here. Oh boy.” He shakes his head. “She blew a gasket. Said neither of our girls care about her. That no one even knows she’s alive. She started crying.”

  “What did you do?” Tammy says softly, her eyes wide.

  “I told her not to be silly and to give me some coffee.” He flinches at the memory. “She dumped the coffee in the sink and poured the whole bag of ground coffee in the trash and on the floor so I couldn’t fix anymore.”

  A laugh pushes out of me involuntarily as I envision the scene. I put my hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not funny.”

  “What are we going to do?” Tammy asks.

  “First thing we’re going to do,” Daddy says decisively, “is have some coffee.”

  I jump up and pour us all cups. “Tammy and I will go out to the ranch and talk to Mama.” I look over at Daddy. “You stay here and keep Russ company. Talk to Jenn about the rodeo tonight and try to distract her from hating me.”

  “You want me to just sit here this morning?” He looks around my house in dismay. I think he’s only been inside it once or twice. To my dad, living in town is about as bad as it gets. “In the house?”

  “A limb fell on the back corner of my privacy fence last storm we had. I haven’t had time to get it off and fix the fence.”

  His eyes light up and he rubs his hands together. “I’ll rustle us up some breakfast; then
we’ll take care of that for you. You girls run along.”

  “We have to get showers first,” Tammy squeaks, looking down at her robe.

  “Oh yeah. Well hurry. I’ve never seen your mama in such a state.”

  Ever obedient, less than an hour later, we’re pulling into our parents’ driveway. I look over at Tammy. “We’re not going to mention seeing Daddy, right?”

  “Right.”

  We ring the doorbell and wait. And wait. Finally, Tammy twists the knob. “Hello the house.”

  “Hello the house?” I make a face at her.

  “That’s what they say in movies.” She whispers.

  “What movies do you watch?”

  “Never mind. Mama!”

  No answer. We split up and go through the whole house then meet back in the kitchen. My nerves are taut.

  Tammy holds her hands like Vanna White revealing a vowel. “She’s not here.”

  “Nothing like stating the obvious,” I snap. “I’m sorry.” Looking at the coffee grounds splashed everywhere, the scene doesn’t seem as funny as it did when Daddy was telling it. “I’m just worried.”

  “I know.” She motions toward the door that leads from the kitchen outside. “Do you think she’s out at the barn?”

  “Maybe. I would be.” I hurry to the door, and we practically run down the path to the barn. Halfway down I remember that Tammy is pregnant. I screech to a stop. “You don’t need to be running.”

  “I’m not running. Walking is good for me. Come on.” She grabs my shirt and tugs me toward the barn.

  I look at Tammy. “Are you going to ‘hello’ the barn?”

  She hits me on the shoulder. “Mama?” she calls.

  I glance over at the stalls. “Lady’s gone.”

  “Mama’s horse.”

  I nod. “We should be thankful she’s not on a bull, I guess. The women in our family are a little unpredictable.”

  “I noticed.” Tammy looks over at me. “You’ll have to go after her. I can walk, but I can’t ride a horse. Not when I’m not used to it.”

  I hurry to the tack room to grab Sweetie’s saddle when I hear voices outside in the barn.

  “Everything happened so suddenly,” Tammy is saying.

  Mama brushes past me with her saddle in her hand. She tosses it in the tack room with barely a backward glance.

  Whoa. I’m guessing her ride didn’t work off the anger.

  “I didn’t expect your sister to tell me”—she shoots me a glare—“but nowhere during that eight-hour drive did you have time to call your mother and say, ‘We’re coming home for a visit’?”

  Tammy steps toward her. “I was just so busy thinking and praying about Jenn.”

  Mama’s face softens. “How is Jenn?”

  “She’s doing better,” Tammy says. “It was a shock, but she’ll be okay.”

  “That’s good.”

  Tammy touches Mama on the shoulder. “I’m really sorry for not calling you.”

  Mama stares at her for a minute; then her eyes fall to Tammy’s abdomen, and her eyes grow moist. “That’s okay. How are you?”

  “The doctor says everything is fine.” She throws her arms around Mama’s neck just like she did Daddy’s earlier. And is pulled into a warm embrace.

  I’m still standing in the tack room door like Ebenezer Scrooge watching a happy family celebration through the Cratchits’ window. Except that he was with the Ghost of Christmas Present and I’m with the Ghost of Christmas Past, I think inanely.

  When Tammy and Mama finally break apart, I step forward. Are those chains I hear rattling? “Mama, I’m sorry.”

  She spins around and looks at me as if she’s already forgotten I’m here, and my heart physically hurts.

  “Rachel.”

  Tammy gives me a “Hang in there” look and says, “I’m going to go up to the house and. . .” Her eyes narrow as she obviously tries to think of an excuse to leave us. “And. . .let y’all talk.”

  Before either of us can protest, she spins around and rushes out the barn door.

  Mama and I look at each other, and she grabs a brush and heads outside. I snag the other brush and a curry comb and follow her out to where Lady is tied.

  I walk to the opposite side of the Palomino mare and start brushing her. “She’s really lathered up. I guess you rode hard.”

