by Pamela Tracy
Mud that oozed over her sandals and between her toes. Cold mud.
Following Joe’s directions, Annie drove his truck to the edge of the ditch, with the passenger side door as close to Max’s driver’s side door as possible.
“We’ll stop whenever you say,” Joe said. “I don’t care what you think—don’t you dare put weight on it. If you feel yourself about to fall, holler. I’ll support you.”
“I’m fine,” Max insisted.
“He was better earlier when I helped him back into the car,” Willa said.
“I have no idea where you got the strength to do that.” Joe was on a box, edging his dad forward. Her mom was behind, ready to hold on in case Max slipped. Annie was at Joe’s side, ready to assist once Max got within reach.
Slowly, Max slid from the car, good leg first, and then all three of them—Joe, Annie, and her mom—carried him over the mud and up the side of the ditch.
Jacko stood guard at the top of the ditch and barked advice.
It wasn’t a graceful rescue, but it was a rescue nonetheless.
Annie’s mom got her second wind. “I started to walk back to town, but we’d turned this way and that, and I didn’t know which way to go. I was so afraid I wouldn’t remember where we’d left the road that I put some of the tools Max had in the trunk by the road as a marker. Then I kept worrying someone would come steal them. I walked until I came to a divided road. It didn’t have any signs and it was starting to get dark. I knew then that I’d be taking a chance if I kept going.”
“Mom, you did fine. You stayed by the road and waited.”
“I should have kept walking. I’d have found a farmhouse. Those cows had to belong to someone.”
“Your daughter’s right, Willa.” Max was breathing hard as they helped him into the passenger side of the truck. “You did fine. If someone hadn’t driven by tonight, I’d have sent you out in the morning. That way I wouldn’t be worried about you walking in the dark.”
“I’ve never been so scared in my life,” Willa said.
“I wasn’t scared,” Max said. Even in pain, he put on his seat belt and gave Jacko a pat. “Once Willa got me back in the car, I said a prayer. That’s all I needed.”
Joe and Annie quickly cleaned out the back of the extended cab so there would be room for both women. Once Joe had the vehicle started, Annie reached over and took her mother’s hand. “Mom, are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine,” Mom said, “but I’m a little angry at the cows.”
“Me, too,” agreed Max. “They wouldn’t mooove out of the way fast enough.”
Joe was the only one who didn’t laugh.
* * * * *
Annie’s mother had kept up a steady dialogue the whole way to Kansas City. Not just to those in the car, but on the phone, too. During the calls to her daughters back in Arizona, Joe noticed she got a little testy with the oldest one, just the way Annie did. The youngest daughter kept Willa on the phone the longest. In the back, sitting next to her mother, Annie was quiet, and once again was feeding the kitten. Joe wondered what she was thinking.
If they were alone, he’d ask.
It wasn’t Joe’s first time to Kansas City’s big hospital, but that didn’t mean he knew the way. Max, who’d preached for almost forty years, had been there often—visiting not only members of the church but anyone else on his preacher radar. Sometimes on those long ago days, his father’s absence had bothered Joe. After all, a drive to Kansas City to visit someone in the hospital took time away from playing Legos with Joe, took time away from taking Joe to the park, and took time away from watching Joe play baseball in high school.
He understood a bit more today, a bit more right this minute, because to Joe’s surprise, the sheriff and Frank Miller, the elder Joe had spoken with earlier, were sitting on a bench outside the emergency room door. Seeing the people who loved his father enough to drive dark roads and then come all the way to Kansas City, Joe suddenly understood his father and what he’d been doing all those years.
As two orderlies helped Max onto the stretcher, Willa confided in Joe, “I kept talking because it seemed to take his mind off the pain.”
Joe nodded and followed his dad through the doors and into a big lobby. Behind him he could hear Willa talking to the sheriff and Frank. Her voice, reassuring, probably did more to comfort Joe than it did the two men. It took a minute at the nurses’ station, but soon Dad was in a private room with a nurse taking his blood pressure.
When they were finally alone and Joe had helped his father into a hospital gown, he divulged, “I kept Willa talking because it seemed to calm her down.”
“Dad, what were you thinking?”
“That I wanted to go on a nice, leisurely drive. If it weren’t for those stupid cows, we’d have been fine.”
“You’ve been driving around cows and kids and tractors your whole life.”
“And until today I didn’t realize how much I hated driving around those cows and kids and tractors all alone. I was with a charming woman and I wanted it to last longer, so I thought I’d show her some scenery and even a little of my family’s history.”
“You hired her to do a job. That’s all.”
“She’s doing her job.”
“She hasn’t found the coins.”
“You can’t expect her to accomplish in one week what we haven’t accomplished in ten years.”
The doctor came in just then and Joe scooted to the wall to give the man room.
The routine wasn’t all that different from what Joe had gone through last week setting a collie’s broken leg, except that the patient could answer the questions posed without the help of a third party. It made it much easier to ascertain exactly where the break was, gently explore the area with fingers, take an X-ray, and finally bandage.
