Cowboy at the Crossroads

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Cowboy at the Crossroads Page 24

by Linda Warren


  She called Gin several times but was unable to reach her. The Fourth of July arrived, and Becca planned to stay home in her apartment, but the family was having a barbecue at her parents’ so she went. She enjoyed seeing everyone. When she got there, Emily, Rose and Aunt Maude were in the kitchen preparing lunch. Jackson was at the grill keeping an eye on the meat. Grandpa George and Owen were playing ball with Scotty. So Becca sat on the patio swing by herself, staring off into space and wondering what Cord and Nicki were doing. Did they miss her?

  Jackson sat down beside her. “When I see that look on your face, I really want to hurt Cord Prescott,” he said.

  She glanced at her father. “But you won’t,” she said with certainty.

  “No, because I love you too much.”

  “Thanks, Daddy,” she murmured.

  There was silence for a while. Then she asked in a low voice, “How do you feel about Cord and me?”

  “When your mother first told me, I wasn’t too happy,” he confessed. “It was the age issue, but after I thought about it I changed my mind. I know Cord, and he’s a good man. I guess what I’m saying is that the only thing I want is your happiness and if Cord makes you happy, then I’m all for it.”

  “I love him, Daddy,” she said softly.

  “I know.”

  “I never thought love would be like this—with such incredible highs and devastating lows.”

  “Angel, we all go through it. Just give Cord some time to get over this. And remember, once you find true love, never let it go.”

  She managed a smile. “This is from personal experience?”

  “You’re damn right it is,” he replied strongly. “I thought I’d die when your mom pushed me away after we found out you were our daughter.”

  “But you got through it?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “It took time, but now we have you and Scotty…and so much more.”

  Her parents had endured much, but now they were happy. Would things work out as well for her and Cord? She honestly didn’t know.

  She turned to face her father, knowing she could talk about anything with him. “You’ve known the Prescotts a long time.”

  “I met Clay in college. He was younger than me, but we became good friends.”

  “Did you ever meet the older Mr. Prescott?”

  “Yes, lots of times. He gave Clay his share of the money to start our computer company. He’d come every couple of months to see how we were doing.”

  “Did Blanche come with him?”

  “Sure. I don’t think he went anywhere without her.”

  “What was she like then?”

  “Same as she is now,” he told her. “Rough around the edges. She said what was on her mind and couldn’t care less if it offended anyone, but Mr. Prescott adored her. She was so much younger than him, but they got along really well.”

  “What was Mr. Prescott like?”

  “Well…” Jackson thought for a minute. “He was his own man—did things his way. Didn’t care what people thought. At times he was hard and overbearing, but he loved his sons. Whenever he came to San Antonio, he’d throw Clay into a panic with all his instructions on how we should run the business. But when he left there’d be tears in his eyes as he shook Clay’s hand and asked if he had enough money to pay the bills and eat. He didn’t want Clay doing without.”

  Becca ran her hand along her bare leg. This was what she needed—to talk about Cord and his family. “Mr. Prescott didn’t ever hug him?”

  “No, he wasn’t a very demonstrative person.”

  She remembered Colton saying the same thing about himself, so it must be a Prescott trait. But Cord was very loving, and so gentle with Nicki. That was probably what had first attracted her.

  “Tell me what Cord was like when you met him.”

  “Young, handsome and hardworking, and the ladies always gravitated to him. Clay and I decided it was the cowboy thing.”

  “Oh, I don’t think I want to hear that.”

  Jackson lifted her chin with his fingers. “Cord was so unassuming, he never suspected all the ladies were interested in him.”

  “Yes, he’s like that,” she said quietly. “He never knew Mona cared for him in a romantic way.”

  “That’s not his fault,” Jackson was quick to point out.

  “I know that, but how do I make him see it?”

  Jackson took her in his arms. “Just let the wounds heal, angel.”

  “But, Daddy, this is so hard.”

  “It’ll get better,” he promised. “Now, why don’t you go relieve Dad and Owen? Scotty’s making them run far too fast.”

