Complicated Matters

by Unknown

  “Eight minutes,” Jordan answered through labored breaths.

  She handed the scissors to Ted. “Take these scissors to the kitchen and soak them in alcohol. You’ll find it in the cabinet above the sink.”

  He stared at the scissors. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  “Do I have a choice?” she huffed. “Grow up, and pull yourself together.”

  “Mr. Watkins, put some warm water in a big bowl and bring it back here.”

  The men left the room, and Farrah made Mrs. Watkins as comfortable as possible. “Okay Mrs. Watkins, here we go. Just do what comes naturally.” Farrah stood at the end of the bed with a towel.

  “Have you ever delivered a baby before?” Mrs. Watkins asked in between bouts with labor pains.

  “You really don’t want me to answer that.” She removed the woman’s panties. “Come on, Mrs. Watkins. Stay strong.”

  “You’re looking at what no other woman has ever seen before. I think it’s time you call me Jordan.”

  “A sense of humor.” Farrah’s voice cracked. “That’s a good thing at a time like this. Right?”

  The electricity went out.

  Great. Just what we need. “There’s a lantern on the kitchen table. Somebody bring it in here,” she ordered.

  Mr. Watkins sat the basin of warm water on the nightstand, then started back toward the kitchen. “I’ll get it.”

  “Ted, call nine-one-one on your cell. Tell them what’s happening and don’t forget to warn them about the bridge.”

  Farrah tried to see what was going on, but it was too dark. “I need that lamp in here, Tom.”

  Jordan’s husband finally returned with the lamp. The room filled with the dim glow.

  “Everything’s gonna be alright, Jordan.” Her words of encouragement were more a plead to God. “Come on now, you got this.”

  After a lot of pushing and screaming, came a flood rush of joyous tears as the youngest Watkins made her grand entrance into this world.

  “She’s beautiful.” Farrah cleaned the baby and wrapped her in a big, fluffy towel. “Time to meet Mama.” She laid the baby in Jordan’s arms. “Do you have a name picked out?”

  “We were going to call her Christine, but I think I’d like you to name her.” She looked up at her husband. “That is, if it’s alright with you, Tom.”

  Tom admired his new daughter. “If that’s what you really want.”

  Farrah watched the new family. “My mother’s name is Tara.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she smiled. “She died earlier this year.”

  “Tara Christine Watkins.” Jordan watched her baby as she said her name. “It’s beautiful.”

  The lights came back on.

  “See there?” Tom never took his eyes off his daughter. “She’s performin’ miracles already.”

  “Daddy, would you please take Tara into the other room, while we get things situated in here?” asked Farrah. “I think Mama could use a shower and some clean clothes.”

  “My suitcase is still in the truck,” said Jordan. “I don’t want Tom getting any wetter than he already is.”

  “I think I have some dry clothes for both of you. That is, if you don’t mind wearing my parents’ clothes.”

  The couple stared at each other.

  “Mom and Dad weren’t big on wasting.” She opened a sealed box and took out some jeans and a work shirt for Tom and her mom’s favorite cotton gown for Jordan. “They may not be a perfect fit, but they’ll do for tonight.” She placed the clothes in Tom Watkins’ arms. “If you can help Jordan, I’ll look after Tara. There’s clean sheets in the closet.”

  *

  Once the family settled in, Farrah grabbed a shower and collapsed on the couch. “Why don’t you take one of my brothers’ rooms for the night, Ted? I’ll wait on the rescue squad.”

  “What? And let you be the hero all by yourself?” He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I’m gonna sit right here with you.” Ted smiled and guided her head to his lap. “You really are a hero.” He brushed her hair back from her face.

  “I was just there to catch the baby.” Farrah closed her eyes. “Jordan Watkins did all the work.”

  He started playing with the straps on her top. “Well, you’re my hero.”

  She grabbed his hand and held in hers. “Is that all you ever think about?”

  “You’re going to find out exactly what’s on my mind after our guests leave.” He leaned down and kissed her shoulder.

  The animals went crazy when the rescue copter landed in Farrah’s yard.

