by Jodi Thomas
The dream didn’t matter, he decided, but the fact he’d never told Amy did. Why hadn’t he told her? Did he think she’d somehow love him less? If he hadn’t wanted to be a minister, would he have been the perfect fit for her? Did he love her so much he was willing to erase a dream, or did she love him so little that it would have made a difference?
Micah leaned forward, his head in his hands. He’d lived with the loss of perfection when he’d lost his Amy. Now to see a crack made him grieve all over again.
“Dad?” Logan yelled from the doorway. “Are you in here?”
“I’m here,” he answered and stepped back into the role that had become his life. “Ready to head home, son?”
The boy came closer. He had a cookie in one hand and a paper butterfly with a Bible verse typed on it in the other. “I was wondering.” Logan made the butterfly fly as he neared. “If I could go home with Jimmy and play. His mom said she wouldn’t mind at all. She says she owes you big-time for yesterday, whatever that means.”
“Tell her yesterday was my pleasure, but if you want to go home with Jimmy and his parents, I’ll pick you up later.”
“Wait until after supper, would you, Dad? Me and Jimmy got some talking to do. Tomorrow’s school and we don’t get to talk much then.”
“All right. After supper if it’s okay with Jimmy’s mom.” Micah knew it would be. The boys spent so much time together, Logan kept a toothbrush at Jimmy’s house and Micah always bought a box of Jimmy’s favorite cereal when he shopped.
He straightened Logan’s hair and smiled.
With that his son was gone, running as always. Micah finished up, helping several elderly to their cars and locking doors. He crossed into his office where all was quiet. Without really thinking about it, he dialed Randi’s number.
“Hello,” she answered on the first ring.
“Hello.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. He couldn’t very well just blurt out that he wanted to see her. And, if he suggested they talk, she might ask what about and he’d be stuck. Maybe he was safer to stop with hello.
She laughed. “This is the most boring obscene call I’ve ever had.”
Micah relaxed. “I just thought I’d call before dark so you’ll know I do come out when it’s light.”
The other end of the phone was dead for so long, Micah thought she’d hung up on him. “Micah,” she finally said. “It’s been four years this week since my husband and four others were in that oil-rig accident.”
He already knew that, the whole town talked about it from time to time. The worst thing that had ever happened in Clifton Creek. An oil rig blew, killing four and leaving one crippled.
Micah felt like a fool. He shouldn’t have called.
Before he could say anything, Randi continued, “Some of us are going out to the site this afternoon to kind of pay our respects. We’re leaving in a few minutes.”
“I’m sorry.” He felt bad for calling. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
“No, it’s okay,” she answered. “I thought of calling you to see if you’d go with me. I don’t really want to go alone this year.”
“Are you sure you want me along?”
“I could use a friend.”
“I’m on my way.”
Ten minutes later, he drove into the bar parking lot. The sheriff and his pregnant wife were waiting with Randi. Granger didn’t seem the least surprised to see Micah and greeted him with a nod. Meredith, who’d never met Micah, greeted him warmly. She waddled a few steps and Granger frowned and followed as if ready to catch her if she tumbled.
Before the introductions were over, another car arrived with a beautiful woman dressed in wealth and a man leaning heavily on a cane. Randi introduced them as Crystal and Shelby Howard. She didn’t add, the one survivor, but Micah figured it out. Though the man was scarred and moved in slow steps, there was no doubt he loved his wife. Micah had heard more than one person in town say that Crystal had worked miracles taking care of Shelby and running an oil company.
They greeted Micah formally. The men shook hands, the women hugged one another. They all spoke of a widow who’d died soon after her husband and how much they missed her. Micah tried to follow the conversation, but these were old friends used to finishing one another’s thoughts. Finally, everyone climbed back into their cars and the sheriff’s car led the caravan out to the site.
Randi seemed quieter than usual as Micah drove. Micah knew ways to draw her out, get her to talk about things she kept locked away. The tricks of the trade in counseling, he thought, but he used none of them on her. He wanted her to tell him when she was ready, if she ever felt ready.
