Ginny stuck up her finger. “Only one this week, and the playground aide didn’t even look that upset about it.”
Cal pressed his hands on Ginny’s shoulders. “Ginny’s only gotten four time-outs this week, too.”
Their dad’s eyes lit right up in amusement, though Cal could see he was trying hard to be serious. “Virginia Ann, you’re more trouble than all three of your brothers combined! What am I ever going to do with you?”
She looked down at her feet. “I don’t know.”
“Come now. What do I always say?”
Slowly, she looked up at her dad. “Love me a lot?”
Calvin’s smiled widened, but Cal noticed that it also looked strained. “That’s a fact. When I get home, we’ll have to watch TV together.”
“Okay. The Biggest Loser’s on again.” She and her daddy were reality-show junkies.
“What about Survivor?”
“I’m not sure. Cal hasn’t let me watch it since that man took off all his clothes and that boy and girl started kissing in the dark.”
“It really wasn’t appropriate for a six-year-old, Dad.”
“Good TV, though,” his dad remarked. “But, uh, probably not so good for little girls. Your brother’s just lookin’ out for you.”
“But you’ll watch TV with me soon?”
“Of course, sweetheart. It’s a date.”
Ginny leaned closer, eyeing the IV tube. “Does that hurt?”
“Nah.”
“Just your heart?”
“Just my heart. And my ribs.”
“Poor Daddy.” Ever so slowly, one by one, her fingers loosened on the bed rail and she thrust her hand through. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed my little girl, too.” He reached out a hand. “Come here, pumpkin. Come hold my hand for a sec.”
She did as he asked, her tentative expression morphing into a full-blown grin as she stepped closer.
Cal took the empty seat and let the two of them have their time together. In a way that he’d never done with his boys, Calvin Sr. asked Ginny a dozen questions and listened intently to each answer. Within five minutes, he’d heard all about school and her dolls and even got an update on Spot—the puppy Jarred’s girlfriend, Serena, had brought home. “You’re not letting that dog chew up my slippers, are you?”
Ginny’s little mouth formed a circle. “Oh, no, sir.”
“That’s good.” He yawned. “I’m getting tired now and you need to get out of this hospital. There’s sick people everywhere. Before you know it, they’re going to make you sick, too. Now, is your brother going to take you to lunch? Because I think visiting folks here should at least earn you a meal.”
Cal stood up. “I am. We’re going to go get shakes and burgers at the Sonic, aren’t we?”
“And go to Shop-N-Go. Cal said maybe I could get some new crayons.”
“If you do, will you draw me a picture?”
Ginny’s face lit up as if her daddy had just given her the sun and the moon. “Uh-huh. I’ll bring it next time.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Their dad looked to be fading fast, so Cal cleared his throat. “It’s time, sugar.”
“Bye, baby,” Dad said.
Ginny blew him a kiss, then trotted back over to Cal. “I’m ready now.” She peeked out the door, then turned back to Cal. “The nurses’ station has suckers. Can I go get me one?”
“You may.”
When they were alone, his dad looked like the grumpy old man that he was once again. With a ragged sigh, he leaned back into the pillows and closed his eyes. “That girl. She’s everything and a day, ain’t she?”
Cal smiled. “Yes, sir.”
“Really only four time-outs?”
“That’s all I’ve heard from her teacher.” Cal shrugged. “’Course, the year’s just starting. Ginny might be starting off slow. You know…breaking her teacher in slowly.”
His dad looked as if he was trying to look perturbed, but his eyes were glowing. “Maybe I should’ve told her no more often.”
“I tell her no all the time. It doesn’t seem to do much good.”
“Perhaps you’ve got a point.”
“Dad, do you need anything?”
“Only the same things as ever. I need to get pain free and out of here. I’m ready to go home.”
Except, he wasn’t going to be able to go home anytime soon.
