Come Sundown

by Nora Roberts

  “If you were punched or slapped every morning before making your bed—”

  “I’d make it faster,” Maureen finished.

  “Can I ask a question?”

  Celia turned her deep brown eyes on Bodine. “Of course.”

  “She had children. Has she said anything about them? I can’t get them out of my head.”

  “She said Sir took them away, their father took them away. She became despondent and withdrawn when we approached the subject. I won’t probe there again until we’ve built up more of a relationship. She has accepted your mother—not as her mother, but as a companion and an authority figure. She also looks to Sheriff Tate, and seems to trust him as far as she trusts anyone.”

  “She and Bob were friendly,” Maureen told her. “Might’ve been a bit more than friendly for a while.”

  “Yes, he told me. She’s accepted Dr. Grove, though she continues to become agitated during exams, and can be jittery with the nurses. But she’s obedient. She eats when she’d brought food, sleeps when she’s told to rest, showers when she’s told to. Who thought of bringing her mother’s crocheting in?”

  “Bo did.”

  “Well, it’s excellent therapy for both of them. Cora’s teaching Alice to crochet, and they’re spending time quietly that way. It’s good for both of them. It’s going to take time, Maureen. I wish I could tell you how much time.”

  “She can’t stay in that room forever. Neither can my mother.”

  “No, you’re right. Physically she’s recovered enough to be released. Dr. Grove and I have discussed a rehabilitation center.”

  “Celia, she needs to come home. My mother will end up sleeping in her room at another kind of hospital just as she is here. We can take care of Alice at home.”

  “Home care, considering her condition, is a complicated and demanding enterprise. You need to understand just what that would mean, for Alice, and for all of you.”

  “You could recommend nurses or aides as long as she needs them. You could continue to treat her. We’d bring her to you every day if you say she needs it. I’ve thought it through. It might spark something in her. Her home, her views, Clementine and Hec—they work for us, and did when Alice and I were teenagers. Wouldn’t what’s familiar help her, and the normal of it?”

  “She couldn’t be left unattended in her current state of mind. She could wander off, Maureen. There’s medication to administer, and there’s, most importantly, a need not to press her, not to overwhelm her.”

  On a nod, Maureen rubbed at her temple again. “I’ve been reading as much as I can find, and I think I have those broad strokes. You and Dr. Grove tell me what needs to be done, and not to be done. We’ll abide by it. I know I can take her home without your permission, but I don’t want to do that. And I don’t want to put my sister in a psychiatric hospital—because that’s what you mean by ‘rehabilitation center’—until I’ve tried to bring her home.”

  “She needs to agree. She needs to feel she has some control.”

  “All right.”

  “Driving her back and forth for sessions is far too much stimulation, too overwhelming. If she and Dr. Grove agree, I’ll agree to a week trial. I need to come to her, talk to her every day. You’ll need round-the-clock psychiatric nurses until I’m convinced she’s adjusting and won’t harm herself.”

  “Harm herself?”

  “She’s not suicidal,” Celia said. “But she could inadvertently harm herself. Your mother should be close by.”

  “She and my grandmother will both move to the ranch for as long as they need to.”

  “Let’s start here.” Celia rose. “Come down with me and see her, talk to her.”

  “I—I thought I wasn’t allowed to yet.”

  “Now you are.”

  “Oh, I— Give me a second.” Maureen held up a hand, palm out. “You threw that one at me too quick.”

  “She’ll throw more.”

  “I know it. That one just knocked the wind out of me for a minute.” But she rose. “Bodine.”

  “I’ll be right here. I’m going to call Clementine, and have her fix up the room for Alice. It’ll be ready for her when we bring her home.”

  “Bodine, you’re my rock. All right, Celia.”

  The walk down the hospital corridor seemed endless, and far too quick. “I’m nervous.”

  “That’s natural.”

  “I want to ask if I look all right, and I know just how foolish that sounds.”

  “You do, and that’s natural, too. You’re going to be shocked at how she looks, Maureen. Try not to show it.”

  “I’ve been told already.”

  “Being told and seeing for yourself are different. Keep your voice calm, call her Alice, tell her who you are. She probably won’t remember you, at least not consciously. It’s a deep block, Maureen.”

  “And it’ll take time, I heard that.” Taking a deep breath, Maureen waited for Celia to open the door, lead the way in.

