We walk slowly up to the house. Tammy is waiting in the door. She reaches toward us, and the three of us hug briefly. Mama quickly pulls away and hurries into the kitchen. We’ve come a long way, but there are still links to add to our bridge. As Lark’s granny used to say, “Shady Grove wasn’t built in a day.”
My phone rings. I glance down at it. Lark. I haven’t talked to her since Jack made his comment to Jenn yesterday at my house. I should have checked on her. “Tammy, I have to take this call.”
“That’s fine. I’ll go help Mama. . .do whatever she’s doing.” She smiles and steps inside.
I sit down on the white chair on the tiny back porch. “Hello?”
“Rachel? Rachel?”
I hold the phone away from my ear a little. “Lark, you don’t have to yell. I can hear you. What’s wrong?”
She laughs. Or cries. I’m not sure. But I think laughs. I hope laughs. “Nothing’s wrong.” I hear a deep voice rumbling in the background. “Oh yeah. Craig says to tell you we won’t be able to come to the rodeo tonight.”
“You’re kidding! Why not?”
“We’re out of town.”
“Out of town?”
“Well, on our way out of town. The children’s home representative called us this morning.”
“They want to meet with you again?”
“Sort of. They want us to come get our baby.”
“What?” I thought I was all out of tears, but I’m apparently a tear machine, because they’re pouring down my face. “Lark, I don’t believe it.”
“I don’t believe it, either. It’s a girl! She’s a girl.” She’s laughing and crying at the same time. “What an idiot I am. I knew we were on the list. But I rushed ahead.”
“You’re not the first person to do that, honey. Look at Sarah in the Old Testament.”
“Oh yeah, and look how that turned out.”
“Well, thankfully you didn’t end up in that mess. So, can you tell me about the baby?”
“She’s fourteen days old. They have a policy that you can’t get them before then. And the lady called and asked if we wanted to pick her up Monday, but we talked her into letting us come today.”
“I don’t blame you.”
Craig’s voice rumbles again. “Oh yeah. I’ll call you later and tell you her name. We haven’t decided yet.”
“Name her after me.”
She laughs. “I just got off the phone with Vic and then Allie, and they both said the same thing.”
“Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you figuring that one out.”
“We have a two-hour trip to discuss it.”
“Lark, I’m so happy for you.”
“Your happy ending will come, Rach.”
I laugh. “You and Allie! Y’all don’t have to say that. I’m happy with my life.” Or I was until it blew up in my face twenty-four hours ago. But making up with Daddy and Mama was almost worth it. Almost.
“Um-hum. Whatever you say.”
“I love you guys!”
“We love you, too, honey. I’ll call you tonight when we get home with her. Y’all pray for us.”
“Definitely.”
I flip the phone closed and bow my head. Some prayers can’t wait. Just as I say, “Amen,” Tammy pecks on the glass.
“You okay?” she mouths.
I nod.
I am.
Or at least I will be.
When we get home, Daddy and Russ show us the new fence they built. While Tammy is still out admiring it, I walk into the kitchen and come face-to-face with Jenn for the first time since Jack brought us home from the ranch yesterday.
She looks at me, and I see something in her eyes that startles me. Something that’s not hate. It might not be love, but it’s at least. . .curiosity.
“Jenn?”
“This is kind of weird, isn’t it?”
I nod. “Kind of. Do you want to talk about it?”
“After the rodeo’s over, okay?”
I sink onto a bar stool and try to look casual instead of letting her see that my legs are weak with relief. “Sounds good.”
“Daddy’s bringing Sweetie, so all we have to do is show up, right?” Tammy follows me out to the car.
“Right. Actually, I’ll be back before it’s time to go. I’m just running out to the arena to take care of something.”
“Rodeo business?” She reaches up to adjust the collar of my bright green Western shirt.
“No. Knowing Jack, he’ll have that all under control. I’ve got some personal business to take care of.” I wink at her. “Mister-Cowboy-in-Control is in for a surprise tonight.”
