by Leigh Duncan
“He’s in the day room.” An attendant with an armful of linens pointed toward the bright, airy room where a dulcimer band entertained the residents on Tuesday nights.
Kelly blinked. The gathering spot was beautifully appointed, but so far, her grandfather hadn’t been aware enough of his surroundings to care. “When Noelle shows up, could you tell her where I went?”
“Sure thing.” The attendant plopped clean sheets on the side table. She grabbed the remote and lowered the volume on the TV.
Kelly’s boot heels sent tiny bursts of sound bouncing off the walls of corridors wide enough to accommodate wheelchairs and walkers. A hollow spot opened in her heart as she trailed her fingers along the handrail the doctors said her grandfather would never be well enough to use. At the door to the day room, she paused, her hand on the doorjamb. His broken leg propped on an extension, her grandfather snoozed in his wheelchair while around him other patients played board games or worked jigsaw puzzles on sturdy tables. Surprised that he’d improved enough to sit upright, she looked closer. Sure enough, thick bands belted him in place.
She crossed the room and pulled a chair up beside him. “Pops?” she whispered. “How are you doing today?”
Unlike other times when he’d slept through her entire visit, Paul snorted. He managed to raise his head, though it listed to one side. He looked at her, and in that second, Kelly prayed for recognition, for some sign that he knew who she was. A soft sigh escaped her lips when he stared past her. Disappointment coated the back of her throat, and her voice stretched thin. They’d never had the chance to heal the breach between them. From the look of things, they never would. Kelly gulped. Working to summon up enthusiasm, she brought him up to date on all that was going on at the ranch.
She wasn’t sure how much of her talk he absorbed, but she kept at it. She was nearly finished when Noelle bounded into the room with all the exuberance of youth. Her fast pace, in a room where people normally moved slower than snails, caught the attention of every eye—including Pops’s.
Though his right side remained immobile, a crooked smile stretched across his thin lips. His good eye brightened. He thumped the arm of his wheelchair with his left hand.
“Cay-ee,” he croaked. “Cay-ee.”
Kelly stared in disbelief as she glanced from Noelle to her grandfather. It couldn’t be. She brushed the thought away as Noelle slid into an empty chair on her grandfather’s good side.
“Hi, Pops,” she said. “Look who’s awake.”
“Cay-ee, ay yoo faa cwa?” Paul stared expectantly at the young girl.
“Whatever, Pops.” Noelle shrugged without any sign of malice. “I brought you a popsicle.” She shot a look at Kelly. “I asked the nurse. She said it was okay.”
Plastic crackled. More gently than Kelly could have imagined, Noelle held the cold treat to Paul’s lips. His mouth dropped open like a baby bird’s. Red liquid dribbling from one side of his mouth, the old man chortled and chewed.
Kelly grabbed a handful of wipes from a nearby dispenser. While Noelle jabbered on about school and new friends, they took turns feeding and blotting. By the time they finished, streaks smeared his shirt, but Pops was more alert than he’d been since the stroke.
They’d barely finished when the attendant came to wheel him to his room for dinner.
“Looks like you’ve already had dessert,” she joked, unlocking the wheels. “That’s a very pretty granddaughter you have, Mr. Tompkins.”
Kelly started to correct the caretaker, but stopped when the world shifted under her feet. She shook her head, trying to make sense of her grandfather’s reaction to Noelle.
“Gotta go now, Pops. Don’t you give the nurses a hard time while we’re gone.” Noelle bent to kiss Paul’s sparse white hair.
Later, Kelly wasn’t quite sure how her grandfather managed to reach out his good hand. Work-hardened fingers wrapped around Noelle’s wrist. A hoarse whisper rose from his chest. “Iy luh yoo, Cay-ee. Luh yoo.”
The girl blinked and held her ground, but Kelly nearly lost it as her own mind connected all the dots. Noelle’s resemblance to her at that age was nothing short of uncanny, so it was small wonder Paul had mistaken the child for her younger self.
But he loved her? After all these years, he’d finally said it out loud?
