“Oh, I would. This TV isn’t too big at all. But we’ve got other things to pay for, Hank. It can’t be helped.”
“Maybe we could do without some things. Then we’d have more money for the good stuff.”
“What are you thinking we could do without?” She, for one, didn’t have a plan. Already her car was limping along and her clothes were mainly purchased from resale shops.
“I don’t know. Broccoli?”
“Broccoli’s not making as much of a dent in our budget as you might think, buddy.”
He slumped. “I guess you’re right.” He looked down at his shoes. “Guess I can’t buy new sneakers, huh?”
Little by little, her heart broke. She hated not being able to get him the things he wanted. “Maybe we can get new shoes after I get paid.”
He flashed a smile. “’Kay.” Walking away, he opened up the fridge. “So, can I have an apple?”
Once upon a time, the answer to that question would have been automatic. But now she hesitated. There were sugar levels and dietary concerns she couldn’t afford to ignore. “What else have you eaten today?”
After he told her, she mentally reviewed the dietary guidelines that the nurses had given her. “I suppose so. But let me know if you start to feel funny.”
Hank rolled his eyes as he bit into an apple, then scooted toward the tiny TV and watched his regular series of shows on the Cartoon Network.
Usually, this would be the time that Susan would lean back and stretch and relax. But all she could do was watch Hank watch TV and worry.
She’d gotten the lab results. They were going to need to up Hank’s insulin dose. And though the nurse probably didn’t mean to sound like it, Susan had the uncomfortable feeling that the nurse thought she wasn’t monitoring his levels closely enough.
After scheduling yet another appointment with the pediatrician, Susan had hung up…and had wondered how in the world she would manage to get off even more time from work. Kay was going to be put out, that was for sure.
And how was she going to be able to start monitoring things better with Hank? When they weren’t going to all these doctor’s appointments, she’d be spending even less time with him, not more.
“I’m going to sit on the patio,” she told Hank, then walked out to her nine-by-nine concrete slab and took a seat.
The moment she closed her eyes, the furnace that was Texas in September engulfed her. On cue, she started to sweat. Any sane person would go on into the air-conditioning. But maybe that was the problem. She wasn’t sane. Not by a long shot.
Why else would she have left Children’s Hospital in Cincinnati, and all her family…for Electra, Texas?
Maybe she should go back to Cincinnati. Living in the city would be difficult and more expensive, but she could probably find a good job. And then Hank would have everything he needed in case something went wrong….
“You in for the night, Susan?” Betsy, her neighbor, peeked out in between the row of holly bushes that separated their patios.
“I am. What about you?”
The closest friend she had in Electra smiled a gap-toothed grin. “Not on your life! It’s only seven o’clock.”
Once upon a time, Susan had thought that way, too. Now, though, seven meant she could finally sit down and relax. “Hey, want to come over for a minute?”
“Of course. Let me get a pair of Buds and I’ll be right there.”
Minutes later, Betsy arrived, her hands full of Bud Lights and a spunky sashay in her walk. “Hot enough for you?” she asked as she flopped down on Susan’s extra lawn chair. As she did so, the hem of her cotton sundress fluttered around her thighs.
“More than enough. I don’t know when I’m ever going to get used to it being ninety in September.”
“Give it a few dozen years. Then it will seem as normal as dust storms in July.”
“In the meantime, I’ll just pray for good air-conditioning.” As they shared a chuckle, Susan sipped her beer, then looked her girlfriend over. Betsy was an office manager for a cellular-phone company and one of five siblings who all lived around the area. She always had something going on, either with work or with her family. “So, how are you? How was your day?”
“Irritating. Too many people were wanting things I can’t give them.” Running a hand through her short, spiky hair, she sighed. “But that’s okay. It’s Labor Day weekend and I’ve managed to get two out of the next three days off. Hey, want to come to a party with me tonight?”
“Thanks, but I can’t. I’ve got Hank.”
