by Finch, Carol
Deb was silent for a moment. “Why does Chance have to leave at all? Knowing how you and Zack feel about him, I thought perhaps—”
“Don’t go getting all romantic on me,” Alexa cut in. “I care too much about Chance to ask him to sacrifice his personal ambitions. I told you, he’s damn good at what he does. Although he’s modest about his accomplishments, he is the rodeo superstar Dan dreamed of being. And besides my refusal to tie Chance down, considering he even wanted to be, there is Howard to contend with. My father-in-law operates from a position of power here. He never lets me forget that.”
Alexa gave her head a decisive shake. “No, I will not even allow myself to entertain such whimsical possibilities. When I made the decision to borrow money against my half of the ranch to build the bed-and-breakfast I locked myself in for the duration. I can’t leave Rocking T and Chance can’t stay.”
Deb leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on her knees. “Falling in love is for the birds, isn’t it, sis? It hits when you least expect it and tangles up your life.”
Alexa did a double take. “You and Harvard...I mean Kurt?”
Reluctantly, Deb nodded. “I never wanted to let a man close enough that I could get hurt, in case things didn’t work out. After losing our parents, after watching the way Dan ignored your affection for him, I vowed to avoid the pain of caring too much. I watched you wrap up your feelings and stash them away, then go through the paces of handling your responsibilities. Even when you fell for Chance Butler, you refused to let yourself put any hopes or expectations in the situation.
“In my own way, I guess I packed my emotions in storage.” Deb chuckled humorously as she slouched in the chair. “Keep it light, I told myself. Don’t take men, or yourself, seriously. But I swear, watching Kurt with his patients, especially with you, got to me. The compassion he offered me while I was so distressed about your condition got to me. I’ve seen too much good in him. Too much competence and tenderness. The fact that he changed his preppy image to fit into our rural community so he could put me and his patients at ease was touching, too.
“How the heck did this happen? I was going merrily on my way, and then wham! Suddenly I’m getting this warm, fuzzy feeling every time I see the man.”
Alexa knew that sensation all too well. Although she knew she was cranky and irritable because of her extended hospital stay, she got this funny little tingle each evening when Chance arrived for a visit. His attentiveness, his concern for her tugged at her heartstrings. The way he kept a constant, protective watch on Zack stirred her deeply.
Half the time, Dan had been so wrapped up in his own world that he didn’t know his son was underfoot, expected Alexa to be the only caregiver. But Chance treated Zack as if he was important, as if the boy’s presence was welcomed and wanted. Chance had strengthened his sense of security and self-confidence by noticeable degrees.
Lord, Alexa and Zack were going to need time to recover from Chance’s absence. He had made such a strong impression, such a drastic difference in their lives.
“Well, sis, I don’t have time to sit here pouring my heart out to you. I need to open my shop. I have several consignment orders coming in this morning and book work to do.” Deb strode over to give Alexa a sisterly hug. “Try not to be so cranky. Kurt says you’re progressing well, physically speaking. A few more days and you can go home...if you sign a sworn statement that you’ll stay off ladders and never go near electrical circuits, that is.”
“Believe me,” Alexa muttered, staring at her plastercoated arm, “I won’t be able to stuff an appliance plug into an electrical outlet for years without remembering what a shocking experience it can be. Chester already stopped by to inform me that he and Chance installed the ceiling fans and that I have been fired as apprentice electrician.”
“Good. Electricity is definitely not your true calling in life.” Deb waved goodbye on her way out the door. “See you after work, sis.”
Alexa lounged on her bed, twiddling her thumbs. Despite doctor’s orders, she knew she needed to pay Howard a visit. Whether he would be happy to see her wasn’t the issue. They were family, in spite of their conflicts, and families stuck together.
Although Kurt reported that Howard was recovering nicely, Alexa needed to see for herself, to assure the old man that she was concerned about his condition.
Alexa levered herself onto the edge of the bed, devoured the chocolate-covered doughnuts Deb had sneaked in via her oversize purse, then grabbed her crutches. She had to apologize to Howard for causing the stress and shock that incited his heart attack. He might not accept her apology, but she needed to give it.
