When to Call a Cowboy

by June Faver

  Beau huffed out a sigh. “Yeah, but don’t worry. They’re a gay couple.” He stood with his thumbs threaded through his belt loops contemplating his own words.

  Big Jim made a scoffing noise deep in his throat. “Well, don’t that just beat all?”

  “Dixie says they adore Ava and have been very good to her too.”

  Big Jim rolled his eyes. “You don’t say? So these boys are both in the hospital?” He pulled himself to his feet and set his beer on a side table.

  “Apparently, the one who came with Dixie when she first came back—”

  “You mean that big jackass who attacked you out of the blue? That guy is gay?”

  “Yep. His boyfriend is a kind of nerdy guy. Dixie said he’s an accountant. He came to help her unscramble the feed store books.”

  “Lordy! What next?” He reached for a pair of tongs and lifted the lid of the barbecue grill. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “I could eat.”

  Big Jim grunted and uncovered a bowl of steaks that had been marinated and lovingly patted with his own special spice rub. He carefully placed each slab of meat on the grill rack and closed the lid. He eyed Beau before reaching for his beer. “So these city boys…what happened to ’em?”

  “Colt and I went to the feed store, and it seems the muscle guy got shot, but nobody heard a thing. So, that guy’s in pretty bad shape. The nerdy guy saw his boyfriend all bloody and took a nosedive onto a concrete walkway. Fainted dead away. His head was bandaged. They’re just keeping an eye on him, but for some reason, Dixie felt like she needed to hold his hand all night.”

  Big Jim made a few clucking sounds with his tongue and opened the grill. “Well, ya gotta give the girl points for loyalty. That’s all I gotta say about it.” With that he used the tongs to rearrange the steaks on the grill and closed the lid. “How about getting me another beer out of the cooler?”

  Beau selected a longneck for his father and one for himself. He flipped the caps off both and slapped one in Big Jim’s outstretched hand.

  After dinner, Leah gave Ava a bath and dressed her in one of Gracie’s outgrown nightgowns. When Ava was ready for bed, she held her arms up to Beau, and he felt his heart melt in his chest. So this is what being a father is all about.

  He picked her up, and she squeezed his neck with both arms.

  “Will you tuck me in?”

  Beau carried her to Gracie’s room and tucked her in. “Good night, princess.”

  “Where’s my mommy?” Ava’s blue eyes demanded an answer.

  He swallowed, searching for a way to soften the truth. “Uh, your mommy went to the hospital to keep a friend company. He—he got hurt.”

  “Who got hurt?”

  “A man named Roger…he had an accident.”

  She sat up straight. “Uncle Roger? He’s hurt?”

  “Um, just a little. He fell down and bumped his head.” At Ava’s quick intake of breath, he patted her shoulder. “He’s fine. The doctor is sending him home tomorrow.”

  Her lips trembled, and she looked like she was going to cry.

  “Don’t worry. Your mommy told me to take really good care of you tonight. She’s going to be here tomorrow, so go to sleep, and tomorrow will be here before you know it.” He smiled encouragingly.

  “Will you stay with me while I go to sleep?”

  Beau kissed her on the forehead and ended up rubbing her back until she was fast asleep. Yeah, I can get the hang of this daddy thing.

  * * *

  Roger slept soundly. A nurse had delivered his meds earlier, and now he lay on his back, snoring lightly, his mouth slightly agape.

  Dixie stood and tiptoed out of the room. She wanted to call Beau but knew it was too late. Her back was hurting from sitting for so many hours. She made her way to the cafeteria but found it mostly shut down. There were coffee, tea, milk, and various soft drinks. Her food choices were limited to dry cereals, wrapped sandwiches, chips, and a few tired-looking salads. She settled for a ham-and-cheese sandwich and a bottle of chocolate milk.

  The woman sitting on a stool beside the cash register barely looked up from her paperback novel to take Dixie’s money.

  She was the only person in the cafeteria, and she didn’t feel like eating in the empty void. Tucking her sandwich and drink in her purse, she walked down the silent hallway to the elevator.

