Her Cowboy Reunion

by Ruth Logan Herne

  “Tell everyone I’ll call to let them know what’s going on.”

  He started the engine, turned the car around, and was heading down the driveway as the rescue chopper roared back to life.

  And then they were gone, the beat of the chopper blades leaving a dull thudding noise as the copter headed south.

  She stared after the chopper, then Heath’s car, then the helicopter again as it faded from sight.

  She couldn’t stay here, waiting. Heath might not want her with him, but she couldn’t stay hours away while that blessed child fought for his life.

  “Corrie.” She turned as Corrie came up next to her. “I’ve got to go.”

  Corrie didn’t pretend to hide her concern. “I know, Lizzie-Beth. I know. But do you think it’s best, darlin’?”

  “Twelve years ago I lay in a strange room, in a strange hospital, all alone while my baby passed away. I can’t risk Heath being alone right now. He’s got every reason in the world to hate me for risking his son,” she admitted, “but I can’t leave him there alone. I’ve got to go to the hospital, Corrie.”

  “Then we go.” Corrie turned toward the house to collect what she’d need.

  Lizzie jutted her chin toward the house. “The dog. Betsy. We can’t leave her alone.”

  “I’d forgotten.”

  Lizzie hurried into the house to retrieve her keys and purse. “You stay here. Stay with her, okay?”

  “But...”

  “Please?” She grabbed her keys and tucked her purse over her arm. “Don’t leave her to have those babies alone. Okay?”

  “You’ll be all right?” Concern shaded Corrie’s tone, but understanding shone in her eyes.

  “I will.” Lizzie started the engine, then faced her sweet mentor. “Because I have to be.”

  “We will be praying for all. Drive safely.”

  “I will.”

  She turned south on the two-lane, determined. Heath might hate her for this tragic accident. She would deal with that as needed. But she understood the grief of facing loss all alone. No way was she about to let Heath...her hardworking, imperfect beloved...endure the same thing.

  * * *

  Zeke.

  Heath’s heart pounded as he hurried through the ER doors. He sprinted to the desk, gave Zeke’s name, and raced down the hall once he had directions.

  “And you are?” A middle-aged woman blocked his way to Zeke’s curtained cubicle.

  “His father. Are you his nurse?”

  The woman pierced him with a look before she sighed, pretending offense. “I’m his doctor. You did well sending him by chopper even though it’s a pricey form of taxi. We did a quick scan and see nothing really bad.”

  “But he’s unconscious, isn’t he?”

  She drew the curtain back so Heath could see. “Sleeping now. And he might sleep all day. It’s the brain’s defense against injury so the body can concentrate on healing. He’s got a broken wrist that we’ve splinted,” she explained softly as she moved into the small, curtained room. “You’ll need to have him see an orthopedic doctor in about three days. Do you have an ortho near your home?”

  They had next to nothing near the ranch, he realized anew.

  What if Zeke had died because there was no medical help nearby?

  She must have mistaken his hesitation for confusion because she made a quick note before looking up again. “Never mind, I’ll give you a few names. You might have to travel an hour or so but if there’s ice cream involved at the end of the trip, it’s not so bad. All in all I’d say he’s a pretty fortunate boy.”

  “How is falling from a tree considered fortunate?”

  She brushed that off as she wrote something else in a handheld computer. “Having trees to climb. Places to explore. Things to do. These days too many kids are inside, playing on devices. Boys and girls should have adventurous spirits, shouldn’t they? Unless we want to raise them in a bubble.”

  He stared at her, then Zeke. “Right now the bubble sounds good,” he admitted and the doctor laughed.

  “I bet it does, but this will give him stories to tell later on. It does bear caution, though. Once a kid has had a concussion, the likelihood for another one is elevated. Just keep that in mind, but don’t curtail his curiosity because of it. I’ll be back in a little while, but so far, so good. There’s a very uncomfortable chair right here.” She pointed to it and made a face. “Unfortunately that’s all we’ve got available. The nurses will keep checking in.”