He laid his hand over hers. She turned her palm up and gripped his hand, but didn’t look at him. He drove on in silence.
The final woman widowed four years ago was waiting for the caravan at her ranch gate. She was striking atop a beautiful black mare. When she opened the gate, she introduced herself as Anna and to Micah’s surprise, she winked at him. “Randi tells me you ride. I brought along an extra mount. We can cross to the site by the time everyone drives around along the road if you want to ride with me.”
Micah couldn’t believe it. In his best dress pants, he swung up on a horse just as he had as a child. Anna kicked her animal into action. Randi smiled at him then slid over to the driver’s seat of his car and followed the other vehicles. Micah was left at the gate trying to remember a skill he hadn’t practiced in twenty years. Luckily, the horse seemed to want to follow Anna, so Micah’s main task came down to hanging on.
He could see the beautiful woman riding as if she’d been born on a horse, while he bumped along behind. But the wind in his face was the same, and Micah laughed, remembering how dearly he loved riding even if he couldn’t quite master the skill.
Anna slowed as a skeleton of an oil rig came into sight. She walked her mount until Micah caught up. “We meet here every year to remember. This is the first time Randi’s ever brought a friend.” She smiled at him. “I’m glad you could come.”
By the time they got to the rig, the cars had pulled in close to the ashes. Randi held his horse’s reins while he climbed off. “Enjoy the ride, cowboy?”
He fought a smile. “I’m a long way from that and you know it, but yes. Thank you.”
“Hey, you’re closer than you think. You can ride and two-step. There’s not all that much more to it.”
Anna kissed a lean man standing by the cars and handed him the reins to her horse. Randi told Micah the rancher was Anna’s husband, but she didn’t take the time to introduce the men.
They joined the others, all silent now as they began the ritual. The women each collected flowers from the trunk of Crystal’s car and scattered them on the burned pile that had once been a rig. The sheriff, Anna’s husband and Micah stood back where Crystal had parked the car so that her Shelby could see without having to stand.
Micah was very much aware that each man watched his wife. The men were silent and it took Micah a minute to realize why they all frowned. They all realized that if the accident hadn’t happened—if the men hadn’t died—they wouldn’t have their women now. They wouldn’t have the life they had.
He looked toward the women. They must have suffered greatly, but they’d survived and somehow each must be stronger because of it. Crystal opened a bottle of wine and all but the sheriff’s pregnant wife drank a toast. Then, they threw their glasses into the rubble.
Finally, the women turned one by one and walked back to their cars, tears streaming down their cheeks. Micah was glad he’d come. He wondered if Randi usually did this alone with no one to hold her after the odd ceremony.
For a few minutes, they let the men who waited wrap them in caring arms, then, nervously, they laughed as tissues were passed.
Anna invited them back to the house. Crystal said Shelby wasn’t feeling well, but the others agreed. Anna’s husband Zack swung his wife onto her saddle and said he’d meet her back at the house.
&
nbsp; Randi looked up at Micah. “Can you stay a while?”
“Sure.” He grinned. “You don’t want to help me up in the saddle?”
She shook her head and jingled the car keys. “No, but I’ll race you back.”
He climbed back on the horse thinking he was getting the hang of it now. He even managed to stay up with Anna on the mile ride to their barn. In the afternoon sun, the place looked like what Micah had always dreamed a working ranch would be. It felt good to know that somewhere, for someone, his dream was real.
When they reached the corral, Anna handed her animal over to one of the hands, but Micah wanted to see the barn. He promised to catch up with Anna soon and then turned to ask the hand questions. Micah wanted to see more, smell more, feel more, while he had the chance.
An hour later Randi found him bottle-feeding a young colt, his Sunday pants covered in dirt.
“Anna sent me to tell you they’ve got barbecue ready if you’re interested.”
