Texas Homecoming

by Carolyn Brown

  “Everyone needs a family,” Stevie said. “Look at Dixie. She probably wouldn’t survive without the cats. Even though they’re two different species, they’ve bonded to make a family. I hope Max doesn’t mind if I take them with us when we leave.”

  “Max is in the hospital,” Cody said. “I was coming from his place when I wrecked my truck. He was having chest pains, so I called the ambulance and sent him to the hospital in Bonham. I’m sure he won’t mind if we borrow Dolly and the kittens. In fact, he’d probably be happy to know they were being cared for. Once Dixie is happy in her new world, I’ll bring them back.”

  “I envy you and the closeness you have with your family. Always have.” Stevie cut another piece of steak and popped it into her mouth.

  “You were close to your folks,” Cody said.

  “Yes, I was, but I always wanted siblings like you had,” Stevie confessed. “Losing Mama would have been a little easier to bear if I’d had brothers or sisters to share the grief, to share the memories.”

  “I can’t imagine not having family. Even when I was thousands of miles away, the highlight of my week was getting to talk to Mama and Daddy and my brothers when I could get phone reception,” Cody said. “You were going to tell me your first memory.”

  “Yes, I was, and I will if you promise not to laugh and to remember that I was just a little girl,” she said.

  Cody laid a hand on his chest. “Cross my heart, I won’t laugh.”

  “Okay then,” she said and nodded. “I must have been about four, and I begged and begged Mama and Daddy for a puppy for my birthday. As you know, we lived in town, not out in the country like you did. I didn’t care if it was a mixed breed that came from the pound.” She stopped and ate a bite of her potatoes. “I just wanted a pet. I can see Mama standing at the kitchen table, putting icing on my birthday cake, and from the smile on her face, I just knew I was getting what I wanted. But when I opened my presents, all I got was two stuffed animals. One was a mama collie dog and the other was her baby.”

  “Were you disappointed?” Cody asked.

  “Oh, absolutely,” Stevie answered.

  “Did you throw a fit or cry?”

  “Why did you ask that?” Stevie asked.

  “Because I asked for a pony when I was about that age, and I threw such a bawling fit that I even had my brothers both crying,” Cody answered.

  Stevie shook her head. “I was disappointed, but I didn’t cry. Even at four, I knew that would hurt my folks’ feelings. I took those stuffed animals to my bedroom, made them a kennel from a cardboard box, and fed and watered them every day.”

  “For real? What did you feed them?” Cody asked.

  “Whatever I could sneak away from the supper table. When Mama came to clean my room a week later, she found molded food and ants everywhere,” Stevie answered.

  “What did Ruth do?” Cody chuckled.

  “She explained to me that my dogs didn’t eat people food, that they only ate pretend food. Then we took them out in the backyard, she said because they needed some exercise, and she had a tea party with me under the pecan tree,” Stevie said. “Not much of a story, but that’s my earliest memory, and thank you for not laughing. Now your turn. Was it when you didn’t get a pony?”

  “Why would I laugh?” Cody asked. “I think that’s a sweet story, and with a mother like that, you had a wonderful role model.”

  “Yes, I did,” Stevie said. “Now about the pony?”

  “No, and maybe I should explain the reasoning behind why I didn’t get one,” Cody answered. “Daddy explained that, to be fair, if he bought one pony, he would have to buy three—one each for Lucas and Jesse on their birthdays too, and we didn’t need that many ponies on the ranch. I found out later that he had lost his last horse just before we came to live at the ranch, and it hurt him so bad that he vowed he wouldn’t have any more horses on his property. He was saving me from the pain of having to put my pony down later in life.”

  “So, what is your first memory?” Stevie asked.

  “That would be when I was three and Lucas was just a baby—barely walking. A lady put us in the car with her and took us to the ranch. The lady said our new mama and daddy were waiting and they would love us. There was another little kid there, and Mama said his name was Jesse. I was scared, but I had to be strong for Lucas, or he would start crying.”

