The Rancher's Request
Page 16
“Married! A baby!” he muttered with disbelief. “Dad, take a look at me! I’m nearly forty years old. It’s too late for me to be starting over again.”
This time Matt’s response made Mingo so angry, he motioned for him to leave the room.
Matt said sharply, “All right. I’m going. But first we have to talk about these tests you’re going to take next week.” Walking over to his father, he looked down at him. “Do you still want to go through the long trip to Houston and then have all those doctors and nurses poking and prodding you?”
His lips clamped in a crooked line, Mingo nodded.
“And what if the tests say there’s nothing the doctors can do? I don’t want you to slip into a depression. And if they do decide to try an operation, it could be dangerous. Really dangerous,” Matt couldn’t help but warn. The thought of losing his father was too frightful to bear.
Mingo’s dark eyes searched his son’s face keenly before he once again wrote on the paper. Look at me.
Matt did as his father ordered and the sight very nearly broke his heart. One leg was useless and one arm so weak it was close to being worthless. He couldn’t talk or even eat the foods he wanted to eat. This was not the way his strong, vibrant father wanted to live and Matt couldn’t expect him to simply sit there and play things safe.
With a lump in his throat, Matt squeezed his father’s shoulders. “I know, Dad. I don’t want you like this, either. But I’m selfish. And I don’t want to lose you.”
With a vague smile, Mingo patted his hand, then wrote one last word. Faith.
Yeah, how many times had Matt told himself to have faith, only to have his world torn asunder, he wondered. If faith was ever going to bring him a happy ending, it was sure slow in coming.
A few minutes later, after Matt left the nursing home in his truck, he decided to drive by the newspaper building and see if Juliet was still there at work.
For the past three days he’d been trying to find a moment to call her, but one thing after another had popped up on the ranch and he’d fallen into bed late each night. This evening he was determined to see her and talk with her, even if it meant driving to her house.
Ever since he’d learned that he would be taking his father to Houston next week, he’d dallied with the idea of inviting Juliet to go with him. He had no idea if she could be away from her work for that long, but he was hoping she could manage it somehow. He needed her company and her support and he wasn’t going to be bashful about telling her so.
The parking spaces allotted for the newspaper workers were located in an alley behind the back of a row of buildings. Juliet’s small car was parked there among several other vehicles, so he was safe in assuming she was still working.
He found a space to park, then entered a single back door of the newspaper office. The scent of ink and chemicals met his nose as he walked into what appeared to be a large room where the printing presses were located.
A young man loading bundles of flyers onto a crate happened to look around and spot him. Matt waited for the young man to approach him.
“Looking for someone?” he asked.
Matt nodded. “Sorry I came in the back,” he apologized. “I’m looking for Juliet Madsen. Can I get to her office from here?”
The young man nodded. “Sure. Follow me and I’ll show you.”
After a few twists and turns through double doors and down several corridors, the man gestured to an open door with Juliet’s name plaque hanging on it.
“This is Ms. Madsen’s office. Looks like she’s not in at the moment, but she will be. Just have a seat and wait.”
Trusting boy, Matt thought wryly, as he stepped into the small room and took a seat in a chair near Juliet’s desk.
After making himself comfortable, Matt looked curiously around the space where Juliet worked. It was cluttered with an assortment of things, including boxes of files and papers lining the edges of the walls. More papers, along with an array of pens, highlighters, a large atlas and legal pads were piled upon her L-shaped desk. A foam cup, half-full of coffee was sitting near a mouse pad. Since it lacked any steam, Matt figured the drink had long ago grown cold. In an opposite corner from where he was sitting, high upon a shelf, a tiny radio was tuned in to a station that played standards. At the moment a man was singing about walking on the street where his lover lived and how just being near her transformed his world into a magical place.
The lyrics could have been describing him, Matt decided. Just having Juliet in his life had changed his very way of thinking. The sun was brighter and hotter, the sky bluer and good food even better. That blissful notion had him suddenly thinking about his father’s serious suggestion about Matt marrying Juliet and having a child. And for the first time since Erica had died, Matt wondered if he really could start over. Would Juliet want to marry him? Have children with him?
The questions were not something he’d ever thought he’d want to contemplate. But now they filled him with excitement, an eagerness for the future that he’d lost so long ago.
Restless now for Juliet to appear, he rose from the chair and began to move impatiently around the room. After a moment, he paused at a large map of the Republic of Texas hanging on one wall and studied the geography. Eventually, he grew bored with that and drifted back toward her desk.
It was then Matt noticed the papers stacked at the far end of the desk and a measurable distance from her computer screen. The papers were photocopies of old newspapers from the past and one of the headlines glared up at him. Murder on the Sandbur.
Wondering how he could have missed seeing the paper when he’d first entered the office, he snatched it up and quickly scanned the information from a 1962 edition of the Fannin Review. The article was the first of many that had been written about his grandfather’s untimely death.
