Claiming the Texan's Heart

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  She held up her work. “This is a baby blanket. It’s going to be blue and white, and warm enough for winter’s chill.”

  “It better not be for me,” he said darkly. “Sara, I’m a man, not beholden to anyone.”

  “This blanket is for one of the babies at the orphanage. There are never enough warm things. And I know you’re a man, Josiah, but you know you’re hiding here when you should just express your opinion to your sons. If you don’t want to have the kidney operation, then say so.” She went on with her knitting serenely. “In the meantime, you can’t stay here forever.”

  “I can’t?” Josiah had gotten used to the comfort and peace of Sara’s home in the past few days. He’d gotten used to the calm way she went about her business. In his mind, he’d envisioned himself living here until the end of his days.

  She shook her head. “No, you can’t. Not until you straighten your life out with your children.”

  She was still worried someone would think he’d been coerced into marrying her. She didn’t understand that no one had ever made him do a thing he didn’t want to. When Gisella had left him, there hadn’t been a durn thing he could do about that, but still, that had been Gisella’s choice. He’d always respected her decision, knowing he’d been at fault. But that hadn’t been coercion; he’d become a single father because he’d been a bit of a ham-handed dunce. “Are you saying that once I tell everyone I don’t want the surgery, that what I want is to get married, you’ll marry me?”

  She stopped knitting and looked at him. “Josiah, I would marry you if you were going to be around a while.”

  “Nothing’s certain in life.”

  “I know that. But you seem determined to have an expiration date stamped on you, and it’s hard for me to want to get married knowing that.” She swallowed, chose her words carefully. “Don’t ask me to care about you and then say goodbye to you in less than a year.”

  She had a point. Suddenly, he didn’t want that, either. It would be horrible, holding her at night, watching the stars with her, seeing the sun come up in the morning with Sara, and knowing each sunrise might be his last.

  “I still don’t want to do it,” he said quietly. “My son is reckless. He’ll always be a hell-raiser. Sara, you don’t know my boy, but Jack... Jack deserves the chance at the kind of full life I’ve had. And nothing’s ever going to stop him from rodeoing, not even being minus a kidney.”

  “You’ll have to stop trying to live everyone’s lives for them, Josiah,” she said, pulling her chair close to him. She put her head on his shoulder. “Our children have to make their own choices.”

  “So you’re saying I should accept one of his body parts and then just sit around and wait for the phone call that he...he’s gone to the great rodeo in the sky?” He didn’t think he could do that. Some things were too awful to contemplate.

  “Or you could accept his gift, and then go watch him ride as often as you can,” she said.

  “Watch him ride!” Josiah exclaimed. “Not durn likely!”

  “Have you ever seen him ride?”

  “No, and I ain’t gonna start now!” Josiah felt an urge to yell, but knew he better keep his voice down. This was a lady’s home, and he respected Sara too much to yell. But for pity’s sake, the woman asked a lot of a man.

  “I’ll go with you,” she said softly, and he melted like a pile of snow in August. “And I’ll take you back to the hospital, too, so that they can finish looking you over. I think you’d want to do that. I’m sure you’ve scared your kids half to death.”

  “All right,” he said, surrendering. “That’s the first time in my life I’ve ever been sweet-talked into anything, you know.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Didn’t it feel good?”

  He felt like warm dough under her benevolent, cheerful gaze. “Yes,” he said, “it felt mighty good.”

  * * *

  In the last two months Jack had been to South Dakota, North Dakota and a few other states, chasing buckles and trying to forget Cricket. He hadn’t heard from her, not that he’d expected to. It was crazy how he couldn’t get the deacon off his mind.

  He hadn’t heard from stubborn old Pop, either. He had a new cell-phone number, so his brothers hadn’t been able to reach him. Now that it was May and he’d ridden off a lot of angst, he’d had time to think about everything.

