With her unbroken arm, she pounded her fist on the desk. Thump. Thump-thump.
He looked back at her. “What?”
Something was happening in her. It started like typical butterflies in her stomach, but changed to a flush of warmth. Of happiness. Of joy that grew and opened like a flower, filling her heart with love so fresh and young, so pure and hopeful.
If he really loved her like this, even when she looked the way she did—face bruised, mouth still swollen. If, when Rick looked at her, he really saw only beauty. And if he truly understood—not just knew how she felt, but understood how much she needed to sing ...
She rose on shaky legs. Her heart fluttered like those butterfly wings she’d felt a moment ago. Nervousness surged through her as it had on that long ago day she and Sharon swam with Rick and Tony.
She walked over, took his hand, and signed I love you. Then she pressed her swollen lips to his cheek and held them there, her face against his.
He didn’t move. “I love you, too, baby,” he whispered.
She eased back. Tempo, she signed awkwardly, gazing into his smoldering eyes under the brim of his Stetson, and had a delicious flashback. Eight years ago. She and Rick. Outside, naked, on a quilt. He’d looked at her then like he was looking at her now. They’d made Ben that day.
He cleared his throat. “Let’s go check on her. She’ll be glad to see you.”
She held his hand as they walked toward Tempo’s stall. They passed Trident, who was desperately trying to open his door. Julie jerked a thumb at the mischievous horse.
“Yeah. I had to double lock him. And put him between Dutch and the tack room. He smells a girl, he gets one thing on his mind. That’s why I moved Tempo to the end, she’s fixing to come into season.”
Snake. Bite. Julie signed.
“The vet got here right away and treated her. He’s put her on antibiotics and he’s treating it as a puncture wound, being cautious of infection. She had some swelling and lost the hair around the bite, but she should be fine.”
In the narrow stall, Julie inspected the horse’s leg. Sure enough, two dark spots were visible just above Tempo’s back right hoof.
Rick cleared his throat. “If you hadn’t held on like you did, if she’d thrown you and the snake bit you instead ...”
Julie probably wouldn’t be here. Maybe there were worse things than not being able to sing right now.
And, she realized with sudden clarity, if she hadn’t had the accident, she wouldn’t know about the nodules. She would have auditioned, possibly signed a contract, maybe begun performing, and caused permanent damage to her voice. Had the short-term setback of the accident saved her from failing in the long run?
She reached for Rick, placing her cast-covered arm between them, and held him tightly with the other.
Immediately his arms went around her. They’d held each other so much the last few days. Time and again she just walked right into his embrace, and he welcomed her without hesitation. She’d even gotten fairly comfortable with him helping her undress, bathe, and re-dress.
Last night, for a brief moment as she drifted to sleep, she actually forgot about the cast on her arm, the wires on her teeth. Yearning had spiked. She’d almost rolled over and kissed him, a clear invitation. But the reality of her condition stopped her.
What had stopped her in the weeks, months, years before the accident?
The tension between them, that’s what. Over time it had stretched tighter, tauter, like an invisible high wire. And because of it, they hadn’t been able to talk, to touch, to reach each other.
Julie didn’t know where that tension had come from—maybe just residual stress from Ben’s surprise arrival and ensuing health issues—but for now it was gone. As though the slate of their marriage had been wiped clean.
As if on cue, a music intro started; the DJ spoke over it. “Hope you’re with the one you love, ’cause here’s an Alabama classic. ‘Feels So Right.’”
Space was limited between her horse and the wall, and they were standing in the only clean corner of the stall. She was surrounded by buzzing flies; the scent of fresh horse dung and soiled hay tickled her nose. But truly, there was nowhere else she’d rather be.
She pulled back, searched Rick’s face. And started to sway.
His hold on her tightened. “You asking me to dance?” he asked.
She nodded, and watched the hungry lover in her husband push aside the platonic gentleman who’d been her caregiver since the accident. She inched her mouth forward and felt a lovely magnetic tug—the first in a very long time—as he began to move with her.
