by Carol Finch
Nate made a mental note not only to apologize to Katy, but to thank her for her assistance, even if she did leave his business in a tangle and he had to deal with the deep-seated emotion that came with it. She was trying, he reminded himself. That was more than he could say for the rest of the folks in this town.
“How are things at home, Jake?” Nate asked, motioning for the kid to park himself in a nearby chair.
Reluctantly, Jake moved forward, then slouched in the chair. “Things aren’t too good,” he admitted. “My old man got boozed up again last night. This time I counted the empty beer cans, then I left with my kid sister before the fireworks started. Mom must have decided she’d had enough because she hasn’t been around in a couple of days.”
“I know it’s tough, Jake,” Nate murmured compassionately. “You keep thinking your dad will change his ways, that this time will be the last time he gets tanked up and throws punches. But reality is that your dad needs professional help.”
“Not according to him,” Jake muttered. “He doesn’t think he has a problem.”
Nate wasn’t allowed to continue the conversation because the other boys returned with snacks and colas. He did admit that watching the intercollegiate basketball playoffs with the boys improved his disposition. Yet, even though Nate was pleased to have the boys’ company, something was missing. There was still this aching loneliness that couldn’t be filled.
Damn, it was going to be hell without Katy in his life. But he couldn’t ask her to pull up stakes and move away with him. For better or worse, this town was her home, and she had committed herself to this community. She had poured her time, energy and money into the library. She was the first one in town to offer sympathy, food or whatever was needed when a family faced a crisis. Furthermore, there was Tammy to take into consideration.
Just give it up, Nate told himself. There was only one reasonable course of action to take. He would move to Odessa and give this town what it wanted—his permanent absence. As soon as the boys graduated high school Nate would encourage them to come to Odessa so they could work for him and take night classes at the college. Having them around would make his life seem complete.
“Yeah, right, Channing,” Nate muttered under his breath. “That will never be enough to satisfy you and you damn well know it. You better accept the fact that you’re going to leave here with a hole the size of Texas in your heart.”
“Where have you been so long?” Nate asked when Fuzz finally returned shortly before midnight.
“Here and there,” Fuzz said evasively. “Did you have a good visit with the boys?”
Nate nodded as Fuzz wheeled him to the bedroom. “I’m still worried about Jake. He and his sister need to get away from that bad situation at home. Then there’s Chad, whose mother is hardly ever around. And Tyler, Richie and Will—”
“I’m working on the arrangements,” Fuzz interrupted. “A social worker from the Department of Health and Human Services will be here tomorrow afternoon to appraise the cases.”
Nate glanced up, surprised. “When did you have time to set that up?”
“In between jumping and running every time you called me,” Fuzz teased good-naturedly.
“Sorry about that. I guess I’ve been hard to live with this week,” Nate said as Fuzz maneuvered him beside the bed.
“Hard to live with?” Fuzz snickered. “That’s putting it mildly, son. You’ve been hell to live with.”
“Well, you won’t have to put up with me much longer. I’m moving back to Odessa and appointing an office manager to handle the branch office.”
“What?” Fuzz howled in disbelief.
Nate flinched uncomfortably as he struggled to sit down on the edge of his bed. “Let’s face it, Fuzz. I’m never going to be accepted here. And worse, I’m causing you, Katy, Millie, Mary Jane and the boys grief by association. The best thing for me to do is leave,” he said, defeated.
“Katy is right. You have given up.” Fuzz let loose with a disgusted snort. “I never thought I’d see this day.”
“Well, it has arrived,” Nate insisted. “A man has to be a fool to keep beating his head against a locked door. Thanks to Judge Bates my fate was sealed permanently. No one in town has any intention of forgetting who and what I was, and no one will believe the honorable Judge Bates framed me.”
Fuzz braced one hand on the headboard and the other on his hip. “Now, you listen to me, buster. Nobody ever said life was easy. From what I’ve seen, it’s nothing but complicated and messy. Take you, for instance. You battled your way through a difficult childhood, then you got your act together with Bud Thurston’s help. Then you got in on the ground floor during the oil boom, worked your butt off, made some wise investments and found the success you deserve. If you had told folks around here that you own Sunrise Oil, you would have gotten instant respect.”
