by Mary Leo
And before Chase could give his feelings for her another thought, RuthieAnn Dolan had fallen fast asleep.
CHASE AWOKE WITH a start, the familiar smell of antiseptic shading his dreams. He’d thought for sure someone had grabbed his shoulder, but when he opened his eyes, no one was there. He’d fallen asleep in the visitor’s chair inside Clark’s room the previous night, and now dawn cascaded in through the windows, giving everything an eerie glow. He pushed himself up in the chair adjusting to the stiffness in his legs, neck and arms from sleeping in what had to be an awkward position. All he remembered from the previous night, after he’d left RuthieAnn on the sofa in the waiting room, was walking into Clark’s room, and taking a seat next to his bed to make sure everything was good. He must have been dead tired to have fallen asleep so hard for so many hours in what had to be the most uncomfortable chair ever designed.
He rubbed his stiff neck as he slowly stood and stretched. As if he didn’t have enough aches and pains already, he had to compound it all by falling asleep in a plastic chair, no less. His entire body ached.
Before he could work himself into a serious woe-is-me scenario, RuthieAnn walked in carrying two paper cups filled with what Chase hoped was coffee.
“Tell me that’s coffee,” he said, his voice rumbling deep in his chest.
“It is. Black, but I brought cream and sugar if you need it.”
“Just cream,” he told her. “Do you know you just saved my life?”
“I try,” she said, handing him the coffee and a creamer. She nodded towards her dad. “How’s he doing this morning?”
“Unfortunately, I’m still breathing,” Clark mumbled. “I guess it’s harder to die when you’re a bastard. A good man would have been dead by now what with all I’ve got going on. Just goes to show ya, it’s harder to kill a fuckhead than a saint.”
“Even harder when you’re getting the best care your money can afford,” RuthieAnn said.
“Don’t you go fretting over how much this is costin,’ Clark countered. “There’s plenty for you and your brother, especially once you sell off the ranch.”
“First I’ll need to hire a HAZMAT unit to clean out the house,” RuthieAnn told him. “It’s a health hazard. How did you ever live there?”
Clark powered his bed up to get a better look at Ruthie. “Didn’t. Not much anyway. Spent most of my nights over the tavern. Sweet Sally didn’t want me ending up like your mom, so she put me up more times than I went home. Gave me the freedom to drink all I wanted. That sweet Sally is a real doll.”
“Yeah, she deserves a medal for taking such good care of you,” RuthieAnn said, her voice filled with sarcasm.
Chase could tell this conversation was going nowhere and would end up with RuthieAnn storming out of his room again. He wanted to avoid that.
“Your land might be worth a lot of money, Clark. Is your paperwork all in order?”
“If you mean, do I have a will? Yeah. Two pages. Your brother’s girl has it, Avery Templeton. Sweet Sally brought her over one night, and I filled out a form. Just talk to her once I croak.”
Avery had set up shop in town, and from what Chase had heard, she was building up quite a business, mostly from landowners trying to get their land back after being swindled by Chuck Starr. Chase had to hand it to her, she was doing a damn good job for this community, despite her having started out on the opposing team.
“Don’t talk like that, Clark,” Chase told him, not wanting to hear Clark’s negativity this morning.
“Why? It’s what my kids are waiting for, and I gotta say, I don’t blame ’em one bit. Growing up the way they did, with me and Evelyn for parents, the land is about the only good thing we can give ’em.”
“I don’t want it,” RuthieAnn said. “Never did.”
“Then sell the damn thing,” Clark told her. “I never wanted it in the first place. It was your mother’s idea. Get rid of it. Tear it all down, for all I care.”
“I intend to do just that.”
“Then you’ve made your old man happy. Plus, I got one more thing you need to have.”
“Whatever it is, I don’t want it,” RuthieAnn told him, crossing her arms across her chest.
Chase hated to see all the bickering, especially now when Clark was so sick. It broke his heart.
“Once you see it, you will.” He looked up at Chase. “Grab that plastic bag over there with my clothes, would ya?”
Chase did as he was told.
