by Heidi Hormel
“Limpy, Limpy,” Cal said standing in the doorway to the kitchen.
“It sounds as if Cal needs me,” Olympia said as she levered herself up, seeing in Cal’s pale face a mixture of delight and...fear? She heard the distinct sound of a horseshoe striking linoleum and hurried faster. “Sheets,” she said with feeling as she finally came into the kitchen to find Pasquale standing halfway through the open patio slider, his front quarters squarely in the room. His neck was stretched out, and his teeth were showing in a stupid grin that looked more threatening than it was. Cal had taught the horse that trick. The kid had talent. Why was he trying to show it off now?
Spence stormed into the kitchen and up to the horse, his tension rippling through her, too. “Calvin Leonard MacCormack, get this horse out of the house. What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Spence stepped forward, and Olympia opened her mouth to remind him of Pasquale’s protective streak. Too late. The horse’s yellow teeth flashed out, grabbed Spence by the upper arm and bit down hard...if her husband’s manly screech meant anything. Pasquale let go, shook his head and calmly backed up, turned and trotted across the yard to the barn.
“Pasquale and I wanted to show that guy our tricks,” Cal said, pointing to the examiner who stood on the kitchen’s threshold, “so he can see that I’m a cowboy and I need to stay here.”
Olympia couldn’t give in to the tears that sprang to her eyes. “I don’t think Mr. Miller is a horseman,” she said calmly. “Everything is just fine. Our horses are so well trained that they come to the house when their water buckets are empty. I’ll take care of that after your visit.” She waited until the examiner headed back to the living room. Then she leaned in and whispered to Cal. “Quick like a bunny, make sure Pasquale is in his stall with the latch on, then you can play on the computer in your room. Get your dad’s laptop from the kitchen.” The boy genius had just acted more like a boy than a genius. Why did it have to be today?
In the kitchen, Spence twisted his arm to see where Pasquale had grabbed him. No blood, thank goodness. “Do you need ice?” she asked softly. She didn’t want any trouble from the man who’d decide the future of her family—dear Lord, her family? Was that how she really felt?
“What is it about me that makes your horses think I’m food?” he whispered at her, his brows drawn down in disapproval.
She shrugged and rubbed her hand over her belly, trying to soothe the baby. “We’d better get back in there.”
Spence reached out to grab her arm. “Olympia, we’ve got to impress this guy.”
“I know. I’m trying. Don’t you think we handled the parenting challenge of a horse in the kitchen well? I mean, I didn’t kill Cal or yell at him. That has to get us points.”
“Pretty low bar,” Spence said as he followed her to the living room, where the examiner sat primly on the recliner.
“Mrs. MacCormack, how do you handle disciplinary situations like this?”
A pain shot from Olympia’s back to her belly button as she tried to sit. She forced a smile. The pain had to be a fake contraction from the tension and strain of cleaning the house. “Well, sir,” she started when she finally settled into her seat, rubbing her belly to ease the lingering ache, “Spence and I work together to ensure that our discipline is both fair and firm.”
He typed into his laptop much longer than Olympia thought it should take for her answer. “How do you plan to ensure that Calvin maintains a relationship with his birth mother?”
Olympia felt Spence’s anxiety. “We plan to keep an open line of communication with his biological mother and work with Cal on determining the level of engagement that suits his emotional maturity.” Whew. She and Spence had talked about the answer for that question. Another twinge moved from her back to her belly. She rubbed at it absently.
“Sweetie,” Spence said, his tone taut. “Are you okay?”
She immediately stopped rubbing her stomach and sat up a bit straighter. “Sorry. The baby...” She trailed off. The inquiry had gone on for more than an hour.
“Not many more questions, Mrs. MacCormack,” the examiner said, tapping on the laptop again. Then his head lifted and he sniffed the air, his nose twitching. “What is that smell? Is there another problem in the kitchen?”
