Roped and Tied [Wayback, Texas Series]

by Mallary Mitchell

  "You could have told me I was a father!” He repeated bitterly.

  "You got married! Heaven forbid you marry me, but you married some other woman as soon as I was out of the picture."

  "She was older and she knew what she wanted. I didn't think you did."

  "I wanted you.” Eden plopped down on the bed. Jericho's legs bounced with the movement of the mattress and white-hot pain gripped him.

  "Watch the legs!” He closed his eyes as the pain ebbed. “Since we were kids you have been doing this to me. First you got your daddy to hire me and Dylan on the farm. You encouraged me to compete at the rodeo. Look at me. I am a product of Eden Sawyer. You made everything about me, Eden.” He turned his eyes to her and let out a long tired breath. “Now I find out you've made me something else—a father. Eden, what am I going to do with you?” The question was rhetorical. “What am I going to do period?” He leaned back and thought a moment, “I want to know my son and if you think one minute I don't want to accept responsibility you don't know me at all. So sure, I'll stay at your house where I will once again redefine who I am, according Eden Sawyer.” He cast a mutinous look in her direction.

  "Don't think I'm offering marriage or anything.” His voice was raised and he didn't care the nurses and whoever else was poised in the hallway could hear him. “Every time I think my future is set there you go and knock me down again. I am tired of falling flat on my face only for you to pick me up. Eden do you realize this is a habit of yours? You are like that kudzu I was stuck in. Once you take root, you take over. I thought I had you under control, fool that I was. I thought I could let you back into my life without you consuming all that I am."

  "I have only done what I though was best for you."

  He groaned and hit his forehead. “Without ever asking me. Who are you to decide what is right and wrong for my life? This is hard for me, Eden. Two days ago I was thinking about how good it felt to not be tied down.” He gestured to the leg raised above him, “and now look at me, I'm tied down or should I say up? I am hooked up to God only knows what, because my nutty mother mowed me down with her car. I have a son I've just met by a girl I didn't marry. I don't think this can get any better.” His telephone rang. “Farrell here” he snapped.

  "Jericho, what have you done?"

  "Oh it's you, Hi, Steph.” He looked at Eden and put the phone to his chest. “Don't even think of leaving this room.

  "I can call back later if you have a visitor.” Stephanie spoke in a breathy voice.

  "No need. Dylan said you called."

  "How did this happen? You can't possibly be out for the rest of the season."

  "I got run over. I'm out.” End of story. Eden was reading the cards from his fans.

  "I think you need me."

  "No, I don't want you here.” Eden was now filling his pink-looking water pitcher to take care of his plants.

  "I would be there for you. Jericho, don't you miss me?"

  "My family has it covered."

  Eden pretended not to listen.

  "You sound odd."

  "I got run over!"

  "Bill Sternberger from The Sporting News wants an interview."

  He paused for a long moment. Ever the business woman. “I don't feel like an interview."

  "Would you consider an email interview?"

  "No I can't do it by email. I don't have access."

  "I have Internet,” Eden offered.

  He gave her an irritated look. He knew she was listening.

  "Just one itty bitty interview."

  He really hated the baby talk. “Fine. Send it. I'll answer it when they let me out of this place, which will probably tomorrow."

  "Where are you going to be?"

  "Eden Sawyer's. She's an old acquaintance."

  "I think I've heard you mention her before. Your brother works for her father, right?"

  "Yeah, and she's the mother of my illegitimate child."

  "Even when you're hurt you still have such a funny sense of humor."

  "Don't laugh, I'm serious."

  "Oh please!"

  "Look I have to go.” He spoke with thinly stretched patience.

  "You're having an affair with her. Aren't you?"

  He gave a derisive snort, “I have two broken legs. I'm not Superman."

  "I always thought you were."

  Oh boy. “Whatever. See ya.” He replaced the receiver.

  "That was your ex?"

  "Stephanie.” He nodded. “Publicist extraordinaire."

  "So will you come to stay at my house?” Eden bit her bottom lip.

  "I already said yes.” He cut his eyes at her. “Oh, I forgot you're high society in Wayback. You need a written RSVP?"