  “Okay.” She brushed away a tear. “Thanks for talking to me. I needed that.”

  “I know,” he replied with a father’s wisdom.

  BECCA WENT TO WORK in Dr. Arnold’s office and settled into a routine. Dr. Arnold was a well-known pediatrician and several doctors worked under her. Becca was honored to be one of those doctors. As the newest member of the team, she took patients who couldn’t get in to see the other doctors. Slowly she was meeting the little patients and getting to know them. The days were busy, but nights were agonizing. She kept waiting to feel the feathery touch of Cord’s mustache or to wake up and see him in the bathroom shaving, but each morning she felt a little more alone and a little more empty.

  Early one morning, Ginger breezed into her apartment and slammed her purse on the bar. “Well, so you’re back in town and I’m the last one to know.”

  “I called several times,” Becca told her.

  “Oh.” Gin looked surprised. “I went out of town for the Fourth. So…how are you?”

  “Things have been rough lately.”

  “Colton told me what’s been happening. Are you okay?”

  Becca sat on the sofa and curled her feet beneath her. “I’ll never be the same again.”

  Ginger eyed her strangely as she sat down, too. “You seem different.”

  “Pain does that to a person.”

  “You’re in pain?”

  “Yes, right about here.” She placed her hand over her heart.

  That strange look turned to guilt, and Becca knew what was on Gin’s mind—her affair with Colton.

  “This isn’t about Colton, Gin. It’s about Cord.”

  Ginger crossed her legs nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Colton and I are friends like I’ve always told you,” she said tolerantly. “We’ve never shared a passionate kiss and we’ve certainly never slept together.”

  “That has nothing to do with me!”

  “Really? Then, why is your face almost as red as your hair?”

  Ginger glanced up; their eyes met and they burst into laughter.

  “I’m sorry,” Gin murmured. “It just happened.”

  “What are you apologizing for? I’m happy for both of you.”

  “It’s your fault, anyway.”

  “My fault?”

  “Yeah. Colton called to see if I’d been watering your plants and that made me mad as hell, so I gave him a piece of my mind. Then he stopped by your place while I was here and we got to talking and he offered to take me out to dinner. I surprised myself when I accepted. After that, one thing led to another. Colton’s very nice once you get to know him.” Her eyes grew dreamy. “I make him laugh and he makes me take life more seriously.”

  “I assume going away for the Fourth was with Colton.”

  “Yeah,” Gin said in a hesitant voice. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

  “Yes, I’m fine,” Becca assured her. “Colton isn’t the Prescott who’s broken my heart.”

  “Cordell Prescott is a fool.”

  Becca’s face darkened, and Gin immediately backpedaled. “I know he’s gone through a lot, but can’t he see how much you love him?”

  “Right now, he’s suffering so much I don’t think he can see much of anything.”

  There was a long silence, then Becca suggested, “Why don’t
we go out for dinner tonight?”

  “I’m sorry.” Gin’s face fell. “I have plans to meet Colton at his place, but you can come with me. I’m sure he’d be glad to see you.”

  “No, thanks, I’m not in the mood to be a fifth wheel. Besides, I have some medical reading to catch up on.”

  After Gin left, Becca quickly got dressed for work, but her mind was filled with thoughts of Cord. How long would the pain last? How long before the ache inside her disappeared? How long was a lifetime? Forever. She would feel this way forever, or until Cord was back in her life.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CORD STOOD WATCHING Nicki play from the den. The sheriff had called and said that Mona’s death was ruled a suicide. Apparently they were trying to locate a distant cousin who would inherit the Tibbets ranch. Also, Bates and his girlfriend had moved to Montana. It was over, the sheriff had said, but Cord knew it would never be over for him.

  His gaze shifted to Blanche, who was sitting in a lounge chair also watching Nicki. That was the only good thing that had come out of this mess. He and Blanche had gotten closer, and Blanche now helped him with Nicki. They were still waiting for Clay to fly home so they could have a meeting about the will. But in the meantime, Edie and Blanche were getting along. He hadn’t heard one argument lately. They were pulling together as a family—just like Becca had wanted them to. God, why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?

