by Arlene James
He straddled the chair and sat. “How’s Dad?”
Callie shook her head again. “Tough morning.”
Rex sighed. “What can I do?”
“You’re doing it. He just needs to know that the hay harvest is going well.”
“It’s going fine,” Rex said, focusing on his plate. Slower than he’d like, but that was nothing to worry about. So long as it didn’t rain.
“Did you speak to A.G.?”
“Yep. He’ll be back later with some papers for me. If I’m not here, just put them on the desk in the study.”
“Okay.”
Rex ate quickly, then rose and prepared to go to his father’s room.
“He’s sleeping,” Callie warned, placing a plastic jug of iced tea on the table, along with a trio of energy bars, “but I’ll tell him that you looked in.” Rex nodded and stuffed the energy bars into his shirt pocket. “And if you want, you can take your dinner in his room with him tonight. I don’t think he’ll feel up to the table for a while.”
Rex felt a pang of disappointment, but he said, “That’ll be good.”
“I think Wes will like it,” Callie told him, smiling.
Returning her smile, Rex took the jug by the handle and walked off in the direction of his father’s room. The door stood open, and Rex stopped there to look inside. As Callie had predicted, Wes slept heavily.
Something about him seemed different. Rex felt Callie at his elbow, and as if she’d read his mind, she whispered, “He asked me to cut his hair.”
“I hadn’t realized how gray he’s gone,” Rex said softly.
He felt her hand settle between his shoulder blades, a light, warm, comforting weight. After a moment, Rex turned away from his father’s room and walked back down the hall past the kitchen, aware that Callie quietly, slowly followed, Bodie on her hip. Just before he stepped around the newel post at the end of the staircase into the foyer, he paused and looked back.
Callie lifted her free hand in a little gesture of farewell. Suddenly, Rex couldn’t leave it just at that. This woman cooked his meals, did his laundry, took care of his ailing father, made their home. Yes, they paid her, but she did so much more than what they’d hired her to do. He couldn’t imagine doing this without her or that little bundle of joy on her hip.
He walked straight back down that hall and kissed Bodie in the center of her forehead, winning a toothy grin for his trouble. Then he kissed Callie in the center of her forehead, bangs and all. Grinning, he swept them a bow as he turned and headed for the door again, swinging the jug of tea and saying, “Later, my ladies.”
Bodie babbled something he couldn’t make out. Callie said not a word. It didn’t matter. Rex was busy telling himself that kisses weren’t necessarily romantic. In this case, it was more about gratitude than anything else.
And I am a lousy liar, Rex thought. Even if I’m only trying to lie to myself. I’m going to dream about her again tonight. What an idiot I am. God help me.
He meant it very sincerely. He very much needed some kind of intervention here. Callie was no more meant for him than the Straight Arrow was. When he’d graduated high school, he hadn’t been able to get out of town fast enough. He’d gone off to college with bountiful eagerness, certain that he’d never want to return permanently, and he hadn’t.
Tulsa had worked out well for him, at least until the implosion of his marriage. A graceful city with just enough money and society to provide a cosmopolitan atmosphere and a touch of culture, it was neither as large nor as frenetic as the state capitol, but it had suited him. He enjoyed a good workout at the gym and an occasional game of tennis, and until his divorce he’d been able to keep a horse and ride, not as often as he’d have liked, true, but he’d still enjoyed it.
After he’d left his job, he’d sent the horse, Diamond, a showy bay gelding, back here to the ranch. Then suddenly, his dad was fighting cancer and facing surgery, and Rex found himself following Diamond back to the Straight Arrow. That didn’t mean either of them would be staying.
He had a law practice and a whole other life to get back to; until then, though, he had a job to do here. That hay wasn’t going to bale, transport and store itself.
He climbed back into the truck and headed out to the field, tea and energy bars in tow.
