by Laura Drake
Char traveled from the memory to Jimmy’s assessing gaze. Was he remembering their wedding? She flushed and shifted her focus to the droning priest. If she’d have known then how it would all turn out, would she do it again? The answer came to her, immediate and true. Even the pain that had almost taken her under couldn’t eclipse the joy she’d found in being a mother. And in being Jimmy’s wife. After all, that had been more than enough, before Benje. Surprise blossomed in her mind. Blissfully ignorant of any other possibility, she’d taken his love for granted.
Watching him from beneath lowered lashes, the empty spot in her chest reminded her of what she’d forgotten, that she’d mourned more than the loss of her son this past year.
Russ slipped the rings on Bella’s finger, where they belonged.
“I now pronounce you man and wife.” The end came so quickly, none of them moved, until the priest closed his Bible and said with a smug smile, “You can kiss your bride now, Russ.”
Russ’s large hands encircled Bella’s upper arms gently, as if she’d break under them. He leaned over and touched his lips to hers. A simple kiss, but one made precious by the identical tear that ran down both their cheeks.
Russ straightened. “Whew. I thought up till the last, she’d leave me at the altar this time.” The solemn moment was shattered by laughter.
A few hours and a few celebratory glasses of champagne later, Char read the hungry gazes of the newlyweds and rubbed her ear. Jimmy caught their old time-to-leave signal and, quicker than she’d have thought possible, they were walking for the truck. “Do you think they were in a hurry to get rid of us?” Char eyed the uneven sidewalk she could barely see in the dark beyond the porch light.
Jimmy took her elbow, his deep chuckle coming from behind her shoulder. “I’m not surprised. You and I were halfway to the car when your mom chased us down to remind us we hadn’t cut the cake.”
Oh! He’d been remembering too.
She tried to divert his attention to business on the drive home, but this time it didn’t take. Conversation trailed off. Instead of the void she feared, an almost-forgotten comforting silence fell. They’d always had that from the beginning—an invisible bubble had surrounded her and Jimmy, keeping them separate from others. They’d never needed to fill the empty space with words. She sighed. Next to Benje, she missed this most of all. Her muscles relaxed into the familiar comfort of belonging.
When they reached the town limits, Jimmy asked, “We’re all dressed up, and it’s early yet. Would you come out to dinner with me, Charla?” His hard profile shone pale in the dash lights.
“I’d like to, Jimmy, but Junior’s waiting for my call to bring Daddy home. He gets worse after dark, and I don’t want to put that on Junior.”
His hand relaxed on the wheel. “But you would like to?”
Would she? The butterflies nesting in her stomach certainly had an opinion—they awoke from their champagne stupor to careen against her rib cage. She enjoyed spending time with Jimmy today. Maybe too much.
It wouldn’t be so easy to sidestep him anymore. She and Jimmy were full partners in the business now. Time for the truth. As much as she knew of it, anyway. She turned to him.
“I’m glad we’re not at war anymore, Jimmy. I’m even looking forward to being partners in the business. But I’m not sure I’m strong enough to handle what you’re really asking here.”
A sliver of regret slipped out with her words. Would she ever be? Where would she find the guts to put herself again in the hands of any man? Much less this one.
“For now, can we focus on getting used to being friends again, Jimmy?” Surely if she could get used to riding a horse and hanging with smelly cows, she could learn to relax around a guy she’d lived with for twenty years.
She’d seen tonight how easy it would be to fall into old, comfortable places.
Was it Jimmy she was really afraid of?
Or was it herself, afraid of falling for him again?
CHAPTER
25
I cannot say whether things will get better if we change; what I can say is they must change if they are to get better.
—Georg C. Lichtenberg
JB crossed his arms over the saddle horn and watched Char work cattle. She sat on the horse as if she were a part of it. Relaxed, but alert, she urged the momma cows and their babies to the gate. From halfway across the pasture, he recognized Tricks’s distinctive black-and-white hide as she shot out of the pack, the splash-spotted calf at her heels.
