by Mary Leo
RuthieAnn swallowed her third big bite and said, “You don’t know much about my dad, do you?”
“No. Not really.”
Reluctantly, she put her burger down on her plate. “My parents were always too wasted to discipline us. We more or less raised ourselves. I even potty trained Kevin. Mom couldn’t seem to get around to it, and Kevin was still in diapers well past three years old. Since I was the only one who would change his diapers, one day when I’d finally had enough, I stuck him on the toilet and told him from now on he would use the bathroom like everyone else. I warned him that no one would change his dirty diapers anymore so he’d better learn fast.”
“How’d he do?”
“After sitting there for what seemed like forever, and crying over his new responsibility, he sucked it up and did as he was told. He never once had an accident, especially after I let him borrow one of my Star Wars underpants. After that, I stole enough money out of my mother’s purse and bought him his own Amazing Hulk underwear and he never looked back.”
Another memory she’d forgotten.
“How old were you when all this happened?”
“About eight going on nine.”
“You had to grow up fast.”
“We both did. That’s what happens when your parents are alcoholics. You raise yourself.”
RuthieAnn had come to terms with all of this years ago, but now that she said it out loud to someone other than a therapist, she felt as though she was finally ready to let it go. She picked up her burger again and took another big bite, savoring the flavors as she chewed, then swallowed.
“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that.”
“Thanks, but it’s over now, so I try not to think about it. My focus is on my son and my career. I thought long and hard about coming back here.”
Chase sat back in his chair, his amber eyes sparkling under his cream-colored cowboy hat, his white shirt still crisp despite his spending the night on a chair. What attracted her most about his looks this morning was all that facial hair. She imagined kissing him again, rubbing her cheek against his. She could only imagine how delightfully sexy she would feel lying next to him . . .
RuthieAnn shoved those thoughts aside. She’d made a promise to herself to not get involved with another man the day she somehow managed to walk away from Lucky only one week after sweet Jayden was born and moved into Hope For The Angels, a sort of halfway house for recovering new mothers. Ever since that day, RuthieAnn had also made a promise to her new baby boy that he would only know love and happiness.
So far she’d been able to keep her promises.
Ever since that day, there hadn’t been another man in RuthieAnn’s life, at least none that could turn into anything romantic, and RuthieAnn intended to keep it that way. Sure, there were men that Jayden could look up to—his teacher and his occupational therapist—but RuthieAnn shied away from anyone who tried to get too close. She absolutely refused to let anyone come between herself and her precious son. Their relationship was the only thing that mattered . . . he was the only person that mattered.
Her all-consuming guilt for having caused FASD in her beautiful son colored her every decision, as well it should. She didn’t think she would ever get past what her drinking had inflicted on her precious boy, but at least she’d taken responsibility for it, and was doing everything in her power to give him all the love and all the help he needed to live his best life.
Until Jayden could function independently—and she would do everything she could to ensure that happened—she had no intention of introducing a potential father figure into his life, and especially not Chase Cooper. Sure he seemed like a great guy, but he came with far too much baggage, and way too many memories that she’d tried to bury.
She’d learned the hard way that, like her mom, she was a poor judge of character. Jayden’s bio dad, Lucky, was serving five to ten years in a state prison for an entire litany of misdemeanors and a felony. If RuthieAnn had any say in the matter, he would rot there for the rest of his sorry-ass life.
Unfortunately, no one had asked for her opinion.
“But you came back. Why?” Chase asked, leaning forward, resting an elbow on the small table. The cafeteria was getting more crowded as time went on and the noise level seemed to increase ten-fold.
RuthieAnn wasn’t sure how to answer that question. Now wasn’t the time to confess the real reason, so instead, she used the obvious. “Guilt. My dad was right when he accused me of never contacting him. I hadn’t wanted to, and even now I’m leery about being here. I mean, I could’ve just had his lawyer send me all the paperwork.”
“But you didn’t. You came back instead. That means something.”
“And what do you think it means, Chase Cooper?”
He was getting too inquisitive now and she didn’t know if she liked it.
“I think it means that underneath all the arguing and bitter words that you and your dad exchange, you care about him. Maybe it’s from that time before your brother was born, when you were planting flowers with your mom and putting up pictures of rainbows in your room. Maybe you remember more of that time than you think. It’s all there in your subconscious, so the good feelings paint your resentment, your anger. I bet if you take the time to really think about it, you’ll remember more about those flower days.”
She didn’t like where this conversation was heading. Something about it caused her to want to back away from it, back away from Chase.
“I don’t know that I want to. I like thinking of him as a bastard. If I think of him as anything else, the guilt for staying away might rip me apart.”
“You couldn’t have changed who’d he had become even if you came back, but those memories might change how you feel about him now. And who knows, there might be some answers in those memories that could make you understand him better.”
His attitude towards her dad puzzled Ruthie. “Why do you care so much about my dad? I don’t get it.”
“I’ll tell you the whole story someday when we have more time. But for now let’s just say that I wouldn’t be sitting here with you if it wasn’t for your dad. I owe him my life.”
