Lost Highways (A Valentine Novel)

by Matlock, Curtiss Ann

  Neva rode up on her brown gelding. “You hold her back around the barrels.”

  “I don’t see any need to risk an injury in practice. All she needs is to go over the pattern, anyway,” she said, stroking Lulu’s neck. “She always seems to know when it’s practice and when it’s the real thing.”

  “That J.T. annoys the hell out of me,” her cousin said. “Sitting up there on his big paint and calling out instructions and criticisms like we’re all his private students. Like anyone asked him.”

  Rainey chuckled. For her part, she had barely heard the man. She had tuned him out. She could do that with anyone, having learned how when her brother Freddy got on his own high horse.

  Neva said, “He’s Shirley’s husband, and everyone puts up with him because of that. I can’t for the life of me understand what she sees in him. Shirley is a professor with tenure at the junior college, and she owns the ranch. J.T. really can’t do anything, but he likes to act like he knows and does everything. Shirley has to come around behind him and do the job over—basically what he does is give her double work and scare off her friends. Who needs that?”

  “Oh, who knows what any woman sees in a man?” Rainey said, her gaze finding her cousin’s current boyfriend sitting on the tailgate of his flashy red pickup truck.

  She herself had been wondering: What in the world does Neva see in that man? Buck was handsome enough to put your eyes out, she supposed. Or he probably was to some women, although he struck her as someone in need of a shave and a haircut, or at least body-building shampoo. And a bit of gumption, too, if that could be had at the barbershop.

  Her gaze slid as if drawn by a magnet to Harry, sitting right beside him.

  Neva said impishly, “I imagine there’s one thing J.T. can do, just like my Buck…and your Harry.”

  Rainey glanced over to see Neva gazing at the two men. It was plain to see that she thought Buck had hung the moon and stars.

  Returning her eyes to Buck, Rainey tried to see what Neva saw, but again her gaze shifted, and she noticed how the golden evening sun glinted on Harry’s thick brown hair.

  So far, since getting his hat, he would put it on and take it off five minutes later, as someone not used to wearing a hat often did.

  “He isn’t my Harry.”

  Harry had obviously liked Buck immediately, in the way that some men who seem totally opposite often gravitate to each other. Looking easy in his denim, sitting there beside Buck, he swung his booted feet slightly, a bottle of beer in one hand, and his other draped atop the puppy, who had displayed a tendency to nip at horses’ heels and therefore was confined to the truck.

  Rainey was one to let a horse teach the pup with a good swift kick, but others there did not feel so inclined. She had been close to tearing into a guy who had hauled off and kicked the pup with his very pointed boot. Harry had stepped in with a calming hand and taken the pup off to the truck with him.

  “He’s okay, Rainey,” he had said, feeling the pup’s side where the sharp boot had struck. The pup licked his hand nervously, as if fearful something else might be going to happen to him. “You’re okay, aren’t you, buddy?”

  “Are you sure? You don’t think he could have a broken rib…maybe one cracked?” She felt for herself, as Harry reassured her again, telling her that the man hadn’t kicked the puppy nearly as hard as a horse would have.

  “Well, a horse’s hoof isn’t pointed…and it knows how to hit. A horse will usually give a warning blow first, hard but not deadly. And besides, that’s one animal dealin’ with another,” she added indignantly. She was still half contemplating going over and giving the sharp-booted guy a swift kick of her own.

  Neva was saying, “You said you picked him up off the highway. I’d say that in some way he is your Harry.”

  “We are not lovers,” Rainey said. She wished she had not said anything about how she had come to meet him. It sounded a little foolish.

  “I didn’t say you were…and there’s a lot to being lovers that has nothin’ to do with anything goin’ on between the covers.”

  “I’ve been married twice. I’m tired of being disappointed by men.”

  “We women of the Valentine blood are a bold bunch, aren’t we?” Neva said with a chuckle.

  Rainey stared at her cousin, feeling sudden emotion at the term Valentine blood.

  “I picked Buck up, too,” Neva said in a way that made Rainey’s ears prick; she knew there was more to come, a confession of some sort.

