Spencer didn’t mind the coming and goings of tourists in the warm season. As a ranch hand, he was rarely home. In the stillness of winter, his hours were more regular, and he spent most of his evenings alone, except when Kimber came for her scheduled weekends. Much of the time, Spencer spent his time with canned soup and a snapping and crackling fire in the woodstove. Working on the homes of others meant he needed to fit their needs, and they usually wanted him out of their way by dinner.
Walking through his front door, he grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and swallowed a pain pill as he mulled over his current job. He had just about finished with the remodel at the Clemson home. His last task required the installation of crown molding in the master bedroom. He was cutting through a carved strip of wood when his hand had slipped, causing the saw to tear through his thumb.
Sitting at his kitchen table, he’d called the Clemsons with the news that he wouldn’t be able to finish the job for another week at least. He apologized profusely for the fact that they would still be living amid his tools and equipment that were spread along the overhang of their back deck. He promised to return the following day to move the tools to a corner and clean up the best he could. Mary Clemson kindly told Spencer not to worry about the job; he needed to take care of himself.
He appreciated her easygoing manner, even though it wouldn’t pay the bills. It wouldn’t help him talk to his next client, either. Steve Jacobson wouldn’t be so forgiving. Spencer pressed Steve’s number and held his breath while waiting for an answer.
“Hey there, Spencer. What’s the latest? Are you ready to start on our kitchen?” Steve’s joviality sounded fake. It had taken weeks of negotiation to land this job with Steve and his wife, Mindy, questioning every nut and bolt of his bid.
“That’s why I’m calling,” Spencer started.
“Don’t tell me you’re running late on your current job.”
“No. I’m right on time with it, but, well … I’ve had an accident. I sliced my thumb on my left hand. I got stitches this morning, and the doctor told me I can’t work for at least ten days.”
Silence.
“Steve?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Look, Spencer, Mindy isn’t going to be too happy about this.”
“I know. I’m really sorry.”
“And I don’t know if we want someone around who almost saws off his own thumb. That must’ve made a huge mess.”
The picture of his bright red blood sprayed across the white snow of the Clemson deck along with his saw and the vanilla cream painted molding came back to him with startling clarity, almost making him sick. He’d been grateful both Mary and her husband had been away at the time as he’d quickly wiped things up with a roll of paper towels while bloodying the one hand-sized cloth he carried in the truck. “Yeah, it was a little messy, but I work with the saw outside. So it’s nothing you’d have to worry about.”
What was he saying? He didn’t plan on slicing another body part again. He gave an uncertain laugh as the dullness of pain meds started to roll into his brain like a creeping fog. “Well, you’re not going to have to worry about it, because it won’t happen a second time. I’ve never done anything like this before, and once I get healed, I’ll be good to go.”
“Well, if you’d be willing to cut us a deal …” Steve snickered. “No pun intended.”
Spencer’s mind worked in slow motion, as if his brain was sifting through gray mist. He tried to focus past the pain meds. “What kind of a deal?”
“Let’s just say you take off a thousand dollars for all of this inconvenience.”
Anger pierced the heaviness in Spencer’s brain. “Steve, I already gave you my best price.”
Steve let out a sigh that sounded like sad resignation. “I guess we’ll just have to find someone else, Spencer. We felt your bid was a little high anyway. Look, rest your hand, and I’ll see you around.”
The line went dead.
Fresh anger caused his thumb to throb. The lidocaine was wearing thin, and the dull ache was beginning to turn into a sharper menace in spite of the pain pill.
Spencer cradled his hand and focused his thoughts on the job he’d just lost. He’d planned on the Jacobson kitchen remodel becoming a huge part of his winter work and finances. What was he going to do? He owed rent and Lyla a child support check in three weeks.
Lyla. If it weren’t for Kimber, Spencer would have nothing but regret for their sorry excuse of a marriage. A shocking reminder of self-reproach had rushed back at him when he’d seen her sister, Lindsey, at the urgent care.