  She opened the door for the rescue team.

  A man pulled a gurney into the house. “Is someone in need of assistance?”

  Ted pointed the way. “The family’s in there.”

  The rescue team stopped when they saw the family huddled together asleep on Farrah’s bed.

  “Mrs. Watkins, we’re here to take you to the hospital.” A member of the team said, as he pulled back the cover. “Congratulations, Mr. Watkins. It’s not every day a man gets to deliver his own daughter.”

  “And today isn’t one of them. The young lady handled everything.” He hugged Farrah. “You take care of yourself, and thanks again.”

  Once everyone was gone, Farrah locked the living room door.

  She turned around and came face-to-face with Ted’s bare chest.

  Before she could say anything, he started kissing her. “I believe we were discussing promises.”

  It felt as though his hands were touching every part of her body at once. She could feel her dress rising higher and higher. She pulled it back down. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.” She raced back to her room and locked the door. She flung herself on her bed and buried her head under her pillow. If Ted had anything to say, she didn’t want to hear it.

  Chapter 7

  Taylor lay on his couch getting ready for his favorite sleep aide when the laptop beeped. He raised the screen.

  “Taylor, where are you?”

  “At what passes for a home in this town. What can I do for you, Commander?”

  “You can get over to the Mathews’ place. Fugitive Daniels, escaped tonight.”

  Adrenaline shot through Taylor like a lightening bolt. “How in the hell did he do that?”

  “He was being transported from the courthouse to the prison when his transport was broadsided. During the commotion he killed two guards and escaped.”

  “I am asking you again, Commander. How did one man in chains overcome three armed guards and escape?”

  “That is still under investigation.”

  Taylor paced back and forth. “That’s unbelievable. Was the third guard at least able to say in which direction Daniels fled?”

  “The third guard isn’t up to answering questions. Your only priority is protecting the Mathews family. Now get your ass over there and don’t alarm them. Phillips out.”

  “Phillips out,” Taylor muttered. He shrugged on his uniform and donned his raincoat. The rain stung his face as it pelted him. He hated the rain. It reminded him of the night his wife died.

  Barely able to see the black-top road, he turned off the main road onto Old Rocky Ford Road. Flash. Something ran across the road, and then it was gone.

  “What the--” He skidded to a halt. The mixture of wet clay and dirt made walking tricky. Twice Taylor almost slipped before finding the problem. The bridge was gone.

  Taylor unfastened his gun strap and shined his flashlight where the bridge should have been. The supports revealed saw marks. He looked around. This was no accident.

  “Sheriff Taylor to dispatch.”

  “Whatcha need, Sheriff?”

  “I’m standing in front of the bridge on Old Rocky Ford Road. Send two deputies out here, and two more on the other end of the road. Tell them to maintain high visibility and check everyone who comes out here; license, registration, everything.”

  “What’s wrong, Sheriff? Did the bridge wash out?”

  “No it didn’t wash. The supports we
re cut. Get the Department of Transportation out here to fix this thing. Taylor out.”

  Deputies Jones and Edwards arrived shortly after Taylor called the dispatcher.

  “Beautiful night, Sheriff,” Jones laughed.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Taylor looked around. “I owe you big. Maintain high visibility.”

  Edwards looked at the creek. “What’s got ya spooked?”

  “Somebody sabotaged the bridge. Is there another way down this road?”

  “You can take the interstate to the other side,” Jones said. “It’ll take you about an hour.”

  “Not good enough.” Taylor jumped into the truck and started backing up.

  “That jalopy can’t swim, Sheriff,” Edwards laughed.

  “No. But maybe it can wade real fast.” Taylor backed the truck up until he had enough room. Then he floored the gas. It was full speed ahead. The truck sounded like it was about to fall apart as it hit the place where the bridge should have been. Mud and water spit everywhere. As his traction increased, his truck picked up speed. He hit the breaks, and the old truck fishtailed as it skidded to a halt. “Be careful, boys.”