“Would I?” Nate begged to differ. “I would have been using my influence as owner of the company and my money to buy friends in this town. That’s not the same thing, and it certainly isn’t the way I want to acquire acceptance.”
Fuzz frowned pensively. “I guess I see your point.”
“Then you should also realize that I can still boost the economy of this town while I’m in Odessa. I can have my staff buy leases to drill wells, and the local landowners will profit from them. There will be plenty of jobs available when the office opens. Money will pour back into town when the oil wells are in production. I don’t need to be here in person to hand out royalty checks and payroll checks.”
“But you need to be here for Katy,” Fuzz said quietly. “That woman really cares about you. You’d have to be blind in both eyes not to see that.”
“It just won’t work,” Nate muttered fatalistically.
“Then make it work!”
Nate shook his head dismally. “I’m damned tired of making things work. I did what I came here to do and it’s time I left.”
Fuzz walked away, muttering contradictions to Nate’s logic, but Nate had had plenty of time to lie in bed and sort out his thoughts. When he could stand on both feet, then he was as good as gone…. And most folks in Coyote Flats would stand up and cheer about it.
Chapter Fourteen
Katy was bone-weary by the time she returned home shortly after midnight. She found the note Tammy left in the kitchen, informing her that Nate wanted to talk to her.
A phone call just wasn’t going to cut it, Katy realized. It had been almost a week since Nate had sent her away. Too many lonely, frustrating days—and nights. Well, enough was enough. Nate may have decided to walk away from this town, from them, but he wasn’t physically able to leave yet.
After a quick shower, Katy drove off, intent on seeing Nate in person. Using the key Nate kept inside the storm door, Katy let herself into the house and moved silently down the hall. The moment she saw Nate lying in bed—the night-light in the bathroom casting shadows across the bedroom—the tension of the day melted away.
Nate had dozed off, she noted. He lay on his back, the white bandages around his ribs in stark contrast to his bronzed skin. The sheet was draped across his hips, and his hands were resting on the sculpted muscles of his belly.
Katy smiled ruefully as she approached the bed. Her dreams of a future with Nate had shattered around her, but she just kept clinging to the hope that he would change his mind about leaving. Yet, she understood why he wanted to go back to a place where he was respected, accepted. The past two months hadn’t been easy on him.
Carefully, Katy eased down beside Nate, finding the contentment that had eluded her for days. She cuddled up as close as she could without disturbing Nate’s sleep. Whatever he had wanted to say would have to wait, because Katy didn’t want to spoil the feelings of satisfaction that stole through her.
This was where she had always belonged—by Nate’s side, for better or worse, in sickness and in health. And this is where she would stay as long as he let her. She could only pray that he would realize they could w
eather any storm, as long as they were together. They were soul mates, she was certain of it.
On that wishful thought, Katy drifted off to sleep.
Nate awoke, feeling the strangest, unaccountable feeling of contentment. He didn’t know what prompted it, just knew that he had enjoyed the best night’s sleep he’d had in days. The scent of Katy’s perfume clung to him as he eased onto his side. Damn, his forbidden dreams were really becoming vivid, weren’t they? Nate could almost swear he could feel an aura of warmth beside him, as if Katy had actually been there with him all through the night.
Groggily, Nate opened his eyes to stare at the empty space beside him. A muddled frown beetled his brow when he saw the note lying on the extra pillow. Nate picked it up and held it to the light that streamed through the window.
I still love you. Nothing will ever change that.
Katy
Nate closed his eyes against the riptide of emotion tumbling through him. Katy had been there beside him during the night, despite the fact that he’d hurt her, had sent her away and told her not to come back. True, loyal, forgiving, unfaltering, that was his Katy. When all the rest of the world went to hell she would always be there…if he let her.
