Texas Dad (Fatherhood)

by Roz Denny Fox

  By then Benny and Jiggs the dog had crossed the yard from the corral.

  “We had a cow in trouble?” Mack asked Benny. Stepping off the running board, he walked around the cab and reached for Erma to keep her from falling out the door. “Erma, you can’t get out until I bring the wheelchair. Will someone please stay with her for a moment?”

  J.J. rushed to comply, and Benny followed Mack to the rear of the pickup.

  “Around noontime, Trevor stumbled across a young heifer set to deliver her first calf,” Benny said. “He brought her to the barn because she seemed to be laboring too hard. We tried to help her, but she went berserk. She kicked me a good one on my shin. I called Delaney, who gave her something to calm her down.”

  Mack lifted the hospital wheelchair out and opened it, locking the seat in place. He listened to Benny with half an ear. The majority of his attention was focused on Erma exclaiming over how great it was to see Jill, and Jill responding with sympathy for Erma’s plight.

  “Benny, I’ll take a look-see at the cow and calf after I get Erma inside. She needs to take her pain meds now.”

  Erma held on to her hip when Mack lifted her from the pickup and carefully set her in the wheelchair.

  “I should have fixed that loose back step,” Benny said sheepishly.

  “I knew it was loose,” Erma said as Mack wheeled her toward the house. “Accidents happen, Benny. Hey, did anyone gather the eggs? That’s where I was headed when I fell.”

  Benny shook his head, so Mack said to Zoey, “Bug, you can gather eggs. Uh, sorry. I’m not going to have an easy time remembering you don’t want to be called Bug.”

  “I hate gathering eggs, ’cause those old hens peck me.”

  “I’ve never gathered eggs,” Jill said. “But maybe I can distract the chickens for you.”

  Erma waved a hand feebly. “Good idea. After you bring in the eggs, Jill, perhaps you can, uh, help me out of these clothes and into something more comfortable. These jeans are rubbing my sore hip.”

  Mack stopped at the base of the front porch steps. Anyone could see his displeasure.

  “What’s the matter, boss?” Benny eyed the makeshift ramp. “I cobbled boards together like you asked. Is there too much slope?”

  “Huh? Oh, no. The ramp is fine. Jill is only here to do a job for her magazine, Erma. I believe she was headed back to town, weren’t you?” He shot the query at their visitor.

  Erma handed Mack the now-warm ice pack. “I’m really wobbly. I doubt Zoey has the strength to steady me and help me undress or dress. And that’s definitely not a chore for you or Benny.”

  “I don’t mind lending Erma a hand,” Jill said.

  Scowling at her, Mack said, “So, Benny, what’s the verdict on your cousin? Can she get here right away?” Turning the wheelchair, he pulled Erma backward up the ramp and onto the porch.

  “Sonja wants this job, but she can’t get here till after next week. She’s in Galveston taking care of her grandchildren while her oldest daughter and husband are on vacation. They left yesterday on one of those eight-day cruises to Mexico.”

  “Well that’s a problem.” Continuing to frown, Mack reached back to open the screen door.

  Erma glanced over her shoulder at Mack. “Why’s that? Seems to me we’ve got a solution. If Jill is taking pictures at the ranch, it makes sense for her to stay here instead of driving back and forth to town. I need a woman to assist me with private matters, like helping me in and out of the shower. I’m not a stork, you know. Can’t stand on my one good leg.”

  “I’m pretty sure nursemaid isn’t on Jill’s professional résumé,” Mack said. “Benny, I wish you’d phoned me about your cousin while I was still in town. I need to sign a contract with Leitha Davidson to find us someone even short-term.” Mack’s frustration couldn’t be more obvious.

  “Leitha won’t go to all the work of hiring until Benny’s cousin arrives,” Erma stated firmly. “Jill’s here. She said she’s willing to help. Besides, I’m dying to hear all about Paris and where all else her work’s taken her since she left Texas.”

  Zoey burst out, “J.J., you’ve been to Paris? That’s so cool! Wait till I tell Brandy. Where else have you been?”

  Mack bristled and interrupted before Jill could answer.