Olympia took a deep breath—as deep as she could—and nearly choked. Spence’s perfectly straight nose wrinkled in disgust. “I’m not sure,” Olympia answered calmly, but then she heard it. Cal’s whisper and a cut-off squeal. She forced herself from the chair. “Excuse me. It sounds like Cal might need some help in the kitchen,” she said, and added, “No need for you to come out, honey.” She’d identified the smell. It had been years, but it wasn’t a stink that anyone would forget.
“Shh, Petunia,” she heard Cal’s little-boy whisper as she entered the kitchen. And there it was: a javelina, which right now was earning its “skunk pig” nickname. A small one, thank God, but the stench was overpowering. Nausea raced up her throat, but she fought it down. She had to get Cal and the smelly wild animal out of the house before Mr. Judgmental saw them.
“Out. What are you thinking?” She came closer, holding her hand over her nose and pointing to the back door.
“Limpy, she’s hurt. Pasquale kicked her.” Cal looked up, his blue eyes gleaming with tears.
“I’m sure she’s fine.”
“I think her leg is broken.” The javelina struggled in Cal’s grip and let out a little squeal before he could force her snout under his arm to quiet her.
“Sweetie,” Spence called from the living room. “Everything okay?”
“Just a second,” she called back. To Cal she said, “You know how important this is to your dad...and to me. Just a little more time, then I’ll help you with the javelina. You need to take her back outside. She’s a wild animal. I’m sure her mama’s looking for her.”
“I don’t think so, or why would she have been in the barn? Pasquale’s very sorry.”
“I’m sure he is, but we can’t have the javelina in the house. She stinks.”
“I know, but her leg...” Cal said, and now Olympia could see what he meant. There was definitely something wrong.
Olympia felt bad for the little thing, which had a certain babyish cuteness, despite the odor. She pressed her hand to her own baby, who chose that moment for a powerful kick that rattled her kidneys and made her back ache. “She’ll be fine if you put her on the patio.” Cal shook his head, his blond hair flying.
“She needs the emergency vet.”
Olympia closed her eyes to gather enough patience and strength to calm the baby and to get Cal to cooperate.
“What the heck are you two doing out here?” Spence asked in a low whisper.
Olympia’s eyes popped open. She hadn’t heard him come in. Cal squeaked, and the little animal squealed and scrambled from his arms, hopping along the floor, holding its front leg at an odd angle.
“Dad,” Cal started as she hissed, “Spence, hush.”
The stench increased, and Olympia’s nausea went from DEFCON 4 to 2.
“Take that animal outside before we asphyxiate,” Spence said.
“Excuse me,” the examiner said, joining Spence in the doorway. “What is that?” He pointed to the little animal.
“A javelina,” Cal said. “Her name is Petunia.”
“First a dangerous horse, and now you have allowed your son to bring a wild pig into the house? With his health issues?”
“I just found her in the barn. Pasquale was mad because he couldn’t stay in the kitchen for his snack and stomped on Petunia. Her leg is broken.” Cal scrambled along the floor as he tried to catch the hopping piglike creature, who beelined for the examiner, looked up, grunted, let go another cloud of stink and peed on his shoes. “Petunia didn’t mean to,” Cal said. “Don’t paddle her ass.”
Spence and O
lympia gasped together as they looked from Cal to the man who had their future in his hands. His face screwed up in distaste. “I’ve seen and heard enough.”
Spence followed the man from the kitchen. Olympia leaned against the wall, hoping her legs would hold her. “Oh, Cal.”
“Petunia didn’t mean to pee on his shoes.”
“Why would you say that about paddling?”
He dropped his head as he cradled the smelly animal, who seemed to be sleeping now. “It’s what Roger said his stepmom says whenever he does something bad.”
Olympia saw his lip trembling and knew the boy felt awful. None of it would make any difference now. They’d have to hope that Spence’s attorney found a good explanation, or they were all toast.
“Let’s call my sister in Arkansas,” she said to the boy. “She works as a vet tech. I bet she’ll know what to do for Petunia.”