But he couldn’t let her do that. He couldn’t let his own selfish desire bring her more trouble and heartache, Nate told himself resolutely. Her place was here in Coyote Flats.
His wasn’t.
“Well, glad to see you’re awake, especially since your breakfast is hot off the stove,” Mary Jane Calloway said as she buzzed through the door. “Hungry?”
“Not particularly,” Nate mumbled at the energetic, redhaired widow who breezed into his room.
“Too bad. Eat it and like it. Then we’ll get you into the shower.”
Nate frowned darkly. “Why this sudden burst of interest in me? You’ve taken a wide berth around me all week.”
“Darn right I did.” Mary Jane set the tray of eggs, bacon, toast and coffee on his lap. “You turned mean and nasty. I’m not getting paid to get my head bit off, just to cook and clean.”
“Thanks, Mary Jane. I’ll eat because you fussed,” Nate said, offering her a peace-treaty smile.
The older woman grinned at him. “That’s better. Keep that smile handy, handsome. You’ll want to wear it while we’re attending the Spring Festival of the Coyote.”
Nate’s smile turned upside down. “I am not going into town. I don’t care what kind of festivities are scheduled.”
“Of course you’re going. Didn’t I just say so? Fuzz also says so. Millie and I are here to help you get dressed after you have your shower.”
Nate was not going to be bullied by two old women and a retired sheriff, even if he did happen to be physically challenged at the moment. He’d had his fill of the folks in Coyote Flats, and he was not going to be humiliated by letting people smirk and look down their noses at him while he was rolled down the street in that blasted wheelchair.
“I’m not going and that’s final—”
When Mary Jane crammed a slice of toast in his mouth, Nate nearly choked.
“Don’t mess with me, buster,” she said, giving him the evil eye. “Just eat and keep your trap shut, or I’ll call in reinforcements. Millie and I aren’t putting up with your nonsense this morning.”
“I’ll eat,” Nate growled as he snatched up his fork, then stabbed the sunny-side-up eggs until they wept all over his plate. “But I sure as hell am not going into town. You wanna join the festivities? Fine. Go. Take Millie and Fuzz with you. I’m staying here.”
“Fuzz has already left for town,” Mary Jane informed him.
“Why? Is he the master of ceremonies or something?”
“Nope, the mayor is, same as every year,” she told him. “Now, eat your bacon. It’s cooked exactly the way you like it.”
Grudgingly, Nate sampled the bacon. It was perfect, but so was everything Mary Jane cooked up. He was going to miss her mouthwatering meals and her to-die-for desserts when he moved back to Odessa. Nate considered asking Mary Jane to go with him, but he refused to deprive Fuzz of Mary Jane’s fabulous cooking. Besides, the two had become good friends.
Millie appeared in the doorway. “Is that boy behaving himself?”
“More or less,” Mary Jane replied. “He’s eating. That’s a start.”
“I’m staying here,” Nate told his aunt in no uncertain terms.
“Are not,” she said in her customary gruff voice. “Nobody is missing the social event of the season. We only have two a year, and it’s a long time till the Christmas parade.”
Nate set aside his fork and stared pointedly at Millie, then at Mary Jane. “Look, I appreciate the fact that you have decided it’s time I got out of the house to breathe some fresh air. I’d like nothing better myself. But I’m not going farther than the front porch, where I plan to make a few business calls. I am not going to town and that is that…Hey, cut that out!”
Nate’s eyeballs nearly popped out of his head when the two women descended on him. He found himself playing tug-ofwar with the sheet, because these two banshees were trying to pull it off of him. He was wearing nothing but briefs and bandages!
Despite his attempt to hang on to the sheet without ripping another tender rib loose, Millie and Mary Jane won the battle. Embarrassed, exasperated, Nate glowered at them, but neither woman backed down.
“You gonna get off your duff and shower or do I have to bathe you?” Millie asked gruffly.
“All right, damn it,” Nate said, and scowled. “I’ll shower, but I’m not leaving the house!”
