The Cowboy Soldier

by Roz Denny Fox

  ALEXA GOT DIRECTIONS to Sierra’s home at the feed store where she bought supplies. The couple who owned the store had lived in the area for fifty years. They knew everyone for miles around and gave directions along the lines of “turn at the crossroad where you’ll see a green dairy barn on your left. Follow that road till you can’t go farther.”

  Like most homes in the area, the Martinez place sat at the end of a private gravel road. The compact single-story house was surrounded by undeveloped land dotted with mesquite, cottonwood and piñon trees. Alexa noticed the cottonwood had lost a majority of their bright yellow leaves, a sure sign that fall was giving way to winter.As she pulled up in front of the house, she saw Rafe seated on a porch swing. Her pulse gave a happy kick and she scrambled out of her pickup. Holding onto Compadre’s collar, she approached the wide porch, painted gray to match the house. But when she tried to speak, her voice caught in her throat.

  Rafe stood up, obviously having heard the vehicle. Wood chips fluttered around his feet.

  He looked fantastic in tight black jeans and a pale blue shirt that enhanced his naturally bronze skin tones. Belatedly, Alexa recognized he’d been whittling.

  “Alexa?” He must have recognized her step moments before Compadre yipped excitedly and nearly bowled him over. His knife fell to the porch with a clunk. The dog head-butted Rafe’s thigh, then scurried off to investigate the shiny object.

  “It is me,” Alexa said. “Compadre gave us away.” She knelt and scooped up Rafe’s knife. Fighting a desire to throw her arms around him in greeting, she straightened. “Here’s your knife. I wasn’t aware you were a wood-carver.”

  “What are you doing here?” he exclaimed. “Uh, not that I’m not glad. I am.” He cleared his throat. “I fool around with carving. You caught me trying to whittle a reasonable facsimile of Dog. I’d planned to give it to you as soon as I talked Doug into driving me out to your ranch.” Rafe extended a rough-hewn collie carved from a grainy wood. With the multicolored striations of the wood, the statue looked remarkably like Compadre.

  Alexa ran a finger along the carving, but her hand collided with Rafe’s and she snatched it back. “It’s a fine likeness, Rafe. Really good.”

  He shrugged. “I used to carve to calm my nerves between rides at rodeos. I quit carving in boot camp. There was never time. I took it up again in Iraq while we waited to go out on missions. I made whistles and toys for local kids. I guess I’m at loose ends again. Sierra pitches a fit about my carving. She’s positive I’m going to miss with the knife and cut an artery.”

  “Speaking of Sierra, I don’t see her van. Or any vehicles. Are you here on your own?”

  “She and the kids went to town for groceries. They always make a day of it. She’ll pick up Curt and Chloe from school before coming home. Hey, come share my swing and tell me what brings you out this way.”

  “I’ll, uh, take this chair. After you left, Rafe, I stewed over letting you go without my version of what happened in Houston. With my holistic practice,” she added, setting her purse down and perching gingerly on a weathered deck chair. “It’s probably not important to you, but I’d like to set the record straight.”

  Rafe felt for the swing cushion and sat back down. Compadre wagged his tail and crowded close. “Alexa, you don’t have to talk about it if it’s too painful.”

  “No, I want to. But it’s…harder than I imagined to speak about even after so much time.” She gulped down a shaky breath. “I…I was barely fourteen and Bobby Duval eighteen when we met. My dad hired him to be a general gofer in his office and the oil fields. If you ever saw any of the old James Dean films, that pretty much describes Bobby. Cool. Gutsy. He didn’t walk. He swaggered.”

  Rafe scooted Compadre aside and continued to put the finishing touches on his carving. The knife dug into the soft wood, forming curls in the dog’s coat. “James Dean, huh? I get the picture. You fell for each other right off.”

  “It wasn’t that way,” she said quickly. “I was an awkward overachiever, always out of place with my peers because teachers kept jumping me ahead in school. I hated that. Neither of my parents understood I only wanted to feel normal. I graduated from college at fifteen, Rafe. My mother and my teachers were investigating medical schools for me to attend, but none would waive the age requirement for entry. Somehow mother learned I could attend osteopathic college and live at home—she didn’t want me to give up my comfortable lifestyle for a college dorm.” Alexa laughed, but she knew it sounded strained. “Bobby had zero advantages. He barely squeaked through high school. But he was determined to learn every aspect of the oil business from my dad. He had big dreams, and he saw right through me. I can’t say why we hit it off. Bobby was a real diamond in the rough, but he just loved life and was so much fun to be around. I think he counted on me to hone his rough edges.”