“We need to find you a sitter, Susan. You can’t spend every Friday night home.”
Until the doctors got Hank’s body under control, Susan didn’t want to risk Hank being in a sitter’s care more than she had to. And right now, he was already going to have to be with a sitter for most of Monday.
And, well, being home on a Friday night wasn’t that much of a tragedy for her. She liked the peace and quiet.
For the most part. “Where’s the party?” she asked, mainly to get Betsy’s focus off her.
“At Buffalo Bob’s. Do you know it?”
“Nope. But it’s got a catchy name.”
“It’s a play on Buffalo Bill, you know,” Betsy said earnestly. “Anyway, Bob’s is a honky-tonk down the way.” Betsy’s eyes lit up as if it was her birthday. “Every Labor Day, they put on a big ol’ party. A real celebration. I’m telling you what, it’s a good time. Susan, there’s even gonna be fireworks!”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It’s a hoot, that’s what it is. Lots of people will be there. You’re missing out.”
“I know.” It did sound fun. She used to look forward to Friday nights like no other. There was something to be said for kicking up her heels and letting off steam, and she’d done her fair share of that.
Well, she had until she’d become a mother. Now, sipping a glass of wine with her feet up and a good book sounded like heaven. With maybe a man rubbing her shoulders, too. Maybe even rubbing other places, too, she mused, her mouth going dry.
Gosh, how long had it been since she’d been on the receiving end of a man’s tender touch?
Still chatting about the bar, Betsy threw back the rest of her beer, then added, “Susan, it’s gonna be such a party. I heard even Cal Riddell might show up.”
Susan almost choked on her beer. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.” Betsy set down her Bud. “Wait a minute. You’re acting like you know something I don’t. Do you actually know Cal Riddell?”
“Yes.” Though she sure wished she didn’t.
Betsy’s golden eyes lit up. “Oh, honey. That’s awesome! Isn’t he gorgeous?”
He…was. But that didn’t really matter.
“Are you friends with him?”
“Not so much.”
Lowering her voice, Betsy leaned forward. “To tell you the truth, I tried to be more than friends with his brother a few months ago, but he blew me off.”
“Brother?”
“Trent. He’s a legit rodeo star.”
“Wow. I didn’t know that.”
“So, don’t you think that Cal Riddell is something else?”
It was a struggle to not offer her opinion. “He was something, all right.”
“My goodness, but he’s a fine looking man. Six foot three, black hair, blue-gray eyes…” Betsy fanned the air for emphasis. “And the way he talks. I swear, his voice is so deep. And that slow drawl, it’s enough to curl your toes.”
Susan had noticed that drawl.
“And, well, he’s rich as sin, too.”
Though she was telling herself she couldn’t care less about that man, Susan couldn’t help but catch hold of Betsy’s latest tidbit. “He’s rich?”
“Hell, yes! And we’re not talking rich like he-can-take-a-vacation-whenever-he-wants rich. We’re talking rich enough to-buy-himself-a-plane-and-pilot rich.” After a pause, Betsy said softly, “He’s rich enough to support a wife in the wa
y she’d like to be accustomed to.”
Though she was vaguely disturbed by Betsy’s words, Susan elected to ignore them. “Hmm,” she said simply. “I really had no idea.”
“You still don’t. Sue, he’s Cal Riddell, as in the Riddell Ranch.”
Betsy said that as if he was a celebrity or something. Well, she, for one, had never heard of the Riddells or their infamous ranch.
Come to think of it, she wouldn’t shed a tear if she never heard of the place again. Choosing her words carefully, Susan said, “Actually…I wasn’t all that impressed with him.”
“Get out.”
“I’m serious. We shared a table in the cafeteria at the hospital when Hank was getting tests done. The whole time, rich Cal Riddell couldn’t have been ruder.”
“That’s not like him. Usually, he hardly ever talks. It’s part of his charm, you know.”