  He hardly noticed when Blanche came in. All he could see was Becca’s face, her eyes, her smile. He was walking a tightrope of emotion and didn’t know how long he could stay balanced. But he was afraid he was going down and could do nothing to stop himself. He focused on Nicki. His daughter was all that kept him sane.

  “Cord, where are you?” Colton yelled from the kitchen.

  Cord turned as his brother came into the den. Colton walked straight up to him, his right fist connecting with Cord’s jaw. Cord wheeled from the blow.

  “How could you?” Colton said through clenched teeth.

  “I told you to leave her alone. Becca doesn’t deserve this.”

  Cord’s eyes darkened. “The first punch is free, but if you try it again, I’ll knock you on your ass.”

  The two brothers faced each other. Cord was the taller, bigger one, but Colton had blood in his eye.

  Blanche immediately got between them. “Stop this right now! Nicki could come in any minute.”

  Cord swung away and went through the French doors to the patio.

  Blanche placed her hands on her hips. “Your brother’s in pain. Can’t you see that?”

  “I’m not really worried about his pain,” Colton said angrily.

  “Yes, you are. That’s why you’re here. You know Cord and Becca are right for each other. I understand that’s hard for you to accept but—”

  “If he loves her, how can he do this to her?” Colton broke in.

  “Think about everything Cord’s been through. In time, he’ll realize he can’t live without her.”

  “I don’t know. He’s stubborn as a mule.”

  “Maybe, but I hope you got all the anger out of your system.”

  Colton rubbed his knuckles. “No, and I think I broke my hand.”

  “Come to the kitchen,” she said. “I’ll make you some coffee and put ice on it.”

  Blanche walked away, but Colton just stared after her with a perplexed expression.

  Blanche glanced back at him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t think I’ve talked this much to you in all my life. Who are you? I don’t know this person.”

  “I’m your mother and you’re my son, and that’s how we’re gonna act from now on.”

  “Oh,” Colton said, and followed her into the kitchen.

  CORD PUT NICKI TO BED, and luckily she didn’t mention Becca. Every time she did, he shriveled up inside. And tonight he’d almost reached the end of what he could tolerate. Colton had a right to be angry, and the bruise on Cord’s jaw was a small price to pay for what he’d done to Becca.

  He went down to the kitchen and discovered Blanche there.

  “Sit down,” she said.

  “Blanche, I’m not—”

  “Sit,” she ordered. “I have a few things to say and you’re gonna listen.”

  He took a seat.

  “How long are you gonna blame yourself for Anette’s death?”

  “Leave it alone.”

  “No, I won’t,” Blanche told him. “I don’t think you even realize how disturbed Anette was.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Did you finish reading this?” She set the journal in front of him.

  He pushed it away. “I don’t want to see that again.”

  “That’s too bad, because you’re listening to what it has to say.”

  “Blanche…”

  But Blanche was reading from the book. “‘I should tell Cord, but I won’t. He says he loves me, but he might take Mona’s side. If he does, then I’d have to kill them both because I’ll never let her have him. I need more pills. Maybe then these thoughts will go away.’” Blanche laid the book down. “Does that sound like a person you could help? She was on medication when you met her. You knew that. Her condition only got worse. Her pregnancy might have been a factor, but she wanted the baby. And Mona didn’t help matters. But you certainly had nothing to do with that.”

  Cord didn’t say a word.

  Blanche went on. “You’ve always been a very kind person. When you met Anette, she had practically no one and she wanted a family. You gave her that, but Anette needed a lot more. You got her psychiatric help, but it wasn’t enough.” Blanche was silent for a moment, then added, “You can’t stop living because of what happened. Let it go. Put it in the past where it belongs.”