  “You were adopted? What happened to your real parents? I mean your biological ones. I don’t think I ever knew that you weren’t…actually Sonny and Pearl’s son…” Stevie stammered. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”

  “It’s okay. It’s old news and not many people even remember that we aren’t biologically Ryans,” Cody said. “Lucas and I were taken away from our parents because they were on drugs. They got sent away and we were put into foster care. I don’t remember anything about them. I was only two and Lucas was just a few weeks old when all that happened. Later, they died in prison, and we went to live on Sunflower Ranch. After a few months, Sonny and Pearl adopted us, and we had a good life. I couldn’t have asked for better parents.”

  “And then you’ve got Jesse and Addy and their daughter, Mia, plus the twins they’ve just adopted. I’m jealous of all those folks in your life, Cody,” Stevie admitted. “I guess I’ve got a lot to be thankful for. I’ve been wallowing in a pity pool when I should be remembering the good times.”

  “Grief will do that to you,” Cody said.

  “I never knew that you Ryan guys weren’t all three full-blood brothers,” Stevie said.

  “I love my brothers, both of them equally, even though Lucas is my only blood brother,” Cody said, “but there were lots of times when I would have gladly thrown them out in the yard if I could have been an only child.”

  “I would have taken them in to be my brothers if you had.” Stevie pointed to the window. “Look, it’s stopped snowing.”

  “And now, it’s sleeting and spitting freezing rain. The thermometer hanging right beside the barn door says that it’s twenty-six degrees. That means ice under the snow and more on top of it.”

  “And everyone thinks that Texas is a hot, dry place,” Stevie said.

  “If they want hot and dry, they should spend six months in central Africa, but there was one thing that was definitely better there than here,” he said.

  Stevie turned to face him. “And that would be?”

  “The coffee was a helluva lot better,” he answered with a broad smile.

  “What we need is a nice pot and a decent can of coffee.” She set about eating her breakfast, and when she finished, she laid the bone from her steak on the floor. The kittens came out from behind the stove and pounced on it, growling and slapping at each other.

  “They are entertaining but look at Dixie.” Stevie nodded toward the cria.

  “Poor little thing probably wonders why her siblings are carrying on over a bone.” Cody finished off his food and gave the kittens his steak bone also.

  “If we had a third one, they could each have one,” Stevie said.

  Cody shook his head. “Nope, that’s not the way it works. Three bones. Three siblings. They’ll all want the biggest one or the one with the most meat still on it.”

  Stevie reached out a hand. “Give me your pocketknife and plate. You cooked breakfast. I’ll wash dishes.”

  He handed her the knife and said, “Thanks, but bring it back open.”

  “Hey, I was raised in the same area as you, even if we lived in town and not on a ranch. I know it’s bad luck to give a knife back to someone closed if he or she gave it to you open.”

  Cody held up a hand, a half inch between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m just a little superstitious.”

  “Me too,” Stevie said. “I’ll give it back to you just like it is, only cleaner.”

  Maybe, she thought, being stranded with Cody isn’t so bad after all.

  Chapter Five

  Shotgun blasts, or was it dynamite, sounded all around Stevie when s
he awoke the next morning. She blinked against the blinding sun rays coming through the window, wondering for a few minutes why someone was shooting a gun in the middle of town, especially so close to a school. She popped up in bed and rubbed her eyes with her knuckles and looked around at the strange room, and her first thought was that she’d been kidnapped.

  Then the whole thing with the winter storm came back to her in a flash. She was in Max’s barn with Cody Ryan. Those weren’t gunshots but Mother Nature pruning trees, and the schools would definitely be closed due to bad weather. She checked her watch—twenty minutes until Dixie needed to be fed.

  “I want a warm shower, but I need coffee,” she whined under her breath as she wiggled the kinks from her neck.

  “Run!” Cody muttered in his sleep and began to flail around. “To the cave,” he said as his legs twitched even more. “Go! Don’t look back!”

