Cowboy at the Crossroads

by Linda Warren

  “Can I see her?” she asked with a catch in her voice. “I’d like to examine her.”

  “Sure.” He got up and led the way toward the stairs. At the bottom, he stepped aside to let her go first. She wore medium heels and felt dwarfed by his height. But it wasn’t only that. She was very aware of Cord Prescott—as a man. Maybe it was the cowboy thing. That persona intrigued her, as it did most women. Or maybe she just empathized with him because of what he was suffering, because of his grief and his fear for his daughter.

  “Second door on the left,” Cord said as they reached the landing. There were hardwood floors throughout the house and beautiful area rugs. A lot of the furniture was antique, probably dating from when the house was first built. Portraits of Prescott men were displayed on the wall of the staircase. Becca remembered Colton telling her that all the Prescott men’s names began with the letter C; it was a tradition kept alive from generation to generation. She wondered why there were no pictures of Prescott women or wives. They could be in another area of the house, she supposed, and she would definitely ask Colton about it.

  Cord opened the door and they went inside. Nicki sat in a children’s rocker clutching the same doll she had a year ago. Becca was dismayed by what she saw. The child’s blond curly hair was neatly combed and in pigtails, and she wore pink shorts, a matching top and sandals—but her cheeks were hollow and her little arms and legs were so thin. She reminded Becca of anorexic teenagers she’d seen. What had happened to this child?

  Cord squatted beside her. “Baby, we have company. Do you remember Becca?”

  Nicki hid her face in the doll’s hair. Just as she had a year ago.

  Becca knelt on the floor. “It was a long time ago, but I told you the story about Cinderella and the prince. The prince who rode a horse like your daddy. Do you remember?”

  Nicki shook her head and didn’t look at her.

  “Would you like me to tell you another story?”

  Nicki shook her head again, but Becca wasn’t giving up.

  “I know lots of stories,” Becca said. “Of course, most of them are about monsters or scary stuff that my brother, Scotty, likes. But we’re girls and we don’t care for that kind of nonsense, do we.”

  Nicki still didn’t answer and seemed to burrow into the chair.

  “Baby, Becca asked you a question,” Cord said softly. Nicki still didn’t respond. “Look at me, baby,” Cord added in that same soft tone.

  Nicki slowly raised her head and stared at Cord. “I’m tired, Daddy. Make her go ’way.”

  Becca’s heart sank, although she didn’t know why, since she hadn’t expected any miracles. It was just so painful seeing the child in this condition.

  “I’m a doctor, Nicki,” she told her. “I’m going to check your vital signs. Is that okay?”

  Nicki didn’t answer, but Cord nodded. Becca opened her bag and took out her stethoscope. Nicki’s signs were weak, and Becca knew she was in a danger zone. Her first reaction was to get her to a hospital immediately, but something held her back. The hospital would only frighten Nicki, and she wanted to try a different approach first.

  “Daddy, make her go ’way,” Nicki whimpered, when Becca had finished her exam.

  “Okay, baby,” Cord said, smoothing Nicki’s hair. Becca noticed that his hand shook slightly. “Della made some chocolate chip cookies. Why don’t I get you one.”

  “Not hungry.”

  “Please eat something, baby.” The ache in Cord’s voice squeezed Becca’s heart until she had trouble breathing.

  “I’m not hungry, Daddy.”

  “Okay, baby,” Cord said, and kissed her cheek. He got up, and they walked back down the stairs and into the den.

  Cord started to pace; she could see he was terribly upset. “I can’t take much more of this. I can’t stand to see her in this state.”

  “Yes, she has deteriorated. Her body’s starved for nourishment, she’s dehydrated and her heart is weak.”

  “I don’t know what else to do!”

  Becca knew it was time for some hard truths, and Cord wasn’t going to like what she had to say. But in the few minutes she’d been with them, she could see what part of the problem was.

  “Are you familiar with the term enabler?”

  He stopped pacing and stared at her. “What?”