She laughs. “It’s good to have my little sister back in the game.”
I give her a quick hug. “Say a prayer for me.”
“You got it.”
When I get to the Shady Grove Rodeo Arena, I pop my CD out of the car player and slide it into a plastic case.
Stock trailers are everywhere, but only a few early birds are milling around the arena. I know one bird who’s always early—so keeping an eye out for Jack, I walk around to the announcer’s stand. So far, so good. I slip up the stairs and tap on the door.
“Come in if your nose is clean,” a voice yells.
I push the door open. “There isn’t going to be an inspection, is there?”
Slim Bewell swivels around and lays his half-eaten sandwich on the table. “Rachel Donovan, as I live and breathe.” He jumps to his feet, amazingly agile in spite of his three hundred–plus pounds. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
I shake his hand. “Good to see you, too, Slim.”
He steps back and looks at me over his bulbous nose. “Not that I’m complainin’, but what are you doing here so early? Committee business?”
“I need a favor.” “Anything for you, doll. Name it.”
I hold up my CD. “I need you to play a song dedication for me during the rodeo.”
“Oh. Can’t do that.” He shakes his head, his puffy, purple-veined cheeks jiggling. “Shoot me another one, honey.”
“Are you kidding?”
“No, I’m sure not kidding.
I put my hands on my hips. “You can’t play a song for someone?”
He puts his huge fists on his own ample hips. “Only way you get to pick a song is if you’re ridin’ in one of the events.” He fixes his rheumy gaze on me. “You ridin’ in an event?”
I force myself not to back down from his stare. Considering that the old rodeo announcer has tried to talk me into entering the barrel-racing event every year since I moved back to Shady Grove, I have a right to be suspicious.
“You ridin’ in an event?” he repeats.
If I don’t, my grand plan is shot. If I do. . .actually, if I do, it might be fun. Deep down, I’ve always known that I quit barrel racing as punishment for what I did with Brett. But how long do I have to pay for one sin? A sin I’ve already been forgiven of? “Is it too late to register?”
Slim’s gap-toothed smile lights up his face. “Nope.”
I make a split-second decision. “Then sign me up for the senior barrel racing.” I slide my CD across the table and explain to him exactly what I want to do.
I’m more nervous than I used to be when I was in the Miss Shady Grove Rodeo contest.” Tammy puts her hand to the bump that is my future niece or nephew. “I think the baby is playing with butterflies.”
I hate to say it, but I’m nervous, too. For Jenn. And for me. And I don’t mean the barrel racing, as far as I’m concerned. I have way more riding on tonight than a trophy.
Although a trophy would be nice.
Seeing Jack would be even nicer, but so far he’s eluded me. Not on purpose, I hope. But I have to face the fact that it’s a real possibility.
Russ, sitting on the other side of Tammy on the arena bleachers, pats her stomach, something that I’ve always seen dads do, but it’s a little disconcerting anyway. “Maybe you should consider swallowing a net. He’d probably be
able to catch them all.”
She hits him. “She’s not going to be a professional ball player, so give it up.”
He holds his hands out, palms up, and gives me a wide-eyed look. “Who said anything about ball? We were talking about butterflies. Right, Rachel?”
I grin. “Leave me out of this.”
“Is this a private party, or can anyone join?” Daddy says as he walks up the bleacher seats arm in arm with Mama. I’m glad to see they called a truce in the coffee war. To my surprise, I’m glad to see them. Period.
Mama hugs Tammy, and then with almost no hesitation, she pulls me into a hug. Daddy follows suit. I return their embraces warmly and send up another prayer of thanksgiving. Whatever happens tonight, I’m grateful for the fences that God has helped me to mend.
Victoria, Adam, Daniel, Allie, and Dylan and the girls walk up while we’re watching the goat tying. I’m grateful for the distraction.
“We’re not too late, are we?” Victoria asks. She rolls her eyes at Adam. “Somebody was in the middle of a tense video game and we had to wait.”