* * *
Crowsen hadn’t even bothered to have an attorney draw up the contract. He couldn’t have. Even the worst attorney would have known that at least one of the provisions of his loan to A. G. Carruthers was illegal, but then a banker would have known that, too. Rex took no satisfaction in recommending that A.G. seek legal redress. In an effort to keep his name out of it, he declined to handle the case himself. The last thing he needed was more trouble with Stuart Crowsen. Instead, he sent A.G. to a friend of his in Healdton.
Tom Jackson was a fine lawyer, especially in a courtroom, but he had no taste for city life. He’d left a promising career in Tulsa for a general practice in his hometown. His own father was a banker, so he seemed a perfect choice to handle A.G.’s case. In only a matter of days, Tom called to thank Rex for the referral. He was too professional to discuss the merits of the case, but a week hadn’t passed when A.G. reported that Crowsen had amended the terms of the loan, which A.G. had already paid off.
Nobody’s fool, Crowsen had to know that he didn’t have a legal leg to stand on, so he hadn’t fought. Instead, he’d tried to quietly put the matter to rest, assuming that A.G.’s dependence on the Feed and Grain would keep the younger man quiet. A.G. was perhaps not as wise as he should have been, though, and he bragged about his victory. Soon, Rex had a steady stream of folks trekking out to the ranch with various loan papers and contracts in tow.
Most of the agreements that Rex reviewed were completely legal if somewhat, in Rex’s personal opinion, unethical. Being the only source of money in town, Crowsen seemed to charge higher interest and exact stricter terms than most lenders. Rex repeatedly pointed out that it might be worth driving out of town to borrow.
In some instances, usually those involving smaller amounts and emergency situations, Stuart’s terms were downright appalling. Rex sent those clients straight to Jackson, so many—seven in only days—that Tom referred several of them to other attorneys willing to take on Crowsen. It wouldn’t take Stuart long to realize who was at the bottom of his troubles, so Rex reluctantly girded himself for a confrontation.
Meanwhile, Wes finally began to rally from his first chemotherapy treatment. Though company still wasn’t recommended, he got out of the bed and came to the table for meals again. Over the course of the next ten days, the winter hay was finally baled. With the weatherman promising rain by the following Thursday, Rex took just enough of a break on Sunday for church before heading back into the field.
Now, with the remaining crew transporting and storing the fodder, Rex felt comfortable stealing Callie away for a couple hours. She’d worked as hard as he had. The hay had to be safely stored today, so Rex had even lent his, or rather, the ranch pickup to the task. He meant to ride horseback between the storage barns to make sure everything was in place and secured. With Soldier on the mend, Rex judged it an excellent time to give the old stud some much-needed exercise, and with Wes finally feeling better, Rex didn’t see why Callie and Bodie couldn’t accompany him and give Diamond a workout, too.
Even as he questioned the wisdom of having Callie to himself for a while, Rex couldn’t deny the urge to spend some personal time with her. Besides, Bodie would be with them. She’d be as good a chaperone as they were likely to find. Now all he had to do was convince Callie.
“You ride, don’t you?” he asked at the lunch table that Wednesday after Duffy had dropped him off at the house.
“Sure. Can’t live around War Bonnet and not wind up on a horse at some time or other.”
Rex glanced at his father, picked up the se
cond half of his sandwich and said, “Well, then, what’s the problem? I have two horses that need exercise, a crew that needs checking on, and just one me, unless you come along.”
“What about Bodie?” she asked, as he’d known she would.
“My mom used to tie me to her waist and ride with me in front of her. Isn’t that right, Dad?”
Wes smiled as if remembering. “That’s right.” He waved a hand at Bodie, adding, “You used to try to hold the reins even before you were her age.” He shook his head, and Rex noticed that his hair was thinning. “Of course,” Wes said, “that was before kids had to wear helmets just to ride bicycles.”
“Helmet,” Callie echoed, her big green eyes widening. “I should’ve thought of that. I hope it fits.” She rubbed Bodie’s head. “Wait here.” With that, she ran from the room.
Rex looked at Wes, who shrugged, then at Bodie, who gave him a flirty grin, showing him her teeth. By the time Callie returned, Rex had polished off the rest of his sandwich and nearly everything else on the table. She had in hand a small silver helmet and a bright yellow plastic square.
