Come Home, Cowboy

by Cathy McDavid

  Teddy’s screeching reached Cara’s ears even at this distance. She felt terrible for her friend. At the same time, she envied Summer. Her son was alive.

  With Hurry Up happily munching on an oat and bran mixture, Cara sought out Summer and Teddy. They were at Summer’s car, parked in front of the stable. Teddy sat in the rear seat, a quilt thrown over him and covering his face. Summer crouched inside the open car door, softly reciting a nursery rhyme.

  Cara had seen this before. The weight of the quilt and the darkness, along with the sound of Summer’s voice, calmed Teddy. After a few moments, he stopped struggling and quieted. Summer slowly stood, strain showing on her face.

  “Sorry about that.”

  Cara dismissed her with a wave. “As if you have anything to apologize for.”

  “He’ll be okay now.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing.” Summer smiled weakly. “But thanks.”

  “Here.” Cara tugged her friend around to the rear of the car. She also knew from experience that Teddy would remain where he was. “Relax. Breathe deep.”

  “He’s been agitated more than usual lately.”

  “Any reason in particular?”

  “Hal came by earlier this week.”

  “Oh.” Cara nodded.

  “He hasn’t seen Teddy for months. Then, boom, he shows up out of the blue, deciding he’s going to be a father.” She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “I wish I’d never agreed to visitation.”

  “You could go back to court.”

  “No, thank you!” Summer lifted her chin, visibly composing herself, then promptly changed the subject. “At least Josh is trying to be a good father.”

  Cara made a face. Couldn’t they talk about something else? “The man’s impossible.”

  “He’s taking responsibility for his kids and giving them a secure home. That says a lot about a person.”

  Cara waited until the pain in her chest subsided. “I hate it when you’re right.”

  “Give him a chance. I get that it’s hard for you to think about someone else living in the apartment you shared with Javier. Someone with children. But it really is best for them.”

  “I thought he’d keep the guest suite and his brother Cole would move out.”

  “You hoped.”

  “He wants Hurry Up for his children.”

  “Aren’t they a little young to ride?”

  “Yes.”

  Summer smiled. “But you’re going to let him adopt the horse.”

  Cara shrugged one shoulder. “Sponsor the horse. For a monthly stipend. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll take Hurry Up back.”

  “Sounds like a good compromise.”

  “He wants the black stallion, too. He didn’t tell me, but I overhead him talking to Cole. I’m less inclined to agree.”

  “Because?”

  Cara groaned in frustration.

  “Let him sponsor the horses, Cara. You’re always looking for good homes. What better home is there than Dos Estrellas?”

  Right again. This was getting old.

  “Muh, muh,” Teddy called from inside the car.

  Summer glanced over her shoulder. “I’d better go. He’s getting restless.”

  At the driver side door, the two women hugged. Summer tucked a lock of Cara’s hair behind her ear in an affectionate gesture.

  “You’re stronger than you think,” she said. “You can handle this.”

  Maybe. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Rather than return to the house, Cara walked through the horse stable. It wasn’t Hurry Up that drew her, but the apartment stairs. The next thing she knew, she stood on the landing.

  Her hand reached for the knob and turned it. The door wasn’t locked, and she slowly entered, her bootsteps soft on the braided area rug. Josh and the children weren’t due for several hours.

  Like a ghost, she silently walked across the small living room, down the hall and to the bedroom. Her heart lurched at the sight of the crib set up in one corner and the changing table beside it. She’d furnished the room similarly. The only difference was the youth bed in the opposite corner.

  Summer had been wrong. Cara wasn’t strong at all.

  She noticed the covers on the electrical outlets were still in place, as well as safety locks on the windows and doors. An inspection of the closet yielded a baby gate tucked in the back.

  Josh would need that. Stairs were dangerous for toddlers, though that wasn’t where Javier had fallen. After all her worrying and diligent watchfulness, something as seemingly harmless as the laundry room was the site of his fatal accident.