But because he wasn’t ready to bring that up, Cal concentrated on his dad’s pain. “Want me to call for the nurse?”
“Nah, I’ll push my button when y’all leave.” After a moment, he murmured, “I’m glad you brought our girl here, son. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. She loves you.” Briefly, Cal wondered why it was so easy to talk about Ginny’s love but not his own. Now was the time to tell him about Trent, but the words stuck in his throat. “So, Dad, we got a phone call….”
“What happened? Was it the accountant?”
“No. Business wise, everything’s fine.” Cal paused. “It’s about Trent. Dad, Trent got hurt in Albuquerque.”
“Oh, I know that,” he said wearily. “I wondered if you were ever going to tell me about it, though.”
“I didn’t want to bother you about it.”
“I’m old and falling apart, but I’m still your father. Trent knows that. He called last night. I talked to him.” He shook his head. “That boy’s going to be the death of me. If that little girl of ours doesn’t wear me out first.”
“I spoke with his doctor. He’s going to be okay. Just out of commission.”
“Hope he’ll use the time to come home for a while. I asked him to.”
“He said he’ll probably get this way in a month or so.”
“A month, huh? That boy. Always doing what he’s wanted to.”
Privately, Cal agreed. Sometimes, Cal felt Trent’s independence was a slap in the face. All his life Cal had done what was expected of him, and had gotten very little in the way of recognition for it. Trent, on the other hand, had made a small fortune in the saddle…and most times acted as if that was enough for any man.
Cal frowned as his dad shifted again. “So, you’re feeling better?”
“Hell, no. My whole body hurts like the devil. Plus, every time I turn around, a nurse comes in and wants to poke and prod me.”
“Junior?” Ginny said from the door.
“I’m still here, Gin.”
“You coming?”
“In a minute. Now sit for a sec.”
“Take care of your sister,” his dad muttered. “She’s waiting on you.”
“I’ll be right there. But she can cool her heels for a while, too.”
“It’s doubtful.”
“One day she’ll learn some patience. Maybe.”
Slowly, a new awareness filled his dad’s gaze. Pride. And maybe, understanding? “You’re a good son, Junior,” he said after a bit. “If I haven’t told you lately, I want you to know I’m proud of you,” he said gruffly. “You do a good job with Ginny.”
With that, he turned his head away and closed his eyes.
Cal knew better than to reach out and touch his dad. But still, he felt that brush of acceptance as strong as if his father had gripped him in a bear hug. “I’ll be back this evening.”
“Not necessary.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t stay for long.”
As his father grumbled, Cal directed Ginny out before he could say anything more. Once they were halfway down the hallway, he said, “Gin, what do you say we go eat some cheeseburgers?”
“Can I have a shake, too?”
“Always,” he said, taking her hand. As once again she skipped down the hallway by his side.
SUSAN’S WORK SCHEDULE wasn’t getting any easier. If anything, it seemed to double every week. Though Susan knew some of that stemmed from being new and unused to some computer procedures, some of the fault was of her own making, too. Time and again she’d feel her mind drift, and
she’d start thinking about Hank and his unhappiness about Electra. Next thing she knew, the guilt she’d felt for moving him from his friends and family would settle in, hard.
No, the only thing that had sparked happiness in her son was Mr. Riddell—much to her dismay.
Cal Riddell. No matter how much she tried to erase him from her thoughts, he seemed to turn up like that bad penny. First there was Hank talking about him. And then Betsy mentioning him.
And now, every few minutes, she kept finding her mind running his way. In spite of her best efforts, Susan kept thinking about his blue-gray eyes and his perpetually serious expression. And the way he sneaked glances her way…even the way he sparred with her about everything and nothing.
She couldn’t recall the last person who seemed to take such pleasure in getting her back up.
Susan was sitting at her computer screen, wondering what, exactly, he did all day at his ranch, when—just her luck—Paula appeared at her doorway and announced his arrival.
Susan snapped her head up. “What was that?”
