Bootscootin' Blahniks

by D. D. Scott

  How could she not want that kind of strong, generous love? Unaccompanied by strings or false sincerity. Maybe because she’d never met a woman of Kat’s social standing who wasn’t afraid or embarrassed to reveal love and devotion. A woman who had a huge heart but chose to wear it on designer shirtsleeves.

  Roxy turned to Kat to reciprocate, not sure how to show her gratitude for being made to feel a part of Kat’s life. How was she supposed to get close to a woman like Kat, who was her mother in as many ways as she differed from Lily Vaughn? How was Roxy supposed to give love when she’d never been shown love?

  But when Roxy reached out for Kat, determined to try, time rolled in slow motion as Kat collapsed to the floor.

  Chapter Fifteen

  When his mother fell to The Neon Cowboy’s floor, Zayne let-out a desperate cry. Roxy couldn’t shake the sound. Her insides ripped apart.

  Twenty minutes later, sitting in the waiting room at Baptist Hospital, the sirens’ wails still pierced Roxy’s core. She’d now spent two Saturday nights here. Not the fun-filled weekends she’d planned.

  Stay with us, Kat. We need you. Roxy silently coached the woman she’d grown to respect, keeping her tears bottled because Kat would want her to be strong. Refusing to cry too because Zayne needed her strength. Roxy couldn’t fall apart, leaving Zayne alone to deal with his pain and fear.

  He sat across from her, his head buried in his hands. She wanted to hold him, let him lean against her, but didn’t know if he’d welcome and recognize her touch as comfort.

  She marveled at the tenderness and vulnerability a tough man like Zayne McDonald showed when someone he loved was hurting. After his mom collapsed and lay seemingly lifeless under the table, he’d found her pulse. The beat was shallow and light, but it was there.

  For what seemed like an eternity before help arrived, Roxy and Zayne had knelt at Kat’s side. Their friends closed-in around them, forming a protective barrier. Holding onto the hope then coming from Zayne’s eyes, Roxy had stroked Kat’s cold, clammy hands until the emergency responders asked her to move aside so they could work. She’d let go of Kat, fearful it would be forever.

  If beating the disease was a matter of will power, though, Kat had already won. Her graceful presence, her kind soul coupled with her tenacity, fed an inner strength Roxy knew would fight hard to overcome these physical obstacles.

  If only she and Zayne had his mother’s courage.

  Zayne’s head was still buried in his hands. His shoulders shook. Roxy crossed over to him, kneeling at his feet. Clasping his trembling, tear-soaked hands, she massaged his knuckles with her fingertips.

  “I knew, Roxy,” he choked out between sobs. “I knew something was wrong with her. But I never took time to ask.”

  “I knew too.” Without thinking, Roxy’s guilt gushed forth, as if the springs of the gate holding her secret had popped.

  “What do you mean?” Zayne lifted his head, his eyes weary and red but searching her out. “How could you have known anything? You’ve only been around her for a few weeks.”

  Shit. This was not the way Roxy had envisioned circumventing her promise to Kat. Abiding by Kat’s wish, keeping the truth from Zayne, hadn’t been easy to accept to begin with. Now, it was damn near impossible.

  Roxy couldn’t lie to him. But she also couldn’t betray Kat’s trust. Zayne would never understand any of this. He’d never forgive his mother for not confiding in him. But, he’d also never understand her and Roxy’s new bond. Hell, Roxy didn’t know what to think of their budding friendship. Zayne would never get how much Roxy now craved the connection he’d forced.

  If she confessed that his mother had discussed her heart problem with her instead of him, Roxy would be partly to blame for the wedge that would likely come between mother and son. But with a lie blocking their path, how could Roxy’s relationship with Zayne flourish?

  As she returned to her chair, pining for time to think of how exactly she’d be in-the-know about Kat’s health, an attending physician walked into the waiting room and saved her. His stone-like face was expressionless, absent hope or despair. How long, how many patients, had it taken for him to lose empathy?

  “Mr. McDonald?” The doctor stopped directly in front of Zayne, squaring his lean body with Zayne’s chair. “I’m Dr. Walters.”

  “Are you Mrs. McDonald?” He asked with controlled politeness, taking a stab at Roxy’s familial association.