  "You don't need to be so nasty. I don't know if I want you around Jeb if you're going to growl and hiss the whole time."

  "Too late to take back your invitation, Sweet Cheeks. You're stuck with me for the next two months at least.” He looked at Eden and dropped his head back to the pillows. “Somebody wake me up from this nightmare."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Seven

  Eden contemplated hitting Jericho as she drove him home from the hospital the next day. He had barely spoken as they navigated the familiar roads. He simply brooded, and it didn't surprise her.

  Her frequent glances his way through the strained silence caught him staring with a vacant expression.

  "We're not going to your execution,” she said.

  He didn't speak. Jericho looked her way and nodded.

  Once past the railroad tracks she took a second left toward her house.

  "You don't have to do this.” Eden spoke again.

  "I want to."

  "You don't act like it."

  "Sorry my behavior doesn't meet with your approval.” He bristled.

  "It's only temporary. Your legs are going to heal. You'll be able to get back to riding and roping in no time. It's not the end of the world."

  "It's the end of mine,” he spat.

  Eden recoiled. She didn't attempt to speak again. He didn't have to be so nasty. Or maybe he did. He was an athlete constantly on the go and now he was forced to sit and wait.

  "There are a lot of houses out here now,” Jericho said.

  His calm voice startled her.

  "The town is growing."

  "I'm sorry for being so nasty."

  "Forget it. If I had two injured legs I'd be nasty to everyone too."

  It was an average summer day. Children were shooting hoops and riding bicycles. Adults were gardening or washing cars. And Jericho was coming to live with her. She was insane.

  * * * *

  Jericho stared at the green fields. This was a really bad idea. A major mistake. His stomach fell as they took a left into the cedar-lined drive. The white house with its wrap around porch was the place he had always wanted to live. He'd always envied the pool. His childhood had been so different. Their backyard had a six foot mud hole that Dylan had dug, believing it would magically become a pool. They didn't have a basement. There was only a crawl space filled with crawling things. He had to admit, it had been fun locking Dylan under there. It had definitely been worth his grandmother's switching.

  A new large deck had been added to the back where the porch stopped. He could see the flat-roofed building that housed the farm offices, and knew if they hadn't turned, the next driveway was to the barn shop and the scene of his accident.

  She cut off the engine.

  Did he really want to do this? Jericho just sat in the passenger seat of her minivan for a minute. What was he doing here? Of all places.

  He had come full circle, and just like Dylan's Dixie Pig doughnuts he really didn't see the point of it all. A season wasted, his life on hold, and a kid.

  "Dad said he'd to stop by later."

  He nodded. Wonderful.

  "Matt is here."

  "Great."

  "He's angry about this. He doesn't think you should be here, but it's m
y house.” Eden said. “You know Matt. He'll get over it."

  She really knew how to make him feel great. Where were those painkillers? Being unconscious was becoming increasingly more appealing.

  Matt was approaching as she spoke and he wasn't looking too happy. He opened Jericho's door and glared.

  "I have a half mind to lay you out...” he stopped as Jeb came running down the ramp.

  Grace followed on his heels, her dark hair flying behind her. “I want to help."

  "Me too.” Jeb insisted.

  Obviously neither child had heard Matt's comment. At least Jericho hoped they hadn't.

  "Grace, aren't you supposed to be getting ready to leave?” Matt asked.

  "I'm all ready,” she said, “and Daddy told me to leave him alone so he could finish packing."

  "Grace, get those plastic bags from the hospital off the back seat and hand one to Jeb so he can help. And Matt, not another word,” Eden ordered. “Now kids, stand over there out of the way. We need some room to get up the ramp."

  Jericho used the door for support. The fire in his right leg was brief and intense as he stepped toward the waiting wheel chair. By some amazing feat of self-control, he managed not to swear at all as his little sandy-haired son smiled up at him. He didn't want the first word he taught the boy to be one he'd sit in timeout for using.

  Grace watched and kept a running commentary going on his progress. “I never heard of a grown up getting run over before. There was a kid, Brett Hawkins, in my class last year and he got run over by a chicken truck."