  She stepped out on the second floor and followed signs to the area designated Intensive Care Unit. There was a little more activity here. At the nurses’ station, one woman in scrubs was industriously scribbling in a chart, while another chatted on the phone. Neither paid any attention to her.

  Dixie slowly made her way down the hall, noting the patient names inscribed by the doors. She swallowed hard when she found Scott’s name. Her throat seemed to have closed up, and she couldn’t draw a breath. Scott…

  “Miss?” The aide who had been on the phone appeared by her side.

  Dixie straightened her spine, pulling herself together. “My friend…how is he doing?”

  The aide’s lips tightened. “Are you family?”

  “Well, no…but he’s one of my best friends.”

  “You’ll have to talk to the charge nurse, but we can’t give any information out if you’re not his family.”

  Dixie nodded, her stomach roiling. “I—I just want to see him.” She stepped into the room, her gaze fastened on the inert figure on the bed. “He—he looks awful.”

  “I’ll get the charge nurse.” The aide pushed the call button, never taking her eyes off Dixie.

  Scott’s skin was ghastly pale. His usually robust color had faded away. He was sporting a breathing tube as well as an IV and a heart monitor.

  “Is he—is he going to die?” Dixie choked out the words.

  “Ma’am?” The charge nurse appeared at her side.

  “Scott? Is he going to die?”

  The charge nurse gave out a snort. “Not if we can help it. Are you a relative?”

  “I’m a close friend. His…” She swallowed again. “His fiancé was injured too and can’t be with him, so I’m just checking for his fiancé.”

  The nurse’s face reflected compassion. “Yes, dear. Well, perhaps you can talk to his doctor when he makes rounds tomorrow morning.” She made clucking noises with her tongue and then suddenly brightened. “But he’s young and was in remarkably good shape before the incident, so you tell his fiancée she’s a lucky girl and to just keep praying for his recovery.”

  Dixie stepped closer, reaching out a finger to stroke his arm. The one that wasn’t hooked up to the IV. She leaned close to his ear and spoke just above a whisper. “Scott, can you hear me? I’m telling you that you’ve got to live. There are so many people who love you. There’s me and Ava and Roger. We all need you to pull through.” She placed a kiss on his cool cheek. “We’re counting on you.”

  “Get some rest, miss. You can check on him tomorrow.”

  Dixie returned to Roger’s room without waking him. She ate her somewhat-dry sandwich, washing it down with the chocolate milk. The image of Scott’s pallid face was etched on her brain.

  * * *

  The next morning, Dixie jerked awake when a cheery nurse’s aide brought Roger’s breakfast tray.

  “Good morning,” she chirped, setting the tray on the overbed table before helping Roger to sit up and plumping his pillows. She took the cover off his plate and asked him if he needed anything else.

  Roger eyed her nervously and shook his head. When the young woman had gone, he gestured to the tray. “Do you want any of this? I don’t think I can eat a bite until I find out how Scott is.”

  “You need to eat, Roger.” Dixie stifled a yawn. “I checked on him a few hours ago, and he was hanging in there.”

  Roger gave her a weak smile.

  “Here, let me fix your cereal. Hot oa
tmeal. Do you want the butter and sugar in it?”

  He nodded, reminding Dixie of a petulant child.

  “And you have a poached egg and some ham. That looks wonderful.”

  He took the eating utensils from her. “I know what you’re doing. Just go find some breakfast for yourself, and I’ll do the best I can with this…this…” He waved his fork.

  “I’ll grab something and be back in a flash.” As soon as she cleared the room, her bright smile faded. She took the elevator to the ground floor and tromped to the cafeteria. The good news was that the aroma of freshly prepared food assailed her senses as soon as she pushed in the door. She ordered a couple of eggs over easy, toast, and coffee to go and paid with her debit card. Clutching the bag, she returned to the elevator and found herself pushing the button for the ICU floor. The doors opened silently. She stepped out and made her way back to Scott’s room, heaving a sigh of relief when she saw that his bed was still occupied. She had feared, most of all, returning to find the bed empty.