  Taylor crept down the road, taking care to examine everything as best he could. Nothing seemed out of place as far as he could tell. Quit kidding yourself, Taylor. You don’t know a damn thing about the kind of farming that goes on up here. Why didn’t they give this assignment to someone qualified to do it?

  He crept his way to the Mathews’ house. A red Jeep was parked at front of the house, the tag read TDYBR. “Teddy Bear?” He shook his head, as he crossed the yard.

  He was about to knock, when he heard Old Teddy Bear trying to get into Farrah’s pants.

  “What’s gotten into you?” she screamed.

  Smart girl. Taylor smiled. You’re too good for anybody who’s dumb enough to call himself Teddy Bear.

  “I think I’ve been more than patient,” said a male voice.

  That must be him. “Good luck, old boy. It ain’t gonna happen, but good luck anyway.”

  Taylor concealed his truck in the tree line. From his vantage point he had a clear view of Farrah’s front porch. He scanned the landscape ever vigilant for the real reason he was in this God forsaken hellhole. He longed to get back to Miami. He missed visiting Lianna’s gravesite.

  Taylor tensed when he saw a man and a woman walk up Farrah’s front porch steps. The man was supporting the woman. They banged on the door a few times.

  Taylor started to go to them, but stopped when the girl met them at the door aiming a rifle. There was some talk, and the girl set the gun down, allowing them inside.

  Taylor took position under a window hoping no one would hear the rain splashing off his vinyl hat and raincoat. He could hear a lot of screaming and crying.

  Farrah seemed to be coaching whoever was in pain.

  He tried to keep up with what was going on.

  The lights went out. Minutes later, dim light appeared.

  Taylor smiled when he heard the unmistakable first cries of a newborn baby. Well, I’ll be damned. That’s the woman I want with me during an emergency. “Good girl,” he whispered as he made his way back to his truck.

  Soon the rescue copter flooded the yard with light and took the new family.

  In all the commotion, no one noticed him. He spent the night in his Bronco listening to Teddy Bear not taking no for an answer.

  As much as he wanted a reason to bounce the boy out of the house, he was relieved that he didn’t have to do it.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning was clear and perfect. The rage of the previous night was but a memory. The ground was wet and muddy in some areas, but the air felt clean and tasted fresh. Birds sang from hidden locations as squirrels scampered across the limbs of giant oak trees shaking leaves which caused water to fall in droplets.

  Taylor watched, undetected, as Farrah finished the morning chores and saddled a red horse with a white star in the center of it’s head.

  “Good morning, Sleepyhead.”

  Taylor watched her joke with the guy standing on the porch rubbing his eyes.

  “I was just about to ride Stoney around the fence line. I can put a saddle on Sandy, if you’re up for it.”

  “I thought Sandy was your mom’s horse.” The boy, probably Farrah’s age or a little older, scratched his head.

  “All the more reason to ride her.” Farrah tightened the cinch on Stoney’s saddle. “You game?”

  The guy turned to go back in the house. “I better call my parents and let them know I’m all right. You know how they worry about their youngest.”

  Farrah looked toward the ground. “That must be nice.”

  Taylor didn’t like the jerk. He decided to have a little fun. Besides, he felt sorry for hurting the girl. If she wanted that bozo to ride with her, Taylor thought the least he could do was change his mind. Nothing like a man paying attention to a woman to make another man realize what he stands to lose.

  “Is that an open invitation?” He walked across the yard from the direction of the driveway.

  “Good morning, Sheriff Taylor.” Farrah straightened her posture. “Are you worried I might contaminate your crime scene?”

  “Crime lab deemed it an accident.” He wanted to tell her the truth. His voice tone naturally dropped. He hoped she would take it as an apologetic tone. He was apologizing alright. Apologizing for putting her and the boys through this.

  When he saw the boy cold-staring him, he put a little pep in his step and a playful tone in his voice. “A morning ride with a pretty girl. Who could turn down a request like that?”

  The bozo stepped off the porch. “What are you doing all the way out here, Sheriff?”