Feels so right, indeed, she thought.
He kissed her. Gently.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
No, it was wonderful. Even with her mouth closed, even though she could only hold him with one arm.
She kissed him back with the slightest movement of her lips. He’d stopped dancing, but his hands were frantic, roaming over her back and shoulders.
His breathing quickened. “Ah, Julie. I’ve missed you so much.”
And she’d missed him. Missed how good it felt to be wanted. To be touched. To be loved.
If only they weren’t standing in the barn.
She broke the contact, pulled his arm from around her and raised his wrist to check the time. Twelve thirty. And Mother and the children were gone.
Bath, she signed, rubbing her one, working fist against her chest.
Rick’s head dropped forward. “You want to go back to the house and take a bath.” He exhaled through pursed lips and looked at her. “Okay. I was worried coming out here would be too much for you.”
She shook her head. Pointed at herself, pointed at him.
Bath, she signed.
Understanding made him chuckle. He picked her up, though she wriggled in protest.
“Nuh-uh. No way am I chancing anything happening to you between here and the house.”
Being carried both embarrassed and thrilled her. She half expected Rick to be winded and in need of a nap by the time they reached the house. Instead, he lowered her feet to the ground, held her against his side as he opened the back door. Then he carried her over the threshold and all the way to their bathroom, closing and locking doors as they went.
The sheer fun of it had her laughing inside. The look of focused determination on his face made her heart race with anticipation.
She turned on the faucets, suddenly shy over undressing as he watched.
“I’ll be right back.” As if reading her mind, he went into their bedroom, but left the door open. She heard the beep of his cell phone as she removed her clothes and slid into the warm water, careful to keep her cast on the tub’s edge.
He returned and smiled at her. “I texted Sean. Previews are running. Movie’s two hours. That means we’ve got close to three before they get back.”
He flicked on the jets, shed his clothing, and joined her in the tub.
She pressed her hand to his chest—pinky and forefinger up, thumb out. I love you.
Rick kissed her. As best she could, Julie kissed him back.
***
“Daddy? Daddy.”
Rick heard Rachel’s call as she entered the stables—a solid three hours after he and Julie had started their bath. Julie was now sitting at her new desk, reviewing programs and making notes on a legal pad. Rick stood behind her, nuzzling her neck and dodging half-hearted swats from her hand. He watched as she clicked to the word processing program.
Aren’t you going to answer her? he read.
“Daddy?”
“I’m in the tack room. With your mother.” He nipped Julie’s earlobe as Rachel came through the doorway.
“Gross. Almost as gross as the un-mucked stalls.”
His daughter stood with arms crossed, glaring. His wife had leaned away, and was looking back at him over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised.
Rick laughed. He winked at Julie. “I got distracted earlier today.”
“I bet
.” Rachel muttered and grabbed her rubber boots from the rack by the door. “Are all the horses out?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll start with Tempo’s stall.” She left.
Rick stole another kiss just below Julie’s jaw. Her hand rose again. He caught it and kissed it, too, then backed toward the doorway as she wagged a finger at him.
“Type me a list, Gorgeous. Whatever needs to be done to make Sean’s party happen.”
Julie blushed, nodded, and shooed him away.
Humidity had joined the afternoon heat. Both slapped him as he exited the tack room. He grabbed one of several shavings forks hanging on the wall, and ambled down the concrete walkway past empty stalls.
As he approached Tempo’s newest home, Rachel tossed a shovelful of manure into a wheelbarrow she’d placed outside the sliding door. Rick slipped inside before she reloaded her shovel, began working alongside his daughter.
“I guess you and Mom are getting along. Since her mouth is wired shut.”
“Careful, Rachel. Your mom’s been through a lot lately.”
“Right. I guess being waited on hand and foot could make anybody unpleasant.”
