Arizona Cowboy

by Jennifer Collins Johnson

He opened his arms wide. “I would have taken care of you, would have done everything in my power to help our baby survive, to make him well.”

  She shook her head as she dug a pen and a piece of paper out of her purse. She wrote down the word that would be forever imprinted on her heart, then shoved the paper into his hand. “This is what he had. Look it up. You couldn’t fix him.”

  He frowned at the sheet of paper. “What does this even say?”

  “Anencephaly. He was missing most of his brain.”

  Holden wrinkled his nose and his chin quivered. “But surely doctors can... Medicine is so advanced nowadays and...”

  “It happens soon after conception. There was nothing you could do.”

  His eyes flashed with renewed anger. “I could have known.”

  “Yes.” She lifted her purse strap higher on her shoulder. “And you should have.” She turned to walk back to her car, then stopped. “Aunt Irene was with me when he was born. We knew he was already dead—” her voice caught and she swallowed back her emotions “—but she brought a camera and took lots of pictures. You can see them anytime you’d like.”

  Ava took a step, then a hand grabbed her and turned her around. Strong arms enfolded her and held her tight. She leaned against Holden and wrapped her arms around his waist. After a few moments, without a word, he released her and walked to his truck.

  She waited until he’d driven away before kneeling next to the marker. Allowing her fingers to gently trace the letter H, she whispered, “Your daddy would have loved you so much.” She pressed a kiss to her fingertips, then touched the letter before walking back to the car.

  Aunt Irene had returned home from Jerry’s by the time Ava arrived. She smiled at her aunt, determined to have a good holiday with her family. “How was practice?”

  “Terrific. We’re ready. How was the decorating?” Her aunt pretended to sound nonchalant, but Ava knew the woman too well. She worried about Ava.

  “It looks nice. What can I do to help?” She decided not to mention seeing Holden. Today was not a day to worry about what was past. It was a day to celebrate freedom and those who’d fought so diligently for it.

  Aunt Irene gave her a bunch of celery and Ava pulled off the stalks and washed them in the sink. The phone rang, and Aunt Irene answered. Her expression fell, then she said goodbye and hung up.

  “What was that about?” asked Ava.

  “Seems we’ll be one person shy tonight for dinner.” Aunt Irene waved and forced a smile. “That’s all right, though. One less mouth to feed.”

  “Who’s not coming?”

  Her aunt averted her gaze. “Holden’s gonna spend the holiday with Jake’s family.”

  * * *

  Holden sat beside Traci and Carl in the performing arts center at the high school. Dad had been a nervous wreck most of the morning about Senior Idol having finally arrived. Daryl and Sara stood in the door, and he waved for them to join the group. Ava followed, and Holden’s heart constricted. She was so pretty in a white sundress and blue jewelry. Her skin glowed from the hot Arizona sun. She’d pulled her hair back in a low ponytail, making her look younger and reminding him of the summer they’d fallen in love.

  Sara plopped down beside their sister and rubbed Traci’s belly. She leaned down. “How’s our little sunflower doing today?”

  Traci touched her slightly bulging belly. “Growing like a weed. According to the book, she’s about eleven inches long and weighs a pound.”

  Carl lifted his finger and nodded. “And we go by the book.”

  Traci punched his arm. “Don’t make fun of me.”

  Sara punched him, as well. “Yeah. We’re excited about our little girl.” She cooed at Traci’s belly. “Aren’t we, little one?”

  Carl raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just kidding. I can’t wait to see her. And just so you know, she’s gonna be a daddy’s girl.”

  Holden bit his tongue as his sisters and brothers-in-law continued to banter. He was excited to have a niece and wanted her to be healthy, and yet a piece of him was envious of them because his son hadn’t been. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ava was studying the program a bit too intensely.

  He’d researched the word anencephaly. Looked at pictures. Read stories. Researched causes and cures. Ava hadn’t done anything to cause their son’s deformity, but she’d been able to feel their son move inside her. He would have wanted to touch her belly, to feel proof of little Holden’s life when he was safe inside his mother. Instead, he could only visit a marker in a cemetery and see pictures he hadn’t yet had the courage to ask for.