The pain pill kicked into high gear, dulling both the throb and Spencer’s senses. Warm sleep pulled at his eyelids, begging him to slide beneath the welcoming fog that surrounded him and flowed through his body, releasing the worry weighing down his heart. Stumbling from the table, he made his way to his bedroom and slid out of clothes before crawling into the warm welcome of bed.
Three
Cressa walked through the garage door to the house to find her father sitting in the same chair she had left him in hours ago, when she had gone to work.
“Hi, darlin’,” he said.
Anxiety gave off a little ping in Cressa’s head. “Dad, have you managed to get up and about today?”
“Oh sure, darlin’,” Christopher Marshall replied. “Agnes and I made our way around the house several times.” He patted his walker that stood nearby.
A sad smile played on Cressa’s lips. She’d never thought she’d see the day when her father named his walker, but gratitude filled her for his cheerful manner. It made taking care of him easier. “Did you get something to eat?”
“Sure did. Your Mom made me lunch.”
“What was on the menu?”
A puzzled look came over her father’s expression. “Well, now … we had ham sandwiches and apples.”
Cressa smiled at her father as sadness piled up like stacked wood. “That sounds good. Mom and I will talk about dinner in a few minutes.” She moved away from her dad as she cut off the sense of loss that came with her parents. She missed their vitality and youth, her father’s strength and capability, and her mother’s thoughtfulness and quick wit. But Parkinson’s had robbed her father of his vigor, and dementia had stolen her mother’s exuberance.
She straightened her spine. She could not give in to these feelings. Her parents needed her to care for them. Their deteriorating health brought her to this place from the fast pace of Salt Lake. She wouldn’t fail them by giving in to her own grief when their losses were multiplied over hers by ten.
She walked through the house to find her mother standing in the hallway. “Mom? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, honey. Just wondering where you’ve been all day and where your sister is.”
Cressa put her arm around her mother, bringing her to the living room to sit together on the couch. “Janna is in Boston with Kirby and the kids.”
“Oh, that’s right. And you’re a doctor in Salt Lake City.” Her mother beamed at Cressa with this newly surfaced memory.
“Well, that’s where I used to live,” Cressa said. “But I left Salt Lake to be with you and Dad. Now, I live here.”
“Oh, I remember now,” her mother replied as she rubbed Cressa’s knee.
Cressa gave her mother a squeeze. “How about some dinner?”
“Oh, that’d be lovely, honey.” A childlike thrill brightened her eyes. “But before that, come with me. I want to show you something.”
Her mother’s unfettered glee brightened Cressa’s sprit as she followed her to the master bedroom. Once there, her mother sat down and patted the bed beside her. As Cressa sat, her mother stood. “Wait here.” The older woman walked into the bathroom and pulled out the bottom drawer of the vanity.
Cressa knew her mother kept her most prized jewelry in this one place tucked in the bathroom cabinet. Her curiosity rose as her mother drew out the small wooden chest. Sitting next to Cressa, she placed the box on her knees. She opened it to sh
ow several smaller boxes and picked out the white velvet ring case, pulling back the lid.
Cressa leaned in to see her mother’s familiar wedding ring. It was a lovely classic piece with a ten-carat sapphire surrounded by twelve solitaire diamonds set in white gold.
“Your father and I got married the same year as Prince Charles and Princess Diana. He knew how much I loved her ring, so he bought one just like it, although a little smaller.”
She handed it to Cressa, who gazed at it under the lamp. The diamonds sparkled, nestled against the royal-blue sapphire.
Her mother continued, “I used to wear it all the time. Do you remember?”
Cressa smiled, grateful for her mother’s memory. She handed back the ring. “I do.”
A tinge of regret crept into her mother’s voice. “Not anymore, though. It would be silly to wear it around the house, and my hands have become so frail, I’m afraid it would fall off.”