  “I’d say you’re a natural.” Rafe shook off the last wood shavings from his shirt and jeans and closed his knife. He held the carving out for Alexa to take.

  “Rafe, this is fantastic.” She ran a finger over the smooth wood. “It looks just like Compadre, even though you’ve never seen him.”

  “Hands-on petting,” Rafe said, pocketing his knife. “Here’s where I should tell you I pumped Sierra until she told me you are a ringer for Cameron Diaz. I’m pretty sure I know what was on your Bobby Duval’s mind back then.”

  “You’re wrong. I was geeky. Still, my mother and father weren’t very happy about all the time Bobby and I spent together. They didn’t want me talking to him when he delivered messages from the field. Bobby found the whole thing amusing. He considered my mom uppity but he had a grudging respect for my dad. Even before I turned nineteen and set up my office, people assumed Bobby and I were lovers. Stop!” Instinctively Alexa held up a hand. “I can tell by your smirk you’re like everyone else. All Bobby and I had was a brief fling the summer I turned eighteen. And we both agreed it was a mistake.”

  Rafe snorted.

  “I swear—it amounted to nothing.”

  Rafe’s jaw flexed. Was he jealous? Alexa scooted closer and curved a hand over his rigid forearm. “I loved Bobby, but I wasn’t in love with him,” she stressed.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do. Our friendship was too important to both of us to risk a romantic relationship. Besides, Bobby liked being a player. He wasn’t about to commit to one woman. He was totally focused on being an oil tycoon like my dad. If he and I ever argued over anything it was that. My father was a driven man, and I knew Bobby wasn’t ruthless enough. But he didn’t listen. So he went from being Dad’s gofer to a fulltime roustabout against my advice. And Dad kept Bobby working more hours in the field so he had less time to hang out with me. That’s when I studied Chinese acupuncture.”

  Alexa blew out a breath. This was the part she didn’t like to remember. “For years Bobby nagged me to apply to medical school, so I finally relented. I was under consideration at two Texas universities, then on NewYear’s Eve, Bobby lost control of his Jeep during a storm. He hit a tree. A huge live oak.” Alexa’s voice cracked.

  Rafe stopped tugging the dog’s ears. “For cripe’s sake, why didn’t you tell Ms. Holmes she had her facts all wrong, that your friend died in a car wreck?”

  “She didn’t get it wrong,” Alexa said tightly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Bobby didn’t die in the accident, Rafe. He died from complications resulting from his injuries—after he signed himself out of the hospital and came to stay with me. I begged him to go back to the hospital when he took a downturn, but he refused.” Alexa couldn’t believe how painful the memories still were.

  “You should have hired a lawyer, Alexa.”

  “My dad did. A top attorney. But, the Duvals’ lawyer came and said I could settle instead.” Alexa closed her eyes, remembering. “I should have listened to my parents, but I just wanted it over. Bobby’s parents’ allegations were horrible. I thought settling would end it, but I was wrong. The media p
icked up the story. Reporters said I would’ve fought the case if I wasn’t guilty of incompetence. As a result, I lost patients. Both universities passed on my med school applications. Everybody thought my moving to the ranch was taking a coward’s way out…that running away suggested guilt. But…the ordeal hurt me. I…I wasn’t as immune to criticism as I thought.”

  Rafe knew Alexa would have done everything she could for her friend, including getting him to a hospital if he’d agreed. Now he understood better why she’d been so reluctant to take him on as a patient—and so upset when their relationship had heated up.

  Rafe could sympathize with Bobby. Like him, he had nothing to offer a woman like Alexa. Her folks wouldn’t like his background, either. They’d think a broken-down ex-cowboy, ex-soldier wasn’t good enough for their daughter. And maybe he wasn’t.

  Wheels spun inside Rafe’s head. He’d thought maybe together they could buy and train high-quality cutting horses. There used to be a demand for them all across Texas. But, could he ask her to take on a partner—in business and life—when he couldn’t even see?

