Lone Star Refuge

by Mae Nunn

  He held the door open for both of them to go through, and then said, “I’ll just bring in our bags.”

  While Cha Cha and Stella were settling into the living room, Cha Cha whispered, “He is gorgeous.”

  “I know,” Stella said. “I know!” Joiner was dressed in his usual casual cowboy style, exuding effortless sexiness. She was so glad Cha Cha could finally see for herself all of the things she’d been telling her about Joiner.

  “Why don’t you just put those here for now?” Cha Cha said to Joiner when he brought in their bags. “We can take them up later. I’m going to put you in the two guest bedrooms upstairs.”

  He set them out of the way beside the foyer and came into the living area to join them. He sat beside Stella on Cha Cha’s couch.

  “So I know you must be tired from work and driving. Are you hungry?”

  “We stopped on the way in and got something to eat.”

  “Tell me your plans for the morning.”

  “Well,” began Stella, “We’re not in a big hurry. I thought we’d have a slow morning, maybe leave about nine, and then drive out and spend the day at War Eagle. We’ll be back here at suppertime and I thought we could pick up whatever you’d like for us all to eat on the way.”

  “I am so mad I can’t go with you! It’s the first War Eagle I’ve missed in twenty years.”

  “I hate it, too. But you will be there next year. And maybe Joiner will like it so much he’ll want to come with us again.”

  Joiner grinned. “I have the feeling this will be a one-time gig for me, but I am happy to stand in for you on this one occasion, Cheryl.”

  “You can call me Cha Cha. Are you not the arts-and-crafts type, Joiner?”

  “I made a bracelet once for my adopted mom. That’s about it.”

  Cha Cha laughed. “Steve wouldn’t step foot at War Eagle.”

  “Where is Uncle Steve?”

  “He’s gone to a meeting, and then I had a grocery list a mile long for him.”

  “He sounds like a pretty good minion,” Joiner observed.

  “He is. He has been amazing to me during this time of illness. You just never know when you might be called on to live out those vows, in sickness and in health.”

  “Well, you’d do the same for him.”

  “Yep. I would.”

  Cha Cha asked Joiner questions about his growing-up years, college, polo and his brothers, which led to the inevitable discussion of Hunt’s TV personality as the cowboy chef.

  “I bet it’s nice to have his cooking in the family.”

  “It is. I’ll freely admit it, especially since I can’t cook a lick.”

  “All of his brothers are cool. I’ve met them,” Stella said. She would tell Cha Cha later about how they’d worked together to stage Joiner’s intervention.

  “Why don’t you let me get up in the morning and make omelets? Joiner can help me.” Omelets were their War Eagle morning tradition. “Is Uncle Steve getting the stuff?”

  “He is. And I’ll help make them if I feel like it. I’m not a total invalid.” Cha Cha grinned.

  “Okay. It’s a deal.”

  That night Stella took what had always been her bedroom at Cha Cha’s, the one at the front of the house. Joiner’s was the one next to it, and there was a bathroom down the hall. All of the rooms, including the bathroom, were full of old-house charm—odd angles, fun little nooks. And as Cha Cha was, well, Cha Cha, they were all decorated to the hilt.

  It felt a little strange to be so close to Joiner in this way. They brushed their teeth together, and she noticed they both dressed in sweats and T-shirts for bed. Then he walked her to her door, but didn’t step through, even though there was a sitting area and everything.

  “You can come in if you want. I’m not afraid of you.”

  Joiner stroked her face. “I’m afraid of myself.”

  She kissed him and his response was sweet, tender, careful—as though she could feel his restraint.

  “It’s like there’s a wild horse rearing up in me, Stella, and I have to put on the bridle. Force him to be tamed.”

  “It is the same for me.”

  “If I knew where things were going between us…”

  Where are things going between us? she wanted to scream, but she didn’t. She’d already told him what she wanted that night under the stars. To say more would feel too forward, too degrading. He was going to have to figure it out.