“Good gawd, woman, you look like hell!” Howard croaked when Alexa hobbled into his room. His astonished gaze swept over her, lingering on her burned hands, her plaster cast, then dropped to her bandaged ankle. “It’s a wonder you survived. When I first got a look at you that day I didn’t think you’d make it. I thought...I’d lost you....”
Alexa stopped in her tracks when the old man’s voice cracked. He was afraid he’d lost her? Did he really mean that? Did he actually see her as more than chief cook, bottle washer and hired hand at Rocking T?
“I’m so sorry I alarmed you with my stupid stunt,” she apologized. “Regaining consciousness to discover that I’d caused you to collapse was as bad as suffering from electrical shock.”
Howard squirmed uncomfortably on the bed, then fiddled with the cords that monitored his heartbeat. He looked pale, drawn, uneasy.
“I’m not upsetting you by paying this visit, am I?” Alexa asked.
“No, no. Sit down and take a load off your leg. You shouldn’t be moving around, not by the looks of you.”
Howard was worried about her? Stunned, Alexa sank into the chair. Was this the same man who had accused her of betraying his son’s memory, who had refused to speak to her after he saw her with Chance?
“I’ve been...um...meaning to thank you for putting up with me all these years,” Howard mumbled awkwardly. “I know I’m not an easy man to live with. I’m used to doing things my way, on my own terms, and all that.”
Alexa’s mouth dropped open far enough for a quail to roost. Her eyes popped.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Howard scowled, then shifted uneasily on the bed. He refused to meet her astounded gaze. “When Chance Butler barged in here to inform me that he had appointed himself king of Rocking T for the duration of my hospital stay, he said I should spend some time thinking about all the things you’ve done for me.”
“He said that?” she chirped.
Howard nodded his balding head, but he didn’t glance in Alexa’s direction. “The man’s got gumption, I’ll give him that. Just limped in here, took over and had the nerve to lecture me.”
Alexa winced, wondering if Howard had suffered a setback after Chance’s unexpected visit. She wouldn’t be surprised. Chance Butler wasn’t one of Howard’s favorite people nowadays.
The old man leaned over to retrieve an envelope from the top drawer of the nightstand. “Butler dropped by yesterday to deliver the check from the stockyards. He sold some steers for me. I double-checked with the stockyards to see if he sold any cattle under his name.”
“And?” Alexa prompted, holding her breath.
“And he hauled fifty head of cattle to Willowvale’s stockyards in my trailer and had fifty head sold in my name.”
Alexa waited for Howard to finally meet her gaze. “He’s an honest man, Howard. He has been nothing but kind, considerate and helpful since he showed up at Rocking T.”
Howard nodded as he stared at the check in his hand. “So it seems. But Dan pulled that scam on me a couple of times when he was running low on cash for his rodeo tours. He didn’t bother to ask me if I minded giving him a cut of the profit. He just took it.”
To her recollection, this was the first time Howard had mentioned one of Dan’s failing graces since his death. There had been nothing but glowing praise since the traffic accident. Fin
ally, Howard had accepted the fact that Dan was human, that he had flaws that caused previous hard feelings.
“Dan did...um...a lot of things I didn’t approve of—”
Howard’s voice dried up, and Alexa realized how difficult it was for Howard to admit that. His one and only son was nowhere near close to perfect. Chance Butler showed Howard more consideration and respect than Dan had. Dan’s continuous complaint that Howard could have been more financially generous than he was had never set well with Alexa. She got the impression Dan thought his father owed him financial support, even though Dan wasn’t home often enough to help with chores and resolve crises.
“Dan wasn’t the kind of husband you deserved, either,” Howard murmured.
Alexa gaped at Howard, aware of the mist in his eyes. Did he know Dan had been unfaithful to her? She had never flung the fact in the old man’s face, not even when she was exasperated with him.
“There were a few times that I thought my loyalty to Dan was disregarded,” she said carefully.