  "Really?” Jericho asked. He tried to sound interested.

  "Preacher Will, he's the preacher at my church, says that this was a miracle because Brett was in some real loose sand and alls he got was a big tire track on his stomach. We called him Road Kill Brett until Preacher Will heard us and said that was rude.” Then the girl stopped. “I have a gerbil, do you want to see him? He has a ball I put him in and he goes all around the house. Let's go get him, Jeb."

  The kids ran into the house and Jericho pressed forward up the ramp. He had thought he had strong arms, now they were aching from exertion. Suddenly the resistance was gone. Matt was pushing his chair.

  "I'll be right back.” Eden bounded up the ramp and out of earshot.

  Matt hadn't spoken to him, not even at rodeo events, since the day he'd left Wayback.

  "You sorry excuse for a human being. Lord, all the times I went off with Dylan and put her in the truck with you because I trusted you to keep her safe."

  "I did."

  "Oh, that makes everything much better.” Matt snorted. “You were my friend. You were always lecturing me and Dylan about respecting the girls we dated. Do as I say not as I do, huh?” Matt's voice rose slightly.

  "Eden's not a girl I just dated, Matt. You know I love her.” Jericho stopped suddenly realizing what had just come out of his mouth. “Loved her.” Jericho corrected. Stupid pain pills.

  "Do you really?” Matt waited.

  "God help me, yes.” Irritated, at himself more than anything, Jericho rolled away from Matt on to the deck and looked around the farmhouse. Time to change the subject. “The place looks different."

  "Well, Eden wanted to redecorate.” Matt opened the French doors for him to roll into the kitchen.

  "She did a good job.” Jericho admired her impeccable taste. He wheeled over to examine the wainscoting.

  "You like the renovations to the house?” Eden rushed in as if having her brother and her son's father conversing at the kitchen table was the most natural thing in the world. It had been at one time.

  "I remember the kitchen was darker."

  "It was harvest gold,” Eden replied with a grimace. “I had new oak cabinets installed and then had Venetian plaster applied to the walls of the dining room. I just went with the wainscoting here in the kitchen and painted the walls this deep cream to match the dining room. We put down tile in the kitchen and I took up the carpet that dad put on the hard wood floors in the den. I wanted it airy. You should see the basement. It's an apartment now.” She stopped awkwardly. They'd spent a lot of time together in that basement. “So what do you think of the couch and the rug?"

  "It looks a lot like mine actually.” In their time together he obviously had acquired her tastes or she his.

  "Are you up to seeing your room?"

  "Yeah.” He tried to back up and hit the wall.

  "Matt, help him.” Eden scolded her brother who just stood and watched.

  "Sure, Eden.” Matt glared at his sister. “Can I dump him out?"

  "Matt, behave,” she chided.

  Jericho looked over his shoulder and sneered. “I've got it, Matt. I don't think I trust you.” He took over the chair.

  "I know I don't trust you.” Matt muttered.

  "So what do you think?” Eden asked when they reached the spare bedroom. “Different than it was, huh?"

  "Eden, you know what my old bedroom looked like. As long as it has four walls and a floor, it'll be fine."

  "You were in his old bedroom?” Matt stiffened.

  "I visited his house,” Eden hissed at Matt. She turned back to Jericho. “I want you to be comfortable since you're going to be here a while."

  Jericho stared. He hoped it had already looked like this. The walls were hunter green and she had what looked like a Bob Timberlake print framed over the computer desk. Cream mini blinds were topped by a simple forest green print valence that matched the green, blue and brown patterned bed set. She had a bookcase close to the bed so that he could read if he wished to and on the shelves were plenty of books. He had a telephone and fax. She hadn't left anything out. Jericho stopped. He couldn't afford to get too comfortable.

  "That bed looks really great.” He rolled his neck from one side to the other.

  "You're about to drop, aren't you? Get on in bed and I'll check on you later."

