Wholehearted

by Ronica Black

  “You want to write this down?”

  “Huh?” She snapped back in. “I thought you were.”

  “Wait, I’ve got some notes on my laptop. Be right back.”

  May vanished out the door and Grace opened her desk drawer and fished out two aspirin to chew. Then she rose and touched the picture of Gabby and Jake. “Come back to us, Gabby, I can’t do this alone.”

  *

  Later that afternoon, Grace was weaving through traffic on I-10, heading west out toward Tonopah to pick up Jake. She was pushing in on four o’clock and she wasn’t sure how in the world she was going to do this every day. She and May had really been on a roll with research when she’d glanced at the clock and found it was already after three. May had not been happy and neither had she, but what was she supposed to do? Up until Jake’s arrival, her career had been everything. Ten years of that had helped her to become quite the young attorney, and making partner was definitely in her near future. If she could just hang on and get Jake on track.

  “Who am I kidding? I’ll never be able to work like that with Jake at home. How would that be fair to him? I might as well be strung out on heroin for all he knows. What’s the difference? An absent parent is an absent parent.”

  How many times a day did she pray to Gabby? Nine? Ten? She just needed her to kick in so badly. Jake was suffering and he was out of control. Skipping school, fighting, refusing to listen. And walking out of restaurants without paying? What the hell? Where did he learn such behavior? Even at thirteen, Gabby never stole. At least not to her knowledge.

  “He won’t listen.” She’d tried having normal face-to-face conversations. She’d tried lecturing. She’d tried yelling. Nothing worked. And grounding him only pissed him off to the point of just walking out and not returning until the following day, leaving her a nervous wreck all night long.

  “If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what I’ll do.” She wrung her hands on her steering wheel and pulled off the interstate. She sped until she came upon the road to the ranch. Tires kicking up dirt, she continued to speed until she reached the entrance. White fences lined the property, and a beautiful hanging cast iron sign said Healing Soul Ranch.

  It blew slightly in the wind as she drove past. “Phew. Made it.” She laughed at how ridiculously worried she was over it. But then she remembered Jake having to run and she wondered if the same thing applied when the day ended. She sped up just in case and was suddenly very worried at what she’d find. Would Jake be near death? Covered in dirt and sweat, having run miles and miles for disobedience? Would his clothes be torn? Would he be dehydrated? Would he refuse to come back? She exhaled long and slow and tried to calm her nerves. Instead, she focused on the beauty of the ranch.

  Despite the dirt and first hurried appearances, it was quite beautiful. Many different trees lined the drive, along with groups of lush-looking wildflowers. Huge oaks shaded the large house as she neared the driveway. The house looked like a ranch home and appeared to be made of wood. But its huge picture windows and glossy finish spoke of more expensive tastes, as did the large deck leading out from the side door. It held a weighty-looking chiminea, cast iron furniture with modern cushions and designs. Numerous healthy green plants were growing in large ceramic pots, and she had the urge to curl there on that deck in her bare feet and watch the sunset with a bottle of wine.

  The thought drifted away, though, as she turned off the engine and climbed from the car. Vibrant grass edged the driveway and led to the stables, which were designed to match the house and were nearly as big. Flagstone paths wound here and there throughout the property and led to the holding pens behind the house and stables. There she saw boys huddled around something and she quickly slipped off her shoes and followed the path up to the rails. The same white dog she’d seen that morning trotted up to her and smelled her legs. Grace gave her a quick pat and saw two other dogs with similar builds lying near the boys at the pen. No one looked at her when she approached. Not even Jake, though she could tell her presence was sensed. The boys remained fixated, most of them dirty and sweaty, arms and legs hanging off the bars of the pen. They looked worn out but serious.

  “Now, since he won’t eat, we gotta try it this way.”