  “Zoey, the eggs! You don’t have time to hear how Jill gallivanted off to Paris and London and Rio and Tokyo...” He broke off, seeing Jill’s eyes glitter, clearly curious about how he knew where she’d traveled. “I get the college alumni newsletter,” he said. “They’ve mentioned you.”

  Jill nodded, but Erma didn’t let up. “This house has four empty bedrooms, Mackenzie.”

  “Listen,” Jill jumped in, spreading her hands. “I’m fine staying in town. I don’t want to cause a family feud. If it’s okay with you, Mack, I’ll help Zoey gather the eggs, then settle Erma in. I’ll come back tomorrow to begin our interview and take more photos.”

  Erma said something to Mack that J.J. couldn’t hear. It served to make him duck his head and rub the lines creasing his forehead. A few seconds ticked by before he cleared his throat. “Erma’s got a valid point. It’s not like me to be inhospitable. I appreciate your willingness to help us out of a jam, Jill.” Raising his head, he gazed squarely into her startled eyes. “Truly,” he added. “My main concern should be doing what’s best for Erma.” He opened the door. “If you’re okay with it, let’s call a truce.”

  “Of c-course,” J.J. stammered. “I’ll just go put my camera bag away.” She pointed to her SUV.

  “Bring it in,” Erma said. “Mackenzie means you should pick a bedroom and stay as long as you want. You and Zoey go collect the eggs while I take my pills. After you get me settled for a nap, you can check out of your motel. I wouldn’t mind your help fixing meals for a few days.”

  Although she felt trapped, J.J. nodded. She wanted to bolt then and there—Mack couldn’t have made clearer that he’d rather walk over spikes barefoot than have her stay at the ranch. Erma had to have twisted his arm, and who in their right mind would volunteer to be an unwanted houseguest?

  “Awesome!” Zoey shouted. She dashed over to throw her arms around J.J.

  From the porch, Mack watched Jill smile at Zoey and smooth her hands down the girl’s braids. The simple, caring gesture hit him hard, chipping away some of the ice he’d built around his heart against Jill Walker. Her ready smile used to be something he loved. He vividly recalled the sweet taste of her lips, and unexpected heat moved through his groin. “So now that that’s arranged,” he muttered, “let’s get this show on the road.”

  Benny said, “Don’t forget, boss—we’re planning to move the cattle to Monument Draw tomorrow. The summer range will make prettier pictures with the trees and all, but the herd’s bound to kick up a passel of dust on the drive up there.”

  “Damn.” With everything that had happened, Mack had forgotten. “Trailing the herd can mean a couple of days before any of us get back to the ranch.”

  “I have some extra days built in for this shoot,” J.J. said. After all, Donna had urged her to spend an extra week visiting her mother. “I’ll take a few pictures before you head out. Readers will like seeing you on a horse with a sea of steers as a backdrop.”

  “That would be a good plan except that we’ll be leaving before daylight. It’s a dry, hot drive between Turkey Creek and the next available water. The farther we get before sunrise, the better.”

  “Well, do whatever is necessary. I don’t want to interfere. I’ll keep Erma and Zoey company.”

  “I suppose we could delay the drive.” Mack wasn’t keen on the notion of leaving Zoey and an incapacitated Erma with Jill. The last time she was in his life, she hadn’t thought twice about abandoning him. She probably wouldn’t do that now, but she also didn’t have any reason to stay. “There’ll be time to figure th
is out at supper, which we won’t have if we keep talking all day.” He eased the wheels of Erma’s chair over the threshold and disappeared inside.

  J.J. worried her lower lip with her teeth as she followed Zoey to a row of chicken coops set away from the house in the shade of scrub oak. They were on a good-size plot, encompassed by a sturdy wire enclosure. “You have a lot of chickens,” she said, pausing to latch the gate behind her.

  “Erma uses a lot of eggs. Wait until you see how many Benny and Eldon eat at breakfast.” Zoey unhooked one of the coop doors and exposed two shelves of nests, empty of chickens.

  “So Erma cooks meals for the ranch hands as well as for your family?”

  “We all eat together.” Zoey reached into a nest and began placing eggs in one of her baskets. J.J. picked up a second basket and scooped the eggs out of the higher nests. They collected about twenty eggs, closed the coop and moved to the next. Hens were sitting on the nests in this one. One screeched and flew straight at J.J., pecking her arm.