  He wondered if Pop was still as opinionated as the devil. His brothers would have gotten word to him through the circuit if Pop had passed. Still, a strange itch tickled at him, telling him it was time to call home.

  He called Pete. “It’s Jack,” he said.

  “Jack,” Pete said, “are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Just checking in.”

  His brother hesitated. “Where are you?”

  Jack squinted at a sign he was parked under. “Somewhere in the Dakotas.”

  “Coming home anytime soon?”

  “Not sure.” Jack scratched his head. “Should I?”

  “I don’t know,” Pete said, “but I think Pop wants to get married.”

  “He does?” Jack blinked. “How?”

  “By a minister of some sort, I imagine.”

  “But last time I saw him, he was in a hospital.”

  “Yeah, and he maybe should still be in one. But Sara Corkindale, his lady friend, keeps him perked up.”

  “That’s good news.” Jack really didn’t know what more to say. “When’s the wedding?”

  “I believe after he has the kidney operation.”

  Jack’s eyes went wide. “You mean he’s changed his mind?”

  “She’s changed his mind, more to the point. But I think the window of opportunity is closing.”

  Jack got the point. “I can be home in two days. Maybe less.”

  “I’ll tell Pop.”

  “Hey,” Jack said before Pete could get off the phone, “you haven’t happened to talk to that preacher woman lately? Has she been by to visit the quads?”

  Pete cleared his throat. “You haven’t. Why should she?”

  Damn. He hadn’t seen them since he’d visited Pete at the hospital. Never held them, never touched them. “Man, I’m sorry. I’m an ass of an uncle.”

  “I won’t tell them that,” Pete said, “but I bet they’d like having an uncle around who can teach them how to ride a horse.”

  “That’s a few years away, isn’t it?” Jack frowned. Would they even be walking by now? He had no frame of reference for how fast children developed. They’d been in bassinets at the hospital when he’d seen them three months ago—had it been that long already?

  “Time flies,” Pete said.

  Jack replied, “Okay, what are you hinting around about?”

  “Not me,” Pete said. “I’m not hinting about a thing. Would never spill any beans. Know how to keep my mouth shut. You just get home, and everything will take care of itself.”

  Jack grunted as the phone line clicked dead. What the heck had that been all about? Starting his truck, he turned due south and headed home to Texas.

  * * *

  Cricket couldn’t believe how ill she felt. Pregnancy was supposed to make a woman glow; all she wanted to do was gag. She couldn’t seem to catch her strength. Priscilla Perkins had sold her house to Cricket when Priscilla married Pete Morgan and Cricket felt at home in her new sanctuary, but she hadn’t felt well enough to enjoy it in the past month. She’d hoped one day to reopen the cute little tea shop that was part of the house, but now she realized her hands were full for the moment. Her life was changing fast, and nothing was ever going to be the same.

  She was scared. Questions tormented her. She loved the idea of being a mom, but at the same time she dreaded having to tell Jack. Before too much time passed, sharing their news was a fact she was going to have to face. There was no reason to feel too guilty right now about avoiding her
confession; she’d talked recently to Suzy and Priscilla on the phone and each of them had mentioned that Josiah never had his operation, and Jack had taken off for parts unknown. No one knew where he was—he’d never even visited any of their homes or seen their children before he left.

  They’d pretty much given up on him. As for Josiah, he’d made it plain he was going to live his life his way.

  Cricket had another confession to consider—she’d also have to tell her church. While she didn’t dread that as much as telling Jack—Jack was in for a life change he didn’t want—the congregation was sure to be shocked. She hoped they wouldn’t think worse of her, but her behavior would certainly strike everyone as embarrassing. They would want her to resign, of course. Her parents might be ashamed, and her brother was sure to be disappointed.

  The bright spot in her life was that, like Laura, Suzy and Priscilla, she would have her own child. She’d told her friends, swearing them to secrecy, and they’d assured her they wouldn’t breathe a word to Jack. Motherhood was the most wonderful thing to imagine, if she wasn’t so worried about telling Jack. There was no way of knowing how he’d react, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t be the best news he’d ever gotten.