With a burst of speed, Char and Pork Chop overtook the pair and turned them back to the herd, but the cow had other ideas. Tricks cut one way, the calf the other, eating ground faster than any nursing cow he’d ever seen.
Pork Chop spun on her hindquarters and leapt into action. Char leaned over the horse’s neck, telegraphing direction changes with subtle shifts of her weight as they tore across the meadow. It was a valiant effort, but the lumbering cow was no match. Pork Chop came alongside and Char neck-reined her into the cow’s side, turning her back to the herd. Defeated, her decoy calf trotted back to his momma.
Cattle bunched once more, Char sat back in the saddle. Back straight, one hand loose on the reins, she tipped her hat lower over her eyes and urged her horse forward. Point made, Tricks led the herd through the gate with one last bawl and a swish of her tail.
JB enjoyed the view of nicely formed, Wrangler-clad buns, as Char leaned down to close the gate. She wheeled the horse toward home but pulled up when she saw him in her path. His chest swelled, forcing him upright in his saddle.
He felt proud to have had the love of this fine woman all those years. By tonight, he’d find out if he’d be lucky enough to have the same with the time he had left. Fear-laced anticipation crackled under his skin. Sensing it, his horse threw its head up. JB checked the rangy gelding as he fought the bit, dancing in place.
Char sat watching him, shoulder-length blond hair stirring with the wind. How had he ever deluded himself that he could find another woman worth even half this one? He should’ve known the hole in his heart couldn’t be filled by a bit of fluff.
Char nudged the small palomino to a trot. Details sharpened as she neared. She still had the waist of a young girl, but the years had subtly transformed her face, giving depth to the brash prettiness of her youth. Rod straight and chin high, she rode to him, her challenging gaze daring him to comment.
He coughed. “I see that danged cow is still hard to handle. If she’s that big a hassle, once that calf is weaned, we can sell her.”
Char fell in next to him and they turned for home. “And lose those bloodlines? Are you crazy?”
“We can harvest her eggs and use a surrogate cow—one that stays on the right side of the fence.”
“Nah. Tricks is okay. She’s just smarter than most cows, so she spends her time thinking up ways to bedevil me. It’s a game we play.”
He’d planned a day of truths, so he might as well get started. “Do you realize how much you’ve changed, Charla? I’m not talking about getting used to the horses and cows either.” He kept his eyes trained on the horizon, as if the right words would be written there. It was always hard for him to speak the soft stuff, and he didn’t want her thinking this was a snow job. “Before, you sat waiting for life to happen. Now you’re riding out to meet it.” He glanced over and read reticence in her narrowed eyes.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, he asked the question that held his future. “Charla, would you come with me? I have something to show you.”
“Where?” She threw her head up like a spooked horse. “I’ve got to pick Daddy up at the feed store.”
“It isn’t far, and we won’t be gone long.” He watched emotion flash across her face, seeing precisely when she decided to say no. “Please, Char. I know you have no reason to trust me. You don’t owe me, but I’m asking you anyway. I’d be beholden to you.”
He held his breath, watching the war he planned to win being waged in her expression.
“All right, Jimmy.”
The air left his lungs in a whoosh. He still had a chance.
She sat with one arm out the window. Jimmy drove the back roads, taking the curves wide and slow. Pulling the scent of old leaves and decaying tree bark into her lungs, she enjoyed the blend of gold and russet in the trees overhanging the road. Autumn had always been her favorite time of year. A time to snuggle in at home and prepare for winter. This time last year had been winter. The haunting smell of sour sheets and the spookiness of a blackout-curtained bedroom brushed the edges of her mind like a barely remembered nightmare. She pushed the darkness out with her exhale and drew the light, clean air of the present into her lungs.
Jimmy slowed, turning left at an opening in the trees, the two-wheeled track barely discernible amid the wild oats. She jerked upright. “Oh no, Jimmy.”
His warm hand covered her fist on the seat between them. “Trust me, Little Bit, just a while longer. I have something to show you.”
