“Jen should probably wait until we get to the hospital before she tells me to relax.” Deep lines bracketed her mouth. Melanie pointed across the room. “See? She’s telling the hospital to get ready. Now, do you suppose you can get a glass of water for me?”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than the boy shot off for the kitchen. Melanie scrunched up her face and let out a hiss sounding like the rocker atop a pressure cooker. After taking a couple of quick breaths, she swallowed and glanced toward the kitchen. “Good thing Jason took off,” she said, her hand inching up to rub her belly. “I didn’t know if I could hold back that contraction any longer. I don’t think a ten-year-old boy needs all the details of labor.”
“Men need as few details as possible unless it’s their prize cow delivering breech.” Grace moved her thumbs into the ball of Melanie’s foot earning her a grateful moan.
As Grace’s capable hands worked distracting the anxious mom, Rachel groped for something useful to do. Helplessness engulfed her on so many levels, she didn’t know which way to turn. Nothing about today had gone right.
She stepped past Grace and took the spot recently vacated by Jason as Melanie hissed through another contraction. She grabbed Melanie’s hand and began to rub. “Everything will be fine.”
Melanie seemed to deflate after the contraction. She peeked at Rachel, her hand flexing against the soothing rub. “That feels good. Thanks, Rachel. Glad Nick brought you home with him. You’re good for him, but right now, you’re way better for me.”
Rachel wanted to laugh but worried she’d melt into tears. She’d been so good for Nick that he’d just given her the brush off. “Just tell me what muscles need a good kneading.”
“The hospital is on alert for you, Mel,” Jennifer called from the kitchen as she hung up the phone. She crossed the room with Zac at her side. “Emergency is ready for you; we just have to get you to town. The helicopter is grounded.”
Jason came running up with a glass of water. “Here, Mom.”
Melanie pushed herself up until she sat straight on the couch. “Thanks, honey.” She took a drink, her eyes on Jennifer. “No biggie. I never liked flying anyway.”
Booted feet stomped into the kitchen as Martin, Gabe and Nick blew in with a gust. Not bothering to brush off his jacket, Gabe crossed over to Melanie in long strides. “Sorry, we took so long. Had a problem moving the blade and getting the chains on, but Dad gave it a good kick and there you go. We’ve got transportation.”
“Is the truck warmed up?”
Gabe grinned. “The truck is warming up and so is the Deere. Nick’s going to plow ahead of us in the tractor and we’ll follow.”
“Tractor? It doesn’t go fast enough.”
“It’ll move snow, that’s all that matters.” Gabe reached down and scooped up his wife. “We’ll be going nowhere fast if we get stuck in a drift. Hopefully, the county has the highway plowed.”
“The roads are clear and the hospital is expecting us.” Jen focused on Melanie. “My dad’s on duty. You’ll have the best care.”
“Fine.” She extended her hand to Gabe. “Let’s go before the girls get tired of waiting.”
Rachel counted nine people. Even in the Suburban, seven people including a pregnant Melanie was cutting it cozy. She didn’t want to, but would offer to stay home if needed. “Will there be enough room?”
Standing, Melanie rubbed her lower back. Gabe had his arm wrapped around her as he indicated Jason go get his mother’s bag. He offered Rachel a hand up. “You and Nick in the tractor and the rest of us will follow. Plenty of room.”
Her mouth went dry as her gaze shot to Nick in time to see his jaw clench as he shrugged out of his wet jacket. Alone? With him? The mile drive from the house to the highway loomed before her like a slow-motion free-fall. She’d made a fool of herself to him, and probably just lost her job. Now was not the time for close contact in a tractor cab. “I really don’t think—”
She didn’t have time to finish her protest before Grace ushered her toward the kitchen where Martin stood by the door, his arms loaded with dry jackets.
“This snow is so heavy, it doesn’t take long for everything to get soaked. We want the Suburban good and warm before we move Melanie, so go ahead and start plowing.” Grace held open a down jacket for Rachel to slip into. “Not to worry. Nick’s been driving the old Deere since he was big enough to reach the pedals. You’re in good hands.”