  The coordinator for the senior center walked onto the stage. “Good afternoon, family and friends. We are pleased to have you with us this afternoon.” She talked about the center’s activities and funds needed to help keep it running. She even showed a quick slideshow of pictures from the last year. Holden rubbed his eyes with his knuckle. He hadn’t been sleeping well.

  The show finally started with a ventriloquist act. The older gentleman told terrific jokes, but most of the time he forgot to move the puppet’s mouth when the little guy was supposed to be talking. The next performance was a trio of ladies singing a patriotic song. Holden bowed his head and prayed for strength not to cover his ears. Afterward, a married couple waltzed, then a man sang. Next, a woman read some of her own poetry, and on and on.

  The coordinator’s voice boomed over the microphone. “Our next performance is Irene Hall and Jerry Whitaker singing ‘Islands in the Stream,’ originally sung by Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers.”

  The family clapped, and Holden let out a loud whistle. His dad and Irene walked onto the stage holding hands. He wore a black Western shirt with white trim, blue jeans, a black belt with a large red buckle, black boots and a black cowboy hat with red trim. But Irene was a hoot. She wore a huge blond wig, a red-and-white-checkered scarf around her neck and red cowgirl boots. The Western-style dress matched the scarf and even included the enhancements Dolly Parton was known for.

  Holden glanced at Ava, who tried to cover her giggles with the program in front of her mouth. He hadn’t realized Phoebe sat beside her. She pointed to her chest and mouthed, “I made the dress. You like it?”

  He nodded and winked as he gave her a thumbs-up. The music started, and Holden noticed his dad looked paler than he should have. Irene grabbed his hand, and his dad started to sing. Whispers sounded around them from people who were surprised that Jerry Whitaker had such a nice voice.

  Irene belted her lyrics, and someone in the corner whistled. She had such an amazing talent. They started their choreography of simple moves that went along with the words of the song. His dad’s face shone with adoration as he looked into Irene’s eyes as he sang.

  When the song ended, the crowd jumped out of their seats and applauded. Dad and Irene bowed, and she blew kisses to the crowd. The show soon ended and the winner was announced. The ventriloquist. They hadn’t expected Dad and Irene to win. Once a winner, no longer a participant.

  The crowd started to leave, and Holden and the family stood up and waited for Dad and Irene to make their way to them.

  “They did a terrific job,” said Sara.

  Daryl added, “I never knew ol’ Jerry had it in him.”

  “None of us did,” said Traci. “And to think Irene said he used to sing when they were in high school.”

  “I didn’t see Mitch and Matt,” said Sara.

  Ava pointed to the other side of the hall, where they were beginning to make their way toward them. “They came in a little late.”

  Dad and Irene finally made it past the crowd of friends congratulating them. Their faces shone with delight, and they still held hands. Irene gestured toward all of them. “Let’s get some ice cream together.”

  “Sounds good to me and little squirt,” said Traci, as
she rubbed her belly.

  “She’s our sunflower,” reprimanded Sara.

  Daryl patted Dad’s back. “I still can’t believe you can sing.”

  “Wonders never cease.” His voice slurred the S.

  Irene frowned. “Jerry, are you okay?”

  He swatted the air. “I’m fine. I’ve never sung in front of a group like that. Just got a little nervous.”

  Irene didn’t seem convinced, but Dad kissed her cheek and she perked up and clapped her hands. “Let’s get that ice cream.”

  Holden followed his family to the parking lot. He felt sure it wouldn’t be long before his dad and Irene announced their engagement. Everyone around him had found love, while he’d only found out painful secrets.

  Chapter 19

  A noise startled Ava from her sleep. She squinted and rubbed her eyes with her fingertips. It was still dark. She glanced at the alarm clock. One o’clock. She heard the noise again. She blinked several times. That’s my phone. Who would possibly be calling at this hour?