Reluctant to leave, she trailed slowly behind her grandfather’s wheelchair as the attendant moved him back to his room. Kelly waited until the staff settled their patient in his bed. She lingered, hoping he’d say something more. Instead, the squeak of rubber-soled shoes on the tiled floor outside the room was the only sound she heard, until a nurse at the door cleared her throat. Kelly turned toward her.
“Ms. Tompkins, do you have a minute?” She spared a pointed look at Noelle. “Alone?”
She had been so focused on her grandfather that it took a second for the woman’s request to sink in. When it did, Kelly dug in her purse for change. “Why don’t you get something from the machines, honey,” she suggested, handing the money to Noelle. At the last minute, she added, “Anything but candy.”
“They have chips.”
The nurse waited until Noelle was halfway down the long corridor before she spoke again. “Ms. Tompkins, we’re very concerned about your grandfather.”
“Really?” she asked, surprised. “He seems so much better.” Hadn’t he just said the words she’d waited half a lifetime to hear? Apparently, the effort had tired him out, because Paul had fallen asleep, his head tipped forward, his chin on his chest. Kelly fingered a lock of her loose hair. “I’d swear he recognized us today. That’s a first.”
“We see this sort of thing from time to time. A patient will make what seems to be remarkable improvement. Too often, it’s short-lived. Worse, it’s sometimes a precursor to another event.”
Kelly stilled. “You mean another stroke?”
The nurse’s bare lips thinned. “In his weakened condition, the results might be catastrophic.”
How could things get any worse? Her grandfather already needed round-the-clock care. Kelly sucked her lower lip between her teeth as she weighed the costs of another visit to the hospital and even more intensive therapy. Would selling the ranch be enough?
She drew in a deep breath. The only way she could swing more expensive care would be to get back to Houston as soon as possible. She’d worked hard to climb the ladder of success at Palmetto Boots and, even though she didn’t always appreciate the long hours and impossible schedules, she had to take care of the man who’d finally admitted his love for her. She had to.
Chapter Nine
Flames crackled and smoke rose from the campfire. While marshmallows roasted on long sticks and the golden sun sank into purple clouds, Hank picked a few bluegrass tunes on his dad’s old banjo. The sky was inky black and dotted with a million tiny stars by the time Josh warned everyone to look sharp as they covered the final leg to the Barlowe ranch. At first, Hank thought the boy had happened on a nest of rattlers during his survey. He swallowed a laugh when it turned out the kid was gaga over the endangered birds he’d found and didn’t want anyone to disturb their nests.
But once the last gooey s’more had disappeared, Emma and her kitchen staff loaded up the chuck wagon. Ty carried a sleeping Jimmy to his truck, and the convoy pulled out. One by one, the ranch hands said their good nights and turned in.
Beside him, Noelle leaned her head on his shoulder. Hank slipped an arm around his daughter and drank in the moment. One minute, Noelle had been going on about Riley Mattox’s upcoming sleepover. The next, she’d given up the fight to keep her eyes open. She squirmed closer, and he smiled. He turned to the slender blonde sitting nearby, her fingers wedged between her knees.
“Looks like she finally conked out,” Kelly murmured.
“Best get her tucked in,” he said, rising. After a full day on horseb
ack, Noelle had surprised them all by staying awake as long as she had. But there’d be another long ride tomorrow and, at the end of it, a barbeque and dance. The child needed a good night’s sleep or she’d be too grumpy to enjoy the fun. Hank scooped the featherweight girl into his arms before he pinned Kelly with a questioning glance.
“You gonna stick around a while longer?” He wasn’t sure how he managed to sound so normal considering how much he had been looking forward to spending some alone time with her.
“I’ll be here. We can talk.”