“Oh, you heard me correctly,” Paula said with a cheeky smile. Lowering her voice, she added, “He said he wouldn’t see anybody but you.”
Right there and then, the temperature of her body rose a good ten degrees. She’d just stood up when he appeared at her doorway, looking like her girlish dreams of the Marlboro Man—white felt Stetson, pale gray dress shirt, dark denims, silver buckle.
Gorgeous.
“Ms. Young,” he said, tipping his hat slightly. “Cal Riddell.”
Really? He’d really introduced himself again? As if she wouldn’t have recognized him? Her mouth went dry. “How nice to see you again,” she said. Calmly. Professionally. Inside, though, she felt her nerves kick into high gear. “Please, have a seat.” She gestured to one of the chairs across from her desk.
“Ma’am?”
Belatedly, she realized he was waiting for her to take a chair first. “Oh.” She took the chair next to him, but forgot to straighten her skirt as she did so, so it lay crooked across her thighs. A little too high on her left.
In a fluid move, he sat down, his gaze straying across her legs before he looked directly at her face.
“What can I help you with?”
It took him a few seconds to answer, as though he was getting his thoughts together but having a difficult time doing it. Finally, he murmured, “Do you remember me talking about my dad? About how he just had heart surgery?”
“Of course.” She remembered that…and a whole bunch of other things about him. “How is he doing?”
A light flickered in those amazing eyes of his. “Grumpy as all get-out.”
“Obviously, heart surgery is tough on a person’s body—”
He cut her off. “The doctors said he’s going to need some extra help for quite a bit. At least a month.”
“I see.”
“I remembered you talking about this place.” He shifted, then looked around her office as if he was expecting more than the plain, utilitarian space that it was. “You made it seem nice.”
Susan bit her lip. Was he being ironic? “I think it is nice.”
A muscle in his cheek jumped. “Think y’all can take him in?”
The look in his eyes was dark and cool and…full of longing. As though he’d give anything if she’d just help him out.
Something inside her turned all languid and sweet. She knew at that moment she’d do anything she could to make his life better.
Now, where in the world did that come from?
Irritated with herself, she got to her feet and hid behind the safety of a giant cherry-veneer desk. “Let me see how things are looking.” She used her mouse to look over the latest numbers in their various wings. There were empty rooms in two of them. “We have space available, so I don’t see why your father staying here would be a problem.”
He sighed. “That’s good news. Real good.” Before she could say something completely inane, he fastened those eyes on her again. “Susan, would y’all be able to help with his physical therapy?”
“I don’t think it would be a problem at all. We help with rehabilitation all the time.” She picked up her phone. “Phyllis Morton is in charge of that. I can call her up and see if she can meet with you right now—”
“That’s not necessary.”
She paused. “Sorry?”
“I, um, don’t have time to talk to everyone here today. Just you.”
Against her will, her insides turned all mushy. “How about I give you her phone number then? You can talk to her when you have time.”
“That would be fine.”
“I’ll follow up on things, too.” She stood and walked around her desk, feeling the need to reassure him.
Or maybe she just wanted to stand a little closer?
He held out his hand. Immediately her hand was surrounded by callused warmth. “Susan, thank you for your time,” he murmured. “I’m obliged.”
“You’re very welcome.”
One side of his mouth lifted before he turned away. After a tip of his hat in Paula’s direction, he left the building.
And Susan finally exhaled.
When he was out of sight, Paula patted her heart. “Lord have mercy, but that is one fine-looking man.”
Wisely, Susan didn’t say a word. But privately, well, she was almost glad she hadn’t seen the last of Cal Riddell.
Too anxious and keyed up to get any more work done, she left her office and went on her daily rounds. Several residents were watching Jeopardy and good-naturedly calling out answers.
Another group of four were playing cards. Others were reading or doing crosswords. But Rosa Ventura was nowhere to be found. Curious, she walked up to Mrs. Olden, one of Rosa’s usual dining partners. “Where’s Mrs. Ventura today?”
