“We need to talk to Ruth.”
“I don’t know if we can, Lacey. From what I’ve heard, she has good days and bad days, and we can’t be sure we’ll hit it on a good one.” He threw the car into gear and set off down the street.
Lacey slid down in her seat and pointed the nozzle of the air conditioner right at her face as she leaned her head against the car door. She felt overwhelmingly weary, her energy sapped by the summer heat. She, too, had hoped that Ardie would provide more definitive answers, but all they really knew was no more and no less than they had known before: that the babies were twins and that something had gone terribly wrong at the Sweiger County Hospital that night.
Suddenly it seemed that this whole situation was way too difficult to think about. She had thought about it, she had forced herself not to think about it, and she didn’t know what else to do. She had taken charge of her life when Bunny had left her, and she had done all right for herself, and she was used to being in control. But she couldn’t control this situation, and she didn’t like feeling so helpless.
A housefly had flown into the car and was buzzing against the side window near where Lacey was resting her head. She opened the window to let it out, and at the sound of the sudden rush of air, Garth looked over at her.
“You okay?”
She turned her head toward him. “We should go see Ruth Acevedo right away.”
“We have to make an appointment,” Garth said.
“How do you know that?”
“She’s at Quail Hills Manor. You can’t just walk in if you’re not on her approved visitors’ list.”
“So how do we get on the list?”
“What’s the point? We’re not going there today, anyway. It’s about sixty miles away from where we are right now.”
“Toward Mosquito or away from it?”
“Neither. If we drive there from here and then go home, we will have made a triangle. Here, look on the map.” He pulled a map out of the seat pocket behind her and tossed it into her lap.
Lacey opened it and studied it. “There’s time to do this today, Garth, plus we’ve got Cody and Kim to stay with the babies. What better chance will there be?”
“Anytime would be better as far as I am concerned,” Garth said darkly. “I’ve had enough, and you have, too.”
“No, I haven’t. I want to know what happened that night, Garth, although I have a pretty good idea.” She glared at him. Her stomach was churning, but that didn’t seem important at the moment.
“You think Ruth is responsible for switching babies?”
“Of course I do.”
“Ruth wouldn’t do that,” he said.
“She wasn’t in her right mind. Ardie said so. She said she’d been acting strange.”
“Strange doesn’t mean she’d turn into a criminal,” Garth said.
“Oh, doesn’t it? Joan was related to Ruth, don’t forget. Joan had already lost two babies. Ruth is the only logical one who could have done it. I know you don’t want to believe it of Ruth, but that’s where the evidence points.”
Garth shook his head. “Ruth wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
“It looks to me as if she hurt quite a few people,” Lacey retorted.
Garth shot her a furious look, his mouth clamped into a tight line. She obviously had not convinced him of Ruth’s culpability. Lacey’s stomach was really queasy now. Thinking about that night in the delivery room made her feel sick. She could imagine all too well how it could have happened—Ruth running back and forth between her and Joan, Joan’s baby dying, Ruth taking Ashley and putting her in the pink nursery crib that said Colquitt. And the other baby, the one that died, being buried in the grave with the marker that said Baby Shaw.
Oh, it was awful. It was unconscionable. But it was what must have happened.
The green line of trees around Perla Lake grew larger on the horizon. Garth refused to look at her, and there was no point in talking to him. Lacey closed her eyes.
The night of July tenth was flashing before her eyes like a videotape on fast forward. The pain of giving birth, and Ruth telling her, “Push, push, push!” The light too bright in her eyes. Ardie clattering something in the corner, the sound sharp in Lacey’s ears, and sharper still the cries of two newborn babies. And then being alone in the delivery room, and hearing only one baby crying, and no one coming to her assistance when she called.
If only she and Bunny hadn’t stopped in Mosquito, Texas, to have those babies! If only she could have kept track of what was going on around her in the delivery room that night, if only Bunny hadn’t been in such a hurry to leave Mosquito, if only—
If only she didn’t feel like she was going to throw up.