She threw more manure out the door, turned back, and sank her shovel in again. Rick jabbed the tines of his shavings fork directly onto the blade, stopping her progress.
“When you’ve been sick, hasn’t she taken care of you?”
Rachel ducked her head. “Yes. But I’m hardly ever sick. Ben’s the one who needed all her attention.”
“That’s right. She nursed him because he couldn’t eat any other way. She interviewed specialists until she found one who would give him the best chance for having normal speech in his adult life. She learned and then taught him sign language. While continuing to do all the wife and mother things—cooking, cleaning, taking care of the rest of us, even handling my company’s books. How much time do you think that left her for herself?”
His daughter didn’t look at him, but he could see her pressing her lips together.
“Well?” If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was an ungrateful child. “This is the most rest your mother’s had in years.”
And it was probably doing her a world of good.
Rachel’s head was still down. “Will she stay like this if she gets her voice back?”
Rick watched his daughter swipe the back of her hand across her nose. Using two knuckles he nudged up her chin. Tears swam in her eyes. He knew Rachel hated crying in front of anyone. Probably thought it made her look weak. She had no idea how his resolve buckled when she cried. And maybe that was a good thing. If she’d actually known how much power she wielded with her tears, well, that could certainly become a problem.
The question was, why was she crying?
Will she stay like this if she gets her voice back?
Honestly, hadn’t the same thought crossed his mind? Earlier. While he’d been loving Julie, enjoying a welcome the likes of which he hadn’t experienced in years.
He pulled a bandana from his back pocket, bent, and blotted rogue tears on her cheek. Finally she met his gaze.
“I remember what she was like before Ben, Daddy. She used to sing to me at night. Then Ben came and everything changed.”
“That kind of happened for all of us.” He took both tools, propped them against the wall. Wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her hair, noting its strawberry scent, her current favorite shampoo and conditioner.
“Listen. When your mom gets better, she’s finally going to get to do what she’s wanted to do her entire life. Think about how you’d feel, if every time you thought you were about to reach your dream, something happened that postponed it.”
“I want to run my own stables. Like you.”
“Not much longer and you can help me run this one. You almost know enough.”
Rachel wouldn’t need to leave or move away to have her dream. And maybe when she turned fifty, he’d let her date.
“Daddy?”
She whispered so softly, he almost didn’t hear her. “Hmm?”
“I have a little problem.”
“What’s his name?”
She pulled back, rolling green eyes that matched her mama’s. “Daa-ddy.”
There was that knock-a-man’s-knees-out-from-under-him half smile. Man, she was going to be a heartbreaker.
He winked at her. “I’m just making sure you’re still my girl.”
“I’m always your girl, Daddy.” She paused. “You know how I struggled with those English assignments earlier this year?”
“But you’ve been working hard since then. I see you on your computer all the time.”
“Yeah. About that. I’m sort of ... failing English.”
He released her, checked the area around his boots, and stepped back. Scrubbed a hand over his face, then shoved both in his front pockets.
“The school year’s almost over and you’re just now telling me this.” Although he tried, he couldn’t keep the snap out of his voice.
“Shh. I don’t want Mom to know. I don’t want her to be mad at me.”
“She’ll know soon enough. Sean graduates in a week. Then you’ve got what ... two, three days left of regular classes? I figured I’d have to take you those last few days, but summer school’s a different matter.”
Rachel looked to the left, the right, the corner over his right shoulder. She crossed her arms. “I’ve been working hard. I really have.”
“Sounds like it hasn’t done much good.”
“It has. I made a deal with my teacher. I’ve been writing like crazy to meet the word requirement. If I keep it up, they’ll let me finish in summer school.”
“No bus, right?”
“No.” Misery coated her words. “I need a ride.”
“Sean’s shipping out, so he won’t be here. I’ll have double duty, because you won’t be here to help with summer chores. The whole fence down the east side needs replacing, and your mother’s got a broken arm. I guess you expect her to drive one-handed and with a broken jaw.” He sighed. “When does it start?”