  A gruff but nice-looking cowboy was huddled over a baby horse. He held the horse’s head between his legs and dipped his fingers in milk. Then he forced them in the baby’s mouth. The horse tried to fight it at first, but then, after two more tries with fresh dips, he began to suckle.

  “What we did was we kept the milk from him for a few hours so he was good and hungry. Then we introduced the milk with fingers. Fingers are warm and natural feeling. Once he gets used to the fingers, then we reintroduce the bottle. Let’s hope it works. Jake? You wanna unscrew that bottle and dip the nipple in the milk?”

  “Aww, man. He gets to do it?” a boy said.

  “Dang, man.”

  “He’s new. This is his trial by fire,” the cowboy said. “If the horse doesn’t take the nipple, then Jake has to run.”

  Jake frowned. “Seriously?”

  “Nah, I’m kiddin’, kid.”

  To her amazement, Jake then eagerly climbed through the bars and did as instructed. Sweat tracked through the dirt on his skin from his temples, leading down to his jawline. His neck was red, along with his ears. His clothes were filthy and his once-pristine white shoes were long ago beaten by dirt. But he looked healthy, vibrant, alive. She smiled.

  “Good, now hand me that bottle.”

  The cowboy placed the nipple in the horse’s mouth along with his fingers, which the baby continued to suck on. He let him do this a few more times, dipping it along with his fingers. The horse continued suckling and the cowboy quickly screwed on the bottle and returned the nipple to the horse’s mouth. The baby hesitated ever so slightly, but with the help of the cowboy’s finger once again, the horse began to guzzle the bottle.

  Grace was so thrilled to see it happen she clapped.

  The boys all turned to look at her and the cowboy grimaced.

  “Keep quiet. Don’t wanna spook him.”

  “Sorry,” she said and nearly felt herself blush.

  “What are you doing here?” Jake asked, coming to stand at the barred fence. He didn’t look happy to see her.

  “It’s almost four.”

  His brown eyes fell. “Oh.”

  Suddenly a cowbell rang behind them. The boys unwrapped themselves from the fence and trotted over to the stables. Madison Clark stood there with a clipboard. Grace approached slowly, curious. She saw a large whiteboard hanging on the stable wall. It reminded the boys of clock-in time and to be sure and check with Marv before starting chores. Beneath that it said every boy must have permission before moving a horse from one place to another.

  She listened as Madison called out names to give the go-ahead to clock out. The boys clapped softly as each name was called. A few of the vehicles Grace had seen that morning had arrived. After the boys clocked out, they said their good-byes and walked slowly to their vehicles, crawled inside like they were tired, and drove away. Jake was the only boy left standing.

  “Great,” she said as she walked over. The flagstone path felt warm on her feet to the point where she almost relaxed. But then Madison looked up and her face showed surprise and then…nothing.

  “Ms. Hollings.”

  “I’m on time,” she said cheerfully and then felt like a fool.

  “Yes, you are.” She lowered the clipboard and Grace noticed the sweat lining the blue bandana around her head. Grace wondered what color her hair was. It was difficult to tell from under the cover of her hat and bandana. But what she could see looked to be a light brown. It curled up a bit on her neck so she knew it was cut short. The thought quickened her heart rate as the very real possibility that Madison Clark could be gay made itself known.

  She continued to take her in carefully, acting as if she were casually glancing around. The sun had baked Madison’s neck to a dark golden brown, and her
arms looked somehow stronger than before and her legs thicker with muscle. Maybe it was because the jeans looked slightly damp, as if she’d recently run through a mist. Maybe she had been bathing horses. The thought of Madison all wet and glistening in the sunlight caused Grace to quiver with sudden desire.

  “How did he do?” Grace asked hesitantly, fearing the answer but needing to focus on something else, and quickly. She squeezed Jake’s arm but he pulled away and spat, then covered it with dirt with his shoe.

  “I’m afraid I can’t give Jake credit for today,” Madison said, but she didn’t sound sad or disappointed. Just very matter-of-fact, like she had been that morning.