  “No, Doc. This is Roxy Vaughn, a friend of my mother.” Zayne took Roxy’s hand. “And my friend too.”

  At least she’d met the friend billing, Roxy reasoned, even if it was an afterthought. And she meant enough to him to merit his hand possessively wrapped around hers. Who cared if it was just a balls-for-balls volley with the good doctor?

  “Very well.” Dr. Walters pulled a small coffee table toward them, cleared some dog-eared copies of People from the top and sat.

  “How is she?” Zayne fidgeted with his watch, moving it back and forth across his wrist.

  “Your mom’s resting comfortably. We got to her in time. But she might not be as lucky in the future.” The doc pushed a dark mop of his hair-cut-needing locks away from his face, haphazardly tucking the loose strands behind one ear.

  “There’ll be a next time? I don’t understand.” Zayne’s knee bounced up and down until Roxy stilled it with her palm.

  “How much do you know about your mom’s illness?” Dr. Walter’s asked, his brow arched, evidently surprised by Zayne’s naivety regarding her condition.

  “What illness?” Zayne removed his hat and spun it on his hands. “I’ve noticed she’s looked tired lately. And she hasn’t been eating good. But with my father’s death, I just assumed…Christ!”

  Zayne shoved-up from his chair and paced the room. With each stride, he clutched and bent the brim of his hat with such force Roxy thought it would snap into two pieces.

  “Your mother has congestive heart failure,” the doctor said.

  The words came from his lips with the same lack of emotion he’d first addressed them with. Like it was all in a night’s work to bring families bad news. So God damn clinical, Roxy thought. She wanted to kick his ass for his cruel indifference, but now wasn’t the time. Although, when this was over, she’d damn well let hospital administration know her concerns.

  Zayne stopped pacing the room and fell back into his chair. Looking at Roxy, his eyes pleaded for help.

  And she planned on getting some from Dr. Personality.

  “Could you explain the diagnosis to us in terms we’d understand?” She asked, a razor sharp edge to her otherwise polite inquiry.

  “Certainly. Congestive heart failure means the heart isn’t pumping as it should, resulting in fatigue and shortness of breath,” he said, droning on as if the Physician’s Desk Reference inside his head was on auto-play. “Everyday activities like walking, climbing stairs and getting groceries become increasingly difficult until the heart simply quits working at all.”

  Roxy put her arm through Zaynes, locking her fingers with his. His body quivered, making her heart break.

  “How do we cure her condition?” She asked, squeezing Zayne’s hand.

  “There is no cure.” Without hesitation, Dr. Walters stated the prognosis, although his eyes lost their hard edge as he continued. “But with the right treatment and careful attention to her lifestyle, she can live a full and meaningful life. Her cardiologist, Dr. Mack, will tell you more.”

  Roxy vise-gripped Zayne’s fingers. He never flinched or pulled away. If he was like her, he was too numb to move. Exhausted and scared senseless, Roxy was in too much of a fog to process the doctor’s information. For now, she thought, they both simply needed to see Kat, confirming she was still very much alive, despite the doctor’s grim analysis.

  “When can we see her?” She asked.

  “Let me check with her nurses. I’ll then send one of them back to get you.” Dr. Walters stood and turned to leave, but pivoted back toward them. “I’m so
rry.”

  Caught off guard by his impromptu sincerity, Roxy thought the man actually meant the tone of comfort he’d finally produced. Maybe to shield himself from the pain he relayed to others, he’d developed a thick indifference.

  The doctor left the room, leaving Roxy and Zayne alone with their fears. The silence descending on them couldn’t chill Roxy anymore than the doctor’s words. No longer able to sit idle, she rose and took her turn wearing out the hideous orange carpet.

  She couldn’t lose Kat. She’d filled a void Roxy hadn’t been aware she’d had. Used to tackling life’s challenges on her own, absent mentors, Roxy flew solo. Being as her parents weren’t filling those roles and without Kat, Roxy was alone again. For the first time, she didn’t want to be.

  Growing up with no one to share life’s ups and downs, she’d thrived on having Kat in her corner. Kat was teaching her how to walk amidst and design for high society without falling into their dismal traps.

  And what about Zayne, Roxy wondered. The guy had lost his father and now faced an uncertain future with his mom. He was a strong man. But no one was invincible.