“Now, dig inside there until you find a chain with a key hanging on the end.”
Again, Chase did what he was told, this time pulling out the clothes that were rolled up in a ball and tossing them on the bed near Clark’s feet. The clothes reeked of stale liquor and body odor. It was so bad, Chase had to turn away from the open bag for a moment. “Man, do you ever wash these things?”
“Not if I can help it,” Clark joked. “Smells like perfume to me.”
RuthieAnn held her fingers under her nose. “They stink, Dad.”
Clark chuckled. “Helps keep my enemies away.”
“Is this it?” Chase said holding up a long silver chain that was obviously from around Clark’s neck, with a small key attached like a pendant.
“Yeah. That’s it. You can throw everything else in the garbage. Won’t be needing any of that shit.”
Chase handed the necklace to RuthieAnn, then he pulled out Clark’s tattered black wallet from the plastic bag. “You might want to keep this.”
The wallet fell open in Chase’s hands. He couldn’t help but notice the fading picture of a smiling family hidden under cracked and dirty plastic.
“Why?”
“It’s your wallet.”
Chase flashed the photo in RuthieAnn’s direction. The smiling family stood in front of a sweet little white house with shutters and flower boxes on every window. “That’s me when I was five years old, Jayden’s age. And that’s my brother, Kevin and our mom.” She reached for Clark’s wallet to get a better look. “You carried a picture of us in your wallet?”
“You’re mother stuck that in there and I just never took it out. Didn’t mean anything. It was just there,” Clark argued, trying to sound cold and callused, but Chase had a sneaking feeling that the picture meant more to Clark than he was willing to let on.
“I’ve never seen this picture before.” RuthieAnn studied it for a moment. “Kevin can’t be more than a few months old. Mom looks beautiful and happy. I don’t remember her ever being this happy. You even look happy,” she told Clark.
“I had my moments,” Clark said. “But they were short-lived.”
“Where were we? I don’t recognize the house.”
Clark chuckled. “It’s our house. The house you grew up in.”
“No, it’s not. It’s too pretty to be ours.”
RuthieAnn slipped the photo out of Clark’s wallet, glanced at it for a few seconds, then handed it to Chase. The colors were much more vibrant now, especially the red and pink geraniums that adorned the window boxes on each window of the house in the background, the perfectly cared for single-story house in the background, painted a sparkling white with sky blue trim, a wrap around porch and blooming flowers everywhere. Deep, rich grass surrounded the house, with a red brick walkway that led up to the front steps. The photo appeared as though it had been staged depicting the perfect American family.
But that was back then. That family no longer existed . . . if it ever had.
Chase handed the photo back to Ruthie. “Clark, you old bastard. You were a real heartthrob back then. And Evelyn was beautiful . . . just like her daughter. There’s a lot of resemblance there. And that house looks like something out of a happy fairytale.”
“I don’t even recognize it,” RuthieAnn said.
“That’s because you forgot what it used to look like. Your mom took care of that place like it was the most precious thing she ever owned. Wouldn’t leave the place to drive into town unless everything was perfect inside and out. Clea
ned it every day, and cared for the land right around it like she was getting it ready to be on the cover of one of them fancy magazines or something. She loved that house like it was one of her own kids.”
RuthieAnn’s face suddenly lit up. “I remember when she planted those flowers in the boxes. I helped. I wanted one box to be all pink geraniums, but she thought we should put both colors in the box. In the end, we compromised and made the two boxes on either side of the front door all pink and the rest of them mixed. I’d forgotten all about that day and how much fun we had together.”
“You loved anything pink when you was a girl. It was your favorite color. Still was when you left home with that devil.”
“I’m a different person now. All that girly stuff isn’t part of my life.” She slipped the picture back inside the wallet and tossed it into the plastic bag with the rest of Clark’s things.
“Aren’t you going to keep the picture?” Chase asked, hardly able to believe she would toss evidence that she once belonged to a happy family.
“If Clark doesn’t want it, why should I? Those days are long gone, just like that house is long gone. I intend to tear it all down along with the memories that go with it.”
