by Marta Perry
The two men stood looking at her, waiting, and her throat seemed too tight to speak.
“But…you don’t have to do that. We can just keep that single basin. It wasn’t damaged.”
“As long as we’re in here, we may as well do it right,” Landon said.
“That’s true enough, Violet.” Joe Tyler, quite naturally, was eager to do the whole job. “You’ll be a load happier with it in the long run.”
Her gaze was fixed on Landon’s face. “I know you…your foundation…is willing to pay for repairs, but I…we shouldn’t take advantage of your generosity…” She stumbled over the words.
Landon stepped over Joe’s tools, took her arm, and piloted her out of the restroom and into the adjoining hallway, empty at the moment.
“Listen,” he said, holding both her arms in a warm clasp. “This is what the foundation was set up to do.” Pain moved in his eyes for an instant. “Whenever we pick up a project, I think about what Jessica would have liked. Then I do it.”
“But the expense…” She gazed up at him, still troubled.
He shook his head, his brow furrowed. “It’s just money, Violet. Those people donating their time and labor are doing far more, believe me.”
A little reassured, she smiled at him. “Only people who have plenty say things like, ‘It’s just money.’”
“True.” He smiled back, his face easing. “The Bible says that the love of money is the root of all evil. I’ve given that a lot of thought since I became a Christian. I see people like my parents, who let money lead them into an unending pursuit of pleasure, only to be dissatisfied in spite of their possessions.”
She nodded. “I guess I can understand that, but most people around here are just trying to get by.”
“I decided a long time ago that money is a tool and it can be used wisely or foolishly. The foundation lets me use what’s been entrusted to me wisely, I hope.” His green eyes suddenly twinkled. “Now, please, let Joe get on with his work. Laminate or wood?”
How could she argue, given the depth of his feeling? “Natural wood, please,” she said, returning his smile.
Chapter Twelve
The hospital was beginning to look too familiar, and Violet found she resented that as they walked down the hallway toward Belle’s room. No matter how kind the staff was, and they were very kind, her mom should be at home, where she belonged.
“Violet?” Maddie touched her arm as they started into the room. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, trying to smile. “It’s just hard to keep up a cheerful front all the time. You know?”
“I know.” Maddie clasped her hand. “Every time I come in, I think this will be the day. This will be the day when she opens her eyes and looks at me, and she knows right away who I am.”
Violet squeezed her hand, and they went into the room together.
There was no change. She saw that immediately. Belle lay exactly centered in the bed, the sheet drawn up and folded back at the top. Someone had taken the time to put her shoulder-length hair into two loose braids, and they formed dark auburn ropes against the white pillow.
“Mom, hi. Maddie and I are here to visit.” Her attention was caught by a vase of red roses on the table next to the bed. “Wow, Mom. You must have an admirer. These roses are gorgeous. Did Jack send them?”
There was no answer, of course. She plucked the card out from the roses and opened it.
You are in my prayers. Landon Derringer.
She glanced across the bed at Maddie. “They’re from Landon.”
“I told you he could be surprising.” Maddie clasped Belle’s hand. “Would you like to smell the roses, Mom?”
“That’s a good idea.” Hadn’t she read something about people still being able to smell, even when their other senses weren’t working properly? Violet pulled one of the long-stemmed roses from the vase, careful of the thorns. She held it under her mother’s nose. “There. Doesn’t that smell lovely?”
“The color is gorgeous, too. It’s such a deep, vibrant red. Landon sent them. He’s a friend of mine from Fort Worth. Violet probably won’t tell you this, so I will. She’s crazy about him.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Violet said, putting the rose back in the vase. “But he is…well, really special.”
She turned away to pull the usual chair up by the bed, and Maddie did the same on her side of the bed.
“So,” Maddie queried once she was seated, “how many guys have you called really special besides Landon?”
Violet wrinkled her nose. “Okay, none. But that doesn’t mean anything will come of this relationship.”
“Of course not.” Maddie looked a tad smug. “We’ll just wait and see. But if Mom were awake, what would she be saying right now?”
“I know exactly.” Violet smiled at her mother’s unresponsive face. “She’d say, ‘Violet, just be sure when you give your heart to someone.’”
Maddie smiled as well, but then the smile faded. “I wonder if she felt really sure of Dad.”
“She must have, don’t you think?” Violet stroked her mother’s hand. “But sometimes things happen that people can’t control.”
Maddie nodded, gazing at her mother’s face. “How old is she, anyway? I never thought to ask that.”
“Forty-three her last birthday.”
“Really? That means she was only sixteen or seventeen when Grayson and Jack were born. Did she ever talk about that?”
“Just once, when I did some arithmetic and came up with that figure. I tried to use it as a lever when she didn’t want me to go to some party with the older kids.” Violet sighed ruefully, remembering that conversation. “Mom looked at me and said she didn’t want me following in her footsteps in that regard. And she didn’t let me go to the party.”
“I wonder how much their youth had to do with their marriage breaking up.” Maddie touched her mom’s hand where a ring might have been at one time. “They were awfully young to be the parents of twins.”