  She rested a trembling hand on the crib railing. “Oh, mijo. I miss you so much.”

  Distant voices distracted her, and she quickly withdrew her hand. The voices were accompanied by the sound of someone climbing the stairs. Who was here? Her mind had barely asked the question when she heard the unmistakable sound of Josh’s voice.

  “Come on, buddy. That’s it. Grab the railing.”

  “I firsty, Daddy.”

  “We’ll get you some water in a minute.”

  Cara panicked and searched frantically for an escape route. There was none. Josh was going to catch her in the apartment. What would he think? What excuse could she offer?

  She dashed toward the living room, preferring to be caught there than in the bedroom. Her mind emptied the moment Josh entered the apartment.

  He held the hand of a young boy bundled in a warm jacket and knitted cap, and with the same striking blue eyes as his father. In his other hand, Josh held a baby carrier. From beneath the rainbow-colored blanket, a chubby face peeked out, rosy-cheeked and sucking on a pacifier.

  Both children were incredibly beautiful, and Cara’s heart lurched anew.

  “I, ah, didn’t mean to intrude,” she stammered and brushed self-consciously at her damp eyes.

  Josh strode forward. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I could use some assistance.”

  “From me?”

  He smiled, and she wished he hadn’t. This was hard enough for her, and she didn’t need him being nice.

  “Can you hold Kimberly for a minute? Nathan’s thirsty, and I promised him some water.”

  Without waiting for her answer, Josh handed her the baby carrier.

  Cara watched as her hand, acting on its own, grabbed the carrier. She stood frozen in place while Josh went to the refrigerator, removed a jug of water and poured some into a plastic sippy cup he’d produced from...she had no idea where.

  “Here you go, buddy.”

  The boy, Nathan, drank, never taking his eyes off Cara. She couldn’t meet his stare and instead gazed down at Kimberly, the baby’s face that of an angel.

  Suddenly, Cara’s hand shook. Afraid she might drop the carrier, she set it down on the floor.

  “Are you okay?” Josh asked.

  She wasn’t sure and stumbled toward the couch. The cushions dipped as she sat. She’d forgotten how old and uncomfortable the couch was. Josh would probably have trouble sleeping on the pullout bed. She had.

  “I haven’t been around little children much...lately.” She wrung her hands nervously. Why wasn’t she leaving?

  Josh sat on the other end of the couch, balancing Nathan on his lap. “We’ll try to keep out of your way as much as possible.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” It was her problem to handle, not his.

  Nathan didn’t want to sit and scrambled off Josh’s lap. He walked over to his sleeping sister and set his sippy cup in the carrier at her feet.

  That made no sense. Then again, he wasn’t three years old yet.

  “Daddy, I hungry.”

  “The kid eats like nothing I’ve ever seen.” Josh go
t off the couch and headed to the kitchen. “Raquel put some hot dogs in the fridge.”

  “Hot dogs!” Nathan tumbled excitedly into the kitchen.

  The boy grabbed the counter edge as Josh removed a perfectly good hot dog from the package, arranged it on a paper plate and put it in the microwave. Ninety seconds later, the pair of them stared dejectedly at a deformed hot dog.

  “I guess I messed that up.” Josh shot the microwave a dirty look as if it were responsible.

  Nathan started to cry.

  Cara pushed to her feet, fully intending to leave. Except, she didn’t. Going into the kitchen, she automatically patted Nathan on the head before realizing her mistake. His hair was the texture of silk.

  “Hot dogs take thirty seconds to heat,” she said, examining her hand before brushing it on her jeans.

  Josh placed a second one on the paper plate. “I have a lot to learn.” He pressed buttons on the microwave. This time, when the buzzer sounded, the hot dog looked edible. He cut it into small pieces and then carried the plate to the table.

  “Did you bring a booster seat?” Cara assured herself that the baby slept peacefully in her carrier on the floor. It was as good a place as any.

