by Becky McGraw
While they worked together on the animals in the barn, Wes had told Roxanne exactly what he thought of her sister too. And he'd had plenty of time to vent. One horse had needed stitches in two places, and the other one had nearly needed them.
Because of Leigh Ann Baker.
Wes fought the anger burning inside of him, and tried to pay attention to getting out of the driveway without killing anyone. The beehive of activity at the ranch had settled down some now, and the crowd had dispersed, but there were still a helluva lot of people harassing Terri and Joel Rhodes.
Because of Leigh Ann Baker and her antics.
His anger resurfaced as he thought about all the people she had affected by showing up here. It wasn't only his life she had wrecked. By showing up, Leigh Ann had brought her glory hound mother here too. Roxanne was a hot mess trying to deal with it all and her mother at the same time.
Somehow, the abrasive woman had been trying to spin the situation into an opportunity to shove her youngest daughter into the spotlight, instead of trying to calm things down. As fast as Terri and Joel tried to put out fires, Trudy Baker was setting more. A few times, he thought for sure that Roxanne would pull out her shotgun and pick her mother or a reporter off of the porch, but instead she finally dragged her inside and threatened to do just that if she didn't stay there. As mad as the female ranch hand had been, her mother evidently realized she was serious and shut her trap and stayed out of it.
Lester Fallon at least had the sense to get out of the middle of the mess, while the getting was good. He had a helicopter land in the middle of the yard to pick him up, and every camera there had recorded that action too. He was sure the media would brew up some story to explain his presence at the ranch to ratchet up the drama.
Wes huffed out a breath, and kicked on the air conditioner to cool off. As if the hell at the ranch hadn't been enough, the temperature outside was almost record-breaking today. His shirt was stuck to his back, his hair plastered to his head under his hat. Reaching up, he plucked it off of his head and tossed it onto the seat beside him, enjoying the cool blast from the vent that cooled his skin.
As he pulled into his driveway, Wes's phone rang in his pocket. He reached inside and pushed the button, "Hold on," he said as he pulled up under a tree near his office. He turned off the engine then glanced at the screen to see it was Roxanne. "Yeah?"
"Have you seen Leigh Ann?" she asked with worry in her tone.
"No, and I don't want to," he replied gruffly.
"I need to find her...Mrs. Rooks said they left her in the truck and she was leaving, but the truck is here and she isn't."
"I saw her, before I met you in the barn, but haven't seen her since," he informed with worry settling in his own chest. Why the hell he should be worried, Wes didn't know, and it irritated the hell out of him. When he finished treating the horses, he hadn't even thought about the woman again, didn't want to think about her.
Roxanne groaned, then the line went dead. Wes shoved his phone back into his pocket and decided to focus on his own problems. Let Roxanne deal with finding her sister, Wes was done with the whole mess, done with Leigh Ann Baker. He walked out to the end of the driveway to wait for the bus and get his mail.
Normalcy, that is what Wes wanted more than anything. And that is what he would find again. His life was going to get back to where it had been before Leigh Ann Baker showed up on his doorstep.
Even if that was bankrupt, stressful and boring, he thought as he pulled out the mountain of bills the mailman had left for him. The mailbox was practically overflowing with them. These days, this was the least exciting thing happening in his life, which totally amazed him, considering the serious hole he was digging for himself financially.
Wes heard the grinding of gears and looked up to see the yellow bus making its way slowly down the street. That was normalcy, his son getting off of the bus. One step toward getting things back in order. One step at a time is what it was going to take to get things on even ground again, and that is what he was going to take.
"Hey, sport..." Wes said ruffling his son's hair, before putting the arm that wasn't loaded down with bills around Trey's shoulders. "Have a good day at school?"
Trey danced from under his arm and turned to face him, walking backwards as they made their way back up the drive. "Yeah! Billy Thomas got spended today, because he punched Kyle right in the eye for taking his cookie!" Trey told him exuberantly punching his fist in the air to demonstrate.