  The despair overtaking his proud frame crushed her. The zest for life he shared with his mother was gone, zapped away like the steady current missing in Kat’s heart. He sat deflated, looking as if he were already mourning what hadn’t yet been taken.

  That’s it. Roxy couldn’t let this vacuum of nothingness continue. They had to see Kat. She abruptly turned to exit the waiting room to find someone to help them, nearly colliding with a nurse coming-in.

  A softly rounded, middle-aged brunette with a sweet smile and a hundred freckles greeted her. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Rhonda, Kat’s nurse.”

  Rhonda squeezed Roxy’s arm then went to Zayne, all but scooping him out of his chair, hugging him close to her cherub-like frame. “You can come on back now. She would love to see you both.”

  “Thank you. How is she?” Roxy’s mind, cluttered with muddled thoughts and unexpected emotions, left her feeling fortunate to create coherent sentences while also walking. “What should we expect?”

  “Kat’s quite weak, so try not to excite her,” Rhonda cautioned then laughed. “For the record, I also told her to cool it.”

  Rhonda patiently waited for them to fall into step beside her. She put an arm around Zayne and patted his shoulders like Roxy’s favorite au pair used to do before parading Roxy into the living room for a carefully orchestrated appearance before her parents’ friends.

  As they left the waiting area, the nurse continued to coddle Zayne, like a mother fussing over her child, gearing him up for an adventure he wasn’t looking forward to. With Zayne’s pale face, he needed all the pampering he could get. Not that Roxy couldn’t also use Rhonda’s cocoon-like comfort.

  “This diagnosis is going to be a harder adjustment for Kat than for you both,” Rhonda warned. “She’s simply got to slow down.”

  “Don’t worry. She’s a fixin’ to. You can count on it.” Zayne fisted his hands as his pace quickened through the wide fluorescent-lit hallway.

  “Remember, kids, no excitement tonight. Save it ’til at least tomorrow.” Rhonda led them to the doorway of one of the emergency area’s examining rooms. “I’ll give you some privacy. Then I’ll be in to move her into a regular room. We’ll want to keep her until she sees her cardiologist Monday morning.”

  Roxy peeked into the room, seeing a gaudy curtain drawn closed around a bed. Could this place have worst taste in fabrics? Hell, the damn daisies plastered on the cloth made her dizzy, and she wasn’t sick.

  “You go first,” Zayne said, his voice catching in his throat. “I’m not real good at this stuff.”

  Roxy hooked her arm through his and prodded him toward the daisy shield from hell. “I’m no candy striper, Cowboy, but we’ll make it work together.”

  “Kat?” she said, tentatively pulling the curtain back, “I’d be out of it too, if I had to wake up to this sheer monstrosity. Damn. Maybe I should do some designs for the hospital market.”

  To Roxy’s relief, Kat was alert enough to smile at her insulting remarks. Good sign.

  “Did you see that?” Zayne patted Roxy’s arm like a young boy trying to get his playmate’s attention regarding a marvelous new discovery. “Mom smiled.”

  “Yes, Zayne, I did,” Kat said and smiled again. “I can see and hear too. I’m not an invalid yet, although…,” she coughed lightly, grimacing after the unexpected movement, “…I could use some water.”

  “Here, Mom.” Zayne reached for a retro gold, plastic pitcher placed on a roll-away bedside table then poured water into the matching cup. He bent the cup’s attached straw into his mom’s mouth letting her get a drink and a few partially melted ice chips. “Does that feel better?”

  “Yes, dear, it does. Thank you. I was parched.” She nestled back into her pillow with a heavy sigh, as if leaning forward for the drink had worn her out.

  “I’m so sorry I scared you both. I’m not sure what came over me. Must have been something I ate.” Kat looked past Zayne toward Roxy as if trying to gauge from Roxy’s reaction who knew what.

  Roxy shrugged her shoulders, hoping Kat would figure out that their gig wasn’t up, although it was dangerously close to getting them into big trouble.

  “Okay, Mom,” Zayne said then put his hands on the metal rails of her bed, “cut the crap. Dr. Walters told us about your heart.”

  Zayne’s knuckles turned red then white as he tightened his hands around the rails.

