Cowboy Crazy

Home > Other > Cowboy Crazy > Page 23
Cowboy Crazy Page 23

by Joanne Kennedy


  “Momma?”

  “Momma’s going on a ride in the big truck,” Sarah said. “We’ll go meet her, okay?”

  “Momma!” It wasn’t a question now, it was a demand. “Want Momma!”

  “Honey, we’re going to get her, okay? Just hang on.” Sarah tried to shove the buckle closed, but Katie struggled and set up a wail. “Hurting me, Aunt Sarah! Hurting meeee!”

  Sarah felt the hot pressure of tears behind her eyes. Tucking her hands under her niece’s armpits she hoisted her a little higher in the seat and slid the buckle home. She muttered some comforting nonsense Katie usually loved, but the child screwed up her face and let out a wail that rose in deafening concert with the ambulance siren as the vehicle pulled away from the curb.

  “Mommaaaaaaaa!” She flapped her arms like a helpless baby bird. “Aunt Sarah is hurting meeeee!”

  Sarah unhooked the buckles and sat back, feeling as helpless as a three-year-old herself. There was no other way the buckle could go, was there? She bent down and picked up her niece, cradling the child against her chest. Katie calmed almost immediately, lapsing into heartbroken hiccups.

  Sarah bounced the child gently. This she could handle, but how the hell was she going to get to the hospital?

  “Here.” Lane had scooted into the backseat and was holding the straps on either side of the car seat apart. “Put her in. I’ll help.”

  Katie held out her arms to Lane, grunting in protest when Sarah tightened her grip.

  “Ride,” she said. “Want ride.”

  “Oh, fine.” Sarah set her in the seat and watched in wonder as Lane slid buckles and tightened belts like a pro. Katie smiled at him the whole time.

  “Like tacking up a horse,” he said, grinning up at Sarah. “Nothing to it.”

  Chapter 32

  Katie banged her chubby legs against the seat, flailing her arms as Lane piloted the Camry through the wide, banked curve of the highway entrance. Trapped by the car seat, she looked like a baby bird trying to fly.

  “There’s nothing closer than Casper?” he asked.

  “No.” Sarah gripped the shoulder harness with one hand, the door handle with the other. “When Katie got a fever last month, Kelsey had to drive her all the way to town. It takes almost an hour.”

  “Forty-two minutes.” Lane accelerated onto the highway and they all rocked back in their seats. Katie made a happy gurgling sound.

  “Kid’s got the need for speed,” he said.

  “So do we.” Sarah clenched her hands in her lap.

  “We’ll get there.” He reached over and patted her thigh, but she was too preoccupied with Kelsey to feel more than a faint spasm of lust from his touch. “At least we haven’t caught up to the ambulance yet. I’m kind of surprised. That thing’s an antique.”

  “It’ll be a miracle if it doesn’t break down before it gets to the hospital. When I was a kid they could barely keep it running. I can’t believe it’s still going, but when it’s all you’ve got…” She grimaced, spreading her hands hopelessly.

  “Can’t they get a grant or something?”

  “Lane, you’ve seen Two Shot. It’s not exactly prosperous.” She clenched her hands tighter. “You think it’s quaint and old-fashioned, but this isn’t a Norman Rockwell painting. It’s real life. Keeping it from changing isn’t doing the people who live there any favors.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “If you approved the drilling we might eventually be able to attract a doctor or something. Kelsey says there’s nothing right now. There was an older lady in town who was a retired nurse, but she passed last year.”

  “What about tourism? I’m not the only person who likes small towns.”

  “There are no hotels. No events, except the Humboldt Rodeo. We’re not really on the way anywhere, unless you’re a trucker headed for Lincoln, and trust me, those guys can’t even spare the money for a two-dollar tip.”

  “But you’ve seen Midwest. They ruined it. It’s like a slum without a city.”

  “It might not look pretty, but they got a health clinic out of the deal. And old people dying for lack of a doctor really spoils the picture, you know?”

  He was silent.

  “It’s not a toy town, Lane. It’s real people with real lives.”