The old fire road dead-ended at the Pedernales River. They’d lost their virginity here, back in the dark ages. She freed her hand from under his. Jimmy pulled within a few feet of the drop-off and shut down the engine. Right under that tree…
Jimmy came around the truck, opened her door, and handed her down. When he closed the door behind her, she put her fists against the truck at her back and leaned against them. “I don’t see the point in digging through ancient history, Jimmy.”
He stood, hand out, letting her decide. After a few seconds, she shrugged and put her hand in his. Jimmy wouldn’t take anything she didn’t offer. The manic butterflies fought to get out of her stomach as they walked to The Tree, as she’d known he would. Instead of stopping, he led her to the opposite side.
“I knew that day we’d marry. That I’d never love anyone like I loved you.”
She couldn’t help it. She rolled her eyes. “Jimmy, it’s a little late for romantic fairy tales, don’t you think?”
He frowned, scrutinizing the tree trunk. “You fell asleep. Do you remember?”
She did, barely.
“I was so riled, I couldn’t relax. The future was so clear to me.” He ran his fingers down the tree, as if reading Braille. “Here.” He lifted her hand, pressing her fingers against the trunk. She stepped closer, squinting at the heart-shape scar in the bark. The carving inside was harder to discern. She ran her finger down each letter.
F – O – R – E – V – E – R
Her fingers jerked from the bark.
“I did it while you were asleep.” Jimmy’s deep voice came from close behind her, his breath stirring her hair. “It was all so new, and happened so fast. You and I weren’t even going steady yet. I didn’t feel I had the right to carve our initials, so I carved this instead.”
At his touch on her shoulder, she turned.
“I know it’s corny as hell, but I liked the idea of others reading it, wondering who it was meant for.” The half-smile that lifted the corner of his mouth looked painful. “I never told you.” As his strong face fell, the lines in it deepened. “I never told you so many things, Charla. The fact that I don’t have words for feelings is no excuse. I should have—”
She couldn’t stand watching this strong man break. “Jimmy, don’t. Please.”
“Look, Char. I’m not angling for anything. We’re divorced, and you don’t owe me a thing. But I need to talk about it. This is more for me than for you. I can’t go on without saying this, so I’d appreciate if you could do me the favor of listening.”
She looked up. Much of the pain in those brown eyes was her doing. She owed Jimmy at least this, even if the listening would hurt more than the telling. Her stomach muscles tightened, preparing for a blow. She nodded.
JB spat out the words that had stuck in his craw for months. “I’m so sorry, Charla. Sorry that my being with Jess hurt you.” He felt the muscle in his jaw flex as he searched for words. “That’s not the end of it.
“It started years ago, when I forgot what I knew. Being a big man only mattered if you thought so. I got caught up in the big lights. I liked people recognizing me, the sound of my voice over the mike, the groupies. It was all about me, and I turned my focus from what was important to what was fun.” He shook his head, as if to clear it. “In the end, I gave away the diamonds in my life for fool’s gold. What I found out was that a big man, alone, mostly ends up in a bar, drunk. Now I understand why.
“Charla, that day, when Benje—”
She gave a panicked shake of her head and touched a finger to his lips. The grief bleeding from her eyes reminded him that her competent exterior cobbled over a fragile recovery. He reached to touch her but stopped short, afraid he’d pushed too hard. “Okay, Charla. We won’t speak of that now.” He forced his hand to his side.
“Breaking my marriage vows wasn’t the worst of it.” He cleared his throat, to finish. “I turned and left you, knowing you needed me. There’s no going back from that.” He thrust his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. For all of it.
“I lost more than my job the day you threw me off the ranch, Charla. I lost my way.”
Leaving his guts steaming on the ground under the tree, he spun on his heel and walked away.
He’s leaving. The same impotent panic as the first time roared through her. Char clutched the tree as an anchor to hold herself upright. And to keep herself from running after him.
You can’t trust him. Not again. She’d always thought women who took back a cheater incredibly dense; if he’d done it once, he had a taste for it.