  Cord got up and left the kitchen without a backward glance. He walked to his room and fell fully clothed onto the bed. Memories of Anette consumed him. Blanche was right; he’d been kind to Anette. She’d seemed so lost and alone, and he’d wanted to help her, but she had other problems he hadn’t really considered. After they were married, her depression and paranoia grew worse. How much Mona had to do with that, he wasn’t sure. Obviously Anette and Mona were engaged in some private battle he wasn’t even aware of. Why couldn’t he see what was happening right under his own nose? Because they’d made a point of keeping it from him. And there was nothing he could have done to change that.

  The truth of that jolted him and he sat up. He couldn’t have changed a thing. But if he’d known how Mona felt—that thought wouldn’t let him go. He’d known Mona all his life. The kids at school had teased her and he’d told her she was pretty. He’d done it out of kindness. Just to make her feel better. Could that have been the start of her infatuation with him? Had she read more into it than he’d actually intended? He didn’t see how, since there was no romantic involvement between them and Mona was some years older. She’d even been smitten with Clay. He’d dated other women and the only interest he and Mona had in common was ranching. They’d never touched or kissed. How could she have deluded herself that their friendship was something more? He’d never encouraged her in that way.

  Still, for whatever reasons, she’d developed an obsession with him. Why hadn’t he seen the signs? Mona had spent too much time at Triple Creek. She’d relied on him to help her make decisions—or pretended to. And he’d fallen for it. But anything he’d done, he’d done out of kindness. Around and around went the thoughts until he felt as though his head would burst.

  His emotions were wavering dangerously, taking him places he didn’t want to go.

  Just when his capacity for strength had reached its limit, he glanced down and saw his boots, and suddenly Becca’s face swam before him.

  A cowboy’s dream. A woman to remove his boots.

  The memory of her smile eased the turbulence inside him, but he couldn’t complete the circle by accepting her in his life. He wouldn’t hurt another woman—especially Becca.

  He got up an
d ran down the stairs to the stables. He was saddling Apache when Gus walked in wearing his boxer shorts and boots. He held a shotgun in his hand.

  “God Almighty, boy! I thought we had a prowler.”

  “Go back to bed, Gus. It’s just me.”

  “Where you going?”

  Cord swung into the saddle. “Go back to bed.”

  Gus rubbed his bald head. “You gonna ride that horse to death.”

  Cord signaled Apache and they shot out of the barn.

  “Or yourself,” Gus muttered. “When’s all this gonna end?”

  BECCA LOVED HER JOB and all the kids she saw. They were so innocent and trusting, and depended on her to make their aches and pains go away. She’d hoped that once she threw herself into her work and submerged herself in other people’s problems, the pain inside her would ease, but it didn’t. Each day that passed without a message from Cord made her heartache worse.

  The bright spot in her life was Nicki. Blanche brought her to the play group three days a week, and Becca made sure she had time to spend with her. Nicki was always so thrilled about visiting her, and she chatted on and on about everything. When she mentioned Cord, Becca’s heart fluttered with something that wasn’t going to disappear—love. Almost a month had gone by, and if it hadn’t been for her work, Becca would have been overwhelmed by grief and disappointment.

  On Monday morning of the Fourth week, she stopped by the hospital to check over a newborn, a healthy little boy. No problems and all his vitals were strong. She told the mother to call the office and they’d set up scheduled appointments for the baby. When she reached the clinic, the nurse informed her they had a full morning. It started with three-year-old Casey, who had a cold; the mother was worried because it wasn’t clearing up. The child was in day care and exposed to all sorts of things. Becca couldn’t do anything about that, but she assured the mother her little girl was fine and that she would get better. Next was two-year-old Eric, whose ear was red and swollen. The boy was constantly pulling on it. Becca quickly saw the problem—a dried black-eyed pea was stuck in his ear. Becca was able to extract it without admitting him to the hospital. And another two-year-old, Noah, had a rash all over his body. His hands, feet and face were not affected. It took a while for Becca to figure it out. Finally she asked if he had any new pajamas. The mother said yes, he’d gotten some for his birthday. She prescribed an ointment for the rash and told the mother to get rid of the pajamas. The boy was allergic to the fabric.

 

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