The collie had whimpered. Max grumbled, insisting repeatedly that his leg wasn’t broken. The collie hadn’t even bared his teeth at Joe’s probing fingers. Max didn’t bare his teeth, although he’d practically come out of the hospital bed when the doctor’s capable fingers assessed the damage.
Once they’d wheeled Max out of the room and to X-ray, Joe headed for the waiting room.
“The sheriff wasn’t able to stay,” Willa said. She didn’t even look tired. “He got a call and said to contact him when you have something to report.”
Joe looked around. “Where’s Annie?”
“She went to the restroom to clean up,” Willa said.
“Max going to be all right?” Frank Miller stood, yawned, and stretched. Frank had been his father’s best friend for decades. Funny, Joe just now noticed how gray Frank was getting and how much smaller he looked. The man also looked tired, but thanks to Max, they all did.
“He’ll be fine,” Joe said. “Thanks so much for sticking around. I can’t believe you came here knowing it was probably just a break.”
“I was already up, and I was already somewhat in the neighborhood. Agnes will appreciate that she gets to pass on firsthand news. So, tell me, how’s the old man doing?”
Joe gave him a quick summary, finishing with, “They’ll probably dope him up and keep him for a few hours. He’ll have something to talk about for the next month.”
“He’s already given us plenty to talk about,” Frank said, reaching for his hat and looking at Willa. She was too worried about Max to notice.
Joe agreed. Not only had his father given the town of Bonner Springs something to talk about, but Annie’s mother—such a colorful bird—had also.
Yes, their parents had certainly given the town something to talk about. They’d given Annie and Joe something else. Something to worry about.
Chapter Ten
It could have been an uncomplicated simple fracture. However, since it had remained untreated for hours, the swelling had made merely refitting the bones nearly impossible. So, after all the X-rays, Max went into a cast and would remain in the emergency room under observation for a while longer. He was also dehydr
ated and his blood pressure was up, thanks to choosing to break his ankle in the middle of nowhere and without the means of getting help.
“What would you like me to do?” Willa sat in the chair next to Max’s hospital bed and looked at Joe. “Do you want me to stay here and keep him company while you go home and do what you have to do? It could be hours.”
“Pshaw,” Max said to Willa. “You go to Margaret’s and get some rest. You’re the one who walked miles trying to find help. You’re the one who had to lift me back into the car.”
“I needed the exercise.”
“I can’t believe I fell out of the car and broke my ankle,” Max complained, albeit good-naturedly.
“I can’t believe between the two of you, you didn’t have a phone to call for help,” Joe grumbled.
“Could have been worse,” Willa quipped and cited another statistic. “Did you know that eight hundred adults go missing in Texas every year? At least you found us.”
“Mom, how do you know how many adults go missing in Texas?”
“It was on some handout I had to read for my criminal justice class.”
Joe shook his head. “Kansas is not as big as Texas.”
“That’s beside the point,” Max said.
Joe looked at Annie. The expression on her face mirrored his. Who are these people and what have they done with our parents? Joe had never seen his dad this sappy. He had no idea about Willa. Maybe she acted like this all the time.
“I’ll go get Aunt Margaret’s car. It will be easier to get you and your cast inside.”
“Your truck’s fine,” Max insisted.
“But you’re not fine,” Joe replied as he checked the time on his cell phone. “Look, I’ve got to check on a few things, and then I’ll be back.” Before his dad could protest again, Joe gave him a hug and headed for the door.
Annie followed. “Just take me back to your dad’s house. I’ll get my car and come back for Mom. You can do whatever you need to do without worrying about us.”
“I don’t think those two plan on separating.”
Her silence as they walked to the parking lot was all the answer he needed. She saw it, too.
Opening the truck door to help Annie in, Joe saw that Jacko was the only sane being—snoring comfortably on his blanket in the middle of the seat. The kitten was awake and mewing for sustenance. Annie didn’t hesitate, just got busy taking care of the tiny creature.
“I’ll make sure your mother gets back to Margaret’s later on today,” Joe said. “You don’t need to worry about her or my dad, just get some sleep.”
“I’m fine.”
She didn’t look fine. She looked tired. She’d washed her face, and he could no longer see any evidence of tears. He started the truck, turning on the lights and heading out onto a deserted street. “The sun’s already rising. You might want—”
“I’m fine. I just need some coffee, lots of coffee.”
“You need some sleep, lots of sleep, and you’ll be feeding that baby every three hours. A schedule like that gets old fast, believe me.”
“Do you always tell people what to do?”
He deserved that. He’d pretty much run the show during the search, deciding when and where to stop. Maybe he’d been a little hard on her, but he’d been worried. “No, I don’t always tell people what to do. Animals yes, people no.”
“You might be saying no, but I’m hearing yes.”
“You have to remember I’m an only child. We do pretty much run the show.”
“Well, I’m a middle child, put on this earth to make sure my big sister knew she only ‘thought’ she ran the show. You take care of your father and I’ll take care of my mother.”
He started to protest, then realized that was exactly how he wanted it.
Really, it was.
Only, if all the other stuff disappeared, Joe wouldn’t mind taking care of Annie.