  “God, Alexa,” was all he could manage to say.

  She frowned. “I know it’s bad, Rafe. But my dad said Bobby’s parents wanted to ruin me and bankrupt him.”

  Rafe just kept shaking his head, uncertain what to say. Alexa took his silence as criticism after she’d bared her soul to him.

  She shot out of the deck chair. “Thanks for the carving, Rafe. I’ll cherish it always. But…but I have to leave. Come, Compadre.”

  The dog licked Rafe’s hand and then followed Alexa down the porch steps.

  “Hey, wait,” Rafe said, stirring at last. The last thing he wanted was for Alexa to go. He felt for the porch railing and used it to guide him to the steps. “Don’t rush off. Stick around. In fact, stay for supper. Sierra will get after me if I let you take off before she gets home.”

  “Baloney! I know for a fact your sister was anything but happy about asking me to take your case.”

  “We had a talk about that,” Rafe said. “Sierra finds it hard to stop playing big sister and mother all rolled into one. I told her I was absolutely certain Ms. Holmes didn’t have her facts straight about you.”

  “You said that?” Alexa didn’t sound completely convinced. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Rafe. But Bobby did die on my watch. Oh, I know I did nothing to contribute to his death, but I should never have let him wheedle me into taking his case. Bobby was like family to me. I’ll feel guilty about that forever.”

  Rafe knew all about guilt. It was a subject he’d rather not examine. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” he settled on saying.

  “I suppose. But knowing I can’t change the past doesn’t seem to help me quit blaming myself.”

  Blame? Oh, boy. There was enough of that to go around. Rafe leaned on the railing and wiped his sweaty palms down his jeans.

  “Rafe, are you okay? You seem a bit, I don’t know, rocky.”

  “I’m okay. What time is it?”

  “Twenty past twelve. Can I fix you a sandwich?” Alexa offered.

  “If you’ll drive us to town, I’ll buy you lunch.”

  “I’d like that, but remember I have Compadre. I can’t leave him here.” At least her voice sounded brighter.

  “Okay, so that means we can’t go to Cibolo Creek guest ranch. It’s the nicest place around.”

  “I don’t need anyplace fancy.”

  “I know but I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

  She laughed. “I appreciate the thought, but I came straight from doing chores, Rafe. I’m wearing really holey jeans.”

  “Okay, so let’s grab tacos in town. Then we can walk around.”

  “My pickup is parked right in front of the bottom step.”

  After Rafe locked up, they headed toward her truck. Alexa opened the door for Compadre to hop in first, then Rafe.

  “I have the passenger window down,” she said. “You know Compadre likes to poke his nose out. If he makes a nuisance of himself, I’ll stop and tighten his doggie seat belt so he stays between us.”

  “You have a dog seat belt? I don’t think I realized that when we drove to Study Butte.”

  “I’m a stickler. Bobby wasn’t wearing his the night his Jeep hit the tree. Had he been belted in, the emergency team said his injuries wouldn’t have been so bad. Now, do I turn right at the end of the lane?”

  “Right…yes. Then at the first crossroad you’ll turn onto highway 170.”

  “One-seventy follows the Rio Grande.”

  “We’re not going that far,” Rafe told her. “Lajitas is between Big Bend Park and the river. It’s your typical border town. On the Mexico side is Paso Lajitas. Both towns once thrived on park visitors, then someone decided to close the airport and then closed down the border crossing. It’s still heavily patrolled, but both towns went stagnant.”

  “What a shame.”

  Compadre settled his feet on Rafe’s right leg and leaned out the passenger window.

  “Lajitas started as an Army outpost when Pancho Villa was terrorizing the area,” Rafe informed Alexa as she made the turn.

  “Well, that’s some claim to fame.”

  Rafe smiled. “I grew up on stories about Villa’s raids. I always thought I’d have loved living in the west when it was woolly and untamed.”

  It was a moment before Alexa replied, and Rafe could almost feel her assessing him. “I can see you riding these desolate canyons hunting stray longhorns, Rafe.”

  “You can’t see me riding with Pancho Villa’s raiders?”