“It’s lovely, Mom.”
“Your father and I love each other very much.” An undertone of intensity filled her mother’s words.
“I know, Mom.”
“It’s important we stay together.”
“I know that, too. I’m doing my best to make sure that happens. It’s why we have to have the bathrooms remodeled. Do you remember? We talked about it last night.”
Her mother gazed at the sapphire and diamonds she held between her fingers. A long sigh escaped her. “I remember the day he proposed.”
Cressa relaxed. She’d heard this story more times than she could count, but in this moment, when the bookends of dementia crowded out her mother’s lucid present and her precious memories, Cressa gladly listened as often as her mother shared the recollection of that bright, beautiful day.
“It was spring in California, and we were hiking in the Redwoods. There is no place like spring in the Redwoods of California. The birds sang, and the sun had that special slant that comes only that time of year. We were sitting on a log, stopped for lunch, when he reached inside his backpack and pulled out this ring.” Her mother’s eyes softened at the memory. “I started to cry. I was just so happy. It was as if all of nature was celebrating with us. He slipped the ring on my finger right then. I had walked into that forest single, and I walked out engaged to your father. On that day, I was also a princess.” She squeezed Cressa’s hand. “Our life since has had its up and downs, but we’ve always loved each other, and we loved you girls from the moment of conception.”
Cressa’s sunny memories of a childhood gilded in love came to the surface of her mind. “I know, Mom.” Cressa fought back tears as beautiful memories surfaced, mingling with the pain of the present and the loss of her parents one slender strand of hair at a time. When one of them would recall some sweet recollection, her spirits lifted, and she hung on to it with her whole soul.
“Where is your sister?” Her mother looked up into Cressa’s face with sweet concern.
Cressa flagged as the memory and conversation she had shared with her mother retreated from her eyes and into the black hole of dementia, taking with it Cressa’s hope. She rubbed her mother’s shoulder in reassurance. “She’s in Boston with Kirby and the kids.”
“Oh, that’s right,” her mother said as she put away the ring.
Cressa waited for her mother to return the jewelry box before she began helping her down the hall. But every cell within her body wanted to fly back to the days of her childhood, when her mother and father were young and invincible. Tears surfaced, but she wouldn’t let them loose as she and her mother made their way to join her father. It was her turn to be the consistent and strong one. “Let’s think about some dinner, Mom.”
They made their way to the family room. Turning to her father, Cressa said, “Dad, how about if you and Agnes take a quick walk around the house?”
“There’s no need, darlin’,” her father said. “Agnes and I are fine just where we are.”
Cressa didn’t argue. Instead, she settled her mother on the couch, pushed the remote for the television, and hurried to make dinner.
From behind the island stove, she could see her parents quietly holding hands as they watched TV together. Pushing away all sadness and anxiety, she focused on trying to figure out how to improve their lives. After being here for almost three months, she understood what would help her parents.
First, she needed to have the bathrooms enlarged and remodeled in order to help with their lack of motor skills. The hardwood floors were easily navigated, and the living room rugs were thin enough not to cause a problem. Still, she worried about her parents during the day. She troubled over the possibilities of what she might walk into when she came home. What if her father took a tumble? Would her mother think to call her? What if her mother wandered away from the house and forgot how to get home?
Guilt covered Cressa like a cold blanket of snow as she gazed over her parents. Maybe she shouldn’t have taken the job at the urgent care center. She shook that thought away. They needed the money. If she wanted to remodel her parents’ home, she had to work.
Her concerns didn’t just focus on the house. Her parents’ small ranch needed care, and if she wanted to hire someone for the work, that would also take money.
Cressa had barely stepped outside since she’d arrived, and she needed to do a thorough assessment of everything associated with the ranch. Her cousin, Andrew McPherson, came out twice a day. He fed and watered their dozen cows. Much of the time, she heard him tinkering in the shop. She didn’t know what he was doing, only that the necessary work of taking care of the animals and equipment was getting done, and he refused to charge them for his time and effort.