Whoa. Stop. Obviously, he needed sleep. It was a murky mind that had him turning as sappy as his dad. Yes, sleep deprivation was to blame. This was going to be night number two without much sleep, and besides transporting his father from the Kansas City hospital to Bonner Springs, he had plenty of things to do.
What did he have planned for today, a today that was already making its presence known as the sun grandly peeked over the horizon?
First, take care of the kitten. Convenience stores were a dime a dozen in Kansas City. Joe pulled into the parking lot of the first one he saw.
“Coffee.” Annie’s eyes lit up. “Real coffee.”
“The hospital had real coffee,” Joe said.
Annie just made a face and exited the truck. She’d only gone a few steps when she stopped suddenly.
“What?” Joe asked.
“I just realized how I look.”
“You look fine. A little muddy, but fine.”
Ten minutes later they were back in the truck. Joe turned in the direction of home, and next to him, Annie carefully measured yogurt into the warm water she’d filled the bottle with. Then, she took a big sip of coffee and settled back, looking quite comfortable in his truck.
It didn’t feel like a Wednesday. It felt like a surreal Saturday. For Joe, Wednesdays were farm days again. He was supposed to be on the road. Then, too, he needed to start looking for someone to hire permanently. He thought about asking Annie to man the office, just field phone calls and direct walk-ins, but, he reminded himself, she was neither friend nor family.
He smiled. Too bad, because he already knew enough about her to realize she’d clean the place up—in more ways than one.
But he didn’t need to worry about any of that today, not really. If a pet owner really needed him, they had his cell. And he’d put notes on his door before, explaining absences. The woman next to him needed a good night’s sleep. At worst, Annie would scare his patients. Her hair, once again, was flat on the side. At best, she’d fall asleep at the front desk.
Unbidden came the memory of finding her asleep in her car early Monday morning, just two days ago, about this same time. If he remembered correctly, he’d wanted her—no, not her, but someone like her—under his Christmas tree, all wrapped up and just for him.
Forever.
Before he had time to really consider the directions his thoughts were heading, his phone sounded. He didn’t even look at caller ID—he figured it would be someone asking about Dad.
It wasn’t.
“Sorry to bother you,” Cliff Whittaker said, “but something happened to Dot. Something either got to her or the fool horse has gone and run into something sharp. I don’t know. But she’s got at least two jagged wounds on the pastern of her left front leg. They’re deep, deeper than I’m able to deal with. I can’t stop the blood.”
“You think it’s an artery?”
Cliff hesitated, but only a moment. “No, not an artery. Still, it’s more blood than usual.”
“She able to walk?”
“Not what I’d call a walk.”
“Was she in the pasture when this happened? Did she get near a fence?”
“She was pastured, but I can’t imagine the fence doing this.”
“I’m on my way,” Joe promised. Before ending the call, he asked what Cliff had done as far as ice and wrapping. Then Joe looked at the woman next to him.
Her eyes were weary but her smile wasn’t. “So, where are we going?”
“Blue Sunflower Farm. Friend of mine, Billy Whittaker’s place, well, his dad’s place. They have a few quarter horses and his favorite mare’s hurt. I’d take you home first, but then I’d have to backtrack. Dot might have damaged her tendon, so I’d like to get out there as soon as possible. Billy and I go way back.”
“Let’s go,” Annie said.
“Call the hospital—you remember dad’s room number? See if they know what time he’ll be released.”
Annie obeyed, finding out that two in the afternoon was the best estimate. Then she called her sisters. Joe listened as she spoke to Beth, who must
have answered on the first ring and, judging by the one-sided conversation he was privy to, was annoyed at being out of the loop—if there was a loop—for so long.
Cathy didn’t answer, so Annie left a message, not only giving her a brief update but adding, “Remember to make note cards for your Spanish class and read them aloud to yourself.”
Then she called her assistant, someone named Rachel, who had a cold and wasn’t going to work today. Watching Annie’s face, he realized that her being here in Bonner Springs to retrieve her mother meant a real sacrifice.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“No, not really,” she answered softly.
Joe swerved to miss a squirrel running across the road, and Annie cradled the box, making sure the kitten didn’t get spooked. The squirrel stopped, stood on its tiny back legs, and stared as Joe’s truck left the pavement, skidded on the dirt, and then scrambled for pavement again. Thanks to the bumpy detour, Jacko woke up, stood, stretched, and then turned so he could sleep with his muzzle on Annie’s leg.
“It’s just one thing after another out here, isn’t it?” she noted.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve known you two days and so far you’ve been involved in two cornfield rescues, first me and then your dad. That has to be some kind of record. Then you’ve managed to lose a receptionist, gain a kitten, and now you’re going to help a horse. All on little or no sleep.”
“With the exception of cornfield rescues, everything else is par for the course. And I didn’t gain a kitten, I think you did. But, yes, things were a lot easier before your mother and you showed up,” he agreed.
“Which is why I need to get busy helping my mom find those coins so I can get her home before something else goes wrong.”
Joe shook his head. “Finding those coins comes with a price, one my dad hasn’t considered. What if Kyle did take them? What if somehow one of you stumbles onto proof—not that I think you will, mind you, but what if you do? All these years there’s been a debate. Ending this debate and solving the mystery might not make things better.”