  She thought of Kelsey, lying in the ambulance, maybe conscious, maybe not, and suddenly the inside of the car felt close and hot. She couldn’t catch her breath and tears glossed her eyes so the world looked like an impressionist painting. Lane patted her thigh again but this time he left his hand there. It was tempting to let it lie, but then she thought of Kelsey bouncing her way south while people like Lane clung to their pretty views and quaint towns and she shook him off. When she leaned her forehead against the window the cool glass felt like a wet washcloth and she managed to blink away some of the tears.

  “Open your window a little,” Lane said. “You look like you’re going to faint.”

  She hated to follow orders, but she opened the window a crack and sucked in air.

  “You lost somebody, didn’t you? To this… this problem.” His tone was gentle and she felt the heat of tears behind her eyes. Again. Dang, she was turning into such a girl.

  “My stepfather. He was in an accident, and he…” She had to swallow down the ache in her throat to keep going. “He didn’t make it to the hospital.” She gestured at the road ahead, though the ambulance was still nowhere in sight. “Did you see those two guys? Do you think they could help somebody with a skull fracture? No. And now Kelsey…”

  She rocked her head back and forth against the glass, closing her eyes. “Just get us there, Lane. Just get us there.”

  ***

  Sarah didn’t say another word until Lane pulled into the ambulance lane and stopped at the hospital’s glass back doors.

  “I’ll bring Katie in,” he said.

  She started to object, but heck, she trusted him. And Katie had looked at him like he was Barney the Dinosaur or something. The kid was probably starved for male attention. She’d spent a few days with her father now, but a drop of rain couldn’t make up for a yearlong drought.

  Sarah stepped out of the car and slammed the door. “See you in there.”

  She headed inside at a fast walk and almost slammed into the automatic door as it slowly slid open. Glancing around the tiny waiting room, she spotted Mike slouched sideways in a chair against the wall. He was gazing wearily up at a large-screen TV where Nancy Grace was railing about some new travesty of injustice—with the sound off, thank God. Mike had one leg over the arm of the chair and looked like a cowboy waiting to ride.

  He straightened when he saw her. “Where’s Katie?”

  “Lane’ll bring her in.”

  He looked like he had a few questions about that, but she shot him a glare. “How come you’re out here? Where’s Kelsey?”

  “They wouldn’t let me back there. Said they’d call me when they finished her tests.”

  “Was she conscious?”

  “Oh, yeah. The whole way here. She was talking and everything. Her head’s still hurting, but the pain was letting up.” He looked sheepish. “I tried to call you, but your cell was off or something.”

  She jerked the phone out of her purse and stared at the screen. He was right. It was off.

  “Dang,” she said.

  He grinned.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Haven’t heard you talk like that in years,” he said.

  She was grateful for the interruption when Lane came through the door, carrying a sleepy Katie in one arm.

  “Daddy!” The kid held out her arms and leaned toward her father, spilling from Lane’s arms into Mike’s. Sarah did her best to ignore the knifepoint of jealousy as it drove deeper and twisted.

  “Where’s Momma?” Katie asked, leaning back to look up at her father’s face.

  “She’s at the doctor,” he said. “We have to wait.”

  Katie nodded sagely. “Does she need a shot?”r />
  At least one person in the family got regular medical care. Sarah had taken Kelsey and Katie to Casper for pediatrician appointments several times, worried that Kelsey’s rattletrap car would leave them stranded on the highway.

  “No shot,” he said. “But she might take a while. You want to play over there? Look at the train.”

  He pointed toward a play area with a brightly painted wooden locomotive and an assortment of toys and books. Katie stared a moment, her little jaw dropping, then nodded with outsized enthusiasm and struggled in his arms. He released her and she toddled over to the train, climbing onto the seat and gripping a spinning steering wheel with her chubby fists. Sarah started out of her seat, but Mike gestured for her to stay.

  “She’ll be okay,” he said. “Kelsey likes her to play by herself sometimes. So she’s not so needy.”