RuthieAnn was no longer hungry. Her stomach suddenly clenched, and she felt a little nauseous. She had no idea what Chase meant by that statement, but she knew now for certain that what Lucky had done could have killed Chase if somehow her dad hadn’t stepped in to save him . . . but how was that possible?
“Are you okay?” Chase asked. “You look a little sick. Hospital food is always bad, but I haven’t heard of it acting this fast.”
“I think I’d like to go back up to that waiting room and close my eyes for a bit. I’m suddenly exhausted.”
“You got it,” he said as he grabbed both trays, went over and emptied them while RuthieAnn waited for him near the entrance. When he took her hand in his, surrounding her with his warmth and kindness, it took everything she had not to pull away from the entire situation and never ever return.
Fortunately, that was the old Ruthie, the RuthieAnn who tried to run away from her life. This new RuthieAnn who chose to stay and raise her son, had no choice but to find a way to tell him the truth . . . and she would . . . but just not today.
BY THE TIME Chase arrived back in Clark’s room, all the blinds were drawn and Clark seemed to be in a deep sleep. RuthieAnn’s friend Pearl had stopped by to see if she could do anything for Ruthie. Chase grabbed the opportunity and had insisted they get out of the hospital for a while and maybe grab a cup of coffee . . . good coffee . . . somewhere. After much persuasion from both Pearl and Chase, RuthieAnn finally agreed. The two women took off with the promise of returning soon with a cup of coffee for Chase. Not that he needed it, but it gave them an excuse to get out of there.
Now that Chase had the chance to be alone with Clark, he wanted to properly thank him for all he’d done for him. Problem was, his doctors had given him something to help prevent him from that incessant coughing, which had put him righ
t to sleep. Waking him would be selfish on Chase’s part. Still, Chase pulled the chair in closer to Clark’s bed, held his hand and whispered his gratitude.
“No matter what anybody says about you, Clark Dolan, and no matter what you say about yourself, when the chips were down, you saved my life. If it wasn’t for you and Kevin, I wouldn’t be sitting here next to you. Not that there weren’t times when I’d get angry at you and your boy for saving me—like when I couldn’t walk, or when I had to go through another surgery. And even now when my arm is beginning to give me trouble again—there are times when I regret Kevin having spotted me on the side of the road. But I have to admit, meeting RuthieAnn and her son has changed my dismal thoughts, just like you did on so many other occasions. I can remember lying in one of these beds, feeling sorry for myself and you’d sneak in to make me laugh with your badass humor and your nasty comments. You got me through a ton of shit, buddy, and I’m here to get you through your shit now. Just hold onto me. We can do this thing together.”
Chase felt Clark tighten his grip as he stirred and tried to open his eyes.
“Shhh,” Chase whispered. “Go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you with all my ramblings. I needed to get it out, is all, but it’s just the ramblings of a wounded cowboy trying to make peace with his past. No need for you to take notice.”
Clark tried to say something, but his voice was barely a whisper. “…girl . . . take . . .”
“It’s okay,” Chase said. “It’s the drugs they gave you. Let’s wait until they wear off then we can have a proper conversation.”
Clark stirred again, this time squeezing Chase’s hand tighter, and opening his pale blue eyes to stare at Chase. “You . . . you take care of my girl, Chase,” Clark said in a clear solid voice. “Make sure she and her boy are okay. Kevin . . . he’s tough like his old man, but not RuthieAnn. She talks tough, but she’s a petal in the wind, just like her mama was. Any sweet-talkin’ miserable son-of-a-bitch could charm ‘em. I was one of those miserable sons-a-bitches, so I know.” He coughed, but held onto it this time, not letting it take over his ravaged body. “You’re . . . you’re a good man, Chase. Honest. True. Always have been. Your daddy raised his boys right. Your mamma did too. Promise me, Chase. Promise me that . . .” He tried to take in a deep breath, but couldn’t quite get it in. “Promise me that you’ll look after my girl.”
His voice had turned weak and shaky as tears slid down the sides of his face.
Chase leaned in closer and smiled down at the old man. His own eyes filled with tears. “You have my word, Clark. I promise.”
A flash of a smile creased Clark’s dry lips, and for a moment Chase swore he could see Clark’s soul, could see that happy young man from the picture before the ravages of time and alcohol abuse had taken their unrelenting toll.
“When the time comes, Chase,” Clark forced out, his speech getting more garbled now. “Promise that you’ll forgive my RuthieAnn.” He took in a ragged breath, then slowly let it out with a wheeze. “She was a sweet little girl . . . loved her mamma and her daddy. She loved me, Chase. Can you imagine? Me? You gotta forgive her.”
Emotion gripped Chase as he watched his friend struggle to speak—to breathe. He held Clark’s hand tight up against his chest, cradling it as if he was cradling Clark himself. “Forgive her for what?”
Clark took in another raspy breath and wheezed another out. Clark’s eyes closed again. “Promise . . . me.”
Chase gently pushed Clark’s sweaty thin gray hair off his forehead. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be forgiving RuthieAnn for. Chase couldn’t quite figure it out, but he answered Clark anyway. “I promise.”
Then Clark let out a long breath, but he didn’t take in another.