Talking was good. Kissing was better. Maybe they’d do some of both, he thought, as several long strides took him to the tent the girls would share for the night. He settled Noelle on her cot and zipped the sleeping bag closed around her while he tried to figure out what Kelly considered so important they couldn’t spend the time lost in each other’s arms. Lately, he’d caught her staring off into the distance as if she had a big decision to make. Had she changed her mind about selling the Bar X? He shoved the ridiculous idea aside. She’d never undercut him like that, not after all the work he’d put in to fixing up the place. Especially not with a potential buyer flying down to see the ranch next week. But what did she want to talk about? Their past? Their future?
Uncertainty rumbled through his chest as he lowered himself onto the log beside her.
“You get Noelle all settled in?” Kelly asked.
“She didn’t even blink. Just rolled over. She was snoring away before I even closed the tent flap.” Luckily, the cold front had knocked off the worst of the mosquitoes. Otherwise, heavy canvas or no, they’d all have been pretty miserable.
“Girls don’t snore.” Kelly poked his ribs.
“I’m sorry to inform you, but this one does.” He caught her offending finger and brought it to his lips. “She has since the day we brought her home from the hospital.”
When Kelly’s eyes darkened, he tried telling himself his touch had caused the change. Problem was, the simple explanation didn’t fit. He rolled his shoulders while she took the lead.
“You and Amy were still together?” she asked. “I wasn’t sure how long the two of you stuck it out.”
The past.
Hank stretched his legs toward the fire. “Things were rocky. I tried chalking it up to the pregnancy. I hoped once the baby came, everything would smooth out. I was wrong.” He planted his hands behind him on the log. Leaning back, he let his arms take the weight of his upper body. “Our problems only got worse from the moment we brought Noelle home. I stood it as long as I could.” He hesitated. He’d never told anyone—not his dad, certainly not his brothers—the whole sordid story. “Noelle was three months old when I found out Amy had taken up with an old boyfriend.”
Kelly sucked in a breath.
Hank held out a hand. “It wasn’t entirely her fault. In a way, I’d been cheating on her all along.”
When confusion drew Kelly’s eyebrows together, he rushed to explain. “Amy knew I never loved her. Not the way I loved you. The way I still do.”
In his dreams, this was where Kelly moved into his arms and they sealed their commitment to one another. But life did its usual excellent job of throwing cold water on his fantasies. Instead of smothering him with kisses and I-love-you-too’s, she tugged her braid between her fingers the way she always had when worry overwhelmed her.
“But you left Noelle.”
He took a breath. “That wasn’t my decision. Amy threw me out when I demanded a paternity test. Noelle is mine,” he added firmly.
“Of course she is.” Kelly stared at him. She gave her hair another tug. “But you left your daughter behind? How could you do that?”
“I’m not proud of it, but yeah.” He rubbed his chest, where the pain of the choices he’d made still lingered. “Amy’s family comes from old money. They have battalions of lawyers on retainer. It was clear real quick that I wasn’t going to get custody. No matter what. Besides, a baby needs her mother.” Even in his own ears, his excuses sounded lame.
He sucked down enough air to finish the story. “Amy took Noelle and moved in with her parents. To save money, I sold our house myself. Turned out, real estate was something I was good at. Before you could say ‘Brahman bull,’ I’d earned my license, opened up one office, then another. The hours were long and hard, but with the money I earned I could afford to send Noelle to private school, give her the best of everything.” His shoulders slumped. “It took my dad’s death before I realized money was a poor substitute for seeing my daughter take her first steps, hearing her say her first words.”
The band at the end of Kelly’s braid snapped. She worked her fingers through the thick blond plaits. “All this time I thought you’d abandoned your daughter because you didn’t want her.” She seemed to shrink. Her voice dropped so low the crackling flames nearly devoured it. “The way you didn’t want our baby.”
“No, Kel,” he protested. “That’s not true.”
“But you blamed me. You said I’d ruined your life.”
Nausea rolled through him. He’d gone over that day a thousand times, wishing he could go back and change the past. But the news had hit him hard, and he’d reacted like a stupid teenager who’d just seen all his plans for the future stampede over a cliff. An hour later, he’d realized his mistake, but by then, he’d broken her heart, betrayed her trust in him.
“I didn’t mean it, Kelly. You were my life. You could never ruin it.”