  Sarah nodded, feeling left out yet again. Normally she was privy to all Kelsey’s latest childcare techniques, but now Mike was her partner in raising Katie. That was how it should be, but how long would Mike stay? And if he walked, what would it do to Katie?

  “You can depend on me this time,” he said, as if he’d read her thoughts. “I won’t leave again.”

  Lane mumbled something about coffee and lurched out of his chair, leaving Sarah alone with the last person she wanted to talk to.

  “I know I was an asshole,” Mike said.

  At least we agree on something.

  “I was a kid,” he said. “Just a dumb kid.”

  Two things.

  “I never should’ve tried to get married, but I loved Kelsey, you know? I knew she was the one for me, and she wanted to, so…” He spread his hands helplessly. “I can tell you I never looked at another woman. That wasn’t what it was about, okay?”

  Sarah nodded.

  “I just felt like nothing was ever going to change, you know? Like I was locked into this same thing, night after night. It’s hard having a kid.”

  “You might have thought of that when…”

  “I know.” He rolled right over her as if he knew what she was going to say. He probably did. His screwups were pretty easy to figure out, even for a dumb rodeo cowboy. “But after the store closed, I couldn’t find a job, and I was just—I was useless.”

  Three things.

  “I tried the rodeo ’cause it was all there was, you know? And I thought I’d be better at it. Turned out I sucked.”

  Sarah was losing count of all the things they agreed on. Was that four or five?

  “So we got the divorce, and I was paying best I could, and then I got the job at Carrigan and I thought she’d be pleased, you know? And then she wouldn’t even talk to me. I was up there in the boonies, couldn’t go see her no matter how bad I wanted, and it was like she was gone, her and Katie just gone, and I’d lost my chance. I blew it. Just blew the best thing I ever had.”

  Sarah nodded. Mike’s eyes were suspiciously shiny. He’d never seemed like a very sensitive guy—he was always laughing, always joshing with the boys, but now he seemed different. Maybe he was growing up.

  It was about time. In fact, it was damn near too late.

  “But Kelsey gave me another chance,” he said. “She forgave me. Can you believe that?” He set his elbows on his knees and ducked his head down, hiding his face while he got himself under control. Finally, he looked up. “She loves me no matter what. She waited, and she never gave up on me.”

  “I know.” Sarah’s heart ached for her sister. She’d blamed Mike for all her problems, but maybe it was Sarah who’d stressed her beyond what she could take.

  “When I came back, I was so scared she’d throw me out, but she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. ’Cause when Kelsey loves you, she loves you all the way.” He ducked his head again. “I gotta go.” He stood and patted his pockets, blinking fast. “I quit smoking, but I think I’ll go stand outside anyway, okay?”

  Sarah nodded and tried to smile, but her lips wouldn’t cooperate. Thankfully, Katie chose that moment to shout out, “Aunt Sarah. Watch me!”

  Sarah found she could smile for Katie, and she watched the little girl slide down from the seat of the train, run around the back of it, and climb back into the seat from the opposite side.

  “Watch me again!” The child repeated the whole process, then slid from the seat and ran to Sarah, throwing herself into her arms with the abandon and trust only a three-year-old can have. “Did you see me? Did you see?”

  “I did, honey. That was great.” She hugged Katie and gave her a loud, exaggerated kiss. Katie giggled, squirming to the floor. She started toward the train, then paused, one finger in her mouth.

  “Where did Daddy go?”

  “Outside. He’ll be right back.”

  “Oh. That’s okay.” Katie flailed one hand in a gesture Kelsey called her princess wave. She did look for all the world like a ruler granting sufferance to one of her many subjects, and that wasn’t too far from the truth. She sure ruled Sarah’s heart. “I love him anyway.”

  “That’s good.” Sarah almost meant it. A kid needed a father. Nobody knew that better than her. Roy had been everything to her, filling a hole in her life she hadn’t even known existed until he came home with her mother one night and stayed. She’d never known her own father, but she’d felt the lack of one. Roy had taken that emptiness away, and then he’d gone again. She’d never wish that kind of loss on Katie.

  “I love you, Aunt Sarah,” Katie said.