The alarm on his O 2 sat monitor screamed, but this time when Chase gazed up at the pulse monitor only a thin steady line ran across the screen.
As several nurses ran into the room, Chase slipped his hand from Clark’s grasp, leaned back in the chair and wept.
“WAIT,” RUTHIEANN said to her friend Pearl as they walked in the direction of the hospital. They’d had a quick cappuccino at MidWest Café, and then headed right back. RuthieAnn hadn’t wanted to linger for very long.
“What?” Pearl asked as they both stopped walking for a moment.
Pearl cupped her large belly. She was almost seven months pregnant, but she’d only gained baby weight. She looked amazing in her tight black sweater and skinny jeans. Pearl always knew how to dress and being pregnant hadn’t changed any of that. RuthieAnn was just thankful that they wore the same size so the outfit that Pearl had brought her to change into and out of her fancy white dress felt as comfy as an old pair of shoes.
“Do you smell that?”
Pearl took a deep breath. “Smell what? Exhaust fumes?”
The walk back took them through some fairly busy streets right outside of Flagstaff, the closest hospital to Wild Creek.
“No. It smells like my dad. It’s very strong and it’s all around us.” RuthieAnn had a bad feeling about the scent, as if her dad was standing right there with them. “Something’s wrong. We have to get back right away.”
The women took off running.
As soon as RuthieAnn approached her dad’s room, she knew he’d passed. Chase stood just outside talking to a nurse, while his doctor approached from the opposite direction.
“What happened?” RuthieAnn asked once she stood next to Chase, but she already knew the answer, had felt it out on the sidewalk.
Chase took in a deep breath, then let it out while taking her hand in his. “Clark passed,” he told her. “I’m so sorry.”
Chase folded RuthieAnn in his arms and she assumed he expected her to cry . . . but she didn’t. She didn’t even want to see her dad one last time before he was taken from the room.
Instead, for the next hour or so, she dutifully filled out paperwork, answered questions and made arrangements with the funeral home in Wild Creek to come and retrieve Clark’s body. Both Pearl and Chase stayed with her for the entire time and for the entire time, RuthieAnn didn’t shed one single tear.
And why should she? She hated her father, hated everything about him.
“Will you be okay?” Pearl asked RuthieAnn once they were all out in the parking lot.
RuthieAnn nodded, thinking why wouldn’t she be okay? Both Pearl and Chase were making far too much out of this.
“I’m fine. Really. If you’ll drive me back to the ranch, I’ll pick up Jayden and take him back to our room.”
“I already phoned my mom,” Chase told her. “Jayden’s fine. Hunter is entertaining him with the ponies.”
RuthieAnn had taken advantage of the Cooper hospitality long enough. “Thanks, but I’d like to pick up my boy and take him to our room.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at my place tonight?” Pearl asked. “I don’t think you should be alone.”
“I’m not alone,” RuthieAnn countered. “I have Jayden.”
“You know perfectly well what I mean,” Pearl said, genuine kindness staining her voice.
“Really. No. I just want to pick up Jayden.” RuthieAnn didn’t like all the sentiment that seemed to ooze from both Pearl and Chase, as if she couldn’t handle the passing of a man who wasn’t worth one tear. He’d brought her nothing but grief and she was glad the bastard had finally died—so why was there a lump in her throat?
She figured she must be coming down with a cold or maybe a sore throat, because it certainly couldn’t be any kind of emotion for the old goat.
“I’ll take you,” Chase offered in a soft voice. His eyes seemed red and a bit swollen, as if he’d been crying. But that didn’t make any sense. A tough cowboy like Chase grieving over his drinking buddy didn’t add up. Why?
Okay, maybe he’d shed a few tears, but Chase looked torn up about it. She wondered what Chase could’ve possibly seen in her dad that she couldn’t see and she’d been standing up close.
“Thanks,” Rut
hieAnn told him then she said her goodbyes to Pearl and she and Chase took off for the Cooper ranch.
RuthieAnn didn’t feel much like talking on the way back to the ranch, and instead had dozed off. When she finally opened her eyes after dreaming about trying to run away from Wild Creek, but her legs wouldn’t move, Chase had already parked his pickup. When she looked around she realized they weren’t on the ranch. “Where are we?”
“My place. I wanted a change of clothes before we drove back to the ranch. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I’ll wait here,” she said, resting her head on the back of the seat and closing her eyes once again.
“I don’t think so. You haven’t really eaten all day, and half of a burger hardly constitutes a meal. I ordered us some fried chicken with all the trimmings from Dinah’s Chicks in town. Dinah makes the best fried chicken around. You’re going to love it . . . if you like chicken. If you don’t, I ordered a salad and some of their cheesy breadsticks. Somebody should be delivering it in the next fifteen minutes or so. I thought we’d eat first, then drive over. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
She was suddenly famished.
“Actually, fried chicken sounds good. We’ll eat then you’ll take me back to your place, right?”
“Absolutely.”
He slid out of the truck, went around and opened her door. She stepped out. “I just need to see my boy. I think this is the longest I’ve ever gone without him. I’m getting anxious.”