  “What does that mean?” Grace wondered how she did it. All these kids, their behavior and emotions. How did she stay so professional and detached? Even Grace lost herself to passion when trying some cases. Of course she always played it to her advantage, but still. She had sleepless nights; she had splinters of things she’d witnessed fester under her skin. Did Madison?

  Jake too seemed unaffected. He kicked the ground. Was Grace the only one on earth who gave a damn?

  Grace rubbed her temples in frustration. “Tell me what that means, please.” She sounded weak, wounded, and she didn’t like exposing that to Madison Clark.

  “He didn’t complete his chores.”

  “Maybe he didn’t know how.”

  “He was shown how.”

  “Oh.” Grace looked at him. “Jake?”

  “I just didn’t feel like doing it.”

  “But what about that baby horse? I saw you help feed it. That was awesome.”

  “He fed the colt?” Madison asked.

  “He helped the cowboy.”

  “The colt ate?” Madison asked Jake.

  He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. He ate from the bottle. He’s eating now.”

  Madison sighed with obvious relief. “Well, then. That’s good news. Did you like working him? That colt?”

  Again, Jake nodded.

  Madison scribbled on her clipboard, then flapped it against her thigh. “You get some credit for today for helping with the colt. But tomorrow you need to do better. If you do, you get to help some more with that foal. Sound good?”

  He nodded.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Very good. Go home, eat well, and get some rest. And tomorrow I expect you to be prepared with the proper attire and attitude.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Have a good night, then.” She smiled very briefly and Grace felt her breath catch. Oh my. She’s really gorgeous when she smiles.

  Grace forced herself to look away. “Good night.” Did Madison Clark have manners after all? Or worse, had she had them all along but didn’t feel that Grace was worthy of them?

  Who cares? “God, why do I give a damn?”

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing. Get in the car.”

  “You’re wondering why you give a damn about me, aren’t you?” Jake asked, anger crowning his brow.

  “What? No. Jake, no, of course not.”

  He climbed from the car and began to walk quickly down the dirt drive. Grace hurriedly reversed, turned, and drove alongside him. She powered the window down.

  “Jake, please.”

  “Shut up. Just shut up.”

  “Jake, I wasn’t talking about you. I swear.”

  “Then who were you talking about?”

  He wiped tears with the back of his wrist. Grace slammed on her brakes and jumped from the car. She hurried around the front and embraced him hard. He tried to pull away, but she held on tightly and whispered in his ear.

  “I would never, ever say or even think that about you. Do you understand? I was talking about the cowgirl. Ms. Clark.”

  He pulled away and sniffled. But then spat and shuffled his feet to look tough. “What about her?”

  Grace glanced back at the ranch and saw Madison and the cowboy watching. They were out of earshot but looked very concerned.

  “She’s been kind of rude to me today and I asked myself why I gave a damn. Who cares if she’s rude to me? She’s just a woman.”

  Jake stared at her. “Really?”

  “Yes, Jake. It had nothing to do with you.”

  “Even though I fucked up today?”

  “Yes. And watch your mouth or I’ll make you run laps.”

  He laughed.

  “Now can we go home before she comes over here and makes us both run?”

  “Yeah.” He returned to the car and they both eased inside. “I’ve had enough running today.”

  “I bet.”

  “I can’t wait to get home and play video games. I’m going to play Call of Duty all night long.”

  “You have to get up early again.”

  “So?”

  “And we have shopping to do.”

  “Aw, come on. Take me home and you can shop.”

  “Oh, no. You’re coming with. If I have to suffer through shopping for pants that fit you, you darn well are going to suffer with me.” She reached over and squeezed his hand. He quickly moved it to his lap and powered his seat back.

  “Whatever. I’m still playing Black Ops when we get home.”

  “So did you like the place?”

  “No.”

  “Not at all?”