  Dixie glanced back over her shoulder, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to her. She slipped into the room and crossed to where Scott lay. He was still hooked up to an excess of wires and tubes. He had a breathing tube, and an IV, and leads were attached to his chest. Lights blinked, and something else pinged rhythmically. A machine displayed Scott’s heart rate and blood pressure.

  Good boy. Just keep blinking.

  She pulled the chair close and sat near Scott’s side. “Good morning, sunshine,” she said. “I brought my breakfast.” She held up the bag as though he could see it. “I would share, but you have to open your eyes first.”

  Scott’s chest was mostly covered with a large amount of bandage, but at the top, amid the proper amount of carefully manicured chest hair, she saw a couple of sutures closing an ugly dark-red line.

  A roiling of her gut squelched any desire for food, but she remembered her purpose and plastered on a smile as though he could see her through his closed eyelids.

  She opened the bag, took out the Styrofoam carton, and popped it open. “Yummy. I wish you could see how pretty my breakfast looks. Really fresh.” Her voice caught.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Startled, Dixie turned to see the blonde doctor leaning against the doorjamb, her arms crossed over her chest.

  Dr. Ryan from Langston. “Um, I just wanted to spend some time with my friend, Scott.”

  The doctor crossed the room and began to examine the inert patient. “Your friend, huh?”

  Dixie straightened her shoulders, feeling a little defensive. “Yes, Scott and I are friends.”

  The woman took Scott’s chart and opened it.

  “You may not remember me, but I brought Scott to you when he made the mistake of picking a fight with my—my boyfriend, Beau Garrett.” Dixie said.

  “Ah, yes. I remember. You’re Vernon Moore’s daughter. I’m Camryn Ryan.” She chuckled. “Or as some people around here think of me, I’m that young lawyer Breckenridge Ryan’s wife.”

  Dixie had to smile at that reference to the small town mentality. “Yes, I’m Dixie Moore.”

  “Your friend Scott is my patient.” She scribbled in the chart and flipped a page to read intently. “I understand his home is in Dallas?”

  “He came to help me. His—my other friend Roger is a CPA. I have an online business, so my bookkeeping system is not all that complicated. I needed some help trying to figure out my dad’s bookkeeping system, and Roger is brilliant.”

  “Good to have friends,” Dr. Ryan said absently. “Especially brilliant friends.”

  “Roger Parsons fell and hurt his head when he saw Scott lying there covered with blood.”

  Dr. Ryan glanced her way. “Another patient of mine. I expect to release Mr. Parsons this afternoon. I’ll be making rounds on his floor later.”

  Dixie sucked in a breath and pressed her lips together, steeling herself to ask the question she feared most. “Can you tell me about Scott? Is he—is he going to be okay?”

  “Your friend Scott is not out of the woods. I don’t want to give you false hope.”

  Dixie nodded, trying to stave off the threat of tears. “I’ll hope anyway.”

  Chapter 10

  “What’s wrong, Son?” Big Jim settled into a chair alongside Beau on their backyard deck.

  For his part, Beau’s face was drawn into a frown. “Nothing, Dad.”

  Big Jim snorted while simultaneously giving Beau a smack on the back of his head. “Don’t lie to your daddy, boy. Your face looks like you ate something that’s thinking about coming back up. I repeat, what’s wrong?”

  Beau released a lungful of air. He had been watching his five-year-old daughter play with his eight-year-old niece. “Just thinking.”

  Big Jim gestured to where the girls romped around under the trees. “That sight alone should bring a big grin to your face.”

  “Aw, it does. I’ve never been happier in my life. It’s just that…” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Somebody murdered Ava’s grandfather, and I don’t think that Sheriff Rollins is taking it seriously.”

  “Of course he is. How come you think he isn’t?” Big Jim leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee.

  “In light of the fact that Dixie’s friend got shot in broad daylight at the same store where Vern Moore was shot, you would think he would put two and two together.”

  “I’m sure he’s working on it.”

  “Don’t think so. I called the sheriff’s office this afternoon. Your friend Sheriff Rollins doesn’t see any connection between the two crimes. They’ve written off Vern Moore’s murder as a botched robbery, and they are suspicious of the guy from Dallas just because he’s a stranger from the city—even though he has a bullet hole in his chest.”