“That’s the girl I know . . . coldhearted, exactly like her old man!”
“I’m not anything like you, Dad. Nor am I like Mom. I’m my own person.”
“You’re more like your mom than you think. Where’s Lucky? Is he here with you waiting to grab all the money? Once he gets his hands on it, he’ll toss you away like yesterday’s garbage and leave. Hell, I’d be surprised to hear that he’s still with you. Those types don’t usually hang around too long unless there’s something in it for them, and up until now, there probably wasn’t. He’s exactly the type your mom would choose . . . pure evil inside and out.”
“Did you say something about money, Clark? What money?”
“There is no money,” RuthieAnn said. “Only land money, and that’s questionable. Who knows what it’s worth? But you don’t have to worry about him taking anything from me. Gary or Lucky as you and everyone else liked to call him, is in jail, and I helped put him there a long time ago.”
Clark stared at his daughter for a moment. She’d turned away from him and gazed out the window. A wide grin stretched Clark’s lips and for a brief moment, Chase caught a glimpse of that happy dad from the picture. Clark’s joy seemed to resonate from somewhere deep within him, somewhere that had been buried by years of bitterness and alcoholism. He looked satisfied, as if he was proud of his daughter. Proud that she’d done the right thing by this Lucky dude. Chase had never heard of him, but hoped to learn more . . . if RuthieAnn was willing to tell him.
“That thing I told you yesterday about wanting your mom to abort you and Kevin? That wasn’t true. Both your mom and me couldn’t wait to have kids, but things didn’t turn out the way we thought they would, that’s for damn sure.”
RuthieAnn turned back around to face him.
Clark continued, “But don’t go thinking anything more about it. I just thought you should know, is all.”
“Thanks for telling me, Dad.”
“It don’t mean nothing, so don’t start thinking anything different about me. I’m still the same asshole I always was. Saying the truth once in a while don’t make me no saint, that’s for damn sure.”
“I didn’t say you were. You’re still a bastard. Nothing can ever change that.”
“That’s my girl,” Clark affirmed.
Chase could see that RuthieAnn struggled to hold back the smile that tickled her pretty lips.
“What’s the key for?” Chase asked, curious about why Clark would wear it around his neck.
“It’s nothing that concerns you,” Clark spit out, almost like a confrontation. “It’s between RuthieAnn and my lawyer.”
“Whoa, I didn’t mean anything by asking,” Chase said, trying to calm Clark, who suddenly seemed agitated. “I’m sorry. I was merely trying to help out.”
“RuthieAnn don’t need your help in this matter. I mean what I say. You stay away from this, Chase. It’s none of your damn . . .”
Then Clark started coughing again, only this time, it seemed worse . . . much worse. It was hard for him to catch his breath. Soon the alarm went off on his O 2 sat monitor. His heart monitor also went off as his pulse jumped way up into the high nineties. His nurse came in along with two other nurses.
It was time for Chase and RuthieAnn to once again leave his room.
Five
“Please don’t worry about Jayden,” Catherine told RuthieAnn as she sat across from Chase in the hospital cafeteria. This was the second phone call RuthieAnn had made to Catherine explaining what was going on and making doubly sure Catherine was still willing to look after Jayden. He could be a handful once he decided he didn’t like whatever might be happening around him. According to Catherine’s latest update, he seemed to be enjoying the dogs and the ranch chores so much that he hadn’t really noticed his mom wasn’t anywhere around.
But it was only noon. Anything could happen in the next few hours.
“I just want to make sure you’re all right with watching him. I can always pop back and take him to my friend Pearl’s house.”
RuthieAnn took a sip of her diet soda as she gazed over at Chase, who seemed to have devoured most of his burger in the short time that they’d sat down.
“We’re fine. Honest,” Catherine assured her once more. “Believe me, I would tell you if this wasn’t working. But he’s helped clean out the stalls this morning, and helped with the feed, and even helped me make our lunch. He’s been a real sweetheart. We’re eating almond butter and jelly sandwiches right now, with sprinkles, so no worries at all. You and Chase do what you need to do and please don’t give us another thought. It’s nice having a child around the ranch again. I miss that. Been way too long.”