“The following Monday.”
“That’s almost six weeks after the accident. Maybe she’ll have her cast and the wires off by then.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I am. Please don’t tell Mom yet. Please.”
She looked at him with her mother’s face, with that same uncertain expression Julie had given him a few hours earlier, right here in this stall.
“I can count on you, right, Daddy? Like always?”
The dilemma was familiar. His position, precarious. Here he was again, smack-dab in the middle between his wife and daughter, and he hated it. Absolutely hated it.
But what choice did he have if he wanted to keep them both happy, and protect the new, fragile intimacy between him and Julie?
Maybe, if he gave himself time to strengthen that bond. Simply delayed telling Julie and made as many new, happy memories with her as possible before anything else happened, they might get to keep the closeness they’d just rediscovered.
Rick reached for the tools, handed the shovel to Rachel. Began sifting soiled bedding. She took the cue; they worked together until the floor was clean enough to add fresh pine chips.
“Who else knows? Your older brother? Friends at church?”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “No one but my teacher.”
“Good. Keep it that way. Don’t tell your grandma, either. I’ll figure out the best time to tell your mom.”
“Not yet, though, right?”
“No, not yet.”
“I have a paper you need to sign.”
“Give it to me later.” He handed her his shavings fork, exited the stall, and lifted the manure-filled wheelbarrow’s handles. “Right now, I’ve got my hands full.”
***
Rachel Matthews, Mrs. Tate’s third period English class:
Tuesday, May 27:
I feel like my life has been split in two, and each half has been
turned inside out.
Before this year, school was my haven. Now I endure it.
Science is sooooo yuck. If my new lab partner Britney-the-blonde-bimbo (sorry, Mrs. Tate) says one more thing about me having a breast reduction and giving her my extra—I might just fail English on purpose and repeat eighth grade. To get away from her.
But Britney is Vice Principal Larl’s granddaughter. Like I could tackle that one and win. I’d have an equal chance of winning an argument with Mom.
At home, I now live in an alternate universe. My grandma, who’s been here four weeks and is staying through Sean’s graduation, has somehow got me hooked on kiwi smoothies.
Kiwi. Because she read somewhere it prevents asthma. Not that I’ve ever had asthma.
It’s also full of antioxidants and fiber, which I will need to prevent the weight gain I’m obviously at risk for, since according to Grandma, I’m “built like your mother, God bless you.” Grandma is convinced my digestive tract is unhealthy, because I don’t eat enough fruit.
Have you SEEN a kiwi? The seeds look like little black bugs. I spend, like, hours every night picking them out of my teeth. I simply cannot sleep feeling like critters are breeding in my gums.
My oldest brother—who’s outta here, soon, anyway—has lost his mind. He’s currently concerned about, what he calls, his legacy. He’s cleaning out his room, and keeps giving our little brother weird stuff.
Every few hours I hear a throaty “Oh, man, that’s awesome!” from Ben’s room, that’s how I know Sean has given Ben yet another treasure, like Sean’s first teddy bear. The thing’s missing both eyes and an ear. If you ask me, it’s got a flesh-eating fungus.
And the camera. Grandma bought Sean a camera for graduation, but of course she gave it to him last week even though his party isn’t until this Saturday. So now Sean’s a bigger goofball than ever before. He pops out around corners, from behind doors, and takes what he calls “candid” shots.
Little Ben is the same old Ben, thank heaven. But my parents are like goofy, love-struck teenagers on an endless date.
They are kissing. ALL. THE. TIME. And hugging. Daddy is forever whispering in Mom’s ear. She can’t say anything back, of course, but she grins at him all the time.
Since the accident I have to knock on the tack room door before I enter. It was actually locked the other day when I went to find them. They were in there doing who knows what. I mean, I know. But I don’t want to know.
Sticks and Stones (The Barn Church Series) Page 9