  “I don’t care about the chair. As long as he’s going to be all right, I’m fine.”

  The doctor left. Five minutes later, the curtain opened again. He looked up, expecting to see a nurse, but it wasn’t a nurse.

  It was Lizzie.

  She stood at the curtain’s edge, watching Zeke, then winced when Zeke winced. “How is he?”

  “The doctor said he’s going to be fine. But he might be sleeping here for hours.” He stood up and crossed to her. “Did you drive here on your own?”

  “Like you did. Yes.”

  Because he’d been too crazed to have her drive along. What was the matter with him? “I should have just brought you with me,” he told her. “I wasn’t thinking. All I could think of was that chopper, whisking my boy away and no one would be here to greet him. None of his family, that is. So I rushed away, but we should have come together. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right.” But it wasn’t all right, because it was her responsibility to watch the little guy and she’d failed. Failed miserably. “As long as he’s going to be okay. Are you sure about that?” If she felt as guilt-stricken as she looked, she was feeling really bad right now, and that wasn’t fair.

  “Doctor’s words,” he assured her. “The EMT was right about the broken wrist. It will put a dent in his summer activities, but it’s fixable.”

  “Good. Good.” She reached out a hand to Zeke’s shoulder. Tears filled her eyes, and a few slipped over.

  “Liz.”

  “I’m fine, really.” She sniffled and he grabbed a few tissues from a small box and thrust them her way. “You know what they say. It’s all right to cry after the emergency. Not during.”

  “You’ve never been much of a crier, Liz. Ever.”

  “Well, there’s some truth in that. I suppose it depends on the situation,” she finished as she swiped her cheeks. “This guy’s worth a few tears.”

  “Aren’t all kids?”

  This time she raised her head. She stared at him as if he’d grown two heads. A flash of anger, or maybe disappointment, changed her expression, and then she faced him, dead-on. “Yes, Heath. All kids should be loved, cherished, cared for and mourned. Regardless of the circumstances surrounding them.”

  “Lizzie—” He started to move her way, confused, but she held up a hand. He stopped.

  “Don’t ‘Lizzie’ me. Where were you twelve years ago when your first son passed away? Where were you when I was in that wretched little hospital, trying to save Matthew’s life, and failed? Where were you when I begged for help, for you to come and stand by me as I miscarried? Because I understand your love for Zeke, Heath. I really do. But where was this love when our tiny baby died? Because I sure could have used a dose of it back then.”

  Her words shell-shocked him.

  He stared at her, unable to digest and believe what he was hearing. “You didn’t end our pregnancy on purpose?”

  She recoiled as if slapped, then started to move away.

  He stepped in her way. “Liz, talk to me. Please. I had no idea that you didn’t end the pregnancy. Your father and grandfather told me they’d sent you off to have it terminated so you wouldn’t mess up your freshman year at Yale.”

  “And you believed them?”

  He hadn’t thought she could look more disappointed and disillusioned, but he was wrong. So wr
ong, because the minute she said the words, he realized the truth. Lizzie—his Lizzie—wouldn’t have done such a thing, so why had he believed their lies? Because he was guilt-stricken over what happened?

  He’d figure that out later. Right now he needed to talk to her. Sort this out. Beg forgiveness. “There was no way to get in touch with you. I tried. They’d taken your phone and no one would give me any information. Including Corrie. When Sean called me and offered me a job up here, I came north to start a new life. Liz, I’m sorry. So dreadfully, horribly sorry. I don’t even know what to say to you right now to make this better because I can’t make it better.”

  * * *

  He looked penitent. And sad. Concern drew his brows together, and he looked as if he really cared, but she knew better. “I called you. When things went bad, I called you, over and over. You didn’t answer and you didn’t return my messages. I faced losing that baby, our baby, all by myself, and I lost a part of myself with him. No.” She stepped back when Heath made a move to embrace her. “Don’t touch me. I thought I knew you, Heath.”