  She leaned over to get a better look at him in time to see him reach out and grab Dolly. He cradled the cat tightly against his chest and said, “I’ll carry you. Everything will be all right. Hang on, Dineo. It’ll be over soon, and we’ll patch you up.” Then he sat up, and his eyes popped wide open. Tears rolled down his unshaven cheeks when he looked down at the wiggling cat in his arms. “I’m so sorry, son. I’m so sorry.”

  Stevie slung her legs over the side of the sofa bed and touched him gently on the shoulder. “Wake up, Cody. You’re dreaming.”

  He blinked several times, and his frown deepened the beginnings of crow’s-feet around his eyes. Then he freed the cat and wiped his wet cheeks with the back of his hand.

  “Are you all right?” Stevie asked.

  “Just a nightmare,” he said.

  “Want to talk about it?” she asked.

  “Nope,” he answered as he got to his feet and headed to the bathroom.

  She hadn’t been around anyone with PTSD, but she’d heard it was common among soldiers. Evidently, from the way Cody was behaving, he had a bit of it, and a young friend of his somewhere named Dineo had died. From the nightmares, he wasn’t over the death of his friend, and Stevie wondered how old the boy had been.

  While he was in the bathroom, she went to the refrigerator and brought out a package of hamburger. Hash wouldn’t be a traditional breakfast, but it would keep them from starving. Her mouth watered when she thought about a big stack of pancakes covered with melted butter and maple syrup. That could very well be her first big meal when she and Cody were rescued. She tossed the burger in the skillet and set it on the stove, then made Dixie a bottle of alpaca formula and fed it to her. The cria left a little that time around, so Stevie poured it into the one bowl they had and set it down for the kittens, who fought over it—as usual.

  Stevie thought of what Cody had said about siblings having arguments. She didn’t care if siblings fought. If she ever got to have a family, she fully intended to have a houseful of kids.

  Cody finally came out of the bathroom and sniffed the air. “That doesn’t smell like bacon and eggs or sausage gravy.”

  He wouldn’t make a very good poker player, not when he couldn’t hide anything on his face. His expression told Stevie that the nightmare had brought on painful memories.

  “It’s hash for breakfast because we’re working with what we have. If you want to run out to the chicken house and gather up some eggs and go out to the smokehouse and bring in a slab of bacon, I’ll be glad to make a traditional breakfast.” She tried to lighten the heavy mood in the room.

  He just shrugged and turned to stare out the window.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” he grumbled. “Thanks for making breakfast.”

  “Think they might rescue us today?” she asked as she filled her plate.

  “Nope. All that cracking noise we’re hearing is more limbs breaking from trees. They’ll be down everywhere, blocking the roads and probably even the lane from the road up to this place,” he answered, but he didn’t turn around. “No coffee this morning?”

  “If you can stand to drink it, you can make it. I can’t bear the thought of swallowing any more of that stuff.” She took a bite. “This hash needs some onion and Worcestershire sauce.”

  Cody went to the workbench, picked up a plate, and filled it with the meat-and-potato mixture. He took his first bite and said, “I miss salt and pepper.”

  “Me too, and you’re going to miss potatoes after this meal,” Stevie said. “I used the last of them, and there’s only one package of meat left in the refrigerator, so we’ll be trying to figure out how to use canned tuna and chicken. What’s in the fridge is unmarked, so I have no idea what it is. We’re down to six cans of beans. What’s the first thing you’re going to eat when we get rescued?”

  “Food is food,” he muttered.

  “Who pissed in your cereal this morning? I know you were having a nightmare when you woke up. It might help to talk about it rather than ignoring what happened,” she said. “If you’ll remember, it helped me to talk about my mother, and I’m all ears if you want to tell me what’s going on in your head or in your nightmares.”

  “Just leave me alone,” he said.

  Stevie recognized his expression as the same, rather cold one she had seen when he broke up with her. At the time it was devastating, but now she wondered just exactly what Cody was hiding.

  “Talking about it won’t help,” he grumbled.

  “Coming from the man who told me something different about my grief for my mother,” Stevie said.

