by Tanya Hanson
Pike breathed out hard one time as if he held tight to his patience.
“It’s a fairly straightforward diagnosis, Daisy. And chemotherapy is always tricky. Not to mention painful and expensive.” Pike seemed to choose his words with care. “Your mom is opposed to trying it, and I agree. In my opinion, it’s kinder to put Elway to sleep now rather than prolong the uncertainty.”
“Put him to sleep?” she repeated with a shriek. “Put him to sleep? Mom?” Terrified, she reached for her mother. For a moment, grief united them.
“It’s probably something we should consider seriously, honey.” Mom spoke slow and draped an arm around Daisy. Surprising them both, Daisy leaned into the caress. For a moment, maybe Mom really did care. About Daisy, she meant. Of course Mom loved the dog. “I keep remembering Doc Fahmy’s face last week when he showed me the X-ray,” Mom continued, “like he’d seen it before and knew what it meant. He was stunned, I could tell.”
“Last week?” Rage swallowed Daisy’s fear and distrust in a gulp. She pointed accusingly at her mom. “You knew about this?”
Mom grimaced with guilt. “Honey, he wasn’t eating, so I brought him in. I figured he’d got a hold of something that disagreed with him.”
“And said nothing to me?” Daisy spat the words bitterly before kneeling again at her dog’s side.
“Well, I never imagined this!” Her mother’s voice strangled the words.
Pike busied himself wiping a thermometer. “We can wait a couple of days,” he said finally. “Take Elway home. Be gentle. Take your pictures. Say your good-byes. Just be careful with him.”
Daisy’s fury exploded hotter this time. She stood, wishing she could glare at him eye-to-eye. But he was so tall; her face barely cleared his breastbone. “Gentle? Careful? What do you think I’m going to do, Pike?” She bent her head backward as far as it would go to look up at him. “Take him to an earthquake for search and rescue? Play tackle football?”
Pike turned away but stayed close enough for her to feel his heat. “Like I told your mom,” he said with deliberate care. “The hemangiosarcoma can rupture and cause hemorrhage. If that happens…” He reached for her chin and held her face. His gaze bored into hers. “If that happens, it would be a horrible way for Elway to go.”
His warm fingers caused her toes to tingle, so she stomped her foot, hoping he reckoned she was just mad. “Like I told you, I want to consult somebody else. I bet this is some stupid Martin conspiracy to pay me back for…for everything.”
Pike stepped away from her, his face paling with shock at her words.
“Mercy, Daisy. Can’t you ever mind that tongue of yours?” her mom whispered in horror. “Doc Martin is a most competent vet, and Doc Fahmy trusts him completely. What’s the matter with you?”
Daisy clamped her eyelids tight, trying to hide from another nightmare. But lately, they never stopped, not even in the daytime. Right now it had felt good to lash out at somebody else. With a stiff nod, Pike turned his back and scribbled on a clipboard.
Well, that was dismissal enough. Daisy gave her mom a brisk hug and led Elway into the bright late June afternoon. He galloped happily at her side, and she tried not to think of the bomb inside him that waited to burst. How could he romp about like nothing was wrong?
As she peered around the bustling little town, she relived only unhappy memories. She didn’t belong here, not any more. She’d grown up in nearby Promise but worked every summer at the Western-themed gift shop her mom owned in downtown Mountain Cove. Of course she’d known of the hunky collection of Martin brothers from Hearts Crossing ranch, but they were a bit older, and she’d hung around with her hometown clique anyway. When she’d moved to town to start the job teaching girls P.E. at Mountain Cove High, she’d met both Kenn Martin, who taught American Lit, and Tony O’Neal, the swim coach.
Bitterness as well as grief attacked her as she headed for Mountainview Park at the edge of town. Soon she would be all alone if what Pike said was true. She had to find another vet right away and figure out what to do.
She bit her lip. All alone. Mom and Pops had let her come home, but grudgingly. Even she knew how much she had embarrassed them then, running off like she had. How much she embarrassed them now, coming back.
As she sank onto a park bench, she wiped a tear and debated whether to let Elway off leash to sniff and roam. Pike had warned of hemorrhage, of rupture. He might be a Martin, but she had every reason to believe him. Elway hadn’t done anything wrong!