  “Ow!” She jumped back and dabbed at a trail of blood, trying to keep from dropping her basket.

  Zoey unhooked a long-handled whisk broom off the inside wall of the coop and swatted the squawking hens. “Shoo.” She flapped her arms at birds dive-bombing their legs. “We need to hurry and grab the eggs. The hens get braver the longer we stay.”

  J.J. filled her basket and topped off Zoey’s while the girl used the broom to keep the two most determined hens away.

  “Phew, that was a new experience for me,” J.J. said as they dashed from the pen.

  “You never kept chickens?” Zoey fastened the gate and took her full basket back from J.J.

  “I went to college with a few ranch kids, but I lived on campus. And most of my friends lived in town. My stepdad was a math professor.”

  “You had a stepfather?” Zoey hesitated. “Was that okay?”

  J.J. thought about how to answer. “It was fine. Unlike in your case, Zoey, my mom married Rex when I was a toddler. I never knew any other father.”

  Zoey hung her head. “I guess you read my essay, huh? I kind of hinted about wanting a mom.”

  J.J. wrinkled her nose and laughed. “That was more than hinting, Zoey. I’m guessing that’s why you and Brandy didn’t want your dad to read your contest entry at the library?”

  “Yeah.” She kicked a clod of dirt off the path. “I almost didn’t mail it in. I figured anybody who read it would think I was nuts.”

  “Nope. The committee members were touched by what you wrote, but I should tell you, Zoey, if I’d been on the committee I would have voted no.”

  “Because you and my dad went to college together?”

  “No, because matchmaking is difficult to pull off. A one-time evening out... Well, I’m trying to say—don’t get your hopes up, Zoey.”

  “Brandy’s mom said I can’t shop for a mother...” They reached the back door and Zoey trailed off. Mack threw the screen open and stepped out onto the porch.

  “Good, you’re back. Erma’s had her pills and she’s already woozy.” J.J. tried to sweep past him into the kitchen, but he grabbed her arm. “You’re bleeding. What did you do?”

  “A hen got her,” Zoey announced matter-of-factly.

  Mack pulled back his hand. “Wash that wound out. I’ll grab the first aid kit. Chickens peck through all kinds of barnyard crap. I don’t need your magazine suing me if you get blood poisoning.”

  J.J. rolled her eyes. “Your concern for my welfare is touching.”

  “I...” He sounded half rueful, half apologetic.

  “Never mind,” J.J. said, waving him off as she put her basket on the counter. She stuck her arm under the kitchen faucet and was drying it with a paper towel when Mack came back in. He was holding antibiotic cream and a plastic bandage. J.J.’s heartbeat quickened as he dabbed the cream onto her skin. Old feelings crowded in. Good and not so good, since this was the same kitchen where she’d stumbled upon him wiping away Faith’s tears. Faith, who subsequently became his wife and Zoey’s mother. Unwilling to deal with memories that still hurt, J.J. yanked back her arm. “That’s good. Which way do I go to find Erma’s room?”

  Mack looked shaken by her hasty withdrawal. “Her room is where it’s always been.” He jerked his thumb toward the hall. J.J. did remember, now that she thought about it.

  “Erma?” she called softly into the dark, silent room.

  “Thank goodness,” Erma said, sounding groggy. “I told Mackenzie to wheel me in here and go on about his business. But I desperately need to use the facilities. I tried to stand up but I got dizzy and fell back. Hurts even more now.”

  J.J.’s heart went out to the injured woman who’d always made her feel welcome here. Mack’s father, too, had welcomed her. Jacob Bannerman had opened up to J.J., made her feel part of the family. He once admitted that his heart had broken permanently when his wife died. Another time he confided in her that the Bannermans were one-woman men. It was just as well that he didn’t live to see his son make a liar out of him.

  After she rolled Erma’s wheelchair into the bathroom, J.J. slipped an arm around her and slowly lifted her. “Slide your left foot across the tile. Then if you can balance against the sink a moment, we’ll get your jeans off.”

  “It’s those danged pills making my whole body feel like limp spaghetti.”