  “Damnation!” Big Jim exploded. “Ed Rollins may not be the brightest bulb in the drawer, but he’s a good man. He’ll figure it out eventually. It’s not your problem, Beau.”

  “Yes, it is. Anything that affects Dixie is my problem, and she’s in this up to her neck.”

  Big Jim’s bushy eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “You wouldn’t know she gave a darn about her father’s death. That little lady was cold as ice when she rolled into town for Vern’s funeral. You wouldn’t even know they were related from all the tears she shed.”

  Defending Dixie against his opinionated father’s condemnation was not a fight he could win. Beau pulled himself out of the chair without glancing back at Big Jim. “You don’t know Dixie,” he murmured as he strode across the yard to join the girls in their game of chase.

  * * *

  “All of this belongs to the Garretts?” Roger waved his hand to include the grazing land on both sides of the private road leading up to the Garrett household.

  Dixie made a scoffing noise in her throat. “This and much, much more. Big Jim owns thousands of acres of prime farmland. He has quite a herd of cattle, and he raises horses, most notably a line of beautiful black Arabian horses.”

  “Blah blah blah,” Roger intoned. “Sounds terribly boring to me.”

  Dixie patted him on the arm and slowed to pull up in front of the ranch house. “You just don’t appreciate the hard work it takes to put that steak on your plate. It’s really a wonderful life.”

  Roger turned to gape at her. “Your mother should hear you talking this way. She would wash your mouth out with soap.”

  Dixie’s mouth tightened. She wasn’t sure why her mother had lied to her, but she was too angry to confront her or to share her feelings, even with a friend. “Well, let me say that I had a pretty good childhood, and…and my dad had a lot to do with that.” She released her seat belt and swung out of the car before Roger could respond. She noted his surprised expression as she crossed in front of the car.

  Beau threw open the front door before Dixie had made it t
o the porch.

  “There’s my girl.” He met her halfway with a bear hug that lifted her off her feet. “Missed you.” The kiss he planted on her may have melted the polish off her toenails.

  “Whoa, cowboy,” she breathed, crushed against his hard torso.

  “Our daughter missed you too.” He set her on her feet, and then his gaze settled on the man sitting in the car. “Is that the guy who was in the hospital? He looks sorta irked.”

  “That’s just Roger. He has mastered the art of being irked.” She turned to give Roger a finger wave. “Mostly, he’s a great fan of my mother’s…mostly because she fawns over him and cooks goodies for Scott and him.”

  Beau lifted a hand to wave at the man in the car too but received no response.

  “Where is Ava?”

  “Ava is out back. Let’s go surprise her.” Beau led her into the house and through to the backyard.

  Big Jim stood up when he saw her. “Hello, Dixie. It’s sure been a pleasure having Ava with us.” He cleared his throat. “Gonna miss that little sweetheart around here.”

  Dixie forced a smile. “I’m sure she’s enjoyed herself. Thanks for taking care of her.”

  “No thanks needed. I hope both of you can think of this as your second home.”

  Her stomach twisted in anger or confusion, she couldn’t tell which. This just didn’t agree with her mother’s version of things. “I appreciate it, Big Jim.” She turned to Beau, who appeared to be enjoying the exchange. “Where’s Ava?”

  He gestured to the backyard where Ava was running with two older children, a girl and a boy. The sound of her daughter’s laughter was like a curative to her troubled mind. For a moment, all three adults stood on the covered back deck, grinning in unison at the carefree sight.

  Ava spotted Dixie and squealed, “Mommy!” She ran straight across the length of the yard and into Dixie’s open arms. “Mommy, I missed you.”

  “I missed you too, my precious girl.” Dixie buried her face in Ava’s hair, noting a different scent. “Who washed your hair?”

  “Aunt Leah. She let me wear Gracie’s clothes. They’re too little for Gracie now.” She turned to wave at the two children who stood silently regarding her from the far end of the yard. “But they fit me just right.” She smoothed the fabric of her shirt.