To help her out, Elway hunkered at her feet.
Ah, but Daisy had done something wrong. A lot of somethings. Mom tried to act normal, but Daisy reckoned her folks would rather her be any place else but Mountain Cove. Well, she had no choice for now. Last September, back in Fort Collins, she’d come home from a faculty retreat to an empty house and emptier bank account. And desolation beyond imagining. Oh, she’d known almost from the start that Tony wasn’t at all the husband of her dreams, but for three years, she had believed enough in the covenant of marriage to try to make it work.
And when it hadn’t, Tony O’Neal had taken along with him what was left of her trust in men as well as her faith in the Lord.
The Lord? She snorted and Elway looked up at her, head sideways like he was honestly interested.
“That’s right, pup.” She chuckled at him but the sound came out low and sad. “He’s taking it out on me because I eloped in front of some Las Vegas hack instead of a real pastor. Well, this little prodigal’s back home now. Like it or not, Mom,” she called into the wind.
Daisy shivered a little as the sun headed toward dusk. But not just because the temperature dropped. Her life was rushing on whether she liked it or not. Ink was fresh on the papers, the simplified divorce final. No property to divide. Eager to be done with Tony, she hadn’t disputed anything else. And while she’d never again be the girl she’d been, she had taken her name back.
She sighed. Right now, Mountain Cove was just a temporary stopgap in her mess of a life. After finding some sort of job hereabouts for the summer, she’d start substitute-teaching in September. Save her money and soon as she could, get out of Dodge.
But today, well, today belonged to Elway.
2
Pike flicked off the Christian music station as he pulled up to Hearts Crossing ranch. He wasn’t feeling much peace on earth and was definitely in no mood for more joyful noise. Jamming on the brakes in a cloud of dust by the barn, he slammed the door of his dust-crusted, black Silverado half-ton pickup truck as he got out.
“What? You lose a patient?” called out his brother Hooper, ranch foreman and the oldest of the eight. He loped over from the trio of covered wagons he’d been readying for another of Hearts Crossing’s Wild West Adventures. Fourteen city slickers would be arriving in the morning for a five-day pioneer wagon train experience along the foothills at the perimeter of the ranch.
Pike swallowed, wistful. Normally, he went along and loved every second of the trip. Not that he regretted his offer to help out Doc Fahmy, long his mentor. But today, his first, hadn’t been a good one.
“You could say that.” Pike leaned against a hitching post, circling his head around and stretching his neck to untie the knots. “Densmores’ dog has cancer.”
“Aw, nuts. Not Elway?”
“The very same.”
“Cool dog.” Hooper shook his head. “Can’t fix it, then?”
“Nope.” Pike sighed in regret. Hearts Crossing had several faithful, well-loved dogs at any given time. “No choice but to advise putting him down. And not just me. Nerces and I discussed it before he left for Egypt.” He unwound his shoulder muscles now. “You know how he believes in compassionate dignity, not last-ditch efforts at all costs.”
Hooper nodded this time. “I do. He was great when we lost Patches.” Both were quiet, recalling their Border collie. Finally Hoop cleared his throat. “Did you have to deal…with her?”
The way Hooper’s voice italicized the pronoun, Pike k
new exactly who he meant. A bitter taste stabbed the tip of his tongue. “Yep. And she accused me of some Martin conspiracy against her. Like I plan to kill her dog because she messed with our brother and made a fool of herself at the hoedown. Blast the woman.”
Hooper let out a long whistle between his teeth. “Now, now, she’s never been one to think before she flaps her lips. Make that think before she does anything at all. When she’s got her dander up about something, I don’t reckon she can help it.”
“Aw, Hoop. You’re too good to be true. You’d see good in a…in a gargoyle. She’s nothing but trouble.” Pike spoke hastily before remembrance of her soft and warm in his arms, all needy and fragrant, surfaced again. Far healthier to recall her vile, accusatory words.
Hoop’s hand on Pike’s shoulder was firm but gentle. “I been where she is, Pike. Don’t think any of us know what we’d do when we get walked out on. How we’d act. Who we’d take it out on.” He looked down at his toes. “Until it happens.”
