Never Say Never Again

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Never Say Never Again Page 10

by A. E. Easterlin


  How would all that sexy man-beauty feel against the tender skin of her face, her neck, her breasts, between her legs? She smelled coffee and a hint of mint—toothpaste. Her eyes began to close, and she focused on the firm line of his mouth from lowered lids.

  Did she pull back?

  No.

  Did she tell him to stop?

  No.

  She wanted to taste him as much as he wanted to taste her. Her bottom lip softened, prepared for his touch, the anticipation making her knees go weak.

  This is it—he’s going to kiss me.

  Hovering a hair’s breath away from her mouth, he paused, a deep rumble like thunder before a storm escaping his throat. Without meaning to, she lifted her chin and leaned into him.

  Midnight blue eyes held hers for a moment, then searched her face.

  And then…he straightened.

  With a rueful smile and a sigh as deep as the ocean, he plopped his hat back on his head.

  Off balance, Maddie stumbled forward, a frown framing her eyes.

  He braced her body with long fingers circling her biceps. “This isn’t the time or the place,” he rumbled. “When I put my mouth on yours the way we both want me to put my mouth on yours, it won’t be in broad daylight with me smelling like a common ranch hand. I’ll pick the place and the time—and lady, when I do, I’m not going to stop. That’s a promise, Maddie Mae.”

  And with that, he winked and walked toward the house. Maddie swooned. Frustration knotted in her tummy, and she groaned aloud. Regaining her balance, stubbing one foot forward in the dust, she fisted her hands by her side and followed him with a hungry gaze.

  Lord, have mercy! That man sure can fill out a pair of jeans.

  Chapter Twelve

  The doctor made time for her Thursday morning.

  His waiting room was full, but when she told the nurse the nature of her business, Dr. Crawford, Pap’s longtime friend, ushered her straight into his office, sat her down, and clasped his hands. His solemn gaze made her get straight to the point.

  “I won’t beat around the bush—I’m concerned about Pap. His color isn’t good, and he’s been sleeping a lot, low energy, not at all like himself.”

  “Maddie Mae, you know HIPPA prevents me from revealing the specifics of his condition. Is he complaining of any pain, shortness of breath?” Doc Crawford asked kindly.

  Maddie shook her head. “He never complains, but he isn’t well. Every time I suggest coming to your office, he finds some reason to avoid it. Whatever it is, it’s serious. Has he been in to see you?” she asked.

  “I saw him just last week. Maddie, you need to talk with your grandfather. Like all of us, he’s getting older and has age-related issues.”

  “Yeah, Doc, I understand, but it’s more than that. I’m really worried. It’s almost like I can see him going downhill on a daily basis. I can’t just ignore the problem. He needs help.” She fought the tears welling in her eyes. The one person on earth she had left, and she was afraid she was going to lose him.

  The doctor didn’t reply at first, and the cold fist of fear settled in her stomach. Leaning forward across his desk, chin buried in his hand, the words he wanted to say written all over his face, he said, “Talk to Pap. He’s stubborn, I’ll grant you that, but there are things you two need to discuss. Don’t let him refuse.”

  Hearing those words made her heart sink. Her intuition hadn’t led her astray—her grandfather was sick. Very sick. That’s what the doctor was trying to tell her without actually telling her. She’d sensed something was wrong but trusted Pap to tell her what she needed to know. He’d never talked about his illnesses, complained, or taken a day off because of an infirmity. That was just Pap.

  This was different. This was bad, and it scared her. Everything inside went tight, but she nodded her understanding to the kindly doctor.

  “Okay, Doc. I’ll talk to Pap. Can I just ask if there’s anything I can do?”

  The doctor smiled gently. “Be there for him and love him as much as you can.”

  So there was nothing she could do. The meaning in his words was impossible to ignore. A thud hit her stomach like he’d dropped a bowling ball in her lap. For the second time in her life, she realized the fragility of human life, and the very real possibility of loss knifed into a corner of her world.