  Josh shook his head. “I don’t know. My in-laws and Trista did most of the packing.”

  “Daddy. Hungry!” Nathan complained impatiently.

  “Wait.” Cara hurried to the hall closet. The extra pillows were there, just like before. Back at the table, she set the pillows on a chair, then instructed Nathan, “Sit here.”

  He eagerly clambered into the chair, situated himself and began stuffing pieces of hot dog into his mouth.

  Satisfied, she started for the door. “I’ll leave you to your dinner.”

  “Before you go.” Josh intercepted her. “I have a deal to propose.”

  Her suspicions flared. This must be about the horses. “What kind of deal?”

  “Clearly, I need help with my kids.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

  He smiled. “I could use a teacher. I was thinking of you.”

  “No.” She jerked back so quickly, she bumped into the door.

  “Hear me out first.” Josh continued speaking, ignorant of, or indifferent to, her distress. “You show me the ropes, and I’ll help you with the sanctuary. Anything you need. And I won’t pressure you to give up the land.”

  Did he not realize how hard this would be for her?

  She glanced at Nathan, smashing the last bite of hot dog into his plate rather than eating it. Kimberly had started stirring and would whimper any second. Most babies her age cried when they woke from a nap.

  Cara wanted to run and not stop until she was a thousand miles away. She also wanted to hold Kimberly. The two longings waged a war inside her. Eventually, one prevailed.

  Going to the carrier, she undid the straps and lifted the baby into her arms. A splendid feeling washed over her. Cara cradled the baby close as tears filled her eyes. She wondered if they were tears of sorrow or joy.

  “All right,” she murmured and gently rocked the baby. “We have a deal.”

  Chapter Four

  Nathan had decided to help Josh unpack. As a result, clothes and toys littered the bedroom floor. And now the boy was constructing diaper towers of varying heights.

  “Come on, buddy.” Josh tucked Kimberly in the crook of his arm. For once, she wasn’t crying. “Time to clean up this mess.”

  “I almost done, Daddy.”

  Josh should have been grateful. Mess aside, the diaper project had kept Nathan occupied and out of trouble for the past thirty minutes.

  Hold on. Making a mess was getting into trouble. Oh, well. It beat emptying the bottom cupboards, which was what Nathan had done when they first got up this morning at seven.

  That was late for Josh. Typically, he rose earlier. But he’d been exhausted last night, falling into bed—make that onto the pullout couch—and sleeping poorly. Taking care of two young children was hard work. Not that he hadn’t been alone with them for long stretches before now. But it had been a while ago, and he hadn’t been in the midst of moving. Also, Nathan had become considerably more rambunctious and Kimberly more demanding, if that was possible.

  Laying Kimberly on the changing table, he quickly nabbed the diaper at his feet. He was ready to put it on when he realized he had the wrong size. This was one of Nathan’s diapers and considerably larger than Kimberly’s.

  “Son, what did you do with your sister’s diapers?”

  Kimberly started crying again, probably because she was cold, what with her bottom half-undressed. Darn, but the apartment was chilly.

  “Here.” Nathan patted the top of a crooked diaper tower.

  “Can you bring me one, please?” Josh kept a hand pressed on Kimberly’s stomach. She’d started kicking her legs, and he was afraid she might roll over the railing and off the table. “Hurry.”

  Nathan took his time selecting the perfect diaper.

  “Any one of them will do, son.”

  Nathan handed him a diaper and Josh quickly put it on Kimberly. Aware that it sagged on one side, Josh nonetheless slipped his daughter into a pair of pink sweatpants and wrestled socks onto her feet. The kitten faces on the sock toes seemed to fascinate her. She stopped crying and lifted one foot for closer examination.

  Josh cringed. How could she twist herself like that and not pop a joint out of place?

  “Hungry, Daddy.” Nathan tugged on the hem of Josh’s white undershirt.