The awful memory smacked at Pike, of Hooper’s wife abandoning him and their baby daughter five years ago. Somehow Hoop’s faith had kept him stable and sane, free from bitterness, and Pike didn’t know how his brother did it. Nothing seemed to shake him. “You’re right, Hoop. I’ve no idea how that feels. But alcohol?”
“I hear some folks take comfort in the bottle.” Hoop shrugged. “It’s dead wrong, but I don’t see myself as the Lord’s appointed judge. I reckon we ought to add Daisy to the prayer list at devotions tonight.”
His older brother’s words comforted Pike a little. “Elway, too.”
“Think Daisy’ll be at the reunion picnic next week?” Hoop asked out of nowhere.
Pike shrugged, wondering why his heart pounded. “I’d like to think not, but everybody always goes. And she’s bound to know Kenn won’t, him being in California helping Christy’s mom move.” Dusk had fallen deep around them. He muttered, “Wish I had time for a ride. Always find the world a better place with Outlaw underneath me.”
“Maybe you can ride that pinto of yours along with the wagons tomorrow morning for a bit before you head for town.”
“Maybe. Hey?” He looked at his brother intently. “You don’t mind being shorthanded for the next couple of wagon trains, do you?”
“Nah. Stuff happens. Nerces needs you. Christy’s mom needs her and Kenn.” He stretched his arms over his broad shoulders. “I know we all like family to participate in the trips as much as we can, but we all got our own lives now. Bragg and I got two wranglers to help out ’til you and Kenn are back in the saddle. One of them has EMT training so it’s all good, but I’m sure gonna miss you.” He touched the brim of his broad Stetson, and Pike grinned. A certified paramedic, Pike was medical official for most of the trips.
“Speaking of a sibling not going on a wagon train trip…” Hooper’s drawl came out slower than usual. He pointed straight at the chuck wagon. Their sister Kelley, a sous chef for a Denver restaurant, took time off her day job to take charge of the meals on the trips as “Cookie.” Her down-home, yet trendy, grub was renowned and one reason folks came back for repeat adventures.
“What? Kelley’s not going? She sick or something?”
Hooper’s cheeks rounded before he blew out a gust of air. “Nah, she’s set for tomorrow. For now. But she told me today she’s seriously thinking about buying a little restaurant in Sunset Hills. Be her own boss.”
“What?”
Hoop nodded, lips a thin smile.
Pike shivered as a little splinter of the world he knew crashed down. “But she’ll make time for the trips. Of course she will. She loves being chuck cook.”
“I dunno. She says restaurantin’ is 25 hours eight days a week. But she wants to give it a try. Sounds like a warning to me.”
Pike laid his face in his hands.
“It’ll be OK, Pike. It always is.”
And it always was. Hearts Crossing had survived near-bankruptcy. Losing Pa to cancer. Hoop’s heartbreak. Bragg’s misadventures with steroids. Still, Pike didn’t like the possibility.
They headed toward the big ranch house. “We’re all grown up now. Kel already lives in Denver most times. It’s not so weird for kids to want to leave home and try new things.”
“Like you?” Pike relaxed and guffawed. “Your house is about fifty yards from the one you grew up in.” One hand gestured at the big house, the other pointing to the little modular bungalow sided with logs that Pa had brought in when Hoop married Lynn.
“Why, an eye for an eye, little brother. You’re still sleeping in your childhood bedroom. With your horsey-print bedspread.”
“Oh, blow it out your ear.” He gave Hoop a playful brotherly punch on the triceps. “Ma got rid of that one years ago. It’s something from Ralph Lauren now. Although I admit there’s a pony somewhere.” He sighed, not letting Daisy Densmore inside the door to his mind. “Someday I’ll have my own house on the place, like you. If I can ever find Miss Perfect.”
“Miss Perfect? Nobody’s perfect. Just ask me. Besides, you mean, Miss Needy.”
“What?”
“Isn’t that why you dumped Sandy? Because Miss Modern Woman didn’t ‘need you?’” Hoop sing-songed the last two words.
Pike’s face warmed at the recollection of the young woman who had stolen his heart a few years back. But he’d gotten it back quick enough.