“Bo and I used to ride our bicycles all over the campground. As soon as I told him I was pregnant, he bought this so we could take the baby with us one day. It was the smallest one he could find.” She set it on Bodie’s head. Bodie tilted her head back, looking up into the helmet. Everyone laughed, which only encouraged Bodie to try that again. Eventually, however, Callie got the chinstrap buckled. “It’s still a little large, but I think it’ll do.”
“What is that other thing?” Wes asked.
“Oh. Well, I bought that,” Callie said. “Living at the falls, I figured we’d have to take the baby swimming, so...” She unfolded the plastic square, revealing that it was actually a flotation vest.
After inflating the thing, they all realized that the helmet had to be removed so the vest could be slipped over Bodie’s head. Callie belted the vest in place then went through the process of buckling the helmet again. Bodie wasn’t happy with her strange new outfit, plucking and tugging at it, but the helmet and vest, which protected her front and back, would cushion her if she should fall from the horse. She’d be as safe as they could make her. Rex held her and laughed as she squirmed while her mom covered her arms and face with sunscreen. Then Callie packed up a small bag of necessities and another of drinks and snacks, and they were off, Rex admonishing Wes to call his cell phone if he had the slightest need.
“Don’t worry about me,” Wes said, waving them toward the door. “I’m gonna watch a little TV and take a nap.”
“We won’t be gone long,” Rex promised. “Couple hours, tops.”
“Take your time,” Wes insisted. “Callie’s already got dinner in the slow cooker. Everything else can wait.”
Callie kissed the top of his head before carrying Bodie from the room. Rex noted the pleased, almost conspiratorial gleam in his father’s eyes. Unless he missed his guess, the old man was indulging in a bit of matchmaking. Rex wished he could be wise enough not to enjoy it, but he had every intention of enjoying his time with Callie and Bodie, too.
What was not to enjoy, after all? A beautiful woman, a cute kid who adored him, a good horse and time to kill on a glorious day. It occurred to him as he saddled the horses and listened to Callie and Bodie making friends with them that on a day like today he’d probably have hit the gym, trying to make up for all the days he’d missed. Then he’d have cleaned up and looked for someone to share a meal with him. Afterward, he’d have gone back to his empty condo alone and listened to the TV while he worked on some case file or slipped off to sleep on the sofa while trying to read.
Rex had to shake his head when he thought of all the good that lifetime gym membership had done him. A few weeks on the ranch had accomplished more for his general fitness than all the workouts he’d forced himself to endure.
Come to think of it, his mood seemed lighter lately, despite his dad’s medical condition. Must have something to do with all this sunshine. Didn’t hurt that lately he’d felt a real sense of purpose, either.
The law mattered; he knew that, believed it. Somehow, though, the bigger the case the less it seemed to actually impact real people. He’d felt more satisfaction telling A. G. Carruthers to sue Stuart Crowsen for a few thousand bucks than he’d ever felt negotiating multimillion-dollar settlements between corporations, just as he’d felt more satisfaction sitting down at Callie’s table than he had dining at the most sophisticated restaurants in Tulsa. A.G. was real people; Callie’s food was real food.
Maybe ranch life was real life, and he’d just been too blind to see it until now.
He looked at Callie Deviner and her precious little daughter.
He wasn’t blind anymore.
Chapter Nine
Rex’s Diamond lived up to his name. Callie couldn’t help admiring the animal. His black mane, tail and four black stockings set off a deep red coat relieved only by a small, white, diamond-shaped blaze on the forehead. His prancing gait proudly proclaimed that he knew he was beautiful, but he was just as beautifully behaved. The butternut sorrel stud by which Wes set such store, aptly named Soldier, was a taller, heavier horse, but age had mellowed his disposition. Unfortunately, Bodie literally screamed to go with Rex, holding out her arms and opening and closing her fingers in a grasping motion. Rex good-naturedly consented to parking her in front of him and allowing Callie to tie them together with the paisley shawl she’d brought for that purpose.