“That must have been hard. It wouldn’t be surprising if they weren’t mature enough to make a go of marriage.” Wake up, Mom. Answer the questions for us. Please.
The door swung open, letting in a doctor whose swift pace didn’t alter until he glanced up and saw them sitting there. It was a man Violet hadn’t seen before, in his fifties probably, with a pencil-thin moustache and an air of authority.
“Are you Mrs. Colby’s children?” He glanced from one to the other. “Yes, I see that you are. You both resemble your mother very much, don’t you?” His smile warmed a face that Violet had initially thought rather frosty.
“I’m Violet Colby,” she said. “This is my sister, Maddie Wallace.”
“Nathan Fremont,” he said. “I’ve been thinking I should have a word with Mrs. Colby’s family. Are there any other family members?”
“My brother, Jack.” It was far too complicated, Violet decided, to bring up Brian Wallace and his sons.
“Your father is not in the picture?” he asked.
Violet shook her head. “Not now. You can talk to us about anything concerning our mother’s care.”
She could read the reluctance on his face, and a chill hand seemed to grip her heart. “Is something more wrong with Mom?” She had to choke the words out.
“No, nothing like that,” Dr. Fremont said. “It’s just usually the spouse who deals with the decisions that have to be made in this sort of case.”
“What decisions?” Maddie sounded as scared as Violet felt.
He looked from Maddie to her. “Your mother is stable now, I’m sure you realize that. However, there’s been no further progress in some time.”
“That doesn’t mean there won’t be,” Maddie said quickly.
He nodded. “True. But there comes a point when we have to accept the fact that there may not be any—that your mother may be in a persistent coma from which she won’t recover.”
Violet pressed her lips together, shaking her head. “I can’t
believe that. I won’t.”
“I understand.” His voice was gentle. “You should always hang on to hope. The point is, however, that she no longer needs the type of specialized care we provide here. You need to start looking for another place—probably a nursing care facility, if there is one close to your home.”
Violet could only stare down at her hands clasped in her lap. Maybe she should have expected this, but she hadn’t. Everything in her objected. Surely there was something else the hospital could do. But the doctor had made it clear that there wasn’t, and Violet felt herself sinking under the weight of the responsibility.
“How long do we have to make that decision?” Maddie seemed to sense that she’d have to take charge now. “We need time to find the right place for our mother, and we’ll need to talk to our brother before we can make any arrangements.”
“Of course.” He sounded relieved. “We’re not rushing you, but it is something that must be done. You should look into different facilities, ask around, talk to people who have used those facilities. We can discuss it again in a few days.”
A few days—Violet’s mind rebelled. She couldn’t possibly be ready to make a decision that soon, not when it felt like giving up hope that her mom would get better.
The doctor seemed to take their silence as agreement. He nodded and walked away, maybe eager to leave now that he’d delivered his unpalatable news.
Maddie walked around the bed and touched Violet’s shoulder. “It’s not giving up,” she said with that quick understanding that seemed to exist between them. “We’ll find a good place that can provide all the therapy and support Mom needs. Maybe it will even be better.”
Violet appreciated what Maddie was trying to do, but there was one immediate thought in her mind. She couldn’t give Jack any more time to come to his senses.
“I have to call Jack.” She got out her cell phone, and then realized she couldn’t use it here.
“Why don’t you go down to the lobby to call? Or even outside? I’ll stay here with Mom.”
“Yes, that’s what I’d better do.” Violet stood. “Thanks, Maddie. For…for sharing the burden.”
“Hey, that’s what twins are for, right?” Maddie gave her a little shove toward the door. “Go on, make the call. It’s time Jack came home.”
Everyone was agreed on that, Violet reflected as she rode down on the elevator. Everyone except, possibly, Jack himself. Well, he was out of options.
Not wanting to make the call where anyone might overhear, she went out through the sliding door, feeling the heat weigh her down as she reached the sidewalk. Walking a little distance from the main entrance, she found a bench in the shade and called.
She half expected the phone to go directly to messages, but instead Jack answered immediately.
“Vi? What’s wrong? Is it Mom?” Fear filled his voice.
“There’s been no change,” she said quickly.
“Thank God,” he murmured.
“But something else has come up. You have to come back.”
“If this is about Maddie and her father—” he began.
“No.” She cut him off. “It’s about Mom. The doctor says that they can’t do anything else for her at the trauma center.” It was a struggle to keep her voice even. “We have to make arrangements to move her to a nursing home.”
Silence for a moment, and she knew he was fighting against accepting that, just as she was.
“I don’t know anything about nursing homes. Can’t you and Maddie handle it?”
“Stop being selfish,” she snapped, her temper frayed to the breaking point. “You went off and left me to deal with everything. This is one thing too much.” Her voice shook suddenly. “I need you to come home, Jack. I need my big brother.”
Silence for a moment.
“Hang on, Violet,” he said, his voice gentle. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”
* * *
Landon was back at Sally’s Barbecue again, and he had to confess he was getting a little tired of the menu. If he spent much more time in Grasslands, he’d have to make some other arrangements.