  Somewhere in the messy living room was the shirt he hadn’t had time to throw on yet this morning. “Give me a minute, okay?”

  “Where’s Mommy?”

  Josh paused in the middle of cradling a now fully dressed Kimberly in his arms. Nathan had asked this question at least five times in the past day.

  “Mommy’s gone to a special place, remember? She’ll be there for a while. Until she feels better.” Josh hadn’t told Nathan about his mother agreeing to continued outpatient services along with residency in a halfway house. His son wouldn’t understand.

  “She’s sick?”

  They started walking toward the kitchen, Josh bouncing a whining Kimberly. He imagined she was hungry, too. “That’s right, son. And when she’s better, she’ll come visit you. Or I’ll take you to see her.”

  “I miss her.”

  Josh ruffled Nathan’s hair. “I know.”

  Trista wasn’t always the best mother. Frequently high on pain pills and lost in a haze, she’d neglected the kids. On the other hand, she had sober days. Trista with a clear head doted on her children and lavished them with affection. It wasn’t any wonder Nathan missed her.

  “I miss her, too, son.”

  Funny thing, Josh did miss Trista. Not the woman she was today, but the one he’d met and fallen in love with. Unfortunately, he’d lost that Trista years ago in the car accident.

  He’d been at the Payson Rodeo. They’d celebrated their anniversary the weekend before. Sure, that first year had been tough, but didn’t most newlyweds go through an adjustment period? Truth be told, they hadn’t known each other long before eloping to Vegas. Just five months.

  The call had come in right after he’d qualified for the calf roping finals. Trista had been driving home from work and was struck by a vehicle running a red light. The other driver was cited and, luckily, “No one was seriously hurt.”

  Josh could still remember the police officer saying those words to him during the phone call. He’d recall them during Trista’s worst bouts with addiction and think, not seriously hurt?

  She’d suffered a broken nose and fractured cheek from colliding with the air bag, in addition to a wrenched back and whiplash. Trista, it turned out, was slow to recover and in constant pain. Standard treatments hadn’t
helped. Pain pills were the only thing to provide relief.

  Eventually, the doctor cut her off. She saw a different one, then another, changing her story each time. Maybe because Josh was on the road a lot competing, maybe because he didn’t have much experience with addicts, it had taken him almost a full year to realize his wife had a problem.

  He got her into a program, and she cleaned up. She stayed sober long enough to get pregnant and have Nathan.

  Six months later, she was using again. Worse this time. A second stint in rehab also got her clean. Josh had high hopes she’d stay sober, especially when she got pregnant with Kimberly.

  Then, one day, he came home from a particularly grueling rodeo and found Trista passed out on the kitchen floor. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Nathan had been confined to his room with a baby gate, dirty, smelly and hungry. Who knew for how long? Six-week-old Kimberly was in her crib, in the same condition as her brother and wailing at the top of her lungs.

  In that moment, Josh realized he needed to put his children first. Before his marriage and before his career.

  After Trista woke up, he announced he was taking the kids to his grandparents’ place the following day. It didn’t happen. Trista sneaked off with the kids sometime during the night. Two weeks later, the private investigator he hired found them staying with a distant cousin in Louisiana. That spring, she did the same thing again. The PI located her and the kids in Nevada, and when Trista reluctantly brought them home, Josh served her with divorce papers and a demand for full custody.

  “How about cereal?” Josh sat Nathan at the table, using the pillows Cara had made into a booster chair the previous afternoon.

  “I want eggs.”

  “Eggs. Hmm.” Did they have any?

  Josh put Kimberly in the baby carrier, buckled the safety belts and placed her in the middle of the kitchen floor where he could keep an eye on her. She started fussing, and he grabbed a rattle and pacifier. She spit out the pacifier but accepted the rattle. That freed Josh to fix her a bottle of formula, warm a jar of strained bananas and scramble eggs for him and Nathan.

  Thank you, Raquel, for stocking the kitchen.