Matt didn’t bother reading the piece. Instead, he began to flip through the other photocopies and as he did, his heart began to sink right down to his feet. All of the papers were pertaining to his grandparents, Nate and Sara Ketchum. Which could only mean one thing. Juliet was researching his family’s history with the intentions of writing a story, the story that she’d been planning from that very first appearance she’d made at Raine’s wedding.
How could he have been so stupid, so gullible? He’d believed her when she’d assured him she would never do anything to hurt his family. What did she think this was going to do, make them all happy?
Gritting his teeth, he started to slam the papers back down on the desk, but the sound of a footstep caused him to pause and look up.
Juliet rounded the doorway, then stopped in her tracks when she spotted Matt standing near her desk. His face was pale and rigid and the papers he gripped between both fists clearly explained the reason for his strained expression.
With a sick feeling swimming in her stomach, she stepped forward. “Hello, Matt. I didn’t know you were here, someone should have paged me.”
His lips twisted to a sneer. “So you could have hidden these from my sight?” He shook the papers at her. “Why are these stories about my grandparents on your desk, Juliet? Can you tell me something—anything that will make me believe you haven’t been lying to me?”
The stricken look on his face made her want to drop her face in her hands and weep, but that would do nothing to help the situation, so she straightened her shoulders and walked over to him.
“I haven’t been lying to you, Matt. I told you that I would never write anything salacious or misleading about your family. And I’m not. That—” she pointed to the papers still clutched in his fists “—is only research.”
Anger suddenly burned in his eyes and he tossed the photocopies toward the desk. Some of them landed. Others simply floated to the floor. Matt ignored them and so did she.
“Why, Juliet? Why would you do such a thing? Is getting a story all you’ve ever cared about? Am I supposed to believe that you haven’t been insinuating yourself into my family just for this?”
Moving closer, she jabbed her finger in the middle of his chest. “I haven’t been insinuating myself into any part of your family! I was invited, remember?”
“God help me, I wish I could forget!” he shot back at her.
“Matt, you’re jumping to conclusions. The wrong conclusions. If you’ll let me explain—”
“Explain what?” he interrupted sharply. “That you weren’t planning on writing a story about my grandparents?”
Shaking her head, she dropped her finger from his chest and wiped a shaky hand through her tousled hair. “No. I’m not going to tell you that. I’m going to tell you that Gilbert is still demanding that I do this story.”
His eyes widened with such a look of fury that Juliet feared he was going to run out of the office and go after the man with his bare hands.
“Then tell him to go to hell!” he yelled.
Figuring every office down the hall could hear the two of them quarreling, Juliet hurried to shut the door before she faced him again.
“I can’t do that, Matt,” she said calmly. “This is my job. Writing stories is what I do. I didn’t claw my way through college just to quit when I run up against a stubborn editor.”
“Not even for me?”
The simple question stabbed her deeply and for a moment she wanted to give in, to tell him that she’d do exactly what he wanted. She’d tell Gilbert she was leaving. But in the end she understood that quitting or running wouldn’t fix things. Eventually she would resent the fact that Matt wouldn’t or couldn’t trust her to do the right thing. Moreover, Gilbert would simply find someone else to do the story and the next person might not be as kind toward the Sandbur families as she would be.
“Matt,” she said gently, “I would give up this job in a minute if I thought it would fix all this between us. But it won’t.”
His face like stone, he shook his head. “Seven years I’ve done without a woman and now you’ve come along and made a fool out of me. I thought—you cared, Juliet.”
Her heart was drowning in tears as she reached out and touched a hand to his chest. “I do care, Matt. More than you know. I love you. I love you and Gracia.”
His head actually reared back on her last words and when he finally spoke, his voice was dripping with scorn. “Do you honestly think I’d believe something like that now?”
Not waiting for her answer, he started toward the door. Juliet followed and snared a hold on his arm before he could twist the knob.
“Matt, running out isn’t going to help.” She tried to reason with him. “And for your information I tried to talk to you about this matter before. The other morning before you left my house, I told you I wanted to discuss something with you. Well, this is it. So you see, I wasn’t going to do anything behind your back.”
His eyes looked right through her as though she were the floor and he wanted to simply step over her.
“It doesn’t make any difference if you were going to tell me about this then or now. You’ve made your choice and it wasn’t me.”
He reached to open the door and she stubbornly tugged on his arm again. This time when he looked at her she was angry and barely able to control her tears.
Her voice low and shaky, she said, “I believed you cared about me, Matt. I thought you cared enough to trust me—about this—about everything. But you didn’t. All I’ve been to you is a bed partner.”
His jaw tight, he turned away from the door to stare accusingly at her. “I came by here this evening to invite you to go to Houston with me and my father. He’s going into the hospital for several tests and I wanted you to be there with me—with us. Now I’m glad I didn’t mention my intentions to him. I’ll wait until he’s through all this before I burst his bubble about you.”
Jerking open the door, Matt left the office before Juliet could say anything. But even if he hadn’t stormed out, she doubted she could have made any sort of reply. She felt crushed and so sick it was all she could do to make it over to her desk chair and drop her head in her hands.