  They could have told her a hundred times, and nothing would have prepared her for her sister’s transformation. The shock hit her belly like a fist, but she held back the gasp.

  Because her hands trembled, she slipped them into her pockets, hoping it looked casual.

  The Alice who’d come back sat up in the bed, long graying hair neatly braided, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she carefully worked with a crochet hook and green yarn.

  Their mother sat in a chair, working a more complex pattern with variegated blues.

  They worked in comfortable silence.

  “Alice, Cora.”

  Alice’s fingers stopped, curled tight at Celia’s voice. And her eyes latched on Maureen’s face.

  Her shoulders hunched, her chin dipped.

  “I’ve brought you a visitor.”

  “I’m making a scarf. I’m making a green scarf. Visitors aren’t allowed.”

  “They’re allowed now.”

  “I like the green.” Maureen heard her own words, swallowed the tremor in her voice before she took a few steps forward. “I like to crochet, too. Ma taught me.” Maureen bent down, kissed Cora’s cheek, and with her hand on Cora’s shoulder smiled at the woman staring at her. “It’s so good to see you, Alice. I’m your sister, Maureen. I look different than I did before.”

  “I need to make the scarf.”

  “You go ahead. Ma braided your hair, didn’t she? It looks nice.”

  “Women are vain creatures, painting false faces to seduce men with lustful thoughts.”

  “We’re made in God’s image,” Cora said calmly as she continued to work. “I’d think God wants us to present a pleasing image when we can. And he said to go forth and propagate, so a little lust helps that along, doesn’t it? Those stitches are nice and even, Alice.”

  Alice looked down at them, and Maureen saw her lips try to curve. “It’s good?”

  “It’s very good. You learn quick, always did. I never could get you to sit still long enough to learn needlework when you were little.”

  “I was bad. Spare the rod, spoil the child.”

  “Don’t be silly. You were just rambunctious. You did like planting flowers, had a creative hand with that. I loved when you and Reenie would plant your sister garden.”

  “Impatiens and geraniums,” Maureen began.

  “Reenie, Reenie, Reenie,” Alice muttered. “Always bossing, always better.”

  “Alice, Alice, Alice,” Maureen echoed over her hammering heart. “Always pushy, always bitchy.”

  Eyes narrowed, Alice looked up. And though her throat went dry, Maureen held the stare, and smiled. “I’m still glad to see you, Alice.”

  “Reenie never liked Alice.”

  “I wouldn’t say never. There were times I didn’t like you, but you were always my sister. I still plant the garden, the sister garden in the spring. Impatiens and geraniums, sweet alyssum and sweet peas.”

  “Snapdragons. I like red ones.”

  Now her eyes burned, seemed to
throb with the tears pushing behind them. “I still plant the red ones.”

  “I have to finish this, I have to do a good job. Flowers don’t feed anybody. No point in planting flowers. Vain as women, and as useless.”

  “Bees need them. Birds, too.” Cora reached out, squeezed Maureen’s hand. “They’re God’s creatures.”

  “Sir said no flowers!” She snapped out the words. “You plant beans and carrots, potatoes in the barrels, cabbage and tomatoes. And you hoe and you weed, and you water if you know what’s good for you. It’s almost planting time. I have to get back. I have to finish this scarf.”

  Celia touched Maureen’s arm, but Maureen wasn’t finished. Not quite yet. “I could use help with the planting. The kitchen garden and the flowers.”

  “Sir said no flowers.” A tear slipped down Alice’s cheek as she worked fiercely with the hook. “If you say please, he has to hit you to show you what no means.”

  “We have them on the ranch. Would you like to come home, Alice, and plant with me where no one will hit you?”

  “Back to my house?”

  “Back to the ranch, back to your home. Plant the sister garden with me again.”

  “God punishes the wicked.”

  Maureen fervently hoped so. “But not sisters, Alice. Not sisters who plant flowers together and tend them, who watch them grow. Come home, Alice. Nobody’ll hit you again.”

  “You hit me.”

  “You usually hit me first, and you’re not supposed to tell Ma.”

  More tears spilled, but through them some of Alice showed through. “I don’t know what’s real.”

  “That’s okay. I know you are. You go ahead and work on that scarf. I’ll come back later and see how it looks.”

  Maureen stepped back.

  “You cut your hair.”