She watched as her fingers tightened on the tree trunk. They didn’t look familiar. Strong, scarred, callused. Working hands. They’d saddled a horse, pulled a calf. They’d accomplished thousands of chores she wasn’t aware of nine months ago, much less imagined herself capable of. Dropping her arms, she stepped away from the tree. I’m not that dependent little housewife anymore.
She wouldn’t be putting anything in a man’s hands that she didn’t decide.
Jimmy strode away, spine straight,. Even from the back, she saw his chest hitch.
Besides, the man who left me wasn’t Jimmy. This is Jimmy.
A strange calm radiated from her chest to fill her body, a liquid balm that cooled her hot skin and stilled the roar in her head. Sounds came to her: the drone of a lone cicada and the soft burble of water as it tumbled over rocks in the river’s bend.
“You didn’t leave me, Jimmy.” Her voice sounded loud in the open meadow. “I drove you away.” Her knees supported her after all when she walked from the shade of the tree to where he’d stopped, halfway to the truck. “I may have been under the influence, but I remember. I screamed in your face like a crazy woman, and if that wouldn’t have chased you away, I’d have done something worse.
“See, your leaving turned out to be the best thing, Jimmy. Grief is a strange thing. It allowed me to stay close to the place I was when Benje was alive. It was a frigid comfort, but that winter I took what comfort I could find. It, along with the pills, got to be a habit, and I was sinking in an ocean of grief. I would have run out of air and drowned but for your leaving.” She stopped a moment, to pull in air. “I hit bottom then.” Seeing his stricken look, she hurried on. “I found out that the bottom can be a good thing. Something solid under your feet to push off of. You leaving turned out to be the beginning for me.”
Char stopped in front of him, stunned by the truth she hadn’t known until she spoke it. “It sounds crazy now, but when you tried to comfort me, it felt like I was pulling away from Benje.” A shudder ran through her so hard that her hands brushed her thighs in a St. Vitus dance. “Like I was leaving him, all alone, in that dark place.” Jimmy reached as if to touch but then dropped his hand.
The truth felt as clean as the breeze that kissed her face, giving her the resolve to go on. “I know I’ve made you feel guilty, Jimmy. I acted like the jilted wife to the entire town.” When she caught herself l
ooking everywhere but at him, she forced her gaze to his. “I’m not proud of it. The truth of it is, I gave you to that young girl.”
Char inhaled a deep breath and set free her last secret. “You see, I forgot something too, Jimmy. I forgot that there was a time, before Benje, when we were enough. I was so immersed in trying to hang onto what was gone that I was willing to throw away what was left.
“I felt—” Once begun, the truth spewed from her throat unstoppable, burning as it burst out. “I feel so guilty. I’m afraid if I go on living, I’m abandoning my baby!”
The truth ended in a wail that rolled across the meadow. The birds and crickets fell into shocked silence. She saw her own fright reflected in Jimmy’s tear-filled eyes as he stepped forward to pull her into his arms.
CHAPTER
26
Trust everybody, but cut the cards.
—Finley Peter Dunne
Her admission opened a door. Char cowered in the maelstrom of emotion, terrified she’d be swept back to the nightmare world of the days following the accident; that off-kilter, rabbit-hole world of shrouded light and foreign whispers. The fear didn’t matter, because she couldn’t stop the inhuman howl pouring from her throat. Jimmy stood silent through it, holding her, a solid mast she lashed herself to.
The tempest finally ebbed, leaving her limp, depleted. Still he held her, chin resting on her head, smoothing his hand lightly over her hair, murmuring words too low for her to hear. As she gulped for air, her chest loosened, absorbing the simple, powerful pleasure of being touched. It had been so long since she’d allowed more than a stranger’s accidental brush of a hand on the street in passing or a cashier’s touch while returning change. No, that wasn’t exactly true. It wasn’t that people hadn’t touched her. After all, Bella had, and Sal hugged her in church last Sunday. The difference was that now, the touch didn’t end at her skin. She was accepting of it. As she drank in the comfort, it swelled to a warm, glowing puddle in her chest, like a shot of Bailey’s on a frostbitten day. She wanted to stay like this forever and not have to face whatever came next.