* * *
SPENCE LISTENED TO his attorney sputter and bluster on the phone as he drummed his fingers on his office desk. He didn’t need the other man to let him know that the examiner’s visit had been a disaster. He’d lived it. Worse, the damned pig now resided in a box that Olympia and Lavonda had rigged up on the patio, stinking up the outside.
“I’ve got to go,” he cut off his attorney in middiatribe. “I’m up to my neck in work. Do what you can. I can get character witnesses, whatever. Email me. Bye.”
Talking about that disastrous visit gave Spence indigestion. He opened his bottom drawer, searching for a TUMS, Maalox, anything to put out the fire.
Should he call Missy and try to reason with her? Really, her parents were driving the court case. He discovered a roll of TUMS at the back of the drawer and chewed three of them. Could this be sympathy heartburn? That was what Olympia told him when he complained. She said that he needed to be quiet because she had the real thing; his was just pretend.
They’d been getting along fine, despite the stress, especially at night. Except the past few nights when she’d been too restless to sleep, staying up to watch rodeo reruns. He’d found her asleep on the recliner, her hand protectively cupped over her belly, early this morning. She also said that she had to stay in the living room because it was close to the kitchen and the door that led onto the patio where the little javelina resided. According to Calvin, who’d looked up the animal, the stench was from fear, and Petunia wasn’t a pig but a peccary. Spence had told his son that there was no way she was afraid. She had a cozy box, plus food and clean bedding. The local rehab center wouldn’t take her to be released into the wild until the broken leg healed—which to set had cost seven hundred and fifty dollars he didn’t have. He’d have to find more money for his attorney somewhere, because this would be a fight. Maybe letters of support from his brother and Jessie would help. The men and women from the Hope’s Ride program would give him good references, along with at least two other attorneys in the firm. He hoped that the court didn’t dig too deeply into Olympia’s family. If they did, they were sunk.
Where would they find next semester’s tuition for Rickie and the money for animal feed? He’d thought once he got Calvin through surgery, then everything else would be smooth sailing.
His personal cell buzzed. Thank God. He needed the distraction. “Yes.”
“Hello to you, too,” Olympia said. Her voice sounded unstrained and light. “I’ve been thinking about that visit with Ferret Face.”
“With who?”
“That examiner. Anyway,” she said, dragging out the word, “we need to send letters or testimonies to the judge.”
“Great minds think alike. I had just decided that we should contact Jessie and her crew. Get them to write letters. That’s how they saved Hope’s Ride.”
“Do you think we have time?”
“Yes.”
“Are you okay? You sound queasy.”
“Just my stomach.”
“I swear, man...do you have TUMS? Or Pepto?”
“It’s just this visit. It might’ve been okay. But Petunia.”
“Peeing on the guy was not her finest moment.”
“That pig doesn’t have any finest moments.”
“Come on, she’s pretty darned cute.”
“Not you, too? She’s not staying. She’s a wild animal...who stinks.”
“I know. I can smell her, and I’m in the living room. Dang. Cal,” she yelled, “put Petunia in her cage. That’s it. I’ve got to go and make sure he puts her back. We’re not supposed to get her too used to humans or they won’t be able to release her.”
“Go,” Spence said. He couldn’t decide if the new churning he felt was more sympathy heartburn or that twisted, couldn’t-put-a-name-to-it feeling that he got every time he looked at Olympia.
“See you at dinner. Bye. Cal...”
He stared at the phone and stopped himself from thumping his head on his desk. He was going crazy. He knew that she’d be leaving soon. His heartburn crept up his throat, making his eyes water. She had her own dreams and own life. He’d agreed to that. He didn’t get to change the rules now.
Chapter Fourteen
Spence held his breath as he walked onto the patio, until he saw that Petunia was asleep. Thank God. No stench. Olympia made her way through the door behind him. She might complain that she was huge, but he liked—really liked—her rounded softness. He wanted her badly. He shifted, knowing his jeans couldn’t hide what he felt and also knowing that just six weeks away from the birth, she wasn’t up for anything other than cuddling.