  It took all her will to keep her hand from shaking as she brushed it over her own hair. “Do you like it?”

  “I … Women aren’t supposed to cut their hair.”

  “That’s all right, Alley Cat,” Cora said. “Not all rules are real, that’s for certain. Some are just made-up. Reenie, would you see if they’ll bring us some tea? We like our mid-morning tea, don’t we, Alice?”

  Alice nodded, went back to her scarf.

  The minute Maureen stepped back, she pressed her hands to her face. Expecting the reaction, Celia put arms around her. “You did great. You did better than I expected. She remembered you.”

  “She remembered I was bossy. I guess I was.”

  “She remembered her sister, a dynamic. She remembered red snapdragons. She’ll remember more. This was a good thing, Maureen.”

  “He twisted the life out of her, Celia.”

  “He tried, but it’s still there, and coming back. You just held a therapy session, Maureen, with really positive results.”

  “She can come home?”

  “Let me talk to Dr. Grove. We need to work out the rules of the road, and you need that professional in-home help for right now. But I think if you’re careful, if you’re patient, continuing her recovery at home might be a good step.

  “I’ll tell her nurse about the tea. Go get your daughter, take a walk.”

  “I could use one, and I’m about to lean on Bo pretty hard.”

  “She strikes me as someone who can handle that.”

  Maureen nodded. “She’s in there, Celia. Alice is in there.”

  The next twenty-four hours spun around Alice again, this time for her homecoming.

  * * *

  In the ring, Bodine held the mare’s bridle.

  “I know you don’t have time for this.” Jessica strapped on her riding helmet. “You’ve got a backlog of work you’re catching up on, and if you have a free hour—which you don’t—you should take a nap.”

  “I don’t argue with Nana, and she pinned me down hard about giving you a lesson. She says you’re not to miss another one. Our world’s upside down, Jessie. This is normal. I could use an hour of normal more than a nap.”

  “I wish I could do more to help.”

  “You’ve taken on more of Rory’s work, and Mom’s, just like Sal’s taken on more of mine. Callen’s spent damn near as much time at the hospital as any of the rest of us. We’ve had plenty of help.”

  Bodine leaned her cheek against the mare’s. “I don’t know if it’s going to be easier or harder after today. Mom and the grannies are determined she comes home today, and they’re probably right. The doctors say it may help trigger her memory. And God knows we all want her to remember enough so Sheriff Tate can find this bastard.

  “I haven’t even met her yet. I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around her.”

  “You’ll know what to do.”

  “I feel like I don’t have the first clue. But I do know what to do here. Mount up.”

  Chase came in while Jessica rode at a pretty canter around the ring. It lightened up his heart. Just looking at her did that—it seemed like years since he had—but seeing her ride, smiling with it, added an extra glow.

  The past week had been like dragging through molasses. Everything dark and syrupy, just push through one step to the next, grab some sleep, start again.

  Now the light was back for him.

  Jessica slowed to a walk at Bodine’s instruction.

  “You’ve got an audience,” Bodine said, grinning at Chase.

  “I don’t want to get in the way.”

  “If you were in the way, I’d boot you out. As it is, you can take over the lesson. It’s time the greenhorn here rode outside the ring.”

  “Oh, but—”

  “Nana said the second half of the hour to take you out. You can ride with her, can’t you, Chase?”

  “Yeah, I can. I’ve got an hour.”

  “Great. I’m going to ride back to the office then, hit that backlog.”

  She rode straight out before anyone could stop her.

  “She dumped me on you.”

  Chase walked over, took the bridle. Took a moment to just look at her, with her sunny hair down and loose under her helmet, her eyes blue and clear. “It’s sure good to see you.”

  “How are you?”

  “I’m going to say a little tired, and more than a little mixed-up. Taking a ride with you, it’ll be good, help on both those fronts.”

  “Then we’ll ride. I’m a little nervous about not having the ring, the walls.”

  “I think you’re going to like being out in the air.” Still holding the bridle, he walked her horse over to his. “I’m sorry I haven’t—since we … I don’t want you to think—”

  “That I took advantage of you, and you ran off?”

  His head jerked up, his face stunned and not a little horrified.

  “Chase, I know what your family’s going through. I didn’t think anything like that.”

  “I’d hate if you did.” When he swung into the saddle, she noticed the purple irises poking out of his saddlebag.

  “Are those flowers for me or my horse?”