"Fighting isn't cool..." Wes told him sternly. He knew a boy would think that was the coolest thing ever, Wes had felt the same about it when he was that age, but he wanted Trey to know it wasn't acceptable.
"I know, daddy, but Kyle is a bully, so I didn't mind that it was him that got punched," Trey told him, his face and eyes serious.
Wes wanted to groan, because if that was the case, he felt the same way. Karma was a good teacher, and the kid probably deserved the black eye. "Fighting is never acceptable," Wes told him though.
"Okay, daddy..." Trey said then turned away and ran ahead of him.
"Trey! I need you to help me unpack the truck, I had a farm call," Wes yelled after him. He needed a shower, something to eat and peace, but he had medication in his kit that needed to be put back in the refrigerator in the office, or it would go bad. Wes couldn't afford to waste things now, he needed to save every penny he could.
Silas bayed from the porch, and bounded down the steps to run across the yard toward Trey. Trey dropped his backpack to kneel and welcome the dog. The dog knocked Trey off balance and they rolled in the grass. Trey squealed as Silas bathed his face with his tongue. Normal.
Wes let out a breath, the tension in his shoulders easing a little as he drew near his truck. He let down the tailgate then yelled, "Trey come help me!" as he leaned in to reach for one of his kits.
A soft moan reached his ears and Wes searched the bed of the truck trying to find the source. The tarp he'd thrown in the back corner rustled, and he scrambled up into the truck figuring an animal had gotten into his truck and become trapped under there.
Swiftly he crawled to the canvas heap, and yanked it aside. What he revealed wasn't an animal at all, and sent his heart skidding to a halt in his chest, before it raced out of control. A red-faced, Leigh Ann Baker, her hair and clothing soaked with perspiration, struggled for every breath she took. She didn't open her eyes or speak, so Wes put a hand to her damp forehead then jerked it away. In this heat, she could be in the throes of a heat stroke, her core temperature frying her brain.
Wes scooped her hot body up into his arms and scooted toward the tailgate. Trey skidded to a stop at the edge of the truck and his eyes widened. "Is that Miss Leigh Ann?" he asked fearfully.
"Yeah...run into the house and go upstairs. Fill the tub with cold water--quick!" he told his son and watched him run toward the house with Silas at his heels.
Wes had to get her cooled off fast, or get her to a hospital, he wasn't sure which yet. If she didn't become responsive after soaking in the tub and drinking some water, he would call an ambulance. He needed to call Roxanne too, and let her know he'd found her sister.
Dumb woman. What person in their right mind covers themselves with a thick tarp in this kind of heat? A desperate woman.
Guilt washed through him as he dropped to his feet with her in his arms and walked quickly toward the house. Maybe if he had just taken the time to move his damned truck instead of venting his anger on her, she wouldn't be near dead in the back of his truck.
No, you are not responsible for this woman's actions--any of them.
Wes made his way inside the house and up the stairs, struggling to hold Leigh Ann's sweat-slick body in his arms. When he finally reached the bathroom, Trey stood there and the bath was running. "Go get me two bottles of cold water out of the refrigerator," he told his son as he sat down on the toilet with Leigh Ann.
His fingers trembled on the zipper of her dress, as he slid it down then shoved the straps of th
e dress off of her shoulders. Adjusting her in his lap, Wes slid the dress down and over her hips, then ran his hands down her legs and pushed off her shoes. They plunked to the floor, and he stood with her in her underwear and leaned over to ease her into the tub, holding her head above the rapidly rising water.
Leigh Ann moaned, but didn't open her eyes. With his hand at the back of her skull, Wes eased her head into the water too, and splashed cool water over her face.
Trey ran back into the room with two bottles of water held out to him. "Here, daddy."
"Set them down by the tub, and go watch TV for a little bit," Wes told him needing his son removed from this situation.
"No, I want to help, Miss Leigh Ann too," Trey said belligerently, folding his arms over his chest.
"Then get me the thermometer out of the cabinet, and the bottle of ibuprofen," he instructed and reached down for one of the bottles of water. He uncapped it and held her head up to press it to her dry lips. Her mouth opened and he tipped the bottle to give her a small sip.