His ability to drive the tractor no matter the weather was not the issue. Rachel grabbed her purse just as Nick grabbed her hand and pulled her through the door and into the blizzard once again.
* * *
The rumble of the diesel engine filled the cab as Nick shift gear into low and plowed along the drifted road. The trees served as markers, but even then, he clipped a rock from time to time. Rachel sat beside him, her lips pressed together creating a tight seam. He hadn’t wanted to leave things the way they had in the barn. He did have feelings for her and for once in his life, he wanted an adult conversation about them.
“Are you okay?”
“Sure.”
That didn’t get him anywhere. He wished they were back at the house sitting in front of the fire and hashing things out instead of plowing a path so his very pregnant sister-in-law could get to the hospital. He shook his head. Melanie wasn’t his problem; Rachel was. “Rachel,” he coaxed. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She sat silent a moment longer. “Just a misunderstanding at work.”
“A misunderstanding?”
He heard the slightest sniff before she drew a ragged breath. “To some people, I guess.”
“And to you?”
Cheek propped on her knuckles, she turned toward the window, her breath causing a cloud of fog on the glass as the tractor rumbled along. “Stop being so nice. I don’t like you this way.”
“What way? Rachel, we’ve traveled lots of miles together. We’re at least friends by now, aren’t we? Wouldn’t you tell a friend and let them commiserate with you?”
The blade scraped snow to the side of the road as flakes blew all around them creating an intimate bubble in the middle of a storm. Coupled with the chug of the diesel engine, the sway of the cab lulled an odd sense of calm. . .until Rachel swung around, the slight tremor he’d detected earlier now morphed into ragged sobs.
“I’ve lost it all. . .hours of work. . .years of my life. . .gone.” She hiccupped and ground the heels of her palms into her eyes. “I’m just a little late getting back. . .and Jim Allen gets it all!”
The thought of this Jim-guy getting anything that belonged to Rachel kindled anger in Nick’s heart. No one took anything from someone Nick cared about. Just as soon as the thought crossed his mind, his anger stalled out with understanding. He cared. He shook his head, but the truth remained. He cared about Rachel Hill no matter how she felt about him.
He gripped the steering wheel to keep the tractor on the path. “What did Jim get, Rachel?”
She sat back as she gripped her hands together and rubbed her thumb over her knuckles. Just when he thought she wouldn’t answer, she turned revealing tear smudges down her cheeks. “He got my client base, Nick. Everything I’ve worked for has been handed to Jim Allen in the form of a set of keys to my office.” The flat of her palm slapped her armrest. “He even got my assistant.”
Emotions swarmed through his mind not the least being guilt for his role in this tragedy. He’d given her guff over her job and the stress it caused her practically the entire trip. He’d jumped at the chance to ridicule her every step of their journey, never once considering the sacrifice she’d made for him, a total stranger. Never once telling her how much he appreciated her efforts.
“Forget it, Nick. It’s no one fault but my own.” Rachel turned back to the window.
She could have - no, change that - she should have dumped him off days ago. He hated to admit it, but if she hadn’t run roughshod through his life over the past week no telling where he would have w
ound up. “That may have been how it started, but you went above and beyond what you needed to do.”
She shrugged.
It was time he said what needed to be said, no matter the cost. “Rachel, thank you for all you’ve done for me. You stood up to me, you bullied me, you even kidnaped me, all for my own good.”
She stopped twisting her fingers.
The edge of the blade nicked an ice drift along the side the road. Turning the steering wheel, he guided the tractor back on course. The compound low gear kept the tractor chugging forward without much attention from him.
“You told me what I didn’t want to hear. You cared enough to do that for me, a perfect stranger.”
She fished around in the pocket of the jacket and pulled out a tissue. After blotting her eyes, she twisted the tissue between her fingers. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not perfect.”