  “That’s different.” He cleaned off his food, washed the dish and fork out in the bathroom sink, and set it back on the worktable.

  Leave him alone, Stevie warned herself, but she just couldn’t do it.

  “What’s so different? Is it because I’m a woman and we need to talk, but you’re a big, tough cowboy who can keep his feelings inside?” she asked.

  Cody shot a mean look toward her. “I’m not having this conversation with you, Stephanie. I’m going out in the barn to work for a while. I’m going to clean out the stalls, and split all the wood that’s out there. I need something to do.” He grabbed his coat from one of the nails on the wall beside the door.

  “If you’re going out to work, then by damn, I’m going with you. You don’t have to talk to me, but I’m not staying in this tack room all day by myself. I can split wood or muck out stalls right along with you,” she declared.

  “Suit yourself,” he said as he went through the door. Dolly, all three kittens, and Dixie paraded along behind him.

  Our first fight, Stevie thought, and I don’t even know what it’s about. But I’m pretty damn sure there won’t be makeup sex when it’s over. Not that either of us would want that right now after three days with no shower. Thank God it’s wintertime, or we would really be smelling ripe by now.

  Stevie slipped her coat on and buttoned it up the front. She hadn’t realized just how warm the little stove kept the tack room until she stepped out into the cold barn. The aroma of hay and what was just the scent of every barn she’d ever been in was different from the smells of the tack room. She took a deep breath, the cold almost burning her lungs, and went straight to her van, where she rustled up two stocking hats and a couple of pairs of work gloves. Cody had been an old bear all morning, but if he caught a cold or pneumonia, he could be even worse. She found him in the last stall with an ax in his bare hands.

  “Put this on!” She laid the cap on the rail and went back to the tack room.

  “I’ve got my cowboy hat. I don’t need that,” he said.

  “If your stupid ears get frostbitten and fall off, how are you going to keep your reading glasses on when you pass forty? You’re getting pretty damn close to that age right now,” she said, “but have it your way.”

  He removed his cowboy hat, hung it on the post of a nearby stall, and shoved the stocking hat down over his ears. “Happy now?”

  “Frankly, darlin’, as Rhett Butler said in Gone with the Wind, I don’
t give a damn, but I imagine your ears appreciate the warmth. And here’s something else that your hands might say thank you for.” She held out a pair of work gloves. “They’re pretty well worn, but they’re better than nothing.”

  “I don’t need them, and they probably would be too small anyway?” he said.

  “In case you didn’t notice, I’m a tall girl. I have big hands and big feet, and if you will remember my sweatpants were long enough for you too. The gloves will fit you, and you are a doctor. Your hands are important, but hey, if your ears are as much as you want to protect from frostbite—not to mention blisters on your hands from swinging that ax—then again, it’s your business,” she said.

  He took the gloves from her and shoved his hands down into them. “Is there anything you don’t have in that van?”

  “Not much, but this fiasco has taught me to put a box of emergency candy bars and some of those packages of instant coffee in the van before I take it out again,” she said.

  Cody picked up the ax and started splitting wood again, but he didn’t have anything else to say. Stevie went to work shoveling out the three remaining stalls and putting down fresh straw in each one. The barn would be clean for whoever leased or bought Max’s ranch.

  At noon Cody had finished splitting and stacking all the wood. Stevie was done with the stalls and had even swept up the barn floor. And neither of them had spoken a single word to each other. Dixie had come out to romp around in the few bales of hay stacked against the far wall and play hide-and-seek with the cats.

  “Time for your dinner, little girl,” Stevie said as she picked up the cria and took her into the tack room that seemed too warm now. She changed Dixie’s diaper, fixed and fed her the noon bottle, and still Cody hadn’t come in.

  “Let him stew out there in the cold,” Stevie muttered as she added a can of corn and one of crushed tomatoes to the leftover hash and made a reasonable facsimile of soup. Then she added milk to a few cups of the flour she found in the cabinet and a little of the leftover bacon grease for cooking oil. “I’m having hoecake and soup for dinner. If he wants to starve, that’s his business.”