“Garth,” she said urgently. “Stop.”
He shot her an “are you crazy?” look. “What for?”
“Could you pull into the park? Maybe there’s a rest room there.”
“Well, sure, but—”
She lifted her head and beseeched him with her eyes. “Please, Garth. I—I think I’m going to be sick.”
Chapter Eight
Garth waited for Lacey outside the rest room facility and stared glumly at the surface of Perla Lake. He was sitting on a concrete picnic table, his boots resting on the bench below. Across the water was the swimming beach. There was a float not too far from shore and a lifeguard stand painted yellow. He used to swim here himself when he was a kid and he could cadge a ride over with someone.
Those days seemed easy in comparison to his life now. Not that his life wasn’t full with the ranch and Ashley to look after, but what if he had to give Ashley up? She was his daughter, dammit, and he wouldn’t let her go without a fight. The worst thing was that the person he would have to fight was Lacey, and he didn’t like the idea of that. She didn’t deserve to be in this situation any more than he did.
And Ruth—what about her? Although he knew in his heart that she had indeed switched the babies, he couldn’t yet admit it to anyone. Wouldn’t she be subject to criminal prosecution? Would her Alzheimer’s disease protect her from police involvement? How did such things work, anyway?
All in all he felt a terrible sense of letdown after talking with Ardie. His expectations of the meeting had been high, but now he knew that he’d been deluding himself. He should have known that the person responsible for switching the babies was Ruth, but his affection for her had blinded him to the truth.
The sun slanting over the lake shone too hot on his face. He sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, angling to position himself in the shade of the tree overhead. A mud turtle sat on the bank and started to walk toward the water, whereupon a hawk flew down to inspect it. As the hawk’s shadow passed across the turtle, the turtle drew in its head and feet.
“That’s right, buddy,” Garth said to the turtle. “You’re doing what I would like to do now.” The turtle waited awhile, then resumed its walk. Finally it reached the water and disappeared.
When Lacey came out of the rest room building, her face freshly scrubbed, he sat up straight. She had piled her gleaming hair in a topknot, away from her face. Her fetching dress with the flirty skirt swirling around her knees was at odds with the way she looked, which was pale and wan. Her freckles stood out more than they usually did, and she seemed subdued.
“Everything okay?” He already knew that nothing was okay.
“No,” she said bluntly. She sat down beside him. Her gray eyes seemed very large in her face.
“What I mean is, is your stomach feeling better?”
“Now that there’s nothing left in it, yes,” she said, which made him feel downright stupid for asking.
“I’m sorry.” He wished he could speak of the hollowness he felt, of the devastation, but he was used to holding it all in, and so he didn’t dare.
“I want to go see Ruth Acevedo this afternoon,” Lacey said.
“I told you—”
“You brought your cell phone, didn’t you? You could call that Quail Hills place
and get us on her visitors’ list. It’s Sunday, isn’t it? Don’t people in nursing homes have visitors on Sundays?”
She reminded him of a bulldog worrying this to death. “Lacey,” he began, but the look in her eyes stopped him. In their depths he saw more pain and anguish than he’d ever hoped to see inside one human being. His heart went out to her because he thought he knew how she felt—the same way he did. Worried and scared and agonized, and that wasn’t the half of it.
“If you won’t call Quail Hills, I will. There’s a phone right over there on the wall.” There was determination in the jut of Lacey’s jaw, in the spark of her eye. She got up and fished around in her purse for her wallet, from which she extracted two quarters.
“Wait,” Garth said, knowing when he was beaten. “I’ll call.”
Lacey dropped the quarters back into her purse and stood watching while he dug his cell phone out of his pocket. He had to dial Information for the Quail Hills number, during which time Lacey stood and tapped her foot impatiently. He almost smiled at the way she looked, so stubborn and resolute, but this was way too serious business for laughter.