  Later—I’ll think about this later. Don’t lose it. Get up out of the chair and get to the truck. Then you can fall apart.

  Maddie thanked him and flew from his office.

  Forget shopping for a dress, forget the whole damn date with Gideon. Pap was sick, and it was serious. This was no time to be distracted by a silly romance. All she could think about was getting home.

  Maddie raced to her truck and slammed the driver’s door. Chest heaving, she barely spared a glance for traffic and headed west with her foot pressed to the floorboard. The old Chevy hit a sweet spot and roared all the way home.

  “Pap, Pap…” His name kept coming out of her mouth, a prayerful entreaty. “Don’t leave me… I need you.”

  She cried as if sheer force of will and heartfelt begging would be enough to change the future, but inside, where honesty and reality lived, she knew her entire world was about to change.

  A cloud of dust enveloped the truck and gravel kicked from her tires as she skidded to a stop in front of the house. Exiting the truck, she slipped on the loose stones and recovered wildly in her haste to get inside.

  She seemed to move in slow motion as she ran to the steps, her brain distracting her from what was to come with random observations. When had the house gotten so dilapidated? The flowerbeds were filled with weeds that needed to be cleared. Dirty windows could stand a good wash. How had she not noticed the myriads of chores that should be done?

  Because she’d been selfish, that’s how. Self-involved. Caught up in unimportant things like a job, a man, a heart coming to life again. And all the while, the one she loved most was suffering, possibly dying, and she hadn’t even been aware of his pain.

  She was ashamed to think it took the grave illness of her grandfather to draw her attention to her surroundings, but everything that needed doing came into clear relief, like a photograph taken in the sun. A still shot she could see, touch, and feel. The birds calling to each other, the buzz of the bees on the columbines her grandmother planted the year before she died, dust motes floating on the air—common observations that distracted her desperate mind from the inevitable until she couldn’t avoid it any longer.

  Taking the steps two by two, she burst through the door.

  “Pap,” she called, her voice rising in apprehension.

  The door to the bathroom was closed, and she could hear water splashing. Frantically knocking, she called again. “Pap, are you okay?”

  The door opened, and Maddie gasped at her grandfather’s gray complexion and stooped body. Tiny droplets of water dampened his hair and face.

  “Calm down, girl. I was just washing up. Thought you were going into town. What are you doing home so soon?” he gasped, angry and weak, holding on to the door frame to support his weight.

  Drawing her grandfather into her arms, she held on as if she’d never let him go. His thin body and the protruding bones hidden by his clothes were hard to ignore as she hugged him with all her might.

  Her voice shook, and she whispered into his papery neck, “I had a visit with Doc Crawford. Seems he thinks you and I have something important to talk about.”

  She rolled back on her heels and stared into his eyes. “Pap?” She knew. She would tolerate no more pretending, no more excuses.

  “Help me to my recliner, girl.” He fell back into the chair with a bone-deep sigh and closed his eyes. When he opened them, she could see resignation in their depths.

  “Doc Crawford never could keep a secret,” Pap made a feeble attempt at humor.

  “All he said was to come home and talk with you—so let’s talk. A person with half a brain could have caught on to his not-so-subtle hints. I c
an see you’re sick. Tell me—right now—no excuses. What is it? Your heart? Lungs? What?” Fear sharpened her tongue.

  “Sit down, girl.” He wearily pointed to her easy chair. “I hoped to have a little more time to do this, but I can’t put it off any longer.” Pap waited as she sat, her eyes never leaving his face. Resting his hands on his chest, he paused, eyes tracing the contours of her face with sadness and regret—doing absolutely nothing to lessen her anxiety.

  “Pap,” she prompted.

  “You know, I look at you, and I see my Emma staring back at me. Same flaming red hair, big green eyes, and kind smile. Lord God, how I loved that woman. Took one look at her and told my buddy, ‘You see that woman over there? That’s the woman I’m going to marry.’ Best decision I made in my whole life. Never a regret—not one.