  Neva gazed down at her saddle horn, and then she raised her eyes, speaking in a soft voice. “I know what I’m into with Buck. Daddy thinks I don’t, but I do. It’s just that what I’m lookin’ for isn’t the same as what Daddy thinks I should look for. I can earn myself a living, make my own decisions, take my own car to the mechanic—I don’t need a man for any of that.

  “I need a man to love me,” she said, simply and profoundly.

  “I know Buck doesn’t have an ounce of ambition—not like the world counts ambition, anyway. He isn’t much interested in money, as long as he has his truck and his bull-ridin’ riggin’. When he gets broke, he goes to work for a while, builds up a nest egg, then slacks off again. He doesn’t worry about tomorrow. I know it may sound silly, but that is what I admire about him. He puts the joys of living life today above money. He strives for joy, rather than money. He’s there for me, rather than for makin’ money.”

  Rainey saw with some surprise that Neva’s brown eyes were beautiful, passionate. She knew that this was what Buck saw in her plain cousin. It struck her that love truly did make a person bloom.

  “All day long I see people scramblin’ for the almighty dollar,” Neva said. “Some runnin’ right over their husbands or wives or mothers or fathers to get it. Always sayin’ to themselves, ‘Got to have money to live, there’s time for lovin’ and enjoyin’ later, after the money is made, the future all secure.’ Eugene kept sayin’ that to me. We’d get married after he made school principal and was secure. He was thirty-four, for heavensake, and talkin’ all the time about retirement. He wanted us to have our house all paid for the day we married.

  “You know why I think Daddy approved of Eugene? Because Eugene never was a threat to take my heart away, I’ll tell you that,” she said.

  Rainey thought that Neva might have hit upon a truth. She vaguely recalled meeting Eugene once, but she could not recall what he looked like; perhaps this fact was telling in itself.

  Neva said, “You know when I first saw Buck, what he did? It was in a Hardee’s over in Wichita, just before last Christmas, and a poor old deaf-mute man was going from table to table, giving out these little notes that asked for money and gave a blessing. I was with Eugene, and he turned up his nose and said the old man was a plague on society and needed to get a real job. I’m ashamed to say I was afraid of his criticism, if I gave the man money. But then, when Eugene had gone to the rest room, I saw Buck take out a ten-dollar bill—’bout all he had in his pocket, I imagine—and he put it right in the beggar’s hand. And there were tears in Buck’s eyes.”

  Rainey saw her cousin’s eyes glisten, and her own heartbeat ran faster, picturing the scene.

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  “Well, not anything, then. I watched him walk out to his truck, and I wanted to run after him, but I was too afraid of being a crazy fool. And runnin’ out on Eugene while he was in the bathroom did not seem like the thing to do.

  “But when we got out to his car, I told him that I could not marry him, and I told myself that there were a lot worse things than bein’ a fool—one of them is living with regrets. I promised myself that if I ever got a chance to meet a man like the one who had given the beggar money, I’d snatch him up.”

  “And you did get the chance,” Rainey said, caught up in the story.

  “Yes, at a club I went to with some girlfriends. It was four months later, and at first, when I saw him standin’ underneath a light, I thought I had to be imaginin’ things. I mean
, it was like I heard angels singin’ hosannah and God sayin’, ’Well, here’s your chance, Neva. What are you gonna do now?’ I snatched my courage and went over and asked him to dance. Then I told him about seeing him in the Hardee’s and that I thought I might be in love with him.”

  “You did?” Rainey said, amazed and awed.

  Her cousin nodded, saying earnestly, “I know it sounds like I’d lost my mind, but I was desperate. I wanted to have love in my lifetime. Real carrying-away-love, like they write songs about.”

  Rainey could not take her eyes off her cousin’s glowing face. Something inside her answered, Oh, I know…I know!

  “Buck came home with me, and we sat up all night talkin’…just talking,” she said with a chuckle, “and two days later he asked me to marry him.”