  * * * *

  Jericho woke. Where was he? He hated this. His life was reduced to sleeping and brief periods of wakefulness. He looked around the room. That wasn't his ceiling fan. He made a sudden move and pain stirred his memory. His legs. He was at Eden's house.

  The pain killers that had helped him get from the hospital to Eden's had knocked him out shortly after he settled himself on the bed.

  The sound of the creaking door alerted him to a visitor. “Jeb, don't wake him up.” Coy Sawyer walked in the room to retrieve the chubby three-year-old.

  "It's okay. He can come in."

  "Here.” Jeb held a sucker in his hand.

  "He wanted to share with you,” Coy said.

  "Thanks.” He took the cellophane wrapped candy. “Peach. My favorite."

  Jeb smiled and ran from the room. He seemed to be a healthy happy little boy and Jericho wanted him to stay that way.

  Coy remained behind. Jericho looked at the tall man and wished he hadn't picked now to wake. He wasn't sure what to say to Eden's father.

  "Hey Coy.” That was genius-quality conversation there.

  "Aren't you a sight?” Coy just shook his head sadly. “I remember back in seventy-two when I got tangled up with a bull called Red Rider. They had to airlift me out of there. I broke my left hip, left arm and cracked three ribs.” Coy smiled under his mustache. “I thought I looked bad. But you, man, you look like you've been run over with a Mack truck."

  "It was just a sedan. I remember seeing reruns of that accident."

  Coy gave a huff. “Those were the days."

  "I can tell you miss it.” What was it that made them crave the excitement of rodeo? “How long did it take to get back to riding?” Jericho asked.

  "Eight years."

  "Eight years?” He repeated weakly.

  Coy slapped his leg with a laugh. “I'm just yankin’ your chain. It was more like eight months. If you could have seen your face.” Eden's father walked over to the wooden chair and took a seat. Then he sighed a heavy sigh. “So you've finally come home."

  "I guess I need to explain about...."


  "Don't.” Coy shook his head. “You don't owe me any explanation. I knew about you and Eden back when you two thought you were fooling the world. Eden told me you were Jeb's father early on, but I already knew. She also told me why she didn't tell you. I figured she would after a while, but she's got a stubborn streak a mile long. Kinda like you do. That boy needs a father. You understand me?"

  "Yeah.” Jericho nodded in contemplation. The message was loud and clear.

  "And a name.” Coy suggested his eyebrows up and his hand went to his chin in contemplation.

  "Yeah."

  "You get some rest. If I know my girl she'll put you to work if you don't watch it."

  Coy walked out and Jericho was once again alone. He needed to use the restroom but he sure wasn't going to ask Coy for help. Bathroom trips were going to be interesting. He swung into the wheelchair.

  His arms were strong from biweekly workouts and he was in good physical shape. He didn't quite manage to get his shorts back on however. Where Eden had found completely snap-on clothing he'd like to know. It really was an intriguing concept. At least it might be if he didn't have two injured legs.

  "Are you doing okay?"

  Eden was there waiting as he exited the bathroom, his hands still wet from washing.

  "Dylan and Grace left for the weekend and Dad took Jeb home with him. He said this would be a rough day for you. I guess he knows what he's talking about; the man has had twenty-seven broken bones."

  Of course Coy knew it all. “I reckon so.” Jericho didn't roll his eyes. He'd been back in the Sawyer camp one day and his world was already going according to Coy's wishes.

  "Need any help?"

  "No. I'm not asking you to help me use the bathroom or get dressed.” He spoke a bit more brusquely than he intended.

  "But you can't get dressed, can you?"

  "Go away."

  Eden wasn't listening. She crossed her arms and assumed her stubborn stance. “No.” She walked boldly into the bedroom. “Use your hands to lift your backside and I'll pull these...."

  "Eden!” Would she leave him no dignity?

  "It's nothing I haven't seen before. I have a son—your son, remember?” She spoke with hands on her hips.

  "How could I forget? I've been constantly reminded these past few days,” he growled, and instantly regretted it as he noticed her overly bright eyes. He breathed deeply. “I don't want your help, I'm not wearing...” he protested as she grabbed the shorts, “boxers."