He nodded and gave the bottle to the ranch hand who had been answering questions. As Micah walked beside Randi to the main house, he whispered, “You have no idea how much I needed this. The past hour has been like stepping into a dream.”
“Anna’s invited us out next week. Maybe you can bring Logan along. I’d like to meet him.” The second the words were out of her mouth, she bit her lip. She’d gone too far. Made it seem like they were a couple. Presumed.
He understood. An invisible line crossed between them, keeping them both apart, even when they were close to one another. The past. Her husband. His wife. Their lives. Reality. He decided if she could play hopscotch with the line, he could too, even if it were just pretend for tonight and they’d go back to the real world tomorrow. “I’d like that,” he said simply and took her hand as they walked toward the house.
It couldn’t be this simple, Micah thought an hour later when they were sitting around laughing and talking horses. He couldn’t step so easily into being with Randi, but somehow, if only for today, he had. She teased him, even showing the others how he first danced. He laughed so hard when Granger told the group about having to arrest the Rogers sisters, Micah felt tears come to his eyes.
Micah had never seen the sheriff relaxed. Granger and Zack were friendly with one another, but not like the women. Randi, Meredith and Anna seemed more like sisters even though they were very different women.
The phone rang somewhere in the kitchen and they lowered their voices. A moment later Zack called Granger back. Everyone continued to talk, but the tone was low now.
Granger returned, pulling on his uniform jacket. “Randi, can you see Meredith gets home?”
Randi nodded but the sheriff wasn’t looking. He strapped on the gun he’d removed when he’d walked in the door. Glancing up at his wife, he ordered, “I want you to call me if anything happens. Don’t wait because you think I’m busy. Call me if you feel anything.”
“I promise. What is it? What’s happened?” Meredith asked and everyone else waited.
Granger hesitated. “It’s Billy Hatcher. He’s been beat up bad. Lora Whitman found him out behind the Altman place. They’re taking him to the hospital now. I told them I’d meet them there.”
Meredith straightened; as a sheriff’s wife she’d learned not to ask for more.
“We’ll get her home,” Micah said wishing he were already at Billy’s side. “Tell him—”
Granger turned to Micah. “Tell him yourself,” he said. “You’re going with me.”
Something in Granger’s eyes made Micah nod without arguing.
They were running by the time they reached the police car. Granger threw it into gear before Micah got his door closed. They were off, sailing down a dirt road with lights flashing.
“He may need you,” Granger said.
“I’ll phone Jimmy’s mom and let her know I may be late picking up Logan.” He pulled out his cell phone. “Thanks for letting me ride along. I want to be there if Billy’s hurt. I’m his friend.”
Granger shook his head slowly. “You’re the closest thing he’s got to a priest. I don’t know how bad it is.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Lora Whitman curled into one of the hospital blankets in the waiting room and tried to get warm. She hadn’t stopped shaking for two hours. Closing her eyes, she tried to piece together her day.
She’d woken up in the sisters’ living room with Billy beside her. They’d eaten breakfast, then she’d dropped him off at the Altman place where his car had been parked behind the house. He’d told her he was going over to the professor’s to get Sidney to help him fill out forms so he could take some classes. Then he’d planned to spend a few hours working out at the Y. He’d tried to tease her into joining him.
She’d laughed and driven off yelling something about why should she work out when she could already whip him.
Lora had gone home to flowers from Talon and questions from her mother. The flowers must have been delivered on Saturday, before he’d seen her at the truck stop Sunday morning, because the card asked for a second date. Since they’d only had half of the first one, she didn’t see how that could be possible. She wouldn’t go out with Talon again if he bought half the cars on her father’s lot. He might be model handsome, but being with him made her feel strange, as if she were only a bit player in the play that framed his life.
Lora finally got rid of her mother by claiming she had a headache. She spent the rest of the day trying not to be accidentally in the same room with Isadore. About sunset, she decided to go for a drive and when she saw Billy’s car back at the Altman place, she thought she’d offer to buy him a hamburger if he’d ride along.