  “Two days? You got married after knowin’ him two days?” Rainey glanced down at her cousin’s hand. There was a ring on her left hand, one with a turquoise stone. Rainey had thought it a birthstone ring.

  “Well, no,” Neva said, lifting her hand and fingering the ring. “I got cold feet. It was one thing to be bold with him and another to risk my lifetime—I don’t believe in divorce, and frankly, I know Buck is sort of weak in that area. He doesn’t like unpleasantness or conflict at all and is apt to run off. You know how men can be.”

  “Yes,” Rainey said, averting her eyes downward.

  Neva said, “Right after Daddy was so rude to him—trying to drive him off—Buck did run off for a couple of days, sayin’ that he wasn’t the man for me. But he came back, and when he was still with me a month later and still askin’, I said yes, if he wanted children. He doesn’t really care about having kids, but he said it would be okay, if I did. He likes nothin’ better than pleasin’ me…or anyone, really.” She smiled tenderly, then jutted her chin. “But I won’t tell Daddy, because he told me not to bother comin’ around. He insulted Buck, and he insulted me, and it is up to him to apologize.”

  “Oh, Neva, I can see your point, but you and your daddy are just goin’ round in circles with that kind of thinkin’. He misses you, and he needs you. He is a mess, not eatin’ right and growin’ mold in his refrigerator. What if he dropped dead tomorrow, like Mama?” She thought Uncle Doyle might do that from food poisoning in his own kitchen.

  “There is so much that went with Mama,” she said, her voice cracking. “Things that should have been said but had been put off. And now it is too late.”

  Neva stared at her.

  “Don’t waste time with pride, Neva.”

  Then, at the moment that she was thinking, There; I got that out, congratulating herself for not missing the opportunity, so enthused at her accomplishment that she was trying to come up with more that would seal the healing between father and daughter, there came horrified shouts from the arena, the type of shouts that caused the blood to run cold.

  She and Neva about ripped their necks off turning.

  A horse had lost its footing rounding a barrel. For a horrified instant, it seemed the world held its breath as the horse desperately tried to find ground. Then the horse went over on its side, and the small rider shrieked.

  “Oh, Lord…that’s little Pammy,” Neva said and spurred her horse toward the arena.

  As she jumped off Lulu and dropped the reins to the ground, Rainey saw Harry sprinting for the fence. It seemed as if she blinked, and he was through the cable fence and running across the arena toward the girl with all his might. The girl’s horse, having scrambled to his feet, just about ran Harry down, but at the last minute, not breaking stride, Harry veered out of the way.

  He was pushing a man out of the way by the time Rainey and the others got to the girl.

  “I’m a doctor,” she heard him say and watched him go down on his knees beside the child.

  The little girl was crying, “My leg…my leg,” and beside her a wild-eyed woman was saying, “My baby! Oh, baby!”

  Harry took the girl’s hand, made her lie back and leaned over her, seeming to capture her eyes in a hypnotic manner. “We’re gonna take care of you, honey. I’m a doctor. It’s hurt, but it isn’t anything we can’t take care of.”

  She was about twelve and small for her age, Rainey saw. Tears streaked her face, but her eyes locked onto Harry’s, and her cries stopped.

  He jerked off his shirt and spread it over her and called for someone to get something more to cover her. Rainey ran and got her mother’s pillow and sweater, and thought to grab the last of the napkins in case they could be needed.

  Returning with her things, she pressed them on Harry and knelt beside him to help. She saw then the full extent of the child’s broken leg. A bloody stain was spreading on the girl’s pant leg. She looked at Harry’s face and could read nothing. Someone, probably J.T., called attention to the blood and said he had a knife for cutting away the pants, but Harry tersely said to leave it alone until they got to the hospital.

  He made all his examinations with one hand, never letting go of the child’s hand gripping him. This made his effort to remove her boot difficult, and Rainey, seeing his intent, did it for him and reported that the circulation in her toes was okay. Only then did he seem to realize it was she who was assisting.