  “I’m sure you’re tired and we have a big day ahead of us, but I need to talk to you about something.”

  This was classic Joiner. They had driven several hours in the car together, talking about the day, Cha Cha, War Eagle, where they would eat. For part of the time they’d listened to music, then she’d slept as he drove. They’d even commented on how nice it was to be able just to be quiet together. But now, when it was time for bed, he was ready to spill some beans.

  She sat down on her side of the doorway, and he sat down on his. He took her hands in his.

  “I have two things to talk to you about.”

  “Okay.” She rubbed one of his hands with her thumb.

  “The first thing is that I am done with bronco riding.”

  Stella couldn’t contain her joy at this news. A huge smile spread across her face and she closed her eyes, breathing a silent prayer of thanksgiving.

  “My brothers finally talked some sense into me, and I heard you had something to do with that. I don’t know why it has taken me so long to figure it out, and I am sorry. But I realize now that I do seek ways to escape to avoid dealing with my life. It’s not healthy, and I want to change it.”

  Stella was impressed by his ability to articulate everything. “Gosh. Those words can’t be easy to say. I’m so proud of you, Joiner.”

  “Looking back over our relationship, I want you to know that you’ve helped me to grow. From addressing your own fear and overcoming it to being patient with me, I appreciate your strength.” His eyes were deep purple, and they seemed to see into her soul.

  “You asked me when we went to the Mobleys’ about whether I’d healed after my parents’ deaths. I think there’s a part of me that never has healed.” Joiner’s eyes looked as if they might spill out a river of tears. “I’ve done a lot of honest searching, and I realized that I’ve been running as hard as I could—and as far as a horse could take me—in order to outrun the pain of losing my parents.”

  “I understand that pain.”

  “I know you do. But while you ran to safety, I ran to danger, and specifically, to adrenaline. It’s been the drug I used to medicate all of the hurt I felt when my parents died. Running wild and free on my horse was the only way I could get away from it after it happened, and I just never stopped. I guess I never wanted to stop, because I never wanted to experience that sense of loss again.”

  “Well, you can stop running now.” Stella reached across the invisible line of the doorway to hold him. He shuddered and lay his head on her shoulder, crying silently in her arms.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  THE DRIVE FROM Cha Cha’s to War Eagle Mill was breathtaking because the fall leaves in northwest Arkansas were at their peak. As they crept along the tiny winding road in bumper-to-bumper traffic, Joiner imbibed every hue on the spectrum from pale yellow to fiery orange to scarlet red. Hillbillies in cabins built from rough-hewn logs hung homemade quilts out for sale. Fat cows with shiny coats dotted the landscape. A quaint church sign offered Beans and Cornbread, and Homemade Pies.

  This was the Arkansas of folklore. Like the Romantic Road fulfilled a traveler’s vision of storybook Germany, the descent into War Eagle inspired people to say that Arkansas was the United States’s best-kept secret. For the first time, Joiner was inclined to believe them.

  They parked in a pasture with hundreds of other cars. Then they walked a quarter mile to the fair, which on one side of the river consisted of five circus tents full of booths, and on the other, more acres of booths that were not in tents. It was a festive atm
osphere. Stella liked to look at everything, she said, so Joiner walked with her through every tent.

  Joiner divided the vendors into three rough categories. There were what he would call crafters, the ones with stuff Joiner wasn’t sure what to do with. Then there were food booths with items that generally looked good. Stella picked up a few different dip mixes and a jar of salsa at two different ones. “For Cha Cha,” she said. “We always get these.”

  The third group was the true artisans. And even though Joiner couldn’t relate to having an art like this, he could appreciate it. There was some exquisite pottery. The prettiest was created by a lady who pressed real leaves into her pieces. She made the customer pay for it, too. But Joiner splurged on a platter for Alma that featured an oak leaf.