Susan wished he’d been a little more quietly charming. Though… “He was a little nicer when our paths crossed at the hospital today.”
“See?”
“He was nice until he insulted me.”
“Uh-oh.”
Though Susan realized she was ranting, she just kept on going. “Uh-oh is right. He’s the biggest jerk alive. I hope I never see him again.”
“You ought to get those eyes of yours cleaned. He’s a catch and a half.”
“Not for me. I certainly don’t want to catch him. I just want to stay out of his way.”
“I bet you’ll feel differently about him once y’all dance. I’d feel all kinds of things for him if I pressed up against him real close.”
Susan couldn’t imagine the man she’d met unbend enough to dance at all. She couldn’t even imagine trying to have a conversation with him in a bar! Nor did she ever want to try.
So, if she couldn’t imagine any of that…why could she definitely imagine what it would feel like to be pressed up close to him?
She cleared her throat. “Unfortunately, I won’t be dancing with anyone tonight. But you be sure and tell me how the party is.”
Betsy looked her over and frowned. “Susan, you need to put yourself out there if you want to meet anyone.”
“I know. And I have been meeting people. I’ve met a lot of people at work, you know.”
“Doctors and old people don’t count.”
Before Susan could dispute that, Betsy picked up her empty bottle and stood. “Well, I need to go shower and get cute.” Shaking her spiky red hair, she grinned. “This magic don’t happen on its own, you know.”
“Have fun, Betsy.”
With a little wave, her friend turned and disappeared through the hedge.
And left Susan thinking about a long Friday night with nothing to do but sit and stew. And to wonder what it would be like to actually have money to spend on clubs and parties.
And to wonder how her life might have been different if Hank’s dad had decided to stay.
Chapter Four
Sunday brought church and another hospital visit. As Cal held Ginny’s hand while she skipped down the hall, he prayed again for patience.
Praying for patience was pretty much a constant thing now, though he wasn’t sure if anyone was actually listening to him. Lately, all he seemed to be doing was biting his tongue while everyone else gave him grief.
Or told him their troubles. Or asked for more than he could give. Frankly, Cal had a feeling all his tolerance for the year had been used up sometime during the second week of January. From that point on, he’d been living on borrowed time.
“We’re almost there, Junior,” Ginny announced, skipping along by his side on her tippy-toes. “We’re almost at Daddy’s door.”
“Uh-huh.”
“When I see him, I’m going to give him a big hug.”
“You know you can’t do that,” he warned. “He’s had surgery, remember?”
“But you said he was better!”
“His heart is, not his mood.” As Ginny struggled to digest that tidbit, Cal directed her over to the side of the hallway and knelt down on one knee. The last thing in the world he wanted was for Ginny to get her feelings hurt.
And because their dad was in no condition to watch his mouth, Cal figured his little sister should be prepared for the worst. “Ginny, honey, I just want to warn you that Dad’s been in a bear of a mood. So, he might not be super happy to see us. You know what I mean?”
“No. He’s always happy to see me.”
She had a point there. If anyone could make the old man be almost companionable, it was his little sister. “He will be happy to see you, but he might forget to act like it.” Or tell her, Cal added grimly. Actually, that was probably putting it kindly. In the years since Cal’s mother passed away, his father had gradually lost whatever town polish he’d slapped on when he got rich and spent time in Dallas.
With every passing month, Cal Sr. seemed to care less about offending people and more about saying what was on his mind.
And there was always a lot on Dad’s mind. Nowadays, he didn’t watch his tongue in the best of situations. And when Dad was really in a mood, well, all bets were off that anything kind and sweet would pass through his lips.
Chances were good that this was one of those days.
When they started walking again, Ginny slipped her hand in Cal’s. “Junior?” she said with a tug.
“Hmm?”
“You’re frowning. Aren’t you happy to see me, too?”
Taking a knee again, he pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m always happy to see you. Always.”
She wrapped her skinny arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his neck, the way she always did. “And Jarred and Trent, too?”