  He said to the girl, “You’re gonna be the envy of all the kids at school, with a cast for everyone to sign,” making certain to speak to her as he and Rainey moved her injured leg to position a folded blanket between it and her good one, taking her mind off what was going on.

  “I need belts, strips of anything to tie her legs together.”

  Belts and girth straps and rope were instantly produced, as if coming out of the sky. Rainey had done this once before with a cousin, and she was able to work with him and his one available hand to secure the child’s legs together.

  A Bronco appeared, and Harry swiftly lifted the girl from the dirt and placed her in the back seat. He hopped out and assisted the hysterical mother in beside her daughter, and then rejoined the two at the girl’s feet.

  The Bronco started off, and Rainey stood there, holding the puppy by the lead, watching the figures through the dusty back window as the vehicle drove away as fast as possible over the clumps of grass.

  “He’s a doctor,” Neva said beside her.

  “Yes,” she said. Of all the things he could have been, she had not thought of this. She supposed she could understand more why he had been wanting to get away. She could imagine a doctor’s life must be very stressful.

  It looked like he wasn’t getting away far enough, though.

  CHAPTER 9

  Pennies In Our Pockets

  Rainey drove to the hospital in Buck’s truck. It had a true truck transmission and difficult clutch. She about ran into the back of a little Fiat when she stopped in the parking lot.

  Upon entering through the emergency doors, she was immediately set upon by the child’s mother, who pressed Harry’s shirt to Rainey and proceeded to thank her in an overwhelmingly sincere fashion for bringing Harry to the arena. The woman credited Harry’s very presence as the sole cause for her daughter not suffering any internal injuries. In fact, she seemed to credit Rainey for Harry’s very presence in the world and appeared possessed of the belief that Rainey had known he would be needed and had therefore brought him deliberately to save the day.

  Rainey thought the woman was either on drugs or needed some.

  “Perhaps you should speak to the doctors,” she said, trying to guide the woman to a chair in the hall and looking around for a nurse to help. She had a sense that the woman, having held herself together by a thread through her daughter’s emergency, was now giving way to her hysteria with gratefulness, in the way of someone who has perhaps been taking her child for granted.

  “Oh, I could have lost her,” the woman repeated a number of times. She only barely sat in the chair and then popped up, about to grab the man mopping the floor and thank him, too, except that she was taken in hand by a nurse and led away to sign forms.

  For a moment Rainey wonde
red about her mother’s pillow and sweater, and then she decided to give them up for lost—her mother would probably have been thrilled to know her old things had seen a crisis—and turned to find Harry.

  A nurse at the desk said that she had seen him disappear moments before into the men’s room. Clutching his shirt, Rainey went to stand beside the door. She wanted to give him his shirt immediately. No doubt he felt odd walking around a hospital half bare. He would be cold. He had hard, wiry muscles, not an ounce of fat to provide warmth.

  She stood there, smelling the hospital smell, which reminded her of her mother breathing her last in a hospital room, when she should have been breathing that last at home. She blinked to clear her teary vision and turned her thoughts to Harry.

  It was amazing to learn he was a doctor. And she was a little annoyed that he had not told her, although she could not honestly find a reason why he should have. Would she have been as astonished to learn he was an airline pilot, or an IRS agent? She saw now that in her mind, for some reason, he had absolutely been a stockbroker, which, in retrospect, made her very shortsighted.

  A sound reached her. Retching. From inside the men’s room.

  It seemed pretty silly, but she thought she recognized it as being Harry’s retching.

  She placed a tentative hand on the door and called through the crack, “Harry?”

  No answer, except a cough.

  She went inside and found him bent over a toilet. Immediately she soaked paper towels.

  “You are in a men’s bathroom,” he said, straightening.

  “I’ve been in one before.” She went to dab one of the wet towels over his face.

  “Why does that not surprise me?” Scowling, he snatched the towel from her hand and wiped his face.

  “I was only tryin’ to be of assistance,” she said, swallowing. The sense of needing to fall through the floor swept over her like a wave and made her angry.

  A man came through the door and stopped dead, staring at her in surprise, then checking the door plaque, as if to make certain he had the right to be there.