  “Lizzie, you did. You do.” He kept his voice soft to match hers as Zeke slept on.

  “The young man I fell in love with would never have believed I could do such a thing. He would never accept the idea that I would terminate a life.”

  He started to move forward again, but she slipped to the side, and out of the cubicle.

  She wouldn’t let him see her break down.

  She wouldn’t let him have the chance to offer words of comfort now because she’d needed them then. She’d needed them so badly that her heart broke for lack of it.

  She crossed the ER, then the parking lot, then climbed into her car.

  She’d meant to stay with him while Zeke mended, but she couldn’t. Not now.

  He probably thought his excuse was understandable, but it wasn’t. Weeks had passed from when she was sent away to when the pregnancy failed. He could have—

  She steered toward the road as her conscience kicked into high gear.

  Could have what? He was thrown out with nothing but the clothes he had. Where would he be now if Sean hadn’t offered him help? And how did Sean know to offer that help?

  Corrie.

  She drove back toward the ranch, and used the two-hour drive to frame the questions she had for Corrie, starting with how Heath had gotten his job at Pine Ridge Ranch...

  And why Corrie had kept it a secret all these years.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Corrie was on the side porch when Lizzie parked her SUV alongside the house. She exited the car, slammed the door and pounded up the steps. She faced Corrie, the only mother figure she’d known for over twenty-five years, and threw down the gauntlet. “You knew Heath was here all along, didn’t you?”

  Corrie faced her from the wide-seated rocker. She studied Lizzie for a long, slow moment, then nodded. “I asked Sean to give him a chance. I told him what happened and how your father and grandfather had thrown him out with nothing. No paycheck, no chance to gather things, no chance to say goodbye to you. Absolutely nothing, all because he had the audacity to fall in love with you. That’s the kind of men they were, and Heath’s own father wasn’t one bit better.” She sighed and folded her hands into her lap.

  “Sean was different. He’d always been different. He took the money he’d inherited and invested it. Then he spent years working the land, working here, to build something unique. Something so far away from publishing that the wheeling and dealing of Fitzgerald News Company couldn’t touch him. I figured if Heath had a chance to see what a real man stands for, it would be good for him. And it would give you a chance to grow up a little.”

  She’d made these decisions without telling Liz. Without giving her a choice. Pressure-cooker anger built inside her. “You never told me. And you never told him about Matthew. He thought I terminated the pregnancy on purpose.”

  Corrie didn’t back down and didn’t look one bit guilty. “Isn’t that a thing in itself? That he’d believe lies like that back then? Because he shouldn’t have believed them, Lizzie. I expect he knows that now.”

  “You could have told me where he was.”

  Corrie frowned. “I could have. But to what end? He needed to grow up. He needed to see what a good man does, how a good man stands by his family in thick and thin. You were giving Matthew up for adoption, you’d made that decision and it was a noble one. And then circumstances took it all out of our hands when that tiny fellow went home to God. And there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t imagine sitting in heaven one day, rockin’ that boy and telling him what a wonderful mother and father he had. Just in case he doesn’t know it. I’ll share Beulah Land with him and your sweet mama. May God forgive me my mistakes, but then the good Lord knows the reasons for them. And that’s for certain.”

  “I needed him, Corrie,” she pressed. “When that baby passed from me, I needed Heath there. With me. By my side. And you thwarted that.” She couldn’t believe the words as she said them, that her beloved Corrie, the woman who’d loved her all along, who’d come to her side when called, didn’t tell her where Heath was.

  Corrie stood and faced her. Regret and unshed tears marked her face. “You’d called him. You’d called him over and over and he didn’t come. He didn’t call back. And you were in such anguish and pain that I had to decide what was best for you. I couldn’t help baby Matthew. And I’d done what I thought best and helpful for Heath, by having Sean offer him a job, but when he didn’t have the courtesy to answer your phone calls or return your messages, I got angry. Angry at him for not making himself available the way he should have. Angry at him for putting you in that situation. From that day on I never contacted Sean or checked on Heath until we drove up this driveway. And that’s the truth of the matter.”