  “I love you too, hon.” She remembered what Mike had said about Kelsey. “I love you all the way.”

  She looked up to see Lane striding into the room, juggling two Styrofoam coffee cups and a handful of sugar packets and one-shot creamers.

  “All the way?” He lifted his eyebrows in a teasing question. “I didn’t think you were that kind of girl.”

  “I’m not.” She gave him a wry half smile. “I need to work on it.”

  Chapter 33

  They didn’t leave the hospital until well after midnight. Kelsey and Mike fell asleep in the backseat, snuggled together beside Katie’s car seat. They’d been holding hands, Kelsey’s head resting on Mike’s shoulder. It had actually made Sarah smile. Maybe her heart was thawing a little where Mike was concerned.

  She and Lane made small talk on the way back to the ranch, mostly about Kelsey. Sarah filled him in on what the doctor had said. It wasn’t a stroke, just an especially severe migraine that had tightened up some capillaries. The doctor gave her migraine medication, much to Sarah’s satisfaction, and ordered her to take it. Lane actually seemed to care, which would have warmed her heart if she’d been able to forget about the horse. How had he ended up with Flash’s colt? Had he been the buyer, the person who put the last nail in the coffin of her family’s ruined life? She counted surreptitiously on her fingers. He was six years older than her, so that would have made him twenty-one when it all happened.

  It could easily have been him.

  He pulled the Malibu to a stop outside the Love Nest. She opened her door, then closed it again. She’d never been so emotionally exhausted, but there was no way she could sleep until she found out if Lane had bought Flash.

  She didn’t know what she’d do with the information. She knew the buyer shouldn’t bear the blame for the loss of the ranch. But all her life, she’d nursed a burning resentment toward the person who had profited from her family’s misfortune.

  She turned toward him, bending one leg and tucking it beneath her. There was no moon tonight, so she could barely see his face.

  “It was you, wasn’t it?” she asked. “That bought Flash.”

  “Yes.”

  “You stole him. You know that, right?”

  “I put up my hand. It’s not my fault nobody else did. I would have paid more if anyone else had bid.” He reached over and stroked her arm. “What happened to your family wasn’t my fault.”

  She knew he was right. But blaming the shadowy buyer had always been easier than blaming herself. It had been up to her to help
the family recover from the perfect storm of disaster that had struck them when they least expected it. And she had failed.

  “If nobody had bid, I could have gotten him back,” she said, as much to herself as to him. “I could have worked with him more, settled him down, taken him to the rodeo a few times. We could have gotten triple that price for him. I just needed a little time to get over things.”

  “Do you really think anyone would have let you do that?” he asked. “You were a kid, Sarah. From what I heard, they wouldn’t even let anyone open the trailer.”

  “They,” she said bitterly. “There was no they. It was my mother that locked him in there.”

  “Look, Sarah, I’m sorry. I didn’t know anything about all this when I bought the horse.”

  “Just like you didn’t know Two Shot didn’t have a doctor,” she mumbled.

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Everything,” she said. “It’s how you operate. You say you like the dust and dirt, but you don’t know what it’s really like. So you just ignore the reality and tell yourself you’re one of us just because you can ride a horse and get some dirt under your nails once in a while.”

  “No,” he said. “That’s not how it is.”

  “Then how is it? You didn’t think about the fact that someone was depending on the sale, just like it never occurred to you that people in Two Shot had to drive an hour for medical care.”

  “Forty-two minutes,” he said. “I’m sorry, Sarah.”

  “Sorry won’t bring back Roy,” she said. “He died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. They didn’t know what to do for him. Sorry won’t bring back the ranch, either. The bank took it when we couldn’t pay the mortgage. And it won’t bring back my mother, who drank herself to death and left me and my sister alone, in that damn gossip-ridden town, with everyone pointing their fingers and judging us.” She sniffed. “And it won’t get me back my horse. Dammit, I loved him, Lane. I was the only one who could ride him, you know that? And he raced for me. He went all out, just for me.”

  To her horror, she realized she was crying, tears streaming down her face.

 

‹ Prev