  It was time for her prenatal checkup, so Cricket locked up her lovely new house and left. Cricket wanted to ask the doctor if there was anything she could do about the nausea—eat better, drink something more healthy, anything to make her more comfortable. Fortunately, there was a wonderful selection of teas still in the cupboards of the shop. She was eating holistically, when she had an appetite—organic fruits, some yogurt, whole grains and chicken that was free of hormones and preservatives. Nothing helped.

  An hour later, Cricket knew the nausea wouldn’t be passing any time soon.

  “Triplets!” Dr. Suzanne exclaimed with delight.

  “Triplets?” Cricket’s heart sank, her skin turning cold and clammy. “Do you mean three babies?”

  “That’s what I mean.” The doctor smiled. “You’ve always been an efficient person, Cricket. You’ll have a whole family all at once.”

  Cricket endured the gentle teasing silently. She couldn’t talk. “Are you certain?” Nothing on the monitor looked like triplets to her.

  “Three tiny heartbeats,” the technician confirmed.

  “It’ll be quite a lot to ask of your thin frame,” Dr. Suzanne said. “Bed rest will be required at some point, so you need to prepare for that. Get what you want done accomplished soon. And be thinking about some type of help while you’re housebound.”

  Cricket closed her eyes, blinked, stared again at the monitor. She couldn’t tell anything by looking at the screen, but the technician and doctor seemed quite convinced they were looking at triplets.

  It was the craziest thing she’d ever heard. There was no way, it just couldn’t possibly be true. She wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry, she had to lie on the table for a few long moments, shocked beyond anything she could have imagined.

  If Jack had been the slow one among his brothers to start a family, he was about to make up for lost time in rapid fashion.

  “I don’t know how to tell the father,” she said to the doctor, and her doctor smiled sympathetically.

  “He’ll be thrilled, Cricket, after the shock wears off.”

  Cricket wasn’t sure this kind of shock was something that would wear off. Jack had never wanted to be a father. “Can you tell if they’re boys or girls?” Cricket asked. She didn’t know which Jack would think was worse.

  “He’ll love babies of either sex,” Dr. Suzanne assured her. “We might be able to tell at a later sonogram, but it’s still a little soon. For now, though, everything looks just right.”

  Cricket dressed and left, not completely comforted. Jack Morgan lived for rodeo; he wouldn’t be planning diapers into his cowboy lifestyle.

  And then a big smile lit her face. “I’m having triplets,” she murmured. Never mind what everyone else might think about her condition. It was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her. “Thank you, Lord,” she murmured, trying to decide who to give the good news to first.

  Chapter 6

  “This is not good news,” Jack said, staring at his father. “You haven’t been doing anything the doctor asked of you.”

  “I took a small sabbatical from good advice from doctors,” Josiah said. “It’s good to see you, though.”

  Josiah knew he was supposed to stop drinking whiskey. Sara had made him quit. But four days before the newly scheduled surgery, Josiah had started again. Jack suspected his father was nervous though he’d never admit it. “How the hell do you expect to get through this in the best possible shape while you’re doing that?” Jack demanded.

  Josiah raised a brow. “Since when did you become the parent, and I the child?”

  “Since you started behaving irrationally. Let’s have the bottle, Pop.”

  Josiah handed it over. “It wasn’t any good, anyway. I’ve lost my taste for it, which is aggravating. And I think it’s all Sara’s fault.”

  Jack looked at his father. He half believed him. Josiah didn’t exactly look like a shiny new penny, rather one that had seen its fair share of pockets and hard wear. “What’s the matter, Pop?”

  “Ah, hell if I know.” Josiah scratched his head. “Don’t like feeling like a baby.”

  “Babies have a good life.” Jack tossed the bottle in the trash. “Enjoy the attention for a while.”