“We haven’t seen her.” She shrugged. “I guess she wanted to be alone today.”
“Maybe so.” Susan kept her expression neutral, but she was growing concerned. Though it wasn’t rare for the elderly lady not to be present, it was strange that she hadn’t been seen by any of the residents. Usually, the woman made time for everyone and anyone. And was vocal about it, too.
She decided to go to her room and check up on her.
Rosa answered the door after two raps. “What do you want?”
“Nothing. I, uh, was just wondering where you were.”
“You found me. I’ve been here.”
Rosa’s voice seemed more bitter than usual and her expression looked glum.
“Is anything the matter? Can I come in?”
Still holding the door almost closed, Rosa shook her head sadly. “I appreciate you stopping by, but I’m not in much of a visiting mood today.”
Susan didn’t know much about the lady except that she liked trivia, cards and had a razor-sharp tongue. “Are you sick?”
For a moment, Rosa looked as though she was going to turn away without answering, but then she sighed. “It’s just my anniversary. Some days I miss my husband, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry. Has he been gone long?”
Rosa nodded. “Four years.” With a wave of her hand, she motioned for Susan to move on. “Don’t worry, dear. It’s just one of those days. I’ll be more myself tomorrow.”
“I’ll count on it,” Susan said with a smile.
With a sigh, she walked back to the main room and played Yahtzee for a few moments, and helped one of the attendants organize the crafts room for a group of Girl Scouts who were stopping by. Finally it was five o’clock.
It had been a busy day.
But, she realized as she walked out to the parking lot, she hardly remembered a thing about it except for Cal Riddell’s visit.
“Lord have mercy,” she murmured, stealing Paula’s line. “What a man.”
Chapter Five
“How much longer?”
“We’re looking at movies, Hank. Pick one out.”
“There’s nothing here I want to see. Plus, you’
ve been looking at books, too.”
Her son said books as if she was looking at Uzis. Though, chances were he’d be way more interested in guns than anything in the library.
“You’re just going to have to be patient, Henry,” she said as she tried to hold on to her own patience.
Hank turned away with an exaggerated sigh.
Susan felt like doing the same thing. Her boy’s feelings about the library were the exact opposite of hers. Sometimes it was hard to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t a reader and had no interest in ever becoming one.
Whenever her mother had taken her to the library, she’d scampered off to the children’s section and had gotten lost among the stacks. Without fail, her mother would have to ask her time and again to limit her stack of books to just five. She’d also practically dragged Susan out when it was time to leave.
Hank, however, had stayed by her side from the moment they’d entered. Furthermore, he seemed especially intent on claiming her attention every ten seconds, mainly to encourage her to leave.
“Mom? Mom! Did you see who’s here?”
“No. And hush.”
Hank pulled on her sleeve. “Mom, it’s that man from the hospital.”
“Shh,” she admonished.
“Mom. Mo-om. Are you listening? He’s still there. He’s comin’ closer.”
“I’m listening to you talk too much,” she said as sternly as she was able. “We are in the library. You need to be quiet.”
“But it’s Mr. Riddell.”
Just like that, her whole body went tingly. “Oh. Really?”
Funny, how when she was at the Lodge, the only Riddell she thought about was a sixty-two-year-old who could swear up a blue streak.
But when she wasn’t working, well, a whole different Riddell man captured her thoughts, and he wore a white Stetson real well.
“Uh-huh. He’s standing right over there. Want to go say hey?”
“No, I do not. Besides, we need to leave him alone. A person should be able to go to the library without being pestered.”
“Oh, Mom. How are you supposed to make friends if you’re always too scared to say hello?”
She was not scared. She was just reserved. And there was nothing wrong with that…. “Hank, let me finish here, and then we’ll go get something to eat.”
My True Cowboy Page 5