  Stella bought a new rolling pin from a wood-carver; it was made out of walnut and was therefore a deep, dark brown. The carver obviously took great pride in his work. When she paid him for it, he handed it to her as if he was handing her the moon.

  The favorite booth for both of them was owned by a Native American who made turquoise-and-silver jewelry. He was able to show them the different grades of turquoise, and why some pieces were more expensive than others. When Joiner saw that Stella was crazy about a pair of earrings in the shape of stars, he plunked down his money and bought them for her. She squealed with delight.

  They bought lemonade from a stand and munched on kettle corn as they filed across the wooden bridge. Once on the other side, it was more of the same. There was gorgeous stained glass, ironwork and an interesting soap-making operation. In the end they came away from that side of the fair with a leopard-print turban for Cha Cha and a coffee mug for Buster, bought from another amazing potter.

  When they made it back across the bridge, they walked down by the water and found a place to sit and rest. It was nice to enjoy the late afternoon sunshine before they left, hear the water turning the water wheel of the Mill and watch children feeding ducks. Joiner spread out his legs, leaning back on his hands, and Stella fitted herself into him, leaning against his chest. He kissed her cheek and smelled her sunbeam-colored hair, which smelled like rain and lemon. It was these moments that he wanted to last forever.

  “Joiner?” she said softly, touching her cheek to his.

  “Uh-huh.” He stole a quick nibble on her neck.

  She giggled, but turned to look him in the eye. “You remember last night you said you wanted to talk to me about two things?”

  “I did?”

  “Yes. You did. But we only talked about one.”

  “Well, the other one can wait for now. Let’s just sit here together and be happy.”

  “When are we going to talk about it?”

  “How about on the way home?”

  “Home to Cha Cha’s or home to Kilgore?”

  “Better make it Kilgore—that way there’s plenty of time.”

  Maybe by then he would have figured out how to tell her about Germany—and how to convince her to come with him. But Joiner knew in his heart that would never happen. It was asking too much. If she left her home she’d become someone she wasn’t. Just like he would, if he stayed.

  *

  WHEN THEY CALLED to see what Cha Cha wanted them to pick up for dinner, she still wasn’t feeling well. Stella’s face fell at the news. That morning, Cha Cha had stayed in bed as they’d made their own omelets and visited a few moments with Steve, who told them Cha Cha had had a bad night. Everyone was hopeful she’d get good rest during the day and be able to visit that night, but it seemed as if that wasn’t going to happen now.

  In fact, Steve said he was getting ready to take her to the emergency room.

  Stella and Joiner drove to the house quickly. They silently gathered their things and headed to the hospital in Siloam Springs. Cha Cha was already in a room waiting on the results of blood work. She looked very pale and small.

  “What are they saying? What’s going to happen?” Stella suddenly seemed to Joiner much younger than she was.

  Cha Cha shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Steve spoke up. “They’ll send her to Little Rock if there’s a sign of infection.”

  Stella had flown from Dallas to Little Rock the month before for Cha Cha’s surgery. It was a four-hour drive from where they were now. Joiner was weighing scenarios in his head when Cha Cha seemed to come alive.

  “You kids need to get on the road. If you’re not going to stay at my house tonight, you should get going. It’s a long way to Kilgore.”

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. And anyway, if it is, what can you do? You have to go to work on Monday to keep your school going.” Cha Cha cringed in pain. “Steve and I can handle this. You can’t be gallivanting around the country trying to take care of me.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” she repeated.

  “And I’m not leaving Stella,” Joiner added.

  Cha Cha grabbed Joiner’s arm. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Joiner. But I want you to make her leave with you and go back to Kilgore now.”

  They stayed another hour till it was clear, even to Stella, that it was doing Cha Cha more harm than good for them to stay. She was in pain, and their presence seemed to agitate her.

  “Why do you think she wanted us to leave?” Stella asked as they drove away from the hospital.

  “Probably because she loves you so much. It’s her way of protecting you.”