She moaned again and her mouth moved. A good sign in Wes's estimation. He put the bottle to her lips again. "Leigh Ann drink some water," he encouraged and tipped it to pour in another small sip.
Wes heard Trey rummaging through the linen closet, then a drawer, before he brought Wes the thermometer and bottle of ibuprofen.
"Here, daddy..." Trey sat the items down beside the second bottle of water. "Is Miss Leigh Ann going to be okay, daddy?" he asked, his voice trembling.
"I hope so, sport. We need to get her cooled off..." Wes said and poured more water down her throat.
"Go call grandma and see if you can go stay at her house for a little while," Wes instructed. "I know you want to help, but I need you to get your homework done, and that will help me be able to focus on helping her."
Trey hesitated and Wes shot him a frustrated look. After a minute, he nodded then left the bathroom, and Wes continued feeding Leigh Ann sips of water, until the first bottle was empty. A few minutes later, he heard Trey talking to someone downstairs then groaned when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He had hoped his mother would just take Trey and leave, but it looked like she wasn't going to do that.
"Mom, can you please just take Trey for a little while?" he decided a preemptive strike, before she could start the questions was the best thing he could do. Wes didn't have time to explain everything, he needed to get Leigh Ann awake...or to the hospital quickly.
A bright flash of light blinded Wes and his grip on Leigh Ann slipped. Her head went under the water and he blinked trying to regain his sight, then pulled her head up.
"What the hell?!?" he shouted when his vision cleared and a strange man stood there with his camera to his eye, about to take another picture. There was a woman beside him dressed in an ugly black suit, with a smug smile on her lips.
"You were right, Leon...it was her getting in the back of that truck. It's a good thing we waited, now we'll have an exclusive. Good work."
Wes lifted Leigh Ann out of the tub and laid her gently on the floor, before he stood and stormed over to the man and shoved him hard. He staggered back toward the door, bumping into the woman he was with.
"Get the hell out of my house!" Wes shouted and shoved him again, seeing everything through a red haze. The best thing these two could do was run for the front door as fast as they could. In his entire life, Wes had never felt so angry and out of control.
"Hey dude, watch my camera!" the guy shouted as his camera banged on the door frame. Like a bull about to charge, Wes's chin lowered, his fists clenched, and he took a stride toward the man. The weasel shoved the woman aside and darted for the stairs.
"I couldn't give a shit less about your camera, you're in my house!" Wes shouted and followed him down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, Wes grabbed the camera strap and jerked the camera away from him. With violence in his every action, Wes snapped open the door on the side of the camera and popped out the storage card.
"Get. Out. Now," he ground out shoving the camera into the other man's chest. The card dug into his palm, as he squeezed it in his fist and glared at the man.
The woman came up behind him and said, "I'm going to sue you for damaging my equipment, and I'm calling the police. You assaulted me and my photographer."
"You are trespassing, lady, this is Texas, and that is enough for me to shoot you. The best thing you can do is take your man here and leave, before I do that."
"No fighting, daddy," Trey reminded, grabbing his arm.
Wes fought to corral his rampaging temper, then ground out. "Get out, and don't come back. If I see you again, I promise it will be through the sight on my rifle."
The woman's face blanched, and she grabbed the photographer's arm and pulled him out the front door. Wes stood at the door and watched the pair all but run toward the white van parked at the end of the driveway.
"They tricked me and said they were Miss Leigh Ann's friends. I'm sorry for letting them in, daddy," Trey said with regret and more than a little fear in his voice.
It pissed Wes off to hear that fear in his son's voice. Guilt shot through him, and then anger at the woman lying unconscious on his bathroom floor. She had brought this garbage to their doorstep, his ten-year-old should not be responsible for protecting her from the trash she invited to follow her by being a glory hound. It was Wes's job to protect Trey from that, and he was doing a crappy job of it right now.
"Not your fault, son...did you call grandma?" he asked as calmly as he could.
"Yeah, she's on her way."