Millie crossed her arms beneath her ample bosom and glowered at him. “After all I did for you when you were a kid? This is the thanks I get? Now, you listen to me, you ungrateful whippersnapper, all’s I’m asking is for you to attend the festivities for a few hours. The way you’re carrying on you’d think I asked you to walk barefoot over hot coals. Now, get up and get into this blasted wheelchair, ’fore me and Mary Jane are forced to drag you into the bathroom by your heels.”
“Fine, I’m going!” Nate shouted.
“Good!” the women shouted back, then marched from the room.
Mumbling and grumbling, Nate inched off the bed and struggled into the wheelchair. Muscles screamed. Pain shot through his chest. Those old hens thought they could boss him around now that he was laid up, did they? If this was how it felt to have parents lording over him, maybe he was glad he hadn’t had any to speak of.
Slowly but surely, Nate rolled himself into the bathroom, then removed the bandages. He switched on the faucets, then maneuvered onto the shower bench. The warm mist sprayed down on him, rejuvenating him. He asked himself why he hadn’t made the effort to shower days earlier, rather than settling for those spit baths in bed.
Suddenly he felt ten times better, much to his surprise. He also stayed in the shower as long as possible, pretty certain those banshees wouldn’t come in after him while he was stark naked.
Nate was forced to switch off the faucets when the water ran cold. When he had toweled dry, he made his way back to the bedroom to dress.
It wasn’t easy to dress, if anybody cared to know. Pulling up his briefs and jeans, while suffering from cracked ribs and a strained knee, was sheer hell. Nate gave up trying to tug the T-shirt over his head, just left it draped around his neck. It was the best he could do.
“You decent, boy?” Millie called from the hall.
“Since when did you let that bother you?” he shot back.
Millie and Mary Jane came through the door, looking all smug and gloating. Nate fired them a glare hot enough to scorch the iron off a skillet.
“You aren’t wearing that shirt,” Millie declared, then jerked it over his head. “Looks like something that belongs in a ragbag. Mary Jane, hand me one of those high-dollar polo shirts from the closet. The red one will be fine.”
Nate swore under his breath when the two women finished dressing him. When they had crammed his socks and shoes on his feet and sli
cked back his wet hair, they proclaimed him suitably dressed to attend the festivities.
Spring Festival of the Coyote, Nate thought with another snort. Here was yet another glaring example of this town’s lack of originality. Some communities celebrated Frontier Days, Cowtown Days, Antique Tractor Shows and Hee-Haw Mania.
But not in this neck of the woods. It was coyote this and coyote that.
Furthermore, Nate didn’t have to dress up and go all the way into town to be insulted, rejected and harassed. He was receiving plenty of hate mail, thank you very much.
Regardless of his distaste in attending the Festival of the Coyote to view hand-painted ceramic coyotes and wood-carved coyotes, listen to coyote-calling contests and eat coyote-shaped cupcakes, Millie and Mary Jane loaded him in his car and drove him into town.
The festival hadn’t changed much in sixteen years, Nate noted as Mary Jane wheeled him down the sidewalk. Main Street was still roped off with yellow crime-scene tape. Pictures of howling coyotes were still painted on shop windows to commemorate the festivities. Tent booths still lined both sides of the street. An upraised stage still occupied the town square, and folding chairs sat in a semicircle near Coyote Fountain.
Nope, nothing had changed. Nate was still unwanted baggage with a reputation that he couldn’t overcome, no matter how hard he tried.
“Good, you made it.”
Nate’s heart fluttered when he heard Katy’s cheerful voice behind him. His breath stalled in his chest when she circled around his wheelchair to smile at him. She looked absolutely radiant in her sunny yellow halter dress and sandals. If he had expected this encounter to be uncomfortable, he was mistaken. You would have thought he had never spoken harshly, then ordered her out of his house, his life. It was as if the incident hadn’t happened. Katy treated him as if she was delighted to see him.
“You’re looking much better, more rested,” Katy said as she leaned down to brush a kiss against his cheek.
“Do I? It must be because I’ve been forced into doing absolutely nothing but rest for a week,” he replied grumpily.