Bingo! He didn’t care what kind of response she’d give him, he just wanted a response. That she quipped her response at his expense gave him hope. “Do you remember preaching to me about the whole closed door, open window scenario?”
Nick marveled at the ease of his thoughts, and the peace of patience that surrounded him. He’d slipped up earlier in the day by declaring his feelings. But now that he had his heart under control, he could deal with Rachel without emotions getting in the way.
“I thought I had it all worked out, Nick,” Rachel began in a small voice. “I thought I’d isolated the problem areas in my life and had a plan to fix them.” She shifted and gave him a sideways glance. “Besides, I don’t preach.”
“Right, no preaching. Whatever you say.” Nick locked his fingers on the steering wheel and frowned at the white out surrounding them. “For someone who just spent the last four days talking of faith, it doesn’t appear letting go is as easy as it sounds.” He waited for her protest, for his bit of insight to ignite her internal combustion. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her looking around the cab and then shaking her head as if such little effort could refute his statement.
“You don’t understand, Nick. Financial planning is all I know. It’s taken me years to build a clientele who trust my judgments, who recommend me to their family, friends, and acquaintances. I’ve done well, too. My clients enjoy generous returns and long term security." She angled her chin and stared at him. "Is that such a bad aspiration?”
“What if God has something else for you to do? Say, something less demanding?”
Rachel turned away and locked arms around her knees. “But I’ve learned to manage my stress by turning to Him. That’s why I took the extra time off, to make sure I understood God’s plans for me. I realize I’ve been splitting my pie all wrong. My career enabled me to enjoy life as I pleased. What I didn’t comprehend was the subtle shift from the master of my time to slave. I’d forgotten to honor God first in all I do, but I’m ready to serve Him." She sat up and waved her hands. "Now, I have a plan of action.”
Her simple movement released a drift of her familiar scent. He inhaled, wanting to close his eyes and relish the fruity fragrance instilled in his senses. Instead, he kept his eyes on the road and stole a quick glance at her. “God’s plans, or Rachel’s plans?”
Rachel caught his gaze as she blew out a breath. “Hopefully, they’re one in the same.”
“Be sure you know the difference, or you’ll end up in a heap of trouble.”
A hint of a smile finally pulled at her mouth. “Funny talk coming from a man who doesn’t believe in God anymore.”
“I never said I didn’t believe. I said I needed to start paying attention to my life choices and not relying on Divine guidance to do it all for me. Sort of like forging the path and trusting God will keep me on it.”
“But what if the path you’ve chosen isn’t His choice?”
“Then I guess He’ll just have to tell me.”
* * *
She couldn’t turn away from his penetrating gaze. Suddenly, she sensed them back at a point in their relationship somewhere between her dragging him home to his family and him taking her to his house where he confronted his difficult memories. And kissed.
She’d never forget those kisses.
But what did it matter if he kissed like a dream only to leave her at the first opportunity to feed his soul-deep drive for competition with which she couldn’t compete?
Hence, in her sphere of life, one plus one equaled a big fat zero.
“How much longer are you going to ride, Nick?” Her face burned as the words poured out of her mouth. The question had bounced around in her head since the day she’d met him, never intending to actually give it voice.
They passed through a sheltered portion of road. Nick shifted the tractor and gave it more gas. Snow-laden pines clipped along as they picked up speed.
“I’m done.”
A twitter in her stomach distracted her from the plowing mission they’d been assigned. Snow drifts, biting winds, swaying trees all faded to nothing as his words rang through her head. I’m done.
She stared at his chiseled profile, noting the bruises had faded to light yellow. They’d had some pretty deep discussions over the past week and she didn’t even know what he looked like completely healed. She knew he preferred to fish for bass over walleye, he had an affinity for classic country music, and a burning desire to drive down highways at double the maximum speed. So what did he look like in his starched shirt and crisp jeans ready to take on the town?
She dragged her gaze to his more than capable hands as he grasped the knob and downshifted again. “What do you mean by that?”