At least the nurse who answered the phone at Quail Hills Manor was helpful. “Visitors’ hours are until seven o’clock tonight, and I’m sure Mrs. Acevedo would be delighted to see you.”
When he hung up the phone, Lacey said, “Is it okay? Can we see her?”
Why did he feel like putting his arms around her to reassure her? He turned away from her, which he guessed was the wrong thing to do because all she did was move closer and put her hand on his arm.
“Garth?”
“We can go there,” he said heavily.
“Oh, that’s good, because if you wouldn’t, I would have to go by myself. I didn’t know how to accomplish it, but I thought maybe Kim would let me borrow her car, even though I hate to ask her. Garth, I just have to see Ruth today, to chat with her—”
“I’m not sure it’s possible to chat with Ruth, Lacey. From what I’ve heard, the progression of her disease has been rapid, and I don’t know how bad it is.” Leaving Lacey behind, he strode rapidly toward the car, blocking out the torrent of words that followed as well as his own feelings, which were much too frightening for comfort. Not only did he want to put his arms around Lacey Shaw, but he wanted to kiss her. Which would stop the stream of talk but wouldn’t help matters much.
She must have known he was upset because she was quiet, unnaturally so, when at last they were on the road. When he glanced over at her, she was tucking her hair behind her ears, exposing them to his gaze. They were lovely ears, small and pink and beautifully formed.
She noticed him looking at her and slanted an uncertain glance in his direction. “Now that we have a plan, now that we know we’re going to see Ruth and hear her side of the story, I’m resting easier.”
He managed a grunt and wished he could feel Lacey’s optimism. Perhaps the fact that he didn’t was a reflection of their very different positions in this heartwrenching circumstance. Clearly she wanted this thing over with, and he wanted to string it out as long as he could because he couldn’t bear to face any further unpleasantness.
After they’d ridden awhile longer, he asked her if she was hungry.
“A little,” she admitted. “Something to eat might help my stomach to settle.”
They stopped at a convenience store and bought several packages of cheese crackers and some iced tea in bottles. She ate a few of the crackers and sipped iced tea while he downed his whole bottle almost at once. He felt better after he drank it.
“I was thinking,” he said slowly after a while, “you might want to hear more about Ashley when she was real little.”
Lacey focused surprised eyes on his face. “I might,” she allowed.
“She was a good baby those first few weeks,” he said. “She slept through the night early on, which was a blessing considering that Joan wasn’t recovering as quickly as expected. Ashley smiled a real smile at a funny stuffed clown at three weeks or so. The house was a whole better place with a baby in it.”
He figured Lacey knew exactly what Ashley would have looked like, since she was so much like Michele. Those round cheeks, growing rounder as she put on weight in the weeks after her birth. That little pointed chin, which had been prominent from the very first day of her life. The way she chortled so happily down deep in her throat when she bicycled her legs.
“Michele sat up early. Did Ashley?” Lacey asked.
“You know, I don’t recall,” said Garth. “Joan died when Ashley was only a month old, and I spent the next couple of months in a terrible fog. I wasn’t much good at anything. I felt like I was sleepwalking through the motions of running the ranch. I couldn’t have kept going at all if it hadn’t been for Ashley. For her sake I finally pulled myself together, but it wasn’t easy.”
“I wouldn’t ask if you hadn’t brought it up, Garth, but how did Joan die?”
He took his time answering, but he wasn’t sorry she’d asked the question. He hadn’t talked about this with anyone else; it had been too painful. But now, with another crisis in the offing, he needed the catharsis.
“Joan got pneumonia after the baby was born. The onset was sudden and totally unexpected. My wife wasn’t a complainer, and I didn’t realize she was sick until it was too late. I rushed her to the hospital emergency room and—well, that was it.”
Lacey knew what it was like to lose a spouse unexpectedly because Bunny had up and left her. She was over it now, mostly because the marriage hadn’t been good to begin with. It would be a whole lot harder, she thought, to accept the absence of a spouse you loved.