Cressa’s thoughts drifted toward her cousin. Andrew rarely engaged her. Other than a quick bob of the head and a tip of the hat, he went about his business in silence, and she was too exhausted to ask any questions.
Andrew was six years younger than her, and although she appreciated his help, her gratitude was accompanied by unease because of his brush with the law. Cressa’s mother had told her the whole story eighteen months ago with Andrew’s arrest. He and his brother, Joshua, had been caught red-handed rustling cows from a neighboring ranch. Joshua was in deeper trouble. After the boys’ parents bailed them out, Joshua ended up back in jail awaiting trial on several counts, including possession of heroin and domestic abuse.
So far, Andrew had managed to stay out of jail. Did that mean he was steering clear of any wrongdoing, or was he just smarter than his brother? Edginess filtered through Cressa’s gratitude.
She appreciated Andrew’s help, though, especially now. Her father could not care for their animals or the land and outbuildings. With her schedule and taking care of her folks, everything else tumbled down to the bottom of her to-do list. She didn’t know what they would do without Andrew. But could she trust him?
When she’d arrived from Salt Lake, Andrew had greeted her with an easy but wary smile, informing her that he’d been coming twice a day to look after the cows and other livestock. He also made sure she understood he never stepped inside the house. She accepted his claim but wondered why he felt the need to make it.
Their age difference caused Cressa’s memories of Andrew to be vague. When it came to Joshua, who was two years older than his brother, her recollections were a little clearer, but none of them were happy. Joshua was a bully from the time he was a child, bossing around anyone who was smaller or weaker than him, including his brother, Andrew. He left Cressa and her sister, Janna, alone. Mostly because they were older, and Cressa had bloodied his lip when she’d caught him pulling her sister’s hair.
Cressa did have happier memories of her Aunt Jillina, her mother’s sister, even though her husband, Uncle Jed, scared her as a child. He was a big man with a loud, booming voice, who seemed capable of behavior that moved in that murky space beyond Cressa’s childhood knowledge. Now, as an adult, she wondered if he was just a little gruff.
He was a very different man from her father, who was soft-spoke
n and transparent in his love for his family. There were no unknowns with her father, and he made Cressa feel safe. He’d worked as a plumber, until he’d finally retired and moved from California to his wife’s hometown.
Their family life and Cressa’s youth brushed by like a painted canvas of warm, sunny summers filled with bike rides, lemonade, and trips to the beach, while her winters were full of school days and warm cocoa.
As much as she loved her protected childhood, it didn’t prepare her very well for the rigors of adulthood or the relationships that inhabited life beyond high school crushes.
Onlookers called her a stunning success. She was a doctor, and a good one. Her two years in the University of Utah Medical Center emergency room were filled with sharp thinking and clear direction. That was where her accomplishments ended. Somewhere in that frenetic world, she had left bits of her humanity. It lay on the ER floor to be swept up with the rest of the biomedical waste.
It was something that had worried Owen soon after they started working together and dating. He had caught up with Cressa in the doctor’s lounge as their long shift came to a close.
“Maybe you’d be better suited for family practice,” he suggested one evening after a twelve-hour shift that had left Cressa exhausted and in tears.
She turned on him, irritated that he believed she wasn’t cut out for the rigors of ER work. “I’m not interested in family practice,” she shot back. “I hate the whole insurance thing. I just want to treat people.”
“It’s not like there aren’t flurries of paperwork in the ER,” Owen argued. “We still have to document everything. It’s just different paperwork. That’s all.”
Weariness overcame her, and she sank into the chair. “I can do this,” she said. “It’ll just take some getting used to.”
Owen sat beside her. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Your tender heart does you credit, Cressa. Don’t throw it away so you can work in this place. Working in the ER isn’t for everybody.”
Sapphires And Sagebrush (Country Brides & Cowboy Boots) Page 2