“It means I’m done with rodeo and ready to get on with life.”
“Just like that?” Irritation replaced the wonder and curiosity of moments earlier. “You’ve qualified for the National Finals Rodeo and you’re going to pass that up? I know bull riders, Nick. No bull rider would do that.”
The muscles in his jaw worked as his fingers clasped and unclasped the steering wheel. “Well, you’ve just met one. I got what I wanted out of rodeo. I don’t need any more.”
A lump rose in her throat. “What don’t you need anymore?”
As he turned her way for just a moment, Rachel saw the answer in his eyes. He turned back before she could blink, but in that split second, she recognized the truth. Peace.
“I…” --he rolled his eyes toward the sky-- “don’t need…” He focused back on the road, his brows drawn beneath his hat. “I’m just done with it.”
She understood the difficulty of putting feelings to words. Hadn’t she kept all her anxiety deep inside for years? Sharing that most precious insight into your soul was never easy.
But maybe someday, it would be.
She reached out and covered his hand where he gripped the stick shift. The rough skin of his knuckles cooled her warm palm. She rubbed lightly, desperate for the connection they’d once shared. “Glad to hear it.”
“Don’t leave.” He pressed his firm lips together. “Stay for a while.”
It wasn’t like she had any pressing appointments to keep anymore. “I think I’d like that.”
Just as she relaxed back into her seat, the blast of a horn sounded from behind them. Rachel looked around and noticed the split rail fence line bordering the highway and the pine posts framing the ranch entrance. “They’ve caught up with us?”
“Perfect timing.” Pulling over to the side, Nick cut the engine of the tractor. He leaned over and helped her across the seat, stealing a kiss along the way. “Sorry, I should have asked. Is it okay if I kiss you?”
The sparkle in his blue eyes made her smile wide. “I don’t mind at all.”
He grabbed another quick kiss. “Good.”
The hatch door of the Suburban popped open as the window on the passenger side lowered. “Get in the way back. There’s no more room up here,” Zac yelled.
“Thanks,” Nick mumbled before he swung her down from the tractor and tried to shield her from the wind as they reached the tailgate and
crawled in. Zac met them at the back and slammed the tailgate up and the hatch window down.
“Comfy back there?” Jennifer leaned over the seat and waved. “We’re packed tight as straw up here, too.”
Nick propped his back against the wall and looped his arm around her as Rachel shimmied her shoulder across his chest. The Suburban lunged onto the highway and picked up speed on the plowed road. “How in the world did you get seven people in this truck and still have room for us?”
“Pre-planned packing,” Melanie answered from the front. “No way were we leaving anyone behind.”
Rachel had been included in the count. A growing warmth spread from her cheeks to her toes. These people didn’t even know her, yet counted her as part of the family. At the moment she thought of family, Nick tightened his hold on her as if he’d read her mind.
His hat lost somewhere in the back of the Suburban revealed waves and curls awakened by the wet weather. He grinned at her and nodded toward the front of the vehicle. “This is why I’m not going back,” he whispered in her ear sending a tingle through her.
Rachel reached up and smoothed a patch of wavy blond hair from his face. She felt safe and cherished in his arms, a feeling she wanted to bask in forever. “Great reason.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Nick prayed the early snowstorm wasn't wrecking havoc with other pregnant ladies’ delivery timetables. He didn't think they could squeeze another anxious person into the Birthing Center waiting room. The Davidsons had moved in.
By the time they’d arrived at the hospital, a full maternity staff stood alerted. Melanie’s contractions had slowed but remained constant and the only smile she’d spared was for Jason who stood by his mother’s side, unwilling to let her out of his sight. Grace Davidson had led the boy to the couch and Jennifer sat beside them, answering questions about Melanie’s condition as quickly as Jason could spew them out. Gabe hadn’t asked permission to accompany his wife to her room and dared anyone tell him otherwise. Lucky for the staff, no one stood in his way.
Rough Road Home (The Circle D series) Page 19