  She stood strong and solid, a woman of compassion and commitment, a woman who’d stood by the three daughters in her care no matter what.

  But the thought that one phone call might have changed everything soured Lizzie’s heart. She turned and went down the stairs. She crossed the yard, entered the first barn and brought Honey’s Money into the prep area.

  She saddled her with quick hands and no mind to where she’d go or what she’d do. Just mind enough to know that she thought better on horseback.

  She led the horse into the yard.

  Corrie was no longer on the porch. No one was about.

  No matter.

  She climbed into the saddle and let the horse walk an easy pace toward the ridge. Once they were in the mowed field, she let the mare have her head and they ran. They ran across the freshly mowed hay lot, across the lower ridge, wide and flat, until the ridge dipped down. She slowed the horse and followed the descent until she found herself in the middle of the failing town.

  The old pastor was just leaving the church. He saw her on horseback and stared, surprised. Then he chuckled low and waved her over.

  What choice did she have?

  The last thing she wanted to do was talk to anyone, and yet the path had brought her here, into the center of town. She dismounted, caught the reins, and walked his way. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It was a start, for sure,” the old man laughed. “I haven’t seen anyone ride a horse into town in years, and then it was scarce enough. There are hitching posts right over there. You see ’em?”

  She turned and noticed the trio of posts up the road apiece. “An odd place for them, isn’t it?”

  “Not odd, considering the post office and general store used to stand right there. The Middletons have pictures of it, nothing all that grand, but solid like they used to build them. And Western-looking with a wide porch, all covered so the lady shoppers would be all right while the farmer husbands had to load grain from the back in the rain, snow and sun. They did right by the ladies, wantin’ to take care of them first in those days. It’s a
cowboy way, and a good one.”

  He held a set of boxes in his hands. She tied Honey’s Money to the hitching post and put out her hands. “May I help you, Reverend?”

  “I won’t say no,” he told her. “I’m heading back to my place.” He motioned north. “Standin’ in one place bothers my hip. Once it’s in motion, it’s right enough, but standin’ still makes it act up.”

  “I don’t mind a walk.”

  They walked side by side, toward the far end of town. “You said last week that you’re retiring again, which means you retired before. Correct?”

  “Twice.” The admission seemed to amuse him. “I can’t seem to stay still, and I hoped coming here would make a difference. To the town, to the people. It’s been on a downward trend for a while, losing folks to other places, towns with jobs. I kept thinking that if we could just start the ball rolling the other way, and gather momentum, we could catch the remaining pieces before it all falls apart.”

  “But it didn’t work out that way,” she observed, and he turned her way quickly, surprising her.

  “But it did!” he exclaimed, smiling. “Not in the manner I expected, but then that’s the way of things, isn’t it? The good Lord sees beyond the bends in the road while we humans see the straight and narrow.

  “So it’s working fine, don’t you think?” he asked her and when she looked surprised, he angled his chin toward her, then the town. “You’re here. You’ve got other family heading this way. You got Heath to meet up with the other ranchers in town, now there’s a solid group of stubborn men determined to go their own ways. And I haven’t seen attendance at church or a memorial service like we had this weekend, so something’s working, young lady. Something filled with faith and hope, and I think part of that is you. And Miss Corrie that came along with you. When I heard that Eric Carrington took some time away from his fancy horses and cattle to talk with regular folks, that was a big step in the right direction from where I’m standing. Oh, there’s change brewing, Miss Lizzie Fitzgerald. And you’re in the thick of it. Now if we can have folks learn to forgive and forget. To move on and not hold grudges.” He swept the faltering town a long, slow look. “Well, that’s my prayer right there.”