  She reached for the smartphone, pulled it off the charger and pressed Talk. “Hello?”

  “Ava. It’s Holden.”

  The panic in his voice startled her. She sat up straight. “Holden, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s Dad. We’re at the hospital. He’s had a stroke.”

  “What?” Her heartbeat raced and a cold sweat washed down her body.

  “He’s gonna be okay, but he wants Irene.”

  Ava nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her response. “Okay. We’ll be right there.”

  Ava pressed End and flung her legs over the side of the bed. She looked up, startled, when she saw her aunt standing in the door. Fear filled Aunt Irene’s expression and she gripped her nightgown at her chest. “Who was that?”

  “It was Holden.”

  “What’s wrong with Jerry?” Her voice sounded frail.

  Ava went to her aunt and grabbed her hands. “Holden said he’s had a stroke, but that he’s going to be okay. He wants to see you.”

  Aunt Irene gasped, then turned on her heels. “Let’s get ready quick.”

  Ava threw on a pair of capris and a thin T-shirt. She brushed her teeth, then combed her hair and put it in a ponytail. After tossing some fruit, granola bars and bottles of water into a bag, she scooped up her purse and dug out her keys. “I’m ready, Aunt Irene.”

  Her aunt raced out of the bedroom with her shirt half tucked in her pants, and wearing mismatched shoes. Ava pointed to her feet, and she raced back into the bedroom and switched them, then shooed Ava out the door.

  “Please, God. Heal his body,” Irene prayed.

  Ava drove as quickly as she could, and dropped her aunt off at the entrance, then parked the car. Her mind swirled with prayers. For Jerry to be okay. For her aunt to be calm. For Holden to be strong. For Holden’s sisters and brothers-in-law. Comfort them all, Lord.

  She walked into the emergency room lobby and saw Holden sitting in a chair. He was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands cupping his head. She bit her lip, unsure what to do. She didn’t see his sisters or Aunt Irene. Daryl stood by a vending machine, while Carl slouched in a chair, fast asleep, his head pressed back against the wall.

  Holden already reeled from the hurt of finding out about their son, and she constantly prayed for him to find peace and forgiveness. Seeing him hurt anew over his dad made her heart clench, and Ava couldn’t help but move toward him and sit down.

  He glanced at her. His eyelids were heavy with fatigue and worry. Then he dipped his head again. Ava swallowed. She wanted to reach over and touch his shoulder or his arm, but she didn’t want to make him angry. She was probably the last person he wanted to console him.

  Pushing the insecurity away, she looped her hand around his arm. She opened her mouth to share sympathy or a prayer or just a word of concern. Then she snapped her lips shut. He didn’t need words right now.

  They sat there for several moments, while Holden leaned forward, his head in his hands. One of Ava’s hands wrapped around his elbow, and she tucked the other between her knees to keep it from shaking.

  “He went to bed early. Said he had a headache.” Holden’s words were quiet, and he didn’t lift his head. “I don’t even know why, but I went in to check on him.” He lifted his head and looked at her. “I never do that. For some reason, I just went in there.”

  “The Holy Spirit nudged you.” Ava bit her lip. She meant to only listen.

  Holden studied her before he nodded. “Yeah. I think so, too.” He touched his cheek. “Dad’s face was pulled down on the side, and he could hardly lift his arms. I called 911, and Dad whispered, “Aspirin.”

  Ava wanted to squeeze Holden’s biceps or fold her arms around him, something to show him that she was there to comfort him.

  “I gave him the aspirin. Had to put it in his mouth, and he fought to swallow.” Holden grinned. “He’s a stubborn fighter, you know.”

  Ava allowed a slow smile. She knew. Holden was the same way. When he decided something, he had a one-track mind about it. He’d tried to talk to her all those years ago. Now, she prayed he wouldn’t remain zeroed in on not forgiving her.

  He shook his head. “Dad scared the life out of me, but the doc thinks he’s gonna be okay.”

  “Holden.” Traci’s voice sounded behind them.