  Indeed, J.J. felt as though she was grappling with wet noodles. It was a minor miracle that the two of them finally succeeded in getting the housekeeper out of her clothes. “Yikes, Erma! Your right side from your waist to your knee is a rainbow.”

  Erma barely nodded, but tensed as J.J. eased a nightgown over her head. Pain was etched on her face.

  Giving Erma time alone, J.J. went out and fluffed the pillows. A few minutes later she helped her into bed.

  “It’s a good thing I sleep on my left side.” Yawning, Erma sighed and her eyes drifted shut.

  “Erma, I’m going to town to get my suitcases and check out of the motel. I won’t be more than half an hour. Don’t attempt to get out of bed on your own. Zoey can stay nearby and find her father if you need anything.”

  “I’ll be up to fix supper,” Erma managed to say sleepily. “Mack and the men come in at six-thirty and expect to eat as soon as they sit down.”

  “So, what time do we have to start preparations?” J.J. asked, trying to read her watch in the darkened room. Silence greeted her query—Erma was already asleep. J.J. tiptoed out of the room.

  Zoey was still at the kitchen counter brushing eggs and placing them in a covered container. “You were gone a long time. Is Erma okay?”

  J.J. massaged a crick in her neck. “Her medicine really wiped her out. It was a challenge getting her into a nightgown.” Then J.J. explained that Zoey had to listen in case Erma called out for help.

  “What bedroom do you want, J.J.? My dad said to open it up and air it out. He said to check the bathroom for towels. We don’t have many guests. The room next to mine upstairs is empty,” Zoey offered.

  Zoey clearly wanted J.J. to choose that one, but she said, “Is there a bedroom down here? Close enough so I’d hear if Erma needs help during the night?”

  “There’s one straight across the patio from her room. If you both left your doors open, I guess you could hear her through the screens.”

  “That’s probably a better idea. I’ll try to make it to town and back in half an hour. Erma fell asleep before I could find out what time we need to start supper. Poor Erma. Her side is so bruised I figure she’ll need a lot of rest and help from us.”

  “I’ve never cooked anything,” Zoey said. “Have you?” She sounded seriously concerned.

  “We’ll figure it out. We’re capable of cooking, right, Zoey?”

  “Oh, good. I heard my dad tell Benny there’s no way someone who spends half her
life hanging out with skinny models has the first idea of how to cook for a ranch crew.”

  That stung, but Mack hadn’t been far off. Collecting her purse, she dug out her car keys. “There’s some truth to your dad’s statement, Zoey. I don’t spend much time at home. If I host an occasional dinner party, I have it catered. All in all it’s lucky Benny’s cousin will be here soon.” She winked at Zoey and left via the back door.

  Chapter Four

  Back in her motel room, J.J. repacked her bags. It was still early enough for her to phone her mother before she returned to the ranch. She hadn’t yet gotten in touch with her mom, and she wanted to arrange a time to meet for lunch or dinner prior to her flight back to New York. Bonnie Walker’s cell phone rang five times before she answered, sounding harried.

  “Mom, it’s J.J. I’m in Texas on a job.”

  “How nice, dear. But I can’t talk now, I’m in my ceramics class.”

  “No worries. I’ll be here for several days. Why don’t I touch base tomorrow to set a time when we can do lunch or something?”

  “All right, but my tai chi class starts at eight, then I have yoga until eleven. Oh, and my bridge group meets at my condo in the afternoon. Honey... I have to go. My vase is drying out.”

  “Uh—” Her cell went dead before she could say goodbye. She plopped down on the bed, not sure whether to be amused or irritated. It was typical of her mother, who was totally self-absorbed. And yet, four months earlier, her mom had acted depressed, convinced her life was in the toilet. The move to an assisted-living complex had obviously been good for her, worth every penny J.J. paid. A large part of Bonnie’s concerns centered on money. J.J.’s stepdad’s protracted illness had drained their savings. They’d borrowed against their home and when the market tanked the house was worth less than Bonnie owed, forcing her into a short sale. With her barely sixty and not eligible for social security, J.J. had stepped up to help financially, even though it meant delaying her dream of leaving her current job to freelance. She wanted to go after meatier stories, like poverty in American cities or the changing agricultural landscape.