“Of course. Sugar, Dad loves you, too. He’s just a grump sometimes.”
“A grumpy Gus.”
“Yep. Okay now, let’s go see how he’s doing,” he murmured when they finally got to their dad’s door.
Slowly twisting the handle, he peeked in. “Dad?”
Lying on the bed, looking beat-up and pissed off, Calvin Sr. glared his way. “I’m here. Where else would I be?”
Cal matched his father’s glare with one of his own. “Ginny’s here with me. She wanted to come see you.” Cal made sure he put the emphasis on she, just so his dad would know that Cal’s patience was up and gone.
Before he could give his father any additional warning glances, Ginny broke free from his hand and scampered in. “Hey, Daddy!” she hollered. Surely loud enough to wake the patients down the hall.
Quickly Cal reached for her but was too late. “Gin—” he warned. “Watch—”
She either didn’t hear or didn’t care to abide his warning, because she was flying toward the bed like a bullet.
Ready to jump and cause a heap of trouble….
“Stop!” Calvin called out, his face full of alarm.
Ginny skidded to a stop. “Daddy?”
“You settle down, girl. You’re in the hospital, not the circus. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir,” she said meekly, then turned Cal’s way.
As he saw her bottom lip begin to quiver, he took two steps forward and reached for her hand again. “Remember how I said Daddy’s had surgery?” he murmured as their father continued to scowl. “You’ve got to move a whole lot slower in here. You could have hurt him.”
Turning back to their dad, Ginny started moving in slow motion. “Is this better, Daddy?”
She looked ridiculous. But instead of smiling Ginny’s way, their dad glowered at him. “Why did you bring her?”
Ginny stopped again. Cal placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I brought her because she wanted to see you. Though, with the way you’re acting, I don’t know why.”
Twin spots of color appeared on their father’s cheeks.
When they were stopped in front of his bed, Ginny let go of Cal’s hand and placed both of hers on the bars surrounding the hospital bed. “You don’t look good, Daddy.”
“Thanks. I don’t feel g
ood.”
“Cal says you’re grumpy ’cause you don’t like people messing with your heart, on account it don’t work too well. What was wrong with the old one?”
“I smoked and ate too much.”
Ginny paused a bit, digesting that bit of news. Then she rose on her tiptoes and stared at his chest. “Do you have a scar?”
“I do.”
“Is it big?”
“It is.”
She leaned forward, turning her head slightly so her eye was peeking out through the bars on the side of the bed. “Can I see it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Slowly, their father raised his eyes to Cal’s and sighed. “You can’t see it because it’s all bandaged up.”
“But you’ll be all better soon?”
To Cal’s relief, their father chuckled. “I think so, darlin’.”
After a moment, Ginny rearranged herself in front of the metal bars again. Now, as she peered at her daddy through the openings, Cal imagined she looked like a prisoner in a jail cell. “So, are you happy to see me now?”
Cal held his breath. There was no telling what his dad was going to say to that. His father was in extreme pain, and possibly loopy from medication, too. Mentally, he cursed himself. He should have known better than to bring his little sister in. All this was going to do was aggravate their father and cause Ginny unnecessary grief.
And then he, of course, was going to have to deal with it.
But then, in the blink of an eye, Cal watched his father’s whole disposition change yet again. Gone was the pissed-off expression, the frown between his salt-and-pepper brows. In its place was the kind of sweet, special smile Cal only saw when his father worked with his prized gelding, Vixen, or talked with Ginny. “Of course I am. You never fail to brighten my day.” Reaching out, he tapped her knuckles. “Whatcha been doing? Have you been a good girl?”
“I’ve been helping Cal around the house. I’ve been helping Gwen, too. We made Rice Krispie treats.” She swiveled her head and looked up at him. “I’ve been real good, right?”
Cal nodded slowly. “Pretty good.”
“How many fights?”
My True Cowboy Page 4