But the house was locked up and Billy, or his bedroll, was nowhere in sight. She walked around the gardens, until it grew too dark to see the path, remembering how she used to hate the grounds when she was a kid. She’d always thought of it as a haunted place. She even remembered hearing stories about a madman who roamed in the dark. But now she saw the gardens for what they were. A lonely old woman’s passion. Rosa Lee Altman had cared and tended to them all her life and they’d ended up just like Rosa Lee, dead.
Lora walked back to her car, watching for a light in the house and telling herself Billy was probably down at the café having supper. She knew he never went home unless he had to and couldn’t help but wonder how much of his life he’d spent roaming about the town, sleeping wherever he found a place. People always thought of street kids as being in big cities. She told herself he must have some place to call home, but she wasn’t so sure. His car was here, so he’d be returning sometime, but she wasn’t about to wait for him in the dark.
When she swung her car around to leave, her lights crossed over the pile of bricks and trash at the end of the back porch.
Something moved.
Her imagination went wild. Zombie animals crawling out to roam the streets at dusk. Rats the size of cats.
The car light reflected off something black and shiny—a leather jacket.
Lora froze. She clicked the lights to bright and saw an arm shoving from the rubble.
From then on, everything happened at once. She jumped from her car and ran down the beam of light. She pulled at Billy’s arm, crying, screaming for him to stop scaring her. She clawed at the mud as she jerked him free, her hands red with his blood, her ears hurting at the volume of her own cries.
She didn’t remember what she screamed into the cell phone, but it only took a few minutes before the ambulance pulled up. For a moment, she wouldn’t turn loose of him. He seemed a rag doll made of mud and blood, but his hand gripped hers as if holding on to life. When they’d gotten to the hospital, the nurse had had to pry her away. Then they’d forced her into the hell of the waiting room and had left her alone.
“Lora?”
She looked up as Micah ran toward her.
“Are you all right?”
She shook her head. It seemed a dozen people had passed by and asked her the same question, then drif
ted away. Micah sat down and pulled her into a hug.
She thought of crying, but she wasn’t sure she had any more tears. She’d asked the others how Billy was, but none of them told her. She didn’t bother to ask Micah.
“At first.” Her voice sounded hoarse, strange to her. “I thought the house had fallen on him. But the wall was still there. Whoever hurt him tried to bury him.”
Micah didn’t say anything. He just held her tightly for a while. She leaned into him, trying not to think as she listened to his heart beating.
Finally, Micah whispered, “Do you want me to call someone? Your folks?”
“No, but we need to call the professor. Billy had planned a meeting with her. I don’t know if he made it there or not. I don’t know how long he lay in the mud before I found him. It could have been a few minutes. It might have been all day.”
Micah nodded and dialed Sidney’s number. In low tones, he told the professor what had happened, then lowered his phone without saying goodbye. “She’s on her way,” he said.
Lora curled back into the blanket and they waited. Sidney arrived with questions and, to Lora’s surprise, it helped her focus to tell the story again. The first time with the deputy, she hadn’t been able to stop crying. The sisters rushed in a few minutes later and she repeated every detail, forcing herself to remember.
“What did the doctor say?” Ada May demanded the same thing the professor had.
“Nothing, yet,” Micah answered. “They said it may be hours. The sheriff told me there was a bad cut on his head. Maybe some internal injuries. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
Beth Ann pulled out her crochet. “Then we wait.”
Ada May agreed. “We wait. No matter how long.” Only she wasn’t as good at sitting still as her sister. She paced. Organized the magazines. Got everyone coffee. And finally, started pestering anyone who walked by for news.
The sheriff came out from behind the doors marked Authorized Personnel Only and said Billy hadn’t regained consciousness yet. Old Doc Hamilton had been on backup call, since it was Sunday night. He’d taken one look at Billy’s head and had called his grandson, who was a specialist on brain injuries in Wichita Falls.