by Lyn Cote
“Jake, you realize that if you do this,” Dan said in an I know more than you do tone, “you’ll never get rid of the animals.”
“Maybe I don’t want to get rid of them,” Jake said, suddenly buzzing with anger. “In fact, my dream is to have this barn filled with animals and kids…like Tommy.”
At the mention of his late son who had suffered from Down syndrome, Jake’s father turned and left the barn. Mike and Jake stood in place, Jake still seething with his unexpected flush of anger.
Mike shook his head. “You two have spent too many years not talking about what happened to your mom and brother. Jake, even if your dad had been here, he couldn’t have changed anything. Accidents happen. You’re not mad at your dad about the accident. You’re mad at him for something else. Figure it out.” Mike walked out—leaving Jake alone and bewildered by what he had just said.
Around three in the afternoon, Jeannie pondered the empty waiting room at the clinic. An emergency call hurried Jake out early and Sandy had a dental appointment to keep. The afternoon appointments had petered out.
Today the unusually harsh cold had given way to this winter’s “usual” cold, but people still didn’t like to be out in the bitter early darkness of afternoon. As soon as the sun started going down after three, everyone planned to be at home if possible. She didn’t blame them. I wish I had a home to go to.
Jeannie brushed this aside, wondering if Mike had been able to get the barn’s plumbing and heating situation checked out. Jake had filled them all in on his plans for a temporary shelter. She hoped everything would work out. As for her, she and the girls were cramped but safe and warm at the Dew Drop Inn. On the way there tonight, Jeannie planned to pick up a few groceries that would work in her restricted kitchen: a dorm fridge, a hot plate, a coffeemaker and a microwave. The twins were back in school and within the hour, she would pick them up.
The clinic door opened and Ginny and Mike walked in.
Jeannie rose. “Hi. Jake’s not back from an emergency call.”
“We didn’t come to see Jake,” Mike replied.
“We came to see you,” Ginny said with a serious expression.
Jeannie wrinkled her forehead. “What about? I’ll do anything I can to help with the animal shelter problem.”
Mike approached the counter. “I’ve got things rolling, though it’s going to take time to get the plumbing and heating evaluated. But we came about where you can live till your house is finished.”
Hope springing up within, Jeannie moved out from her desk and locked the front door of the clinic. “Let’s go sit down in the break room. I’m not expecting any more patients today.”
When the three of them were settled in the break room, Jeannie gazed expectantly at them. “Have you found a place for me and the girls?”
“Yes, I’m going to move into Jake’s place and let you and the girls take my little house for the rest of the winter,” Mike announced.
“Oh, no—” Jeannie raised a hand in objection “—that’s too much trouble for you—”
“No, it isn’t,” Ginny said. “Mike isn’t a pack rat. He’ll just pack up his clothes and a few books and the place will be ready for you.”
“No, really.” Jeannie shook her head, the sudden hope shriveling. “I can’t allow you to do this. It’s too much trouble to put you to.”
“We knew you’d take on like this,” Mike said. “Now why won’t you let me do this for you? It’s no big deal.”
Before Jeannie could begin her next refusal, the clinic phone rang. She stepped through the connecting door into Jake’s office and picked up his phone. “McClure Veterinary—”
“Hello! This is an emergency.” The woman caller’s urgent voice sounded familiar.
“Dr. McClure is already out on an emergency call. If you give me your situation, location and number, I will have the doctor contact you as soon as possible.” Jeannie grabbed a pen and notepad.
“This isn’t about an animal. This is Brooke Hyde. Dr. McClure’s father has fainted here at my house.”
Faces and connections swarmed Jeannie’s mind. Brooke? This was the woman who owned the poodle. “Dr. McClure has fainted at your house? Have you called 911?”
“Oh! He’s coming to. But I still think his son should come.” The woman hung up.
Jeannie returned the receiver to the cradle. “Mike!” she called to the next room. “Dan McClure just fainted at Brooke—” what was her name? “—at Brooke Hyde’s place. I’m going to call Jake.”