  “War came, and I did my duty. When I came home, my Emma was waiting right out there on that front porch. We had forty-nine good years together, laughing, loving, arguing, just living and feeling blessed. Built this spread, sired two boys, raised them, and lost one to an unwinnable war and the other to a drunk driver. But we had a good life, her and me, until she died, and all the light that was left was you.”

  “Love you, Pap,” she whispered through the gigantic lump in her throat.

  He gave her a nod and a wink. “Love you, too, Maddie Mae, more than all the stars in the Milky Way. That’s why I want you to listen good to what I have to say.”

  “Guess I’m not going to like it, huh?” She inhaled a shaky breath and held it until nature required she begin breathing again.

  “Not much, girl, but I’ve done a lot of thinking on this, and all I’m asking is you hear me out and consider it a spell. Promise?”

  “Promise, Pap.” Maddie quelled the fear in her heart and braced herself.

  “Started feeling poorly a while back. Saw the doc, took some tests, got some bad news. I’ve got the cancer. It’s in my pancreas, grows fast, and no cure.”

  Maddie’s world collapsed. She cried out and grasped for his hand. “Oh, Pap…”

  “No, now, none of that. You’ve got to roll with the punches, girl. What is, is. I’m doing fine for the present. But you and me—we got some things to settle. This is as good a time as any. When I go…”

  “No! Stop!” she cried.

  Tears flooded her hot cheeks, and a sob escaped her throat. Pap held up his hand with a stern look on his face, and started again. A little louder, a little stronger, a lot resigned. Maddie tried to calm the ferocious beating of her heart and pay attention.

  “When I go,” he continued, “this house and the land with it goes to you. I’m sure it comes as no surprise, but hearing the words makes it real. You’re all I’ve got, and this is all I have to give you. It’s set up with the attorney. He has a copy of my will, and his card is in the old rolltop desk over there.” Pap waved toward the desk that had sat against the far wall since before she was born, its treasures and secrets a time capsule holding the day-to-day history of her family.

  “There’s a bit of cash, not as much as I wanted, but enough to get you a start on the kids’ camp. Your grandmother would expect nothing less of me, and she’d be pleased that the fruits of our labor went to help a little child live a brighter life. Does my heart good to know where you’ll be and that you’ll be living your dream.

  “There was the arrangement between Arthur and me long before you or any of the boys were a gleam in our eyes. We would share use of the water. No Branch or Lowry would hold ownership of what God put into place.

  “The only thing that’s changed is the course of the river. Blame Mother Nature or God Himself, that river is now on Lowry land, but it’s a lifeline for Arthur’s boys. I’m trusting you to make sure access to that water continues to be available to both families for mutual benefit.”

  “Of course, Pap.” Why would she deny Snowy Branch access to water?

  “I’ve spoken to Gideon, and he’s informed Eli and Zackary. Access to the water is guaranteed; you won’t have any problems, and neither will they. Agreed?”

  “Of course.” Maddie nodded, confused. Why all the concern about land and water? Even though it would be hers, she had no intention of changing anything. It wasn’t important. Pap was the only thing that mattered.

  “You’re a brave girl, Maddie. Brave and smart and full of courage. All that mess from back east, you took it and weathered it and came out stronger—nothing can break you now. When my time comes, I want you to take this place and use it just the way you want. Stay or leave. Sell it or build your camp. Makes me no difference. It’s yours. Promise me.”

  The lump in her throat strangled her. “You have my word, Pap,” she promised.

  What more was there to say? They gazed into each other’s eyes, letting the greater meaning of their words sink deep. Finding in these precious moments a small measure of acceptance. Praying for strength to face the coming days. Coming to terms with all that lay ahead.

  Maddie stared at her grandfather as he melted back into the cushions of his comfy chair. Frail, old, more ill than she realized, it was understandable he wanted his affairs settled. He wanted peace of mind before he met his maker. That much she could give him. Whatever the cost.

  Maddie rubbed her hand over his thin, sun-spotted skin, loving him, willing to walk this path with him so he wouldn’t be alone. Wishing with everything in her that it didn’t have to be. Hating that he was in pain, hating end-of-life decisions, hating the thought of letting him go.