A week and a half later, Matt was sitting in a Houston hospital cafeteria, trying his best to eat a sandwich, but finding it impossible to swallow more than half of the cold tuna.
He’d been here with his father for four long days. The isolation from the ranch, along with anxiety over Mingo’s tests was getting to him. Not to mention the devastation he felt every time he thought of Juliet. And that was at least twenty-three hours of every day.
Dear God, he was an utter mess. He couldn’t eat, think or sleep. He’d been moving through each day in a fog of misery. He functioned, but only out of necessity. And he was beginning to wonder if he’d ever be normal again.
Before he’d left the Sandbur for the trip here to Houston, Juliet had called and pleaded with him to see her so that they could try to talk things out between them. Just hearing her voice over the telephone had cracked his heart all over again. He’d told her he never wanted to see her again and hung up the phone. Since then he’d had no more contact with her and that was just the way he wanted it.
The woman had duped him, defied him and made a fool of him. So why was he still aching for her?
“Excuse me, Mr. Sanchez, I hate to interrupt your meal, but would you mind if I joined you?”
The male voice interrupted Matt’s black thoughts and he looked up to see Mingo’s doctor standing at the edge of the small round table. The sight of the neurosurgeon sent a shaft of fear through Matt’s already troubled heart. He’d already lost so many of the people he loved. How could he bear to lose another?
Matt gestured toward the chair opposite him. “Please do. Is anything wrong?”
The young doctor gave him a brief smile. “No. Not exactly. I just came from your father’s room and I wanted to discuss with you what the two of us talked about. Mr. Sanchez told me you were down here eating so I took the chance that I’d find you.”
Matt released a pent-up breath. “I’m glad. You can probably guess that I’ve been on pins and needles, wondering about the results of Dad’s tests. Do you have them now?”
The doctor nodded. “I do. And I’ve conferred with three other doctors here on staff. They all agree with me that your father’s condition might be reversed with surgery.”
Matt’s jaw dropped with surprise. This was the last thing he’d expected to hear and he suddenly realized how negatively he’d viewed his father’s future. “Reversed? You mean my father might be well again—like his old self?”
Folding his arms across his chest, the doctor studied Matt carefully. “That’s what I’m saying. Of course he would need a lot of rehabilitation after the surgery to get to that point. But I think it’s possible. And your father is willing to work.”
Matt darted an anxious look at the man. “I hear a but in there somewhere. What haven’t you told me?”
“The surgery would be risky. If things didn’t go right, his condition could worsen or he could even die. If you’d like to come to my office, I can show you the brain scans and explain it to you better in medical terms.”
Shaking his head, Matt said, “There’s no need for that, doctor. All that matters is what my father wants.”
“He wants the surgery. He wants the chance to be a whole man again. As soon as possible. So I’ve scheduled the surgery for the morning. If there are other family members who want to be here, you ought to contact them today.”
Matt nodded numbly and the doctor went on to explain a bit more about the surgery before he finally rose and left the table with an encouraging word.
Once the neurosurgeon was gone, Matt swallowed down the last of his soda and hurried to his father’s room.
The moment Matt rounded the door and Mingo spotted his son, the older man’s fa
ce split into a wide smile and with his most flexible hand, he motioned for Matt to come to the bedside.
“I just saw the doctor, Dad. He’s told me about the surgery.” His throat tight, he reached over and rubbed a hand over Mingo’s curly hair. “Guess you’re all excited about it.”
A smile still creasing his face, Mingo nodded, then tapped a finger to the scar on his head before he finally made an okay sign with his thumb and forefinger.
Matt did his best to smile back at his father. “Yeah, Dad, I know you’ve always told me you were going to get well. I guess I should have listened to you.” The smile fell from his face as he reached for his father’s hand and gripped it tightly. “I know you want this chance, Dad. And I guess I want it for you. But what the hell am I going to do if something happens to you?”
With a serene expression, Mingo tapped his wedding band, then pointed toward the blue sky beyond the window. Matt didn’t have to ask more. It was obvious his father would be just as happy to meet up with his wife in heaven. To Mingo, this was a win-win situation.
“Yes, Mother’s out there waiting for you. But she doesn’t mind waiting, cause she knows how much we all need you. Especially Gracia. She’s been calling twice a day, wanting to know when you’re coming home. She’s always believed that you’re going to walk and talk again. Guess you’re going to prove your granddaughter right,” Matt added soberly.
With another big smile, Mingo nodded, then his expression changed to one of concern as he studied Matt’s glum face. Finally, he pointed to his son’s empty ring finger and raised his brows in question.
Matt heaved out a heavy sigh. “I don’t want to talk about that, Dad. Juliet and I—well, I’m not seeing her anymore.”
Why? The question was shouting from Mingo’s eyes.
Matt dropped his father’s hand and turned away from the bed. “We—uh, had an argument,” he muttered. “I found out she was going to do something that I didn’t want her to do.”