  “Then, I shouldn’t let her do that. Not if she needs me. I should stay anyway.”

  “No, she needs your respect more than she needs you to stay with her right now.” He let that sink in. “Besides, I think she really will be okay. She and Steve have got this.”

  “I sure hope you are right.”

  As it was late and things had taken this turn, Joiner hoped she would rest and not ask him to talk about his other thing. He had to tell her about Piet Quade’s phone call. But he still had no idea what he was going to do about it. And this was not the time to add another problem to Stella’s already long list.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  STELLA FELT SICK about leaving Cha Cha. After she and Joiner got on the road back to Kilgore, she continued to text both Steve and Cha Cha. They reported that there was an infection, and as there was no ambulance available, they were sending Cha Cha by helicopter to Little Rock. Steve was going to follow in their car.

  At midnight, Steve texted to say that the helicopter had arrived, and they were getting Cha Cha boarded. It was all so heavy, Stella felt as if her heart might break. First Cha Cha couldn’t go to War Eagle, an outing she truly loved. And then she’d been so sick, she’d stayed in bed that morning, which Stella knew Cha Cha hated to do. She’d been so excited to spend time with her and Joiner. Now, after a night and day of pain and restlessness, she’d found out she had an infection and it was serious enough that they were transporting her by helicopter to Little Rock.

  “How much can a person take?” Stella cried out to Joiner. “My poor, poor friend!”

  Just then the phone buzzed again. The text was a picture of Cha Cha hooked up to all kinds of equipment, an oxygen mask over her face and her body strapped into the helicopter. The message she’d typed in? Luke, I am your father.

  Stella burst out laughing and crying at the same time.

  After they’d stopped at Starbucks and continued down the road a bit, Joiner commented, “Your Cha Cha is a pretty amazing person.”

  “I know. There’s nobody else like her in the world.”

  “Thank you for taking me to meet her. I’m sorry it had to end this way.”

  “Me, too,” Stella agreed. “But I’m glad you met each other. Thank you for going.”

  “You can lean your head over here and go to sleep if you want. That Starbucks stop will do me for the rest of the way home.” He took a sip of his venti caramel macchiato.

  “Really, I’m not sleepy. I’m waiting for her to text me to say she arrived safely, and there’s still that other thi
ng you wanted to talk about.”

  “Nah, that can wait,” Joiner said. “Let’s just focus on what’s happening with Cha Cha and get you home.”

  “Joiner.” Stella pressed his knee. “I want you to talk to me.”

  “Okay,” he said, setting his drink in the cup holder and taking a deep breath. “I got an interesting phone call the other night.”

  Stella’s mind immediately went to the idea of an old girlfriend. Or possibly Adelaide and Sophia’s mother?

  “It was Piet Quade from Germany.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “He’s a multimillionaire, for one thing. Made all of his money in computer technology. He owns a company in Germany that we might compare to something similar to an online dating service, except that it matches people all over Europe with potential employers.”

  “What did he want with you?”

  “He recently bought the oldest and best polo team in Germany.” Joiner’s hands twisted on the steering wheel. “Stella, he wants me to come play for them.”

  “Oh my gosh, Joiner, that’s amazing!”

  He turned to her and smiled. “Really? You think so?”

  “Well, sure! I mean, when would you go? And when would you get back?”

  Joiner exhaled slowly. “It’s not like that. He wants me to move there. Sign a contract for a number of years.” He rubbed his chin. “The guy’s basically offering me a job back in professional polo. But a more secure one than I ever had before.”

  Stella felt her heart drop to her feet. “Oh. I see.”

  As panic threatened to sweep over her, she willed herself to stop it. She would not live a life of fear. Even if it killed her, she would let her fear go. As she told herself these things, she realized another—she would have to let Joiner go, too, if that’s what loving him required.

  “Now you talk to me, Stella.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say something.”

  “Well, Joiner, I’m very happy for you. This is your dream, isn’t it? Hasn’t it always been?”