  He turned. “Yeah?”

  “Dad’s resting. I’m gonna go home so I can work in the morning.” She pointed to the doors. “You can go back there with Irene and Sara and sit with him.”

  “Sure.”

  Without saying a word to Ava, Holden stood and walked through the doors. Her heart broke that he didn’t want her with him. She could be a comfort for him to lean on. She thought of Holden’s words at the cemetery and how stricken he’d looked that she hadn’t allowed him to help her through the pain. She’d been such a fool. She hadn’t protected him. She’d taken away his chance to mourn and her chance for comfort. She couldn’t blame him if he never forgave her.

  * * *

  Holden was pleased with his dad’s progress. In only a week’s time, he was able to get around with a walker, and a lot of the drooping of his face had gone away. His speech was till slurred, but it was understandable.

  And yet Dad struggled with depression and fear. He had moments when he would panic and want Holden and both of his sisters near him. Dad would grab a notepad and pen to be sure he could scribble words. His writing looked like that of a kindergartener, but as long as he could get a word or two out he was satisfied.

  Holden walked to the barn to take care of a few chores. He was glad to be away from the tension for a while. The hot sun beat down upon him. He’d need to check on the cattle, as well.

  Once Holden finished all the work he could, he walked back to the house. He smiled when he saw Jake and several of the boys standing around his father. Dad’s grin was still a bit lopsided as he pointed to the papers in his hand. “They brought cards.”

  Zack saw Holden and gave him a quick hug. “We missed you last night.”

  Holden tousled the redhead’s hair. “I missed you guys, too. I should be there next week.”

  “We’re glad your dad’s okay. We prayed for him last night,” said Vince.

  Holden patted Jake’s new stepson’s back. “I appreciate that.”

  “Why don’t you boys get ice cream?” said Dad as he pointed toward the kitchen. Each word was a battle, but he’d gotten them out. The boys scurried inside, proof enough that they’d understood.

  Sara’s voice came from the kitchen. “We’ve got ice cream sandwiches, but you’ll have to eat them in here.”

  Chair legs clanked against the floor as the boys sat down at the table. Holden gave his dad a thumbs-up. “That’ll keep ’em busy for a few minut
es.”

  His dad smiled a lopsided smile again, then leaned back in the chair, clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. He’d been up awhile when Holden went out to check on the ranch, so he was certainly ready for a nap now.

  “Megan’s bringing over some supper tomorrow night. Irene already told her what she could make,” said Jake.

  Holden glanced to the woman who stood at their kitchen sink, washing dishes. She had spent a good deal of the morning chopping vegetables and fruits into pieces Dad could eat. She watched over him like Betty did her own calf.

  Holden shook his friend’s hand. “We appreciate that. Irene would never admit it, but she probably needs a break.”

  “Does Ava come over, too?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes.”

  “How are the two of you?”

  “Fine, I suppose. I make myself scarce when she comes. It’s not like I don’t have plenty to do.”

  “Still not talking to her then?”

  Holden lifted one shoulder. “We’ve talked. I just don’t go out of my way....”

  “You’re just being stubborn.”

  “No.” He tapped his chest with his finger. “I think I have good reason to be angry.”

  Jake lifted his arms. “So, you’re going to stay mad forever? What good will that do? What will it prove?”

  “It doesn’t have to prove anything.”

  “You’re hurting yourself. Forgive her and move on.”

  “I’m trying to forgive her,” Holden exclaimed.

  Dad stirred. He opened his eyes, looked around, then shut them again.

  “Everything all right in there?” Irene asked.

  Holden’s cheeks warmed. He didn’t want her to know what they were talking about. “It’s fine. Sorry ’bout that.”

  Jake rubbed his palms together and looked past him. “Listen, Holden. We can talk about this another time.”

  “No. You listen. Just because you forgive someone doesn’t mean you want to have a relationship with them.”

  Jake closed his eyes and exhaled, then tipped his head for Holden to look behind him. He turned and saw Ava standing there with a package of bottled water.