Texas Strong Page 4
Stella clucked her tongue. “Exactly how big a mess did you leave?”
“Pretty bad, I guess. But hey, things seem to be quieting down, so I’ll just head home—”
They both heard the sirens. Jake sighed. On his way to triage, he paused at the nurses’ station and spoke to the unit secretary. “Connie, if you’ll do me this favor, I’ll owe you my life.”
Connie’s face brightened. “Anything, Dr. Cameron.”
“Order a dozen red roses sent to my wife—no, take that back, make it two—no, three.” He scanned from one woman to the next. “Too much? What color says I’m sorry best?”
Nurses exchanged glances. Heads were shaking. “If you need three dozen to get you out of a jam,” one said, “then all the roses in the world won’t be enough.”
“You don’t understand my wife,” he insisted. “She’s a champ. She’s sensitive to how important my work is.”
“Uh-huh,” said another. They walked off, chuckling.
The doors to the unit burst open, and one, then two gurneys raced inside. Jake felt the familiar surge