Jeannie dialed Jake’s cell. Ginny and Mike appeared beside her. She pressed her lips together in worry. The call went to Jake’s voice mail. Hanging up, Jeannie flipped open Jake’s patient rolodex on his desk and jotted down Brooke’s phone number and address.
She turned to them. “Can you two pick up the girls at school and take Bummer to Jake’s? I told Jake I would let Bummer have some time with the girls, so Jake didn’t take him along.” She started toward the door. “I’ve got to go to Jake at his emergency call. He’ll want to know this.” I hope Brooke has enough sense to call 911 if Dan’s condition worsens.
“We’ll take the girls to my place, where you will be moving soon,” Mike said. “Call us when you know something.”
“I will!” Jeannie jogged to the back entrance, grabbed her coat and was out the door.
Within a few miles, she drove up to a dairy farm and saw Jake’s pickup parked by the tall red barn. She braced herself against the increasing cold in the dimming sunlight. And then she sprinted over the gravel drive packed with snow. She let herself inside the warm barn and paused, listening for voices. Panting, she heard Jake’s and hurried down the aisle of stalls to one at the end.
Jake looked up. “Jeannie?”
“Your dad fainted,” she gasped, out of breath. She yanked out the paper with Brooke’s information. “Here. He fainted at Brooke Hyde’s, you know the woman with the French poodle.” The one who hoped to feed you lasagna. This fact sparked an odd reaction in her. But right now lasagna was beside the point.
“What? Fainted?” Jake held up his hands to show her that he’d been in the midst of doing something physical with the cow, which let out a cow groan or howl or whatever it was called.
“Please call Brooke and hold the phone by my ear so I can talk to her,” Jake said.
Jeannie quickly did as he asked. When Brooke answered, Jeannie held the phone up to Jake’s ear. She was close enough to hear both sides of the exchange.
Jake: “My office manager said you called. My dad fainted at your place?”
Brooke: “Yes, we were just having coffee. He stood up and passed out.”
Jake: “Is he still unconscious?”
Brooke: “No, he’s awake now. I just took his car keys away, though. I don’t think he should be driving.”
Dan: “Here let me talk to my son.” Muffled words, then—“I’m fine, Jake. I just passed out. No big deal.”
Jake: “Dad, let’s not do this macho stuff, okay? You know that fainting means something is wrong.”
Dan: “I’m fine.”
Jake: “I’m not even answering that idiotic comment. I’m helping a cow with a twisted breech presentation. Stay where you are and I’ll come and get you as soon as I’m finished.”
Dan’s voice was muffled, but he seemed to be arguing with Brooke.
Brooke: “Jake, I won’t let Dan leave. Don’t worry.”
Dan’s voice in the background: “I only fainted, for goodness’ sake.”
Brooke: “Take care of the cow, Jake.” Her voice suddenly sounded stern. “Dan, you sit down. I don’t want to have to get tough with you.” She hung up.
Jeannie accepted the phone and stared at it. She’d never guessed Brooke had that kind of fire in her.
Jake’s face had drawn down in deep worried lines. “Can you call Mike? Maybe he should go over there till I’m free.”
“Mike and Ginny are picking my girls up at school.”
The cow bellowed, as if
reminding Jake that she was his main concern at the moment. “I’d better tend to her.” Jake turned back to the cow.
Jeannie, who was not even one to watch medical or forensics shows on TV, hurried away from Jake and the cow that was bawling with evident discomfort. Did cows have labor pains? Poor thing.
“Jake!” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll go get the girls so Mike is free to help you!” Jeannie felt as if she’d been buried in an avalanche. What next?
Jake had driven his dad home, promising Brooke he’d come back for his dad’s SUV the next day. Right now, they both sat at the kitchen table with fresh coffee in their mugs, having a speaker-phone conversation with his father’s old friend Lewis, his cardiologist in Madison.
Lewis was saying, “You need to come in for more tests, Dan. Afterward, we can figure out exactly what is causing your symptoms. We didn’t do a heart catheterization last time. And I have a few more hoops for you to jump through before I make a true diagnosis and we can begin treatment.”