  “Well, the horses were cool.” He perked up a little. “They have a donkey. A little horse, you know? His name is Speedy and he only has one eye.”

  “Poor thing.”

  “No, it’s cool because he doesn’t seem to notice. He does everything fine. At least now he does. I guess at first he was injured and starved and stuff. But he’s okay now. He loves apples. I thought he was going to eat my hand.”

  “Sounds like fun. I would love to feed him.”

  “He’s a total pig. He follows you around and around and nudges you until you feed him. So we have to make him walk a lot until we give in. Plus it’s like physical therapy for him too. He goes in a pool-like thing every other day for his hips, to exercise.”

  “Wow, sounds like they know what they’re doing.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “So what are the rules?”

  He was busy biting a cuticle but his body went slack and thumped against the chair as if she’d just sucked the life from him. “Really?”

  “Really. I want to know.”

  He sighed and began counting them off. “No lying, no stealing, no running off, no disobeying, no arguing, no fighting, no hurting or neglecting the animals, no cell phone or any electronic equipment, no cussing, no bullying.”

  “That all?”

  “No caffeine or sugary drinks. Only on special occasions.”

  “What about the iced tea?”

  “She said tea doesn’t have enough caffeine to hurt us. And we’re only allowed tea at lunch. It’s water the rest of the time. Oh, and tomorrow I want to buy lunch. Marv and Bobby cook out on the grill and make hamburgers and chicken and stuff. Smelled so good.”

  “Made my peanut butter and jelly taste pretty lame, huh?”

  He nodded. “Can I have McDonald’s for dinner? I’m starved.”

  “Sure. But after we shop.” She had a feeling he’d pass out as soon as he ate, despite his desire for video games.

  After what seemed like a very long drive back toward home, she pulled into a shopping plaza and entered a store to find him jeans. He whined and complained when he tried them on. They didn’t hang low enough in the crotch and they weren’t tight enough at the ankles. He’d look like a newb. Whatever a newb was. But she reminded him of the running and he finally slumped his shoulders and agreed. She bought him five pair and a pair of steel-toed work boots from the shoe store next door. He also picked out a few new ball caps and some white T-shirts. By the time they finished it was after six and he ate his Big Mac and fries on the way home and fell asleep as they pulled into the drive. Grace helped him inside, led him to his bed, and watched as he collapsed onto the rumpled bedspread
. Carefully, she removed his shoes and dirty socks, baggy pants and shirt. He was filthy but she didn’t have the heart to wake him. So she left him sleeping, set his alarm, and went to wash his new clothes.

  Morning would come soon enough, and somehow, washing his clothes and tidying up after him around the house soothed her enough to make her want to fall asleep as well. But she had more research and fine points to go over for that case. Her night, unfortunately, was just beginning. And she wondered, not for the first time, how many other parental guardians’ nights were just beginning too.

  Chapter Six

  “So you got him to eat, huh?” Rob Sheffield asked, coming up on the pen. He rested his chin on his hands and grinned at Madison and the colt. “Handsome little guy.”

  “Marv did it. As always. He bitches and moans, but he loves these animals just as much as I do,” Madison said.

  “The boys too,” he replied.

  “I suppose.”

  “Don’t even deny it. We all know you care about these boys. Probably more than their damn parents do.”

  “That’s a sad statement.”

  “It’s true. We all know the world would be a better place if more parents gave a damn.” He pushed off from the pen and came around inside. The colt had finished eating, and he trotted away from Rob when he saw him.

  “Still skittish.”

  “A bit.”

  Rob stood calmly and held out his palms from his sides. He ticked softly, and eventually the colt came up and sniffed him. When Rob tried to pet him on the flank, though, he bolted, causing Rob to laugh. Being a big guy at six foot five and 240 pounds, Rob’s size was formidable and his laughter deep and resounding. The colt kicked and continued to run.

  “He likes you,” Madison said.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “He doesn’t come up to anyone else to check them out.”