He grins. “You didn’t have to wait, Vicky. You could have called Daddy’s limo driver and had him pick you up.”
They tromp up the bleachers. Allie and Vic sit right behind me.
“Isn’t it exciting about Lark?” Allie whispers where only the three of us can hear.
I nod. “I’m just thankful she never took her name off the adoption agency list. God had a plan all along.”
“That seems to be the Pinky theme.” Allie looks over at Vic. “For all of us.”
Slim’s voice rings out over the loudspeaker. “That’s the end of the goat tying, ladies and gents. Let’s give all our contestants a big hand.”
I clap along with everyone else, even though I did keep thinking “poor little fella” every time a goat would play dead.
“Coming up next is our junior barrel-racing event.”
Tammy grabs my hand and squeezes.
I lean over toward her. “She’s going to do great. You’ll be amazed at how good she is.”
“It’s in her genes.” She laughs. I search her face for one bit of uneasiness and can’t find it.
I feel a hand reach for mine on the other side. I turn my head, and Mama’s smiling. “She’s had a good teacher, too.”
I give her hand a squeeze. “Thanks.” Mama and I are a lot alike, and I know we’ll still have our clashes, but today that bridge between us is looking like a ten-lane superhighway made from solid steel and concrete, with an amazing support structure underneath. I glance heavenward.
Thank You, Lord. You’re an amazing bridge builder.
Finally we relax, as one contestant after another rides. Most have mediocre times, with a few who stand out as extra fast and a couple who knock the barrels down. When the announcer says, “And our last contestant is. . .Jennifer Wells riding Sweetie,” Daddy and Russ both thrust their fists into the air and whoop.
From down near the arena, someone yells, “Go, Jenn!”
I lean forward and see Dirk standing against the fence, watching intently.
“Is that her cowboy?” Tammy whispers.
I nod.
Jenn gets ready just like we’ve practiced; then when “Life Is a Highway” blares out of the speakers, she turns Sweetie to face the barrels. Tammy, Mama, and I clasp hands again.
At the signal, she nudges the horse into a run. Together they work as a team, rounding the barrels as fast as they can without knocking one over. When they clear the last one, Jenn leans forward in the saddle, urging Sweetie to give it all she has until they clear the laser time recorder.
“Whoo-hoo!” I stand and yell, raising my hands in the air. I look down the row, and we’re all on our feet. Behind me, I hear my friends hollering and clapping.
Down below us, Dirk is yelling and clapping, too.
In seconds, Slim calls out Jennifer’s time, and I know she’s won.
“Excuse me a minute,” I say to the group around me.
I navigate my way down through the crowd to the fence just as Dirk starts to walk up toward the gate.
“Dirk.”
He spins around, and his eyes flare. “I’m not—” “I’m sorry.”
He looks puzzled.
“I’ve treated you terribly. . .all summer really, and I was hoping you might could forgive me.”
I see suspicion in his eyes, and when I think of how crazy I acted in the parking lot at the Citizen of the Year banquet, I don’t blame him.
I hold my hands up. “No tricks. Just me being really sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He takes a couple of steps backward like a nervous pup. “Forget it.”
I smile. “I hope we can forget it someday.” But while it’s still fresh on our minds. . . “I do expect you to always treat Jenn with the utmost respect, though.”
He gulps and nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You going up to the gate to see her now?”
“Well, I. . .I. . .she. . .” His eyes plead with me to retract the question.
“Give her a hug for me, too. And tell her I said congratulations.”
“All right!” He smiles.
I return his smile. “Just so we’re straight, that’s two hugs.” I hold up two fingers. “One from you. And one from me. Then I expect y’all to come right back up here to the stands where we’re sitting. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He turns and jogs toward the gate area, apparently eager to go before I change my mind.
While they’re preparing for the next event, I glance through the fence across the empty arena. My breath catches in my throat. Jack. And he’s staring straight at me.
I raise my hand in a weak wave.
He tips his hat.
And turns and disappears into the crowd.