  “An enabler, Cord. That’s what you are. You’re enabling Nicki to stay in that room. You’re enabling her not to eat. You’re enabling her to do whatever she wants.”

  His eyes darkened. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “If Nicki doesn’t want to eat, you don’t make her. If she wants to stay in her room, you let her. You’re giving in to her every whim—and it has to stop.”

  His eyes became blacker, if that was possible. “My God, you want me to force her to eat and to drag her out of her room?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Becca admitted.

  “After what my daughter’s been through, I would never do that to her.”

  Becca swallowed the constriction in her throat. “It’s called tough love, and you have to do something, or Nicki will not survive this. Can’t you see that?”

  Cord swung away in anger, then swung back. “I think you should leave,” he said in the coldest voice she’d ever heard. “You’re not the doctor or the woman I thought you were.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “NO,” BECCA SAID without blinking.

  “Excuse me?” Cord said, and she was chilled by his scorn.

  “You asked me to help Nicki, and I’m not leaving until I get that chance.”

  “I’ve changed my mind.”

  She watched the stubborn look on his face and knew he was struggling with his own emotions. He didn’t want anyone to hurt Nicki—ever again. He wanted what was best for his child, but he was blinded by love.

  “Sorry, it doesn’t work that way,” she told him. “I’m here and I’m staying. You can clearly see that Nicki needs help. That’s why you called me. At her age, her muscles and bones are developing, but without nourishment, that growth is being hindered. You may not like my methods, but for Nicki’s sake, you have to give me a chance.”

  “I won’t allow her to be upset.”

  His voice wasn’t as angry or cold as before, and Becca felt a glimmer of hope. “Is being upset worse than the almost catatonic state she’s in now?”

  He didn’t answer, just stared at her with brooding eyes.

  Becca kept on. “She’s going to get upset, Cord. You might as well resign yourself to that. She’ll be reacting to external stimuli, and that’s what she needs instead of this inert passivity.”

  He ran both hands through his hair in a weary gesture and sank into a chair. “I just can’t take it when she cries.”

  At the pain in his voice, she took a deep breath. “Why don’t you go outside and let me spend some time with her,” she suggested, knowing she would get nowhere with Nicki if Cord was around.

  His eyes met hers. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “You have to,” she said, her eyes not wavering from his. “I have to reach Nicki on some level, and I can’t do that with you present.”

  He didn’t say anything and Becca added, “At this point she needs to be in a hospital unless I can do something with her right now. You can either let me try, or call for an ambulance. It’s your choice.”

  His face turned white and he drew in a long, shuddering breath. “Fine, you have until eight o’clock. Just be very careful, Becca. There is just so much I’ll allow.”

  “I will not do anything that will harm her physically or mentally.”

  “That’s all I need to know,” he said as he moved past her.

  “Cord,” she said, and he turned back. “If you hear Nicki crying, please don’t come inside.”

  There was a moment of indecision in his eyes, then he walked out the door.

  Becca removed her jacket as she went into the kitchen. She had a plan in mind and it started with dinner. A g
ray-haired woman was putting meringue on a pie.

  “Hi.” Becca smiled. “I’m Becca Talbert and I’m hoping you’re the housekeeper.”

  The woman glanced up. “That’s me. My name is Della. What can I do for you?”

  “What time does Nicki usually have dinner?”

  “Dinnertime is six o’clock, but with the way that child eats, it’s anybody’s guess.”

  “I’m not trying to be nosy, but could you tell me how many people will be here for dinner?”

  “Edie eats in her room and Blanche is out, as usual, so there’ll be you and Cord.”

  “I see,” Becca murmured. “Do you mind if I ask what you’re preparing?”

  Della lifted an eyebrow. “That’s a popular question today, but we’re having roast, new potatoes, carrots and fresh green beans.” She pointed to a pan of rolls. “Homemade rolls are rising, and I just finished making a chocolate pie.”

  “Does Nicki like any of these things?”