  He was the one who’d always been there for her—her rock. Pap thought she was brave and courageous and strong? No way—she felt lonely and afraid and sick at heart. Who would take his place?

  The image and the name imprinted itself in her mind before she pushed it away. Another strong man.

  After a while, she unfolded her body and walked to the front window. Staring out at the long, green prairie grass and the cloudless blue sky, she wrapped her arms around her waist, holding the grief inside, willing the heat filtering through the glass to warm her bones.

  “How long?” The question came out as a broken bark of pure emotion in the silence of the room.

  “Can’t say for sure, Maddie girl. Doc says I’m okay for now. It’s all up to the man upstairs. Emma used to say only God knows the time of a man’s birth and the time of a man’s death. I’m inclined to think she was right.”

  Maddie dropped her head on Pap’s knee and choked back a sob. “Grandma was always the wisest of women… Don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I love you so much.”

  “Love you, too. We got some more talking to do, but not right now. It’s been a shock. Just one more thing. I want you to know I’m ready to go. My Emma’s waiting. But that doesn’t make this conversation any easier.”

  Maddie knelt by his knee once more and rested her head on his thin, hard bones. Pap’s shaky hand petted her hair just as it had when she was a child. “Don’t worry, girl—I’m content. We’ll get through this together, just like everything else. Have a little faith. I’ve had a good life. Had a good wife, a good family. Lots of good hard work. Truth be told, I’m looking forward to seeing my Emma again. Lately she’s as real to me as you are right now—like she’s coming closer, calling for me—wanting to take me home with her.”

  His head fell back with a sigh, and he closed his eyes.

  “Are you hungry, Pap? Can I make you something to eat?” she asked quietly.

  “Sure. I’d like a steak—rare—some of your grandmother’s scalloped potatoes, green beans fresh from the garden, and your special apple pie,” he teased, and she smiled.

  He hadn’t eaten like that in a long, long time. Probably give him a bellyache if he did. Pap always put a positive spin on the worst situations to spare her feelings and cheer her up.

  She let him think it worked. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

  “Take care of the stock tonight? I’m a little tired. King could do with a short ride this afternoon, if you’re up to it. He h
asn’t been out all week.”

  “I’ll take both shifts for the horses from now on.”

  He started to object, but she stopped him with a raised palm.

  “Don’t give me any trouble,” she protested. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. A short ride sounds good right about now, and I could use some time to process…what you’ve told me. An hour on King, and I’ll be back to make you something for dinner. Not as good as steak, but something nourishing and delicious. That sound good to you?”

  “What sounds good to me is a bowl of chicken soup and bed. Heat it up for me before you go, and take your time on King.”

  “You sure?” she asked noting his exhaustion.

  “Perfect, Maddie Mae.” Her grandfather smiled with love in his eyes. “Absolutely perfect.”

  It occurred to Maddie she hated that word. For the longest time, she’d associated it with Harrison and heartbreak. Now, it would echo through the years, and she’d remember this talk with Pap. Now, as then, there was nothing perfect about the circumstances.

  In her naiveté, she’d believed perfection was possible. In spite of its definition, it had come to mean something else, something entirely different. Change, sorrow, disappointment. Yeah, perfection was one word she wanted to delete from her vocabulary. In light of what lay ahead, the lesson she’d first learned from Harrison now seemed shallow and unimportant.

  Echoes from the past repeated in her brain. There was no such thing as perfection in an imperfect world. At this time, in this world, her world was far from perfect.

  Chapter Thirteen

  With a spinning mind and a heavy heart, Maddie fed and watered the horses, saddled King, and rode to the trailhead at the base of Snowy Range. By that time, she had only about an hour of daylight left. Going to the pond was out of the question.

  Petting King’s neck, she turned the big Palomino toward the west and the river. The water called to her; she needed to hear the gentle rush of current over stone, and think, absorb, come to terms with Pap’s revelations and the inevitable changes coming in the days ahead.

 

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