  “Frankly, no. You’d more likely be standing with villagers, helping barricade the town against the bad guys.”

  Rafe knew his laughter had a darker side. “Most people around Terlingua would have seen me as one of the bad guys—a mixed-race kid. White ranchers in the area sure didn’t want me dating their daughters.”

  “I know racism is worse in small towns. Especially border towns.”

  “Oh, yeah. Cattlemen have never liked sheep or sheepherders to begin with. History books won’t tell you that, but it’s because Mexicans and Indians introduced the sheep into south Texas. Ask any old-timer around. They’re blunt about it.”

  “I hope times are changing for the better, Rafe.”

  “Me, too,” he muttered, his mind flipping back to her parents.

  Alexa suddenly let up on the gas. “Oh, we’re here. The town is quaint, Rafe. I love the old frontier-type buildings.”

  “All built for tourists. You can park at this end and we can walk through town to reach Connie and Hector’s shop. Or you can drive through town.”

  “I see a spot. Let’s park here and walk.”

  They got out with Compadre and meandered down an uneven plank sidewalk. When Rafe tripped for about the third time, Alexa asked, “Did the military give you a prescription for a white cane, Rafe? It would help you get around better in unfamiliar places.”

  “No cane,” he snapped. “I don’t want people’s pity, Alexa.”

  He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but Alexa said nothing. A minute later, though, he felt her slip her arm through his.

  “I know you’re starving, Rafe, but slow down,” she said.

  “You don’t have to baby me, Alexa. You know I can manage.”

  At his words Alexa loosened her grip a bit and he lengthened his stride.

  Compadre sidled up to Rafe and he realized the dog was doing his best to keep Rafe from stumbling over the side of the raised walkway.

  “I see the taco sign straight ahead,” Alexa said.

  Rafe dropped his arm and took her hand. “There are tables out front, and more on the side, under shade trees. If any of them are empty, let’s sit there.”

  Hector and Connie were doing the cooking and serving as usual. “Hey,” they both greeted him. “How’s it going, Rafe?”

  “It’s going good,” Rafe answered. “We’ll take four courageous tacos, Connie. What would you like to drink?” Rafe t
urned to Alexa.

  “I’m afraid to ask what a courageous taco is,” she said in a low voice.

  “Oh, everyone calls them that because Hector fills his tortillas too full, and you have to be courageous to eat one in public.”

  “Okay. I’m game. I’ll take bottled water to drink. I’d also like a plain hamburger, a cooked patty if possible. For the dog.”

  “Sierra was here half an hour ago,” Hector said. “She and the younger twins. Didn’t say a word about you being in town, Rafe.”

  “Sierra doesn’t know. Hector, Connie, this is Alexa Rob…uh, Dr. Robinson. She treated me, and dropped in for a visit after Sierra had already left.”

  “A doctor?” Connie sounded envious. Rafe could hear her ringing up the tacos her husband would have wrapped. “Are you thinking of moving here? We have a midwife, but that’s the extent of our community medical care. For real doctoring it takes a full day to drive round-trip to Alpine. Lord help us if there’s any kind of an emergency.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alexa murmured. “I’m not an MD, and I’m just visiting.”

  Rafe felt her fingers tighten on his arm. He sensed Connie’s query had made Alexa uncomfortable. After he paid the bill, she led them to a table. “Are you mad at me for saying you’re a doctor?” he asked.

  “Not mad, Rafe. I worry someone will recognize my name and connect me to those old Houston news stories.”

  “You’re being a little paranoid, don’t you think? Hardworking folks around here don’t have time to focus much on outside news. And didn’t it happen a while ago?”

  “Um, five years ago. The story and my picture were plastered in every paper and on TV for months. And, well, you didn’t see your friend’s curious expression.”

  Rafe decided to lighten the mood. “Pretty blondes aren’t the norm in Lajitas. I thought if I told them you’re my doctor, it’d quell rumors I kidnapped you.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Aha! I’m sure I warned you about my bad-boy reputation.”

  Alexa laughed. “Now you’re bragging.”

  Rafe asked her about Esperanza and how her menagerie was faring. More than once it was on the tip of his tongue to admit he wanted to return to her ranch. But he couldn’t seem to find the right opening. But then, he also needed to get his ducks in a row.