  Della shrugged. “When Anette was alive, Nicki ate almost anything. She loved chocolate pie. Used to stick her finger in the chocolate and lick it off and Anette would get mad. She wanted Nicki to be a proper lady and act like a grown-up.” Della shook her head. “The woman was very peculiar.”

  “Sounds as if you didn’t like her.”

  “Like?” Della seemed to study the word for a moment. “Can’t really say. All I know is she got on my nerves. Too damn picky. All the food for Nicki had to be cooked at a certain temperature and it couldn’t stay out too long and she wanted everything made from scratch. She also insisted that Nicki eat at certain times, never mind the rest of the household. In that case, I told her, she needed to cook the food herself, but she never did. I don’t think she knew how to cook. She was a city girl with city ways and she hated this ranch.”

  “But she loved Cord and Nicki?” Becca knew she was gossiping but she couldn’t resist. Besides, she told herself, she might learn some valuable piece of information, some fact that might help her.

  “Oh yeah, that’s why she stayed.” Della put the meringue bowl in the sink. “I never knew she was drinking so much and neither did Cord. She hid it well. Such a tragedy.” Della shook her head again. “Cord locked up her room and nothing in there’s been touched since.”

  It was a tragedy, Becca thought, and now it was time to heal—for the whole Prescott family. “Colton mentioned that she’d been on antidepressants, too.”

  “That’s right. After Nicki was born, she just seemed to hit rock bottom. On the days she felt really bad, Edie or I would watch the baby. Cord wanted to hire a nurse, but Anette wouldn’t have it. She wanted to care for her child. She really did.”

  “Then, Anette was a good mother.”

  “Yes, even I will admit that. Nicki was never out of her sight for long. I guess that’s why the little one’s taking this so hard.”

  Becca brought her concentration back to the present and Nicki. She’d been gossiping too long with Della. Something she didn’t normally do, but she was very curious about Anette. And Della had definitely filled in some of the background facts.

  “Would you please set a place for Nicki at dinner?” Becca asked.

  Della turned from the sink with a startled expression. “She’s coming down to eat?”

  “Yes,” Becca said with more confidence than she was feeling. “I’m going up to see her now, and Della, if you hear her crying or complaining, please don’t interfere.”

  “Does Cord know about this?” Della inquired, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “Yes,” Becca answered, heading for the stairs. As she walked up, she silently prayed that she could get through to Nicki. She opened the door and found Nicki sitting exactly as they’d left her—and Becca knew she had to use drastic measures to shock Nicki back into the real world. To do that, she had to be strong and keep her emotions in check.

  She knelt in front of the rocker. “Hi, Nicki,” she said cheerfully. “My name is Becca. I told you that before, remember?”

  No response, as she had expected.

  “I’m a doctor and I take care of girls and boys. If they don’t feel well, I try to make them feel better. Do you feel bad?”

  No response.

  In Becca’s experience, it was sometimes easier for a child to talk through an object like a toy. She focused on the doll in Nicki’s arms. “What’s your doll’s name?”

  Again no response.

  She sat on the floor in a comfortable position. “I had a doll similar to that when I was your age. My sis—” She stopped as she realized she was about to say sister—a minor slip of the tongue. It was so hard to think of Emily as her mother when she remembered herself at that age. Lord, she was getting sidetracked and it was a weird feeling, but one she could handle. “Actually, my mother bought me the doll. She bought me lots of dolls, but I liked that one best. I named her Chocolate because I love chocolate, and I called her Coco for short. Does your doll have a name?” Becca held her breath as she waited.

  Nothing.

  “It’s important for a doll to have a name, don’t you think?”

  Still nothing.

  “She has blond hair like you, so is her name Nicki?”

  Nicki rubbed her head against the doll’s. “Dolly,” she murmured.

  “That’s nice,” Becca said, grateful for a response. She knew that if she kept talking, kept pushing, Nicki would respond in some way. She was hoping for a positive reaction, but she’d take anything at this point. “Does Dolly like to eat?”

  Nicki shook her head.

  “That’s a shame, because Della’s prepared this wonderful meal. I was just down in the kitchen and the smell alone was a real treat. She’s made this chocolate pie that has a fluffy meringue about three inches thick. Do you like chocolate pie?”