Howard dipped his head slightly. “It’s hard for an old man like me to admit that he’s been wrong. I threw Dan’s memory in your face constantly. I appeared to take you for granted, because I—”
His voice cracked as he clutched at his chest. When his face lost all color and his shoulders shook, Alexa clambered from her chair, ignoring the sharp pain that shot up her leg.
“Howard, are you all right? Do you want me to call a nurse?”
His chest rose and fell. His breath came in ragged spurts. “I can’t talk about this anymore. Get somebody in here. I’m not feeling well.”
Despite her own injuries, Alexa hopped to the door on one leg to summon assistance. Mildred Whitmier and her assistant barreled down the hall the instant they heard Alexa’s frantic call.
“How’d you get down here, young lady?” Mildred muttered as she whizzed past Alexa. “Dr. Stevenson hasn’t given you permission to be up and around until he’s certain you aren’t suffering side effects from your concussion. You can’t take another fall in your condition.”
“Howard can’t breathe,” Alexa put in quickly. “Make sure he’s all right.”
The nurses swarmed toward Howard, who gasped and sputtered for breath. Alexa clamped herself against the door as Mildred stuffed an oxygen mask over the old man’s whitewashed face.
“Don’t even think about giving up, Howard,” Alexa ordered through the stream of tears. “We need each other. You know that, don’t you? Zack needs you, too.”
Despite his sputters and gasps, Alexa saw Howard’s gaze swing to her. He stared at her, as if there was more he wanted to say—and couldn’t.
Alexa fretted all the way back to her room. She seemed to have the disconcerting knack of upsetting Howard—no matter how good her intentions. Clearly, her visit caused a setback. But no matter what their conflicts through the years, she had never wished ill to him. Would never wish ill to him.
Even though he stood firmly between any relationship she might have had with Chance, she would never sacrifice Howard for her personal happiness. Never! She couldn’t have lived with herself if she contemplated such a morbid possibility.
That old man had become a substitute father after her own father was killed in the plane crash. Howard had always been there to protect her, even though he got carried away with his possessiveness at times.
If Howard died...Alexa squeezed her eyes shut and maneuvered into bed. He damned well better not check out! If he got to thinking that was the easiest way to keep from acknowledging the affection she felt for Chance, the affection Zack felt for Chance...
The frantic thought put Alexa right back on her feet. She had to reassure Howard that nothing would change—that she refused to let it change. That was what Howard wanted and needed—to know that he was important to her.
If Alexa had to choose, she knew she had to choose Howard. He had to know that, so he wouldn’t hang it all up and let this heart condition get the better of him.
By the time Alexa wobbled down the hall, using the wall for support, Mildred and her aide had Howard resting comfortably. The mask was still in place, the oxygen machine hissing and spitting to break the silence.
“Howard, can you hear me?” Alexa braced herself in the doorway.
Howard open his eyes and stared at her.
“I think you already realize that I’m in love with Chance Butler. I didn’t want it to happen, didn’t expect it to happen, but it did. But there’s something else you should know, Howard,” she went on hurriedly. “If I have to choose between you and him, I’ll choose you. We need each other. When we get out of here, things will be as they have always been. That is something you can count on. Do you understand what I’m saying, Howard? What I want doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving you—ever.”
Alexa didn’t realize tears were streaming down her cheeks until after she’d said her piece. The words caused her belly to twist in knots. She was forsaking Chance, casting aside her love for Chance, in order to reassure Howard. Speaking the words caused a riptide of conflicting emotions to whirl through her. She was betraying the one man who had placed her needs above his own when she desperately needed assistance. And yet she knew she would feel the same way if it were Chance lying there in life-threatening condition. She would have betrayed Howard to save Chance, too. But it was Chance who was the stronger of the two men, Chance who had the will to live.
“You have to get better, Howard,” she sobbed, feeling as if she were being pulled in two directions at once, torn apart by contrasting affections. “Do you hear me, Howard?”
He closed his eyes. No sound penetrated the silence, except the oxygen tank’s methodical cadence—and Alexa’s wailing soul crying out in anguish.