“Petunia’s finally settled,” she said. “I thought I’d strangle Cal when he brought her into the house again. I’ve told him and told him—”
“He’s a kid.”
“He’s a smart kid. I don’t know what he was thinking.”
“That he wanted to play with the pig. That’s what he told me when I saw him digging in the yard. He said that you told him to make sure there weren’t any weeds or no supper for him or Petunia.”
“I didn’t know how else to discipline him.” The only sound on the patio was the little snore from Petunia followed by a soft snuffle. “Maybe Ferret Face is right to not recommend full custody while I’m in the picture.”
“What?”
“I just said I wanted to strangle Cal.”
“So? I think that ten times an hour when I’m home. He’s a kid. I love him to death, but that boy can try the patience of three saints and a nun on Sundays, darlin’.”
She didn’t laugh. “Mama used to get mad like that.”
Now he understood. She continued to insist she had no parenting instincts, which he just didn’t get. He pulled her to him, rocking her a little bit, feeling the roundness of the new baby against his belly. “You’re not like your mother. You have so much patience with Calvin. A lot more than Missy. More than I do some days.”
“I...I don’t want to be barefoot and pregnant, reliant on some man to pay the bills. That’s what Mama always said we’d be.”
“You’re not. You have very nice boots on your feet, and your sisters—not one of them is pregnant or barefoot or—”
She sighed, laid her head on his shoulder. “I can’t wear the darned boots. My feet are too swollen.”
He couldn’t stop himself from looking down at her pudgy feet in the dollar-store flip-flops. She kept her head lowered. “I’m so scared, Spence,” she whispered, and he heard tears in her voice.
“I am, too. What do I know about raising a girl? How can I handle two children? How will I ever beat Calvin at Hedgehog at Saguaro Sal’s?”
He felt her body shake a little with laughter. He gave her one final squeeze, wishing that he knew how to give her more comfort.
* * *
MAMA WAS RIGHT. Men were just weird. Pasquale stuck his head out of the stall and shook it at her.
; “You’re weird, too,” she told the sweet horse. What else could explain Spence’s increased interest in her now that her pregnancy clothes were getting tight? Two stalls down, Muffin curled his lip at Olympia, his way of “suggesting” that she owed him butter-rum muffins.
The baby kicked her ribs. How could she get back in shape enough to care for the ranch? Plus, Rickie would need more help to pay for next year’s tuition, too. Olympia scuffed along the cement floor to Muffin’s stall. She tried to take her steps carefully since she couldn’t see her feet and was forced to wear sandals. Cowgirls didn’t wear sandals. Another reason that she’d never be doing this pregnancy thing again.
“Muffin, what am I going to do with you?” He snapped his teeth at Olympia, his usual greeting when she came without a treat. “Stop being such a diva. Look at Pasquale. He’s happy with whatever life sends him. But you? You’re in a nice clean barn, you’ve got grain and someone to groom you and you still complain. Who will take you on, Muffin?” The horse pulled at the wood of his stall, tearing off a long splinter. “Stop that.” Olympia reached out and grabbed his halter. Muffin pulled her forward. Olympia felt herself falling.
“Limpy,” Cal screamed, and skinny little boy arms grabbed at her. Olympia caught herself just before she landed on her butt on the floor. “Did you hurt Peanut?”
“No, we’re okay. Thank you. You saved me.” She gasped a little from fear and the bent-over position that pushed the baby against her lungs.
“Dad told me come out and tell you that ‘you shouldn’t be in the barn, that’s why we pay someone.’”
“We don’t pay Lavonda. I was just visiting with Pasquale and Muffin.”
“I know. He doesn’t understand. You know he wouldn’t even let me get a fish. I bet you could talk him into letting me have a dog. Since you won’t let me keep Petunia. I mean, you’re married and everything.”
Olympia heard the note of fear and anxiety in Cal’s voice. Married. Not for much longer, said a mocking voice in her head. She told the voice to pipe down and said, “That doesn’t mean that we always agree.”