  “No. Go ’way. I don’t like you,” Nicki said in a defiant tone.

  Good, Becca thought. Now they were getting somewhere. She had to keep pushing.

  “You don’t have to like me, but I’ve come all this way to see you and I expect you to eat dinner with me.”

  “I’m not hungry. Go ’way.”

  Becca reached up, and caught Nicki’s face with both hands and forced the child to look at her. “I’m not going away and you’re coming downstairs to eat.”

  “No.” Nicki spat the word. “Daddy says I don’t have to and you can’t make me.”

  Becca still held her face and looked into those angry eyes. “I’m going to pick you up and we’re going downstairs.” As she said the words, she got to her feet and gathered Nicki in her arms. This action was met with resistance. Nicki began to cry “No, no, no” and hit at Becca with her free hand and her feet. Becca kept walking; the blows to her face, neck and legs didn’t stop her. Halfway down the stairs, Nicki began to scream, blood-curdling screams. Becca still didn’t stop.

  CORD JUMPED TO HIS FEET when he heard the screams. He ran for the patio door, then halted abruptly when he heard Becca’s words. “Please don’t come inside.” He turned and went back to his chair, but the screams continued. What was she doing to his baby? He marched back to the door and stopped again. God, how was he supposed to handle this? He wanted his child to get better, but he couldn’t take this. Each scream was tearing his heart out. He grasped the doorknob.

  WHEN BECCA REACHED the bottom step she sat down, with Nicki still fighting and screaming in her arms. Suddenly Becca screamed as loudly as Nicki. Nicki stopped and stared at her with tear-filled eyes.

  “I can scream as loudly as you,” Becca informed her in a calm voice. “So are we going to scream or eat dinner?”

  “I don’t like you,” Nicki muttered, rubbing her eyes.

  “I don’t like you too much right now, either,” Becca replied.

  “You’re mean,” Nicki said crossly.

  “I don’t want to be mean,” Becca told her.

  Nicki didn’t answer. She still had a death grip on Dolly, who was looking a little worn and tattered. Now was the time fo
r a softer approach.

  “Dolly seems so sad,” Becca said.

  “She is,” Nicki told her.

  “Oh, that’s too bad. What do you think will make her feel better?”

  Nicki shrugged.

  “Chocolate always makes me feel better.”

  “Candy?” Nicki’s eyes opened wide. She was talking, asking questions. That was good—very good.

  “Yes, when I’ve had a long day and I’m tired, a chocolate bar perks me right up.”

  “It does?”

  “Sure does, but even though I love chocolate, chocolate doesn’t love me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because when you get to be a woman my age, you have to watch your weight and if I eat a lot of chocolate, my butt gets bigger and bigger.”

  “You got a big butt?”

  Becca laughed out loud. She couldn’t help it. Why in the world had she said that? She just wanted to keep Nicki talking, and the words seemed to come of their own volition. How could she correct this?

  Before she could gather her wits, Cord came charging in, Della right behind him. Nicki immediately crawled off Becca’s lap and ran to her father. He picked her up and held her tight.

  “How’s my baby?” he whispered.

  Nicki pointed a finger at Becca. “She’s mean. I wanna go to my room.”

  Just like that, Nicki had reverted to her old self. Becca got to her feet. Her eyes locked with Cord’s. Don’t you dare was flashing in their depths, and she hoped he got the message.

  Cord received the message loud and clear. Thirty minutes ago he would’ve taken Nicki back upstairs. When he heard her scream, it was a certainty. Then he’d gone into the den and heard Nicki talking to Becca in a normal tone of voice. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, but she was interacting with Becca—something she hadn’t done with anyone in a long time. Now he had to look at himself. Was he an enabler, as Becca had said? Was he enabling Nicki to be the way she was because he didn’t have the strength or the courage to do anything else? Yes, he was. He could see that. Now he had to try some of that tough love Becca had talked about. Nicki’s future depended on it.