“I broke up with Sandy because she didn’t want kids. She was way, way too emphatic about it. Ms. Sandy Modern Woman Tabris on the fast track said kids would derail her plan. And of course I want somebody to need me, and I want to be needed back.”
With an eye roll, Hoop shouted joyously, “Hey, I think that’s Ma’s enchiladas I smell!”
Pike’s mouth watered, but this time, a flash of Daisy Densmore’s tragic face flickered behind his eyelids, and he hated his lack of self-control.
Somebody to need me.
****
In the sunset, Daisy’s red Mustang rumbled up the road to her parents’ ten acre ranchette, Elway sound asleep in the back seat. As she parked and grabbed her filled reusable grocery bags, her heart tumbled with love and grief at sight of him. Pike Martin was of course right, and she’d been too stubborn and snippy to let him know, to apologize.
And stubborn and snippy she’d likely remain. Those arms of his around her last week had felt too good. She needed any and every reason she could muster to avoid him.
Of course, that way, Mom would have rudeness to count against her.
The rustling shopping bags woke Elway, and he gleefully followed Daisy into the house. Then again, it just might be the scent of the ground sirloin she planned to cook up for his supper. It was always his birthday treat, but he wouldn’t be having another, so she was determined to spoil him now. Every single night until…
In the meantime, though, he glared at her balefully when she pointed to his soft sheepskin bed in the corner of the breakfast room. Suppertime was a ways off, and she got started on one of her specialties that she knew her father was going to love.
While she chopped up a storm, Pops came into the kitchen with his coffee mug. Surprise racked his weather-worn face. For years, he’d wrangled every day in the great outdoors at the Silver Spur ten miles south of Promise before affording his own little ranch and small herd of cutting horses. She knew her retreat from the fresh, wide outdoors of Mountain Cove to the hustle-bustle of Fort Collins had been just one of the factors that had confused and hurt him.
“I can hear that car of yours for five miles,” he joked, giving her a stiff hug as he reached for his Keurig single-cup coffee brewer. “Best present I ever got you. What are you up to, sugar?”
“Mom told you about Elway?”
“’Course. She called soon as she got back to the shop.” Grey eyes troubled, he glanced at the dog. “Sure gonna miss that pup.”
The words started up a new ache in her gullet. “Well, cooking is how I relieve stress,” she managed. Saddling up was another, but it was too dark to
go for a ride. Ah, she’d missed her horse bad in Fort Collins. And she still had to peruse the yellow pages for another suitable vet. It sure sounded like she better get Elway into see one, pronto.
“Never thought you much of a kitchen gal,” Pops mused as the coffee maker hissed. Well, he was right.
“I’ve gotten really good.” She smiled at him. Something of a daddy’s girl, she understood his disappointment in her, but she also remembered getting away with murder as a kid and reckoned he had forgiveness somewhere in him, and likely not long off. Mom was the bitter, resentful one despite spending every Sunday morning in the front row at Mountainview Community Church. “This is my version of chicken fajitas, and you’re going to love it.”
“Appreciate it. You sure didn’t learn cooking from your mom.”
Oddly she felt suddenly protective of her mother. “Aw, Pops. She’s always so busy at the shop.”
“Not criticizing her. Never been too picky myself. Chuck house at the Silver Spur. Take-out and microwave here at home. Her fish sticks tacos are pretty good, though.”
She chuckled. “You’re right about that. I remember whipping them up in the dorm room.”
“And look at you now!” Pops gestured at the piles of chopped vegetables and spices, the fry pan heating up olive oil. The quizzical way he looked at her required an explanation.
“Well, not to bring up a sore subject, but…but Tony wanted a hot meal every night.” Her smile faded, and the bitterness simmered. “No matter I taught and coached as many hours as he did. So…I learned, and I have gotten good. I can pretty much make something out of nothing. Started out quick, easy. Like Mom taught me.” She forced a laugh. “Then I watched enough Food Channel to get pretty creative and fancy. I even took cooking classes at the university extension.”
“Worked. Smells great. But, sugar…that’s why folks get to know one another before…before.” His voice shook and he spent longer than he needed adding a mocha toffee coffee creamer to his mug. In better times, they would have shared a laugh at the girly flavor.