Jake listened intently, his jaw set. Why hadn’t his dad told him he was ill?
“I just fainted—” Dan objected.
“Jake,” Lewis interrupted, “how many times has he told me he just fainted? Are you keeping track?”
“I gave up counting. He’s like a broken record.” Jake sat with his arms folded.
“I’m scheduling Dan for the catheterization and a few more tests ASAP. I’ll call as soon as I know the time. Dan, you’ll be here overnight. And afterward we’ll make sure you don’t go fainting on us again anytime soon. Got that?”
“Yeah.” Dan sounded anything but happy. “What choice do I have?”
“Exactly. Gotta run,” Lewis said. “You’ll be hearing from me tomorrow. Jake, I don’t want your father alone from now till he’s back in my hands.”
“Got it. We’ll be like Siamese twins.”
Chuckling, Lewis hung up. Jake punched the speaker button, cutting the connection. The two men sat glaring at each other in the low light.
Jake knew his dad didn’t like the way things were going. My dad’s sick. The words didn’t penetrate. He heard the sound of a car pulling in the drive. Mike.
Soon the older man was banging the back door. “Mom!” Mike called out. “I’m home!”
Mike’s teasing egged Jake to grin. He rose to face Mike as he came into the kitchen with Bummer padding along at his side.
“So are you going to live, Dan?” Mike asked.
“He may,” Jake said grimly, “if he decides to take care of himself. Remember when he went to Madison to visit old friends? Well, the old friends he was visiting were cardiologists—”
“I didn’t want to worry you,” Dan said. “I thought I’d go and it would be nothing.”
Mike sat down and faced him. “Maybe you should start at the beginning and tell us exactly what’s going on.”
Jake bit his lip to keep from saying the wrong thing.
Dan got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. “When I turned sixty early in January, one of my Colorado friends, a doctor, nagged me into finally having a physical. When he told me I needed to have some further tests done on my heart, I decided I wanted it done in Madison by friends I trusted.”
“Heart tests, huh?” Mike commented, sitting down. “Is this serious?”
“I didn’t think so, but the test results came in the mail yesterday,” Dan said.
“Then he fainted this afternoon,” Jake said.
“I know. I was there when that woman with the poodle called the clinic.” Mike poured himself a mug of coffee.
Dan looked peeved. “The lab tests showed some cardiac abnormalities, so I called my friend Lewis this morning and he was going to get me back for more tests to be sure. But now I’ll be going back sooner and will have a catheterization and a few other tests.”
“Sounds like fun,” Mike said.
Dan’s responding grin trembled slightly. “Yeah, fun.”
The tremble hit Jake, switched him from anger at his dad for not confiding in him to the realization that his dad was worried.
Jaw clenched, Jake gripped the handle of his heavy coffee mug. “I’ll clear my schedule so I can go with you.”
“There’s no need,” Dan said, not meeting his son’s eyes. “I can go by myself.”
“No need?” Mike blustered. “You’re nuts. Jake will go with you and me, too.”
“That’s right, Dad,” Jake agreed, making certain his voice sounded assured and compassionate.
Dan changed the subject. “So, Mike, is Jeannie going to take up residence in our old farmworker cottage?”
Surprised at this question, Jake tracked his dad’s expression from the corner of his eye.
“I nearly had to arm wrestle her.” After moving to the sink, Mike began washing his hands. “But she and the girls will move in over the next few days. Tonight I’ll pack up my stuff to bring here and then box up the rest of my personal belongings and stow them in the cellar.”
“What about the animals moving into our barn?” Jake asked.
“Well,” Mike said, turning from the sink, “the plumber’s scheduled and so is the propane guy. We’ll just have to wait and see. Anybody interested in warmed-up beef stew?”
“I’m starving,” Jake said. A question popped in his mind—he resisted asking his father if Brooke had “plied” him with lasagna today. How did the two of them get together? Focusing on that for a moment lessened Jake’s pressure. But what made him feel so much better right now was that Jeannie would not be at the Dew Drop Inn much longer.