  “The bridge is out, and I’ve been up all night making sure no one drove into the creek.” He kept walking toward Farrah and her horse. “Who are you?”

  “My name’s Ted Anderson. I was visiting my girlfriend when the storm hit.” He blocked Taylor’s path. “We spent the night together.”

  Farrah lowered her head.

  Taylor sidestepped Ted. He hated that the jerk could make her feel so low about doing nothing wrong. “That was charitable of her.”

  Farrah tethered her horse to the fence. “Would you like some fresh coffee, Sheriff Taylor?”

  “Don’t bother, but thanks anyway.” Taylor nodded his head at her. “The deputies and I are just checking on the farms to make sure everything’s okay.”

  “As you can see, we’re fine.” Ted stopped him once again.

  Teddy Bear was starting to get on Taylor’s nerve. He didn’t know if he should make the jerk jealous enough to go for a ride with his girlfriend, or put him on his list of suspects. He decided the guy was probably harmless, but wanted to stick one last pin in his side. “If you drive thirty miles north, you’ll run into the interstate, which isn’t washed out, and makes a wide circle back to town. You can be home in an hour.”

  “Thanks.” Ted glared at him. “I know the way.”

  “I’m just trying to help.” Taylor smirked.

  The horse neighed as Farrah untied him and stepped into her left stirrup.

  Ted grabbed its bridle. “Where are you going?”

  The horse pranced and Farrah almost lost her footing.

  “I told you.” She snatched the bridle from him. “I have to ride the fence line.”

  “Why don’t you saddle up that other horse and go with her?” Taylor asked.

  “Because, Sheriff.” Ted glared. “Contrary to what they teach you in those big city cop schools, not all small town people ride horses and farm. My dad’s the bank president.” He sniffed the air then pinched his nose like something stunk. “We’re the community elite.”

  Farrah lowered her head.

  Taylor hated seeing anyone get picked on. Especially when the abuser professed to love their victim. “Too bad, Mr. Anderson. You’ll never know what you’re missing. I count the summers spent on my grandparents’ farm in Immokalee as some of my best mem
ories.”

  “We’ll talk later, Ted.” Farrah raised her head again and smiled at Taylor. “Have a good day, Sheriff.”

  He removed his Stetson sheriff’s hat. “May I have a minute, Miss Mathews? A stranger’s been spotted lurking around these farms. How about saddling up that other horse and allowing me to accompany you?” He looked at Ted hoping he’d get the hint. “Unless your boyfriend has changed his mind about going with you. He looks capable enough.”

  “I told you, Sheriff.” Ted crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Riding isn’t my thing.”

  Taylor began to wonder what was worse than being an ass.

  Farrah interrupted his thoughts. “Well, Sandy could certainly use the exercise, and I’d appreciate the company.”

  “Just one minute, Farrah.” Ted raised his voice. “You aren’t seriously considering going riding with him, are you?”

  The horse spooked, but Farrah controlled him. “Whoa, Stoney.” She patted him on the neck. After she dismounted him, she tied him to the fence. “Excuse us, Sheriff.” She grabbed Ted by the hand. “You, come with me.” Farrah stomped off toward the house with Ted in tow.

  Taylor caught some of the commotion.

  “He’s just being nice,” Farrah said.

  “Yeah, he’s thinking how nice things could really be.” The sarcastic tone in Ted’s voice rang out like Sunday morning church bells.

  Smack.

  “What was that for?” Ted yelled.

  “For having a dirty mind,” Farrah answered.

  Stop letting her runt boyfriend put ideas in your head, Heath. She’s your assignment. Don’t get attached.

  Ted was mumbling as he got into his Jeep and slammed the door. Mud and dirt spun from under his wheels as he pulled out of the driveway.

  “Are you ready for your riding lesson, Sheriff?” Farrah took a black horse with white feet out of the barn and saddled her. “Meet Sandy. I’m riding Stoney.”

  Taylor grabbed the horse by the bridle. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  “Ted?” She finished buckling the straps on Sandy. “No. He thinks you have designs on me. Have you ever heard of anything so ludicrous?”