Garth went on talking, never taking his eyes from the deserted road. They had passed only a few cars, and there weren’t many houses around here.
“Cody and I tried to cope with the baby and the house, but it was hard. Then I hired a local girl to work as a nanny, but she wasn’t good with Ashley so I fired her. The mother of one of my ranch hands was our next choice. She was so lazy that all she did was sit around and watch soap operas on TV. When I came home one day, heard Ashley crying in her crib and discovered that she hadn’t had a diaper change since before I left that morning, I blew up and fired the woman on the spot. After that I hired a succession of young girls who wouldn’t do housework and couldn’t cook.”
“It seems like,” Lacey said slowly, “you’ve had a right hard time, Garth.”
He offered her a bleak sideways look. “I’ve been so grateful that I had Ashley. I never considered her a burden. She’s brightened my life considerably, and I can’t imagine her not being in it. And when I think about our child that died, mine and Joan’s…” He let the sentence taper off.
“Bunny and I buried her in the local cemetery. At Peaceful Gardens. We thought she was our own.”
He didn’t speak, but she saw him swallow. She looked away, unable to give him any more privacy than that in the close confines of the car. Then she laid her head back against the seat and must have dozed, because the next thing she knew, he was saying, “We’re almost there.”
Lacey sat up straight and took her lipstick out of her purse. She applied a fresh coat as Garth drove past the white brick pillars bearing brass plaques marking them as the entrance to Quail Hills Manor. He stopped the car in front of a long, low building. “This is where Ruth is staying.”
Lacey was still wiping a smudge of mascara from her cheek when Garth came around from the other side of the car and opened the door for her. She shot him a surprised glance. She hadn’t expected this little courtesy, but it was thoughtful of him. She got out, and they walked up the brick-paved path together.
A dark-eyed receptionist smiled and directed them down one of four corridors leading away from the entry area. At another desk, they asked for the number of Ruth’s room.
“Last door on the right,” replied a pink-smocked attendant. “Ruth will be happy to have some company. She hasn’t had any visitors for a week or so.”
They p
assed a lounge where some residents were playing cards and another where people were watching television. When they reached Ruth’s room, Garth knocked on the door.
“Come in,” bade a quavery voice, and when they opened the door, they saw a tiny, white-haired woman attired in a neat, striped dress sitting on a chair beside the window. The window looked out on a small garden that surrounded a bird bath.
“Hello, Ruth,” Garth said.
“Well, finally someone shows up. I got all dressed today, and no one came,” said Ruth, sounding petulant.
“We did,” Lacey said, going directly to Ruth and taking Ruth’s wrinkled hand in hers. “We showed up.”
Garth was surprised at Lacey’s immediate attempt to connect, but he wasn’t surprised at her warmth. Ruth must have felt it, too, because her face lit up with a bright smile.
“Do I know you?” she asked, looking puzzled.
“No, ma’am, not exactly. What I mean to say is, in a way you might,” Lacey said, looking to Garth for help.
“She’s a friend of the family,” Garth added hastily.
Ruth glanced up at Garth in bewilderment. “But do I know you?” she ventured tremulously.
“I’m Garth, Joan’s husband,” he told her, moving closer.
Lacey knelt beside Ruth’s chair. “We came to talk to you about something important.”
Ruth’s expression shifted from confusion to stubbornness. “I don’t talk to people I don’t know,” she said.
Garth sat on the chair opposite Ruth and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You remember Joan,” he said. “She was your niece.”
“Joan,” Ruth said as if she were considering the name carefully.
“Joan was your brother’s girl. Norman’s child.”
“Oh, Norman. He had three children. Arthur married Doris. She was a nurse like me. Cynthia married a man from Oklahoma and went there to live. Joanie married Garth, they live out on the Old Grange Road.”
Rancher's Double Dilemma Page 14