Jake got busy setting the table and helping Mike get the meal on the table. He tried not to think of all the heart diseases his dad could have and all their complications. Heart disease. Loneliness shot through Jake like an icy syringe. Dear God, preserve my dad’s life. I barely know him. Give us a second chance, okay?
Chapter Eight
On Friday afternoon after the clinic closed, Jake backed up his pickup so that the rear hatch would open directly in front of Jeannie’s mobile home door. He’d come to help her move out of the trailer and into the little house on his property. The day had dawned surprisingly mild and sunny. At twenty degrees above zero, he almost unzipped his jacket. A front from the Louisiana Gulf had flowed up the Mississippi River Valley and brought some warmth with it—even after four in the afternoon.
This contrasted with the cold chill that had settled in his midsection and wouldn’t budge. Everything about his dad’s heart problems was moving way too fast. No matter what a person’s illness or disease might be, it was always heart failure that caused death. How damaged was his dad’s heart? And would it disable or sideline his active, type A father?
He pushed these worries down deep inside. He was here to help Jeannie and it was a warm sunny day. He opened the road-salt-encrusted back hatch and then turned to Jeannie’s door. His knuckles barely touched the door before Jeannie opened it.
“I saw you backing in. How’s your dad today?”
“He’s his normal cheery self.”
As she drew him inside, Jeannie’s smile looked strained. “I know you’re worried, but when we can’t do anything, that’s when we pray.”
I haven’t really prayed for a long time, not since Mom died. But that had begun to change.
Jeannie gazed into his eyes.
He tried to look away but could not.
She lightly brushed his cheek with her palm. “Have faith. People will let you down. God won’t.”
For a moment, he pressed his cheek against her soft palm. When that was no longer enough, he stepped back—before he kissed her.
Jeannie also stepped back, blushing.
“Let’s get started then.” He forced a broad smile.
“There isn’t much. The girls are at Mike’s already. Ginny is there to watch them. I could have done it by myself in a few trips with the van.” Her voice sounded listless.
Jake tried to navigate the murky currents here. He’d thought he shoul
d offer to help her. Didn’t she want him to help her move? What could he do now? He couldn’t just leave. And this might have absolutely nothing to do with me. Maybe she just hates having to leave this place where she’s lived so long. He could understand that. Except for college, he’d never lived away from the farm he loved.
“Let’s just load up everything that will fit in my truck bed and your van and see how far we get.”
“Pretty far,” she muttered more to herself, he thought, than to him.
Jake soon found what she meant about not taking long to move. In the girls’ bright pink bedroom, he blinked to be sure his eyes weren’t failing him. Six neat boxes sat in the stripped, empty-looking room. Just six? “I’ll help you break down the beds,” he offered. “They should fit in my truck.”
“Great. The bunk beds are really the only furniture we’ll be taking.” Jeannie didn’t meet his eyes. “Everything else is built in or came with the mobile home.”
He nodded, thinking of the new Habitat house she’d need to furnish this spring. “Let’s move these boxes into the living room out of our way,” he said, “and then we can break down the beds quick.”
Soon they were dismantling the bunk beds and carrying the parts out to his truck bed. He finished up by carrying boxes to the truck and then Jeannie’s van. In just over an hour, the boxes had been deposited in the vehicles—with room to spare.
Jeannie wandered through the empty rooms and then joined him at the door. Sensing that she needed a private moment to say farewell to her longtime home, he excused himself. “I’ll head right to your new place.”
She gripped his arm as he opened the door. “Thanks. I know I’m acting a little weird. It’s just that…the girls were only babies when I moved here…” She looked like she wanted to say more, but fell silent.
Her touch gripped him, made him want to pull her into his arms. “No problem,” he said, letting her release his arm. He nodded, at a loss for words. Outside, he checked that the pickup doors and rear hatch were shut tight and then drove away. It didn’t seem right that a woman and two girls should only own enough to fill up a pickup and a van.