Light from the fire reflected off the angry tears gathering in Kelly’s eyes. She glared at him. “You were glad when I found out I wasn’t pregnant. Don’t try to deny it.”
The air left him so quickly it whistled through his teeth. His throat thickened. “Yeah. Okay. For eight seconds, it felt like the weight of the world had been taken off my shoulders. A wife, a baby—I wasn’t ready. At seventeen, who would be? But I know now that we would have made it work, Kel,” he said, insistent. “We loved each other.”
“I loved you. I wasn’t sure you loved me. The minute I told you I was late, you started pulling away from me.”
The urge to make this right between them, once and for all, filled him. Once the initial shock had worn off, he’d known what he’d needed to do—get a job and support his family. He clasped her cold fingers and felt them tremble. “I see now how it must have looked, but I was working, Kel. Scrounging for every nickel I could get my hands on. If there were stalls to muck, I mucked ’em. If there were fences to repair, I fixed ’em. I picked up every odd job I could find, did everything I could to make enough money to take care of you, of us. I talked to Dad about working full-time on the Circle P after high school.”
Misery painted her cheeks with more tears, but she met his gaze. “You never said a word.”
“I didn’t think I needed to. We loved each other. We were gonna have a baby.” Only things hadn’t turned out the way he’d thought they would. He shrugged. “We never talked about what happened. How you...lost it.”
Kelly’s voice steadied. “My grandfather found out that I was pregnant. He flew into a rage. He’d always had a temper, but I’d never seen him so angry. He said all kinds of vile, hurtful things. About me. About you. That night, I miscarried.”
Not a breath of air rustled through the palm fronds. The flames in the fire pit died down. The stillness stretched out, unbroken. Hank tried to breathe. His lungs refused to cooperate. As much as he wanted to draw Kelly to him, his arms hung from his shoulders like lead weights. His heart slowed until each beat reverberated through his chest.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have—”
“—blamed me the way he did?” Kelly swallowed. She stared down at her lap. More tears pooled in her eyes until they seeped from the corners and ran down her cheeks. “I was so messed up,” she whispered between quiet sobs. “Pregnant. Scared to death. Then the baby was gone and my gra
ndfather was ranting and raving about how I’d let him down. I didn’t know what to do, where to turn. So, I did the only thing I could. I told you I never wanted to see you again. I thought maybe Pops would get over being mad at me, but he never did. Then, you went off rodeoing and married Amy. And Pops kicked me out anyway.”
Hank struggled to his feet. At first, his legs shook like a newborn calf’s and he wasn’t sure he could move. Somehow, he made it as far as the other side of the clearing. He stared into the inky blackness beyond the campfire, his fists clenched. He wished there was someone or something he could punch. His thoughts collided. She was wrong. He’d never have left her. He turned to tell her as much.
Kelly sat, her shoulders hunched, right where he’d left her.
He hurried to her side and swept her into his arms. “I’m sorry. So sorry,” he groaned. “I wish I’d been a better person. I wish you could’ve trusted me. We couldn’t have changed the outcome, but at least we’d have had each other.”
“Can you forgive me?”
He stared into her doubt-filled eyes. She wasn’t the one who needed forgiveness. He did, and he had one chance, only one, to convince her. On ranches across the country, boys dreamed of making it to Las Vegas for the National Rodeo Championship. His brother Colt had been good enough to go all the way. Hank had planned to follow in the older Judd’s bootsteps.
“You remember when I won the Junior Division?” He’d competed all year for the grand prize, a handcrafted saddle. “I wanted to buy you an engagement ring, but as hard as I worked, I didn’t have enough money. I sold the saddle the day after you told me you might be pregnant. I planned to ask you to marry me the night of the senior prom, but...” His voice whispered into nothingness.
“By then I’d lost the baby and we’d broken up.”
Firelight reflected off Kelly’s shimmering tears. He wanted nothing more than to brush them away, along with all her regrets. And all of his. He leaned down, grazing her forehead with a kiss.