RuthieAnn couldn’t imagine what it would be like to raise five children. She could barely keep one child in check let alone five. The more she thought about it, if ever there was someone who could handle Jayden, it was probably Catherine Cooper.
“Thank you so much,” RuthieAnn said, thinking how truly helpful Chase and his family had been. She hadn’t experienced much genuine kindness in Wild Creek while she’d been growing up. Most folks hadn’t wanted anything to do with the Dolan family. They’d been the outcasts, and if it hadn’t been for Pearl and her parents, RuthieAnn didn’t know if she would have made it through adolescence. As it was, RuthieAnn had resented most of the people in this town, and even now skepticism still ruled her emotions. Problem was, some of that distrust spilled over to Chase and his family, despite how kind they’d been to her. She couldn’t seem to fully absorb their downright gentleness. It just didn’t seem feasible that people like the Coopers had been living in Wild Creek all along and she hadn’t known it.
Still, she couldn’t help wonder what might be lurking under the surface of the Cooper clan if her dad was so adamant about Chase steering clear from whatever that key opened. That whole episode had baffled her.
“Not a problem,” Catherine confirmed once again.
“I’ll call you in a couple hours with an update.”
“That’s fine,” Catherine said, her mellow voice reassuring any doubts that RuthieAnn might be having. “No rush.”
“You’re the best,” RuthieAnn told her. “Thanks again.” Then they disconnected.
“He’s in good hands,” Chase told her after he chewed and swallowed the last big bite of his burger. RuthieAnn still hadn’t touched her own food that now turned her stomach just gazing at it. She didn’t know why she even ordered anything. She wasn’t the least bit hungry, and the thought of food made her nauseous.
“I’m not really worried about Jayden. I have total confidence in your mom’s ability to watch him. It’s your mom that I’m worried about. Jayden has the attention span of a flea. He needs a lot of stimulation or he starts to fuss, and once he starts to fuss, there’s really no
stopping him. He’ll throw a tantrum the likes of which I’m sure your mom has never seen before.”
“She raised four boys. I think she’s seen a tantrum or two in her life. Draven, my youngest brother, would throw himself down on the ground and scream like a banshee. It didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing. If he wanted something and he couldn’t have it, his demon side would show up and there was nothing anybody could do but wait it out. Then there was Hunter who would cross his arms over his chest in protest, cross his legs, sit down and not budge. Nothing could move him, not even my dad using his most stern voice. Shall I go on?”
RuthieAnn had to admit she didn’t come close to the challenges Catherine must have faced. In thinking about it now, she didn’t know how the woman survived it. RuthieAnn couldn’t begin to imagine what that must have been like.
“And what about you? I’m sure you were no angel.”
He sucked down some of his soda, then he said, grinning, “I liked to spit.”
“Spit?”
“Yeah, at anything and anyone.”
“I take it all back,” RuthieAnn told him, trying to picture Chase as a miniature cowboy spitting at his siblings, his parents. “I can barely handle one son, let alone four. I can’t even imagine what that might have been like.”
RuthieAnn suddenly felt a pang of hunger so she squirted ketchup on her burger, placed the soft bun on top, pressed it down and sliced the messy creation in half. Then she picked up a half and took a bite, releasing the flavors of the melted cheese, the spicy ketchup and the cooked beef. Either the line cook was better than she’d thought or she was much hungrier than she realized because the burger had to be one of the best she’d had in some time.
“We were young hooligans in boots, that’s for dang sure. Even my sister was hard to control. Most of the time she would be the one who instigated our bad behavior, then all hell would break loose and our dad would have to take charge. Once he stepped into the arena, we’d mostly back down. Don’t know what might have happened to all of us if it wasn’t for his strict rules. Mom raised us with a carrot, always offering up fun stuff if we did as we were told. Dad was the exact opposite. He preferred the stick. He didn’t take a switch to us very often, if at all really, but the possibility was always there and that was enough to keep us in check. What about Clark? Was he strict?”