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered to her daughter as she knotted the cloth. “How did you get so spoiled?” Bodie just kicked a foot complacently and rammed her fingers in her mouth, the chinstrap on her helmet being too restrictive to allow her to get her fist in. Rex snickered, and Callie sent him a quelling glance. “You’re not helping.”
“Is it my fault if I’m irresistible?”
Callie rolled her eyes and went to mount her own horse. If he’d had any real idea how truly irresistible he was, she’d be in deep trouble. Bodie squealed with delight as they started off. Leaning forward, she grasped the saddle horn with both hands and tried to shake it. Rex kept an arm wrapped around her. She bucked and kicked and waved her hands, either trying to hurry things along or just enjoying herself. Then suddenly, several minutes into their ride, she seemed to look down and realize how far from the ground she sat.
Her little eyes went wide, and she fell back against Rex’s chest with such force that he grunted. Her tiny fingers dug into his forearm.
“Ow. Her fingernails are sharp.”
“Stop. She’s scared.”
He immediately brought the horse to a halt. Callie rode the bay up close to them and reached over to pat her daughter on the knee. Earlier, when Rex had donned a rather battered straw cowboy hat, he’d offered Callie an old baseball cap, which she now wore with sunglasses, her chin-length hair tucked behind her ears. She wanted to tell him just how well he wore his hat, but she didn’t dare. Instead, she pushed back the cap and shifted the glasses to the brim before addressing her daughter.
“It’s okay, baby. Mama’s here. It’s okay.”
She caught Bodie by the hand and started her horse slowly forward, Rex nudging his mount along with hers. Soon Bodie relaxed. Before long, she was kicking and squirming and grasping the saddle horn again. They rode to the first barn and found it tightly packed. Rex told her that the seasoned hay had been shifted to the front and the new cutting was stored in the back. They dismounted there and sat in the shade of a tree, sharing drinks and conversation.
“So how do you really think Dad’s doing?” Rex asked after a few minutes.
“As well as can be expected,” Callie answered honestly. “It’s tough, but he’s handling it with as much grace as anyone could.”
“I worry his pride will keep him from asking for help when he needs it.”
�
��It may keep him from asking, but it doesn’t keep him from accepting help when it’s offered.”
“I guess that’s good.”
Callie nodded. “I think so.”
“Well, I don’t want to keep you away from him for too long,” Rex said, clapping his hands against his thighs, “so I guess we should mount up.”
This time, Bodie didn’t protest when Callie took her onto the sorrel with her. Rex helped by continually engaging Bodie with smiles and funny noises. She liked that she could see herself in his mirrored sunglasses. They reached the second pole barn to find the men standing around scratching their heads, their trucks still filled with hay bales.
“What’s going on?” Rex asked, leaning a forearm against his saddle horn.
Woody, the grizzled older hand, shifted a wad of tobacco from one side of his lower lip to the other with the tip of his tongue and said, “We’ve crammed hay into ever’ nook and cranny we can find, boss, and now what’re we s’posed to do?”
“Third barn’s full?” Rex asked.
“I’m thinkin’ we lifted her off the ground we stuffed so much under that metal roof.”
“A good harvest then,” Callie noted, smiling.
Rex calmly removed his sunglasses and pushed back his hat with his forearm. “I guess the rest of this better store up at the house barn then. Just remember not to feed it to the horses until it’s aged. And ask Cam to check on Dad for me.”
“Yes, sir, boss,” Woody said, already turning away. He waved a hand over his head, shouting, “Y’all head to the house. I’ll show you where to put it.” Spitting a brown stream, he looked back over his shoulder at Rex. “I used to wipe your nose,” he said, “and I shined your britches a time or two.”
“Only when I deserved it,” Rex admitted good-naturedly.
Woody grinned, showing teeth stained by the tobacco he used. “The old man’s gonna be right pleased.”
Rex smiled. “Still have the oats and sorghum to get in. Dean Pryor will be here to get that started before long.”