Was he going to spend much more time in Grasslands? A few weeks ago he’d have laughed at the idea. But then, a few weeks ago he hadn’t known Violet.
At any rate, he expected a bit more from supper tonight. Not that Sally would have changed her menu, but he’d caught Violet on her cell phone when she was returning from Amarillo and convinced her to have dinner with him.
She’d sounded distracted, and he frowned as he parked his car. He’d had to resort to saying they needed to talk about the progress at Teen Scene before she’d agreed.
He couldn’t help but smile as he thought about that phone call. He’d been able to hear Maddie’s voice in the background, urging her to go to dinner with him. Maddie had to be the most generous former fiancée in history.
Landon had just gotten out of the car when Violet’s SUV pulled in. She got out, wearing a turquoise sundress that made her creamy skin glow in comparison. Her hair wasn’t in its usual ponytail—it hung to her shoulders like auburn silk. She took his breath away.
“Violet.” He went to her quickly. “You look lovely.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “Because I look more like Maddie?”
“No,” he said truthfully. “Because you look like yourself.”
The color came up in her cheeks. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
He took her hand and they walked toward the restaurant. “You don’t have to say a thing, except that you enjoy being with me as much as I enjoy being with you. If it’s true, of course.”
“It is,” she said softly.
By the time they were seated, Violet seemed to have recovered from her embarrassment. They ordered, and then he took a second look at her face. Happiness lurked in her eyes, surprising him.
“You look as if you’ve had good news. Is your mother better?”
“No, not that. I wish…” She let that trail off. “I’m just pleased because Jack is coming home.”
Jack, the missing brother. “So he called you?”
“No. I called him.”
The waitress arrived with platters of barbecue, and they were silent while she set them on the table and refilled their water glasses, exchanging some lighthearted banter with Violet and glancing at him with curiosity.
When she’d gone, Violet picked up her fork and then put it back down again. “You didn’t ask why I called Jack,” she said.
“I had a feeling you were going to tell me.” At least, he hoped she trusted him that much.
“Maddie and I talked to the doctor today. He wants us to make arrangements to move Mom to a nursing home.”
He studied her face. The flicker of joy when she spoke of her brother coming home had vanished.
“Were you surprised by that news?” he asked, carefully neutral until he knew just what she was feeling.
“I guess I shouldn’t have been.” She turned the tines of her fork on the red-checked tablecloth. “But it feels like giving up. Like admitting that there’s no hope.”
He touched her fingers lightly with his, and she stopped mutilating the tablecloth.
“If you move her, you can have her closer to you, right? Closer to her family and friends, where people can drop in on her every day?”
“Well, yes, I guess so.” She considered that, and the misery seemed to lighten. “If we could have her at a skilled care center somewhere in the county, she would be right in the center of things again.”
He nodded, wanting to encourage a cheerful outlook. “I’m no expert, but I’d think the more her surroundings were like home, the better it would be for her.”
“But what about the therapy she’s been getting at the hospital? I’m not sure what a nursing home provides, but it’s probably not on a par with a city hospital.”
“It’s worth looking into, isn’t it? I’d think you could arrange to bring a therapist in to work with her, if necessary, couldn’t you?”<
br />
She brightened. “That’s true. The county health service has therapists on staff.”
“There you go.” His fingertips brushed hers comfortingly. “You’ll see. This will work out all right. Your mother will have a better chance of recovery if she’s closer to home.”
“You’re right.” Her smile was brilliant. “Thanks, Landon. You’ve made me feel better.”
The urge to speak, to tell her how much she’d come to mean to him, was so strong he could barely control it. But he had to control it. Violet was vulnerable now, her life turned upside down by a succession of events that would try anyone. He couldn’t put the weight of his emotions on her, as well.
“Any time,” he said.
“You know, I’d just been wishing Uncle James were here for me to talk to about it. But you’re almost as good as he was in making me feel better.”
“Uncle James? I thought you didn’t have any relatives.”
“James Crawford. He wasn’t really our uncle, but we called him that. He owned the ranch when our mother came to Grasslands to work for him.”
It looked as if the subject he’d wondered about was coming out into the open without his even asking any questions. “You must have been very close to him.”
She nodded, her eyes misty. “He treated us like family. And when he needed help running the ranch, Mom pitched right in. By his last illness, she was pretty much running the ranch. I don’t think anyone was surprised when he left the ranch to us. We were the only family he had, even though we weren’t blood kin.”
Even allowing for Violet’s natural bias, the story made sense, and the doubts he’d been harboring about Belle Colby drifted away. Surely nobody could fool the whole community for years, and he hadn’t heard anyone say a negative word about Belle since he’d gotten here.
Violet shook her head, seeming to come back from her memories. “Now, about the teen center. You wanted to talk?”
“We’re making good progress, but I don’t think we can expect to open tomorrow night,” he said. “Pastor Jeb suggests having a grand reopening on Saturday evening. If we can put in a full day on Saturday, everything should be ready.”