  “Humph.” She keeps brushing in long, even strokes.

  “I thought you’d both be home last night. I came to see you both.”

  She gives me the look she used to give me when I’d taken a cookie without asking. “You didn’t know it was my scrappin’ night?”

  “I forgot.”

  “And it would have killed you to stay a few minutes later and wait for me?”

  “No. I. . .” I rest my forehead against a dry spot on Lady’s shoulder. “I should have.”

  “Humph.” Brush, brush, brush.

  I take a couple of steps around the front of the horse, brushing around her face so I can see Mama. “I’m here now.”

  She scoots toward Lady’s flank, refusing to look at me. “We both know why you waited until I was gone. You’ve blamed me all these years.”

  “Blamed you? If anything I blamed Daddy. He’s the one who made me pack my stuff and carted me off to Georgia without even letting me tell you bye.”

  “You know what I mean. Blamed me for you getting pregnant to begin with. And we both know it was my fault.”

  I frown and let the brush fall down by my side. “What in the world are you talking about? How could it be your fault?”

  “I was gone off to take care of Tammy.” She glances up toward the house. “She was a grown woman, I know, but losing that baby almost killed her.”

  “You can’t watch a kid every second, Mama. I was responsible for my own actions that night.”

  She shakes her head, and I get a brief glimpse of her eyes, filled with tears. “You were always responsible. Almost too responsible. Tammy needed me. But you never seemed to. So I didn’t think about you getting into trouble. When I think about you having to go through that. . .”

  “I didn’t have to go through it.” Has she thought all these years that Brett forced me? “I made a terrible choice, but it was my choice.”

  She draws in a breath through her nose and looks toward the sky. “I’m not talking about that night. I mean after. You kept that secret all by yourself then went off and never came back. And you just a baby yourself. I knew I was to blame, but there was no way of undoing it.”

  I reach over and take the brush from her hand. “Let’s sit for a minute and talk.”

  “No.” Her breath is coming in gasping sobs. “I don’t want your pity.”

  “My pity?” How could two grown women be on such totally different wavelengths? “Come sit down.” I check to be sure Lady is secure then pull Mama over to the wooden swing right outside the barn.

  She sits but still won’t look at me. “I’m not sure this is ever going to work—you and me.”

  Defeat seeps into my heart. If my own mother can say that, maybe she’s right.

  “Too much water under the bridge,” she mutters.

  Bridge. The word slaps me in the face. “That’s not acceptable.”

  “What?” She looks at me. Finally. Even though she’s looking at me as if I’m crazy.

  “That’s not acceptable. For it not to work out for you and me.”

  She chuckles, sort of a sick frog chuckle, but a chuckle nonetheless. “Not acceptable?”

  “You’re my mother. We’re family. And I love you. Do you love me?”

  Her eyes fill with deep horror. “How can you ask me that? I love you more than life itself.”

  I think of yesterday when I used those same words to Jenn. And how much I meant them. “You do?” My voice squeaks.

  “Of course I do.”

  Wow. I never knew.

  “Let’s take this in small steps, Mama. We can make this bridge strong.”

  “What bridge
?”

  I reach over and take her hand. She lets me.

  “Never mind. Just trust me. We love each other, so we’ve got a foundation. The rest of it we can build as we go along.”

  “Okay.”

  “We’ve had so many misunderstandings. Maybe if we just ask each other a question now and then. . .” I just don’t know how much more drama I can take all at once.

  “Did you set out to just sleep with a boy because you were mad at me for being gone on your birthday?”

  Okay, that’s a question. Not the one I was expecting, but a question. She starts to pull her hand from mine.

  I hold on. “No! I had a huge crush on Brett all summer. All the girls did. Whenever he walked by, they’d bump against each other and giggle to get his attention, but I just stood by the gate or made a point to go up to the concession stand when he was up there getting something. One night I even bought a soda and got up the nerve to offer it to him. He tossed me the bandanna he had in his hand and took the drink but didn’t even glance at me.”

  “That’s that old blue handkerchief in your box of trophies?”

  I nod. “But he never really noticed me at all until that night of my birthday. Then he turned his blinding smile on me, and I finally had him all to myself. The next thing I knew, I was in the dressing room of his horse trailer. And by the time I realized it wasn’t what I wanted, it was too late.”

  She covers her face and starts to cry again.

  I put my arm around her. “I’m sorry, Mama. I’m sorry I did it. And I’m sorry we lost all these years.”

  She nods. “I should have been here.”

  “Even if you had been, it probably still would have happened.”

  “I’m thankful for Jenn—don’t get me wrong. But in all the years since, it’s ended up feeling like we traded our baby girl for a granddaughter.”

  “You didn’t, Mama.” I reach over and hug her lightly then stand. “Let’s get poor Lady finished and go up to the house. Our family has a rodeo to go to tonight.”

  “Are you riding?”

  “No, I didn’t register.” I might still could, but after all these years, I think I’m chicken. “It’ll be up to Jenn to uphold our barrel-racing reputation tonight.”