Astride Sweetie, I wait for them to call my name. I can only think of one thing. Jack is out there somewhere. He’ll be watching. And listening. Hopefully listening, for sure. And when it’s over, he’ll have no more doubts about me not wanting people to know my feelings. My gut clenches. All of Shady Grove will know. Blair will probably put it on her show for those few unfortunate souls who chose to do something else tonight.
“Our last contestant has a song request,” Slim’s voice begins over the loudspeaker. “And I’d say it’s a pretty important dedication for a pretty important person. Because I’ve been trying for years to get this gal back in the rodeo arena.” I cringe. I didn’t expect him to tell a story. “And when she found out she couldn’t request a song without entering, she said, ‘Slim, sign me up. And dedicate this song to my rodeo cowboy.’ ”
Not an exact quote, but close enough. My face burns, but I’m not sorry I did this.
He rustles a paper around loudly. “Hmm. . .it doesn’t say his name. But I’m pretty sure he knows who he is.” The audience yells and claps. As the cheering dies down, he chuckles. “And I’m pretty sure you all do, too. So without further ado, I give you our Shady Grove Citizen of the Year competing in the senior barrels—Dr. Rachel Donovan, riding Sweetie.”
The Beatles belt out “She Loves You” over the speakers, and everything seems to go into slow motion. I turn around to face the barrels. For a split second my gaze goes to the place I saw Jack earlier.
And there he is.
I squeeze my eyes shut. Got to concentrate on the task at hand. If I make a fool of myself, some dedication this will be.
The signal sounds. The song and the crowd fade to a distant roar as Sweetie and I repeat the routine she did earlier with Jenn. The wind whips my hair, and in seconds, it’s all over.
My heart pounds in rhythm with Sweetie’s hooves as we trot out of the gate. I slide off and pat her neck. “Good girl. Win or lose, we did a good job.”
“You sure did.”
I swing around to face Jack. “Thanks.”
His brows draw together. “ ‘She Loves You’?”
I look up into his unreadable face and give a shaky laugh. “Yeah, yeah, ye
ah.”
He pulls me into his arms, and I go willingly. Finally, I’m free. Free to be where I belong.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur to his shoulder. “I know,” he whispers.
Slim’s voice says, “And the winner is Rachel Donovan. C’mon up and get your trophy, kiddo.”
I push back and look at Jack. He has a million things to do tonight. And Slim is going to keep announcing my name until I go pick up my trophy. “Meet me at my dad’s barn at midnight, okay?”
He nods. And I jump on Sweetie and go to face the cheering crowd. I couldn’t help but notice he didn’t say he loved me, too. Was my grandstand show of love too late?
When I pull into the barn lot a few minutes before midnight, I see Jack on Lightning, Sweetie saddled beside him.
My feet crunch loudly on the path as I walk to where they are.
“You up for a ride?” he says.
I nod and mount Sweetie without speaking and try to swallow away the lump in my throat.
“Let’s go,” he says and takes off down the trail.
I follow, my mind whirring. I have so much still to tell him. Is he going to let me explain? Or is he going to tell me that after he found out about Jenn, he’s not interested? My heart aches at the thought, and for a second, I want to turn the horse back to the barn.
But I lean forward and gallop to keep up with him. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the weeks since my past came to live with me, it’s that avoiding the truth doesn’t make life any easier. I refuse to live with evasions and lies anymore. I have to know the truth.
We come to the break in the trees by the creek bank. “Whoa.” He pulls back on Lightning’s reins, and I do the same with Sweetie. We both slide to the ground.
I stare at the moonlight dappling the water; then I look up at Jack walking toward me. Whatever happens, I’ve got to tell him the whole truth about the past. Now. Before I lose my nerve. “Brett Meeks is Jennifer’s biological father.”
He nods and puts his arms around me. “I know.”
“You know?” My voice squeaks. “How?”
“I was there that night. Brett wasn’t only a jerk, he was a braggart.” He pauses. “I shut him up with a black eye and a bloody nose.”
Along Came a Cowboy Page 25