  “All right.” Josiah sighed. “I’ll give up the bottle, and you give up the rodeo, and we’ll both suffer loudly together.”

  Jack considered his father’s words as he stared out the hospital window. Life was tricky and weird. He really didn’t feel like riding anymore, though he wasn’t about to say so. Like Pop with his booze, rodeo just didn’t have the same taste to him anymore. “We’ll get through this, Pop,” he said.

  “See, that’s the thing,” Josiah said. “What if we don’t? What if I let you do this, and something goes wrong?”

  “Like what?” Jack glanced at his father.

  “Like maybe the damn surgeon doesn’t know what he’s doing and he doesn’t do you a good surgery. Maybe your body doesn’t like having one functioning kidney and decides to go off. What if the one kidney you have left isn’t a good one, and they gave me your best one?”

  Jack shrugged. “Let’s not borrow a lot of trouble, Pop.”

  “We need that praying friend of yours,” Josiah said. “Deacon Cricket. She could sit at our bedside and bend the good Lord’s ear on our behalf.”

  Jack sighed. “We can take care of ourselves.”

  “Speak for yourself. I like the way she coddles me. Give her a call.”

  He’d like to, but he wouldn’t. She’d call him if she wanted to talk to him. After all, she’d left without so much as a “thanks, muffin.” He’d replayed their time together over and over, and he couldn’t think of a way he’d gone wrong. He’d finally consigned Cricket’s silence to regret. She simply wished she hadn’t made love with him, probably felt she’d done something wrong.

  As many times as he’d replayed that night, all it got him was restlessness and cold showers. His skin was going to permanently prune if he didn’t stop thinking about her. “I’m not calling her,” he said.

  “I’ll do it,” Josiah offered, “if you’re too chicken.”

  “Pop,” he said. “I’m so chicken I could be plucked of feathers. But don’t call her.”

  “I won’t,” Josiah said, “but I will confess to making a different phone call that I think will surprise you.”

  Jack looked at his father, waiting.

  “I called your mother the other day,” Josiah told him.

  Jack didn’t want to go there. “That was a long time ago, Pop. No need to open that wound.”

  “She’s still your mother.”

  Jack sig
hed.

  Josiah didn’t say anything else, which was a sign he wasn’t pleased with Jack’s reaction. “I guess the obvious question is, why did you feel the need to call her?”

  “Sara suggested I should,” Josiah said.

  Jack looked out the window again, wishing the surgery was over already. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted his father well because it was the right thing to think. And then he wanted to be gone again. Anywhere, nowhere, just not here.

  “Sara said it was time to put the past to rest. Gisella probably misses you boys. And Sara and I talked about how bitterness breaks families in strange ways. Since we’re having life-altering surgeries, it’s best not to go into them with negative memories.” Josiah smiled when Jack turned back to study him. “Sara works for child welfare services, you know. She knows a lot about what makes families tick.”

  “I’m glad you’re happy, Pop.” As far as Jack was concerned, his mother had chosen to leave and never come back. Never sent gifts, never wrote. He wasn’t going to worry about what made families tick when the maternal clock had been broken for years.

  “There’s such a thing as forgiveness being good for the soul,” Josiah said.

  Jack frowned. “If I’m going to forgive someone, I’d start with you.”

  Pop’s eyes bugged. “You wouldn’t give me a kidney and hold a grudge, would you?”

  Jack shrugged. “Holding grudges is part of our family identity. I learned it from you.”

  “I don’t know if I want you giving me a kidney that’s full of grudge,” Josiah said.

  “Quit trying to weasel,” Jack told his father. “We’re going to have the surgery this time, we’re going to do it together, and we’re both going to be happy about it.”

  “Not so much,” Josiah said. “You boys ride me terribly, but I wasn’t that lousy of a father.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short.” Jack sighed. “Hell, it doesn’t matter anymore. Let’s just live for the future.”