Wes hugged his son to him, and said, "Meet her outside on the porch, and tell her I'll talk to her later."
"Okay..." Trey mumbled against his stomach. Wes hugged him tighter, because he loved his son more than life. He would do anything in the world he could do to protect him from the ugliness of life. And Wes's life right now was damned ugly.
Thanks to Leigh Ann Baker.
"I'll pick you up from grandma's house later."
"Is Miss Leigh Ann going to be okay?" Trey asked quietly.
"Yeah, she'll be fine," Wes assured him even though he wasn't sure at this point. If she didn't wake up coherent soon, he was going to either take her to the hospital or call an ambulance. "Go on, and I'll see you later."
Trey pulled back from him and took a step backward, then said, "Okay, daddy. Tell Miss Leigh Ann I..." Trey's eyes glittered, his mouth opened and shut a couple times, then he finished, "Tell her I hope she feels better soon." His eyebrows drew together and his mouth pinched. "Tell her..."
Wes stepped forward and pulled him against him roughly. Don't say it, please don't say it. "It's okay, Trey, just go with grandma, and stop worrying. I'll take care of her," he promised.
It was obvious to Wes that Trey was confused, Wes could see it on his son's face, hear it in his voice. Trey cared about Leigh Ann Baker, and Wes should have never let that happen. Worse was he let himself care about her too, and he was just as confused as his son, but he was going to fix that, just as soon as he could get Leigh Ann Baker out of their lives for good.
Leigh Ann's mouth felt like it was lined with cotton, as she opened her eyes to look at the ceiling of a room she recognized as the bathroom in Wes Jepson's upstairs bath. She went to sit up and moaned, then laid back on the cool tile floor. Her body felt like it had been baked in an oven for a few hours.
The last thing she remembered was falling asleep under the heavy canvas tarp she had pulled over herself in the back of Wes's pickup at the ranch. It had been damned hot, and she figured if she went to sleep, she wouldn't notice as much. Either she'd slept like the dead, or she had almost died. That is how she felt, she thought, laying her forearm over her eyes, taking deep even breaths into her aching lungs. Every part of her body ached, felt like she'd had a trek through the desert.
Hearing footsteps on the tile, Leigh Ann opened her eyes and saw Wes looming over her, his face angry and red, his fists clenched at his sides.
"You need
to go," he said gruffly, then leaned down to grab her arm. "I don't need this trouble in my life."
Hurt rifled through Leigh Ann, that had nothing to do with her physical ailments. "I'm sorry to inconvenience you by almost dying," she replied, her voice as shaky as her legs when she got them under her to stand.
"What the hell were you thinking getting in my truck and covering yourself up with a tarp in this kind of heat?" He asked her and put his hands on his hips to glare at her.
"I was thinking I needed to get the hell away from that ranch, and you wouldn't move your fucking truck, so I could do that," Leigh Ann hissed, then her hand flew to her mouth, as if she could shove the curse words back inside. The taste of soap on the end of her tongue reminded her that she didn't curse, like it had when her mother had used it on her when she was a kid and tried one of those words on for size.
Wes snorted then said angrily, "I would have thought you'd have been up on that porch beside your mother taking your due. Why hide when you instigated that circus?"
"I didn't--" she started and staggered back against the wall, feeling weak and wobbly.
Wes cut her off though. "You go into a bar with a Senator's wife, dressed like ya'll were and have men panting after you like dogs on a bone, and you didn't instigate that?"
Indignation gripped her, but Leigh Ann fought it and remembered her actions had started this ball rolling. She should never have gotten involved in that makeover, or she should have bailed out when she saw where Lou Ellen was leading them last night.
"I didn't know what was going on with her, when I gave her the makeover," Leigh Ann told him defensively, her voice raspy. "And going to that bar was not my idea."
"So they dragged you there? Didn't look like you were tied up to me."
"They didn't drag me, I went to try and keep them out of trouble...that didn't work out very well." That was the understatement of the century. Lou Ellen had been determined to stir the pot last night, and that pot had exploded all over them by the time Allison's husband had noticed they were there.