  “Oh, Zayne, I only told Roxy because…”

  “So you did know?” Zayne asked Roxy in a small, yet precisely controlled voice.

  “I…” Roxy looked at the floor, unable to bear the hurt in his eyes. “I should have told you, but…”

  “You’re damn right, you should have,” he said glaring at her, his hurt packed into spears of piercing anger.

  “Zayne.” Kat reached for his hand, but he pulled away. With steady, measured breaths, she continued, “I made her promise not to tell you because I didn’t want to worry you. You’ve had your hands full with the contest. And I didn’t tell Roxy as much as she cajoled it out of me.”

  Even with Kat taking the blame, a hard, empty look made itself at home across Zayne’s face.

  Roxy couldn’t dodge the wall he was constructing between them.

  “How could you keep this from me? Either one of you?” Zayne looked first at Roxy, and then at his mother, his voice a soundboard mix of hurt and resentment. “You each mean the world to me. How could you shut me out?”

  “To protect you,” Roxy heard herself blurt out before she’d thought of anything better to say.

  “Protect me? From what? From who?” Zayne gave her an icy stare. “The only person or thing I need to steer clear of is you, Roxy. You’re nothing but trouble. The more you try to fit in, the bigger messes you make.”

  “Zayne, that’s enough,” Kat said with a stone cold tone Roxy had never heard her use on her son. “You apologize.”

  “I’m not —”

  “Yes. You will. No son of mine treats a woman like that. Now, Zayne. And I mean it.” Kat lay back into her pillow. “And make it snappy. I’m supposed to be resting.”

  “Kat, he owes me nothing.” Roxy stepped beside Zayne, using the bed rails to garner strength. “I betrayed him and our friendship.”

  “You, my dear, did as I, also your friend, asked of you.” Kat tended her covers, as if straightening the cheap disheveled fabric would dissipate the negative energy bouncing between all three of them. “But if you prefer to cover his rude ass in front of his mother, I respect that. Just make sure he apologizes later.”

  “Speaking of apologies, I’ve been thinking about ways to fix all of this.” Roxy gestured to the room-at-large, then rested a hand on Zayne’s shoulder long enough to feel him flinch and pull away.

  Kat took a big gulp of air followed by two short gasps. “Okay. Out with it, dear, before Rhonda kicks you bo
th out for roughing me up.”

  Zayne rushed to give his mom another drink and fluff her pillow then placed his hands on hers.

  “Well, Dr. Walters says your lifestyle must be substantially modified,” Roxy began, then cleared her throat.

  “Oh, she’ll be modifying it by sitting her ass at home. Trust me.” Zayne wasted no time dumbing down Roxy’s treatment analysis.

  “And who’s going to run The Neon Cowboy while I’m sitting on my ass?” Kat countered, the muscles tightening in her jaws as she waited for an answer.

  “I am,” Roxy said, rocking back on her heels, not liking the sharp clack they produced against the examining room’s parquet floor. “While you’re sitting at Raeve taking care of my customers.”

  The indignity in Kat’s eyes eased. Her rigid jaw relaxed.

  “You don’t cook or bartend,” Zayne fired back, attempting to dismiss Roxy’s idea with sarcasm-rimmed reality.

  “No, I don’t, but Jules does. And Cody too, right?” Roxy pulled-up a chair and curled her legs underneath her in her best thinking pose.

  “You’re doing well so far,” Kat said. “What else you got?”

  “Well, I can definitely keep the saloon’s gift corral running and stocked, teach line dancing lessons, and chat- up the customers.” Her confidence on a roll, Roxy kept two-stepping through her solution to their dilemma. “Audrey is a marketing genius. So she can help at Raeve and oversee Damian’s construction of the new shelving and displays you suggested.”

  Zayne tapped his boot against the wheels of the bed. “Where do I fit into your plan?”

  “That’s just it. I’ve got it covered. All you have to worry about are your tomatoes.” Expecting him to like the idea, Roxy was surprised to see him tense up. The muscles in his forearms twitched. “What am I missing? I thought you’d be thrilled?”

  She was right, he should be pleased with her suggestions, Zayne thought. But he wasn’t. Besides the fact he was reeling from their betrayal, he had no intentions of spending so much time away from the saloon or his mother. Although the tomatoes could use his complete attention.