Alexa turned away, swiping at the tears. In order to save the old man’s life, to provide him with the will to live, she had sacrificed her own chance at fulfillment and happiness. But she owed Howard for the years of support. Dan might have turned his back on his own father, but Alexa couldn’t. And she was dying on the inside, knowing the man she could have loved forever could never be a part of her life.
The kitchen was a disaster. It looked as if a flour bomb had exploded on the counter. Cookie ingredients were everywhere—the sink, the floor, the handle on the stove, in Chance and Zack’s hair and on the front of their shirts. The first batch of cookies was in the trash, burned beyond recognition.
Chance and Zack’s efforts were better the second time around—at least, the cookies weren’t burned to a crisp. They were tough as leather, however. Chance was sure Zack had gotten carried away when measuring the flour. Either that or the boy had used a short cup of Crisco. But nonetheless, Zack was beaming in culinary triumph. He had a container of chocolate chip cookies to deliver to his mother.
“Ready to go, Chance?” Zack questioned as he scooped up the plastic container, then headed for the door.
“Whoa, half-pint,” Chance called after him. “You can’t go to the hospital dressed like that. You look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy.”
Zack gave himself a quick perusal, then dusted flour off his shirt and jeans. “There. Clean as a whistle.”
Chance begged to disagree. “You go barging into the hospital with white specks on your arms and face and the nurses might think you’ve contracted some rare disease. Can’t have you holed up in the hospital, now can we? Who would help me with all these chores? Certainly not Pecos. He’s still waddling around like a lame duck.”
Zack surveyed his bespeckled arms. “You think I look diseased?”
Chance grinned. “Unclean, at the very least. You know how particular those nurses are about sanitary conditions for their patients. I think I prefer to shower at home than take a chance of being mopped with disinfectant.” He unbuttoned his soiled shirt on the way down the hall. “Don’t know about you, rookie, but I’m going to shower before we deliver the cookies.”
To Chance’s relief, Zack beat him upstairs to shower and change. Chuckling, Chance amb
led into Alexa’s private bathroom. A man had to stay on his toes if he wanted to reason with a kid.
Forty-five minutes later, Zack was scurrying down the hospital hall, his Air Jordan tennis shoes squeaking with each hurried step. The kid was so proud of his culinary accomplishment that he was about to pop. Chance watched in amusement as Zack burst into his mother’s room. The kid wore a smile that stretched from the eastern border of Oklahoma to the tip of the panhandle.
“We made cookies to make you feel better, Mom,” Zack announced.
Chance stopped in his tracks when he noted the lackluster in Alexa’s eyes, the bleak expression that bracketed her mouth. His pulse stalled out. He knew something was dreadfully wrong.
It was amazing how he had come to read Alexa’s moods as if he had radar. He detected her inner turmoil, felt it vibrate through him as if it were his own.
Although Alexa mustered a smile for Zack’s benefit, Chance noticed that it didn’t begin to reach her eyes. “You baked cookies for me?” she asked, her voice wobbly.
Chance’s concern intensified, but he hung back, hoping Zack’s arrival would lift Alexa’s flagging spirits.
“Me and Chance...Chance and I,” he corrected himself hastily, “baked them just for you. But don’t worry, Mom, we’ll clean up the mess in the kitchen before I go to bed tonight.”
Her dull-eyed gaze swung to Chance, then flitted away. He couldn’t imagine why she couldn’t meet his eyes. It was as if she had committed some terrible sin against him and couldn’t bear her own guilt, or the prospect of his reaction. My God, what had happened!
Chance battled the overwhelming urge to scoop Alexa in his arms and assure her that whatever disturbed her could be handled satisfactorily. He would solve whatever problem she faced. He would make everything right—somehow.
While Zack reported on his schoolday—hour by hour—then rattled on about how he had been picked first when the third-graders chose teams in gym class, Chance held up the wall, remaining in the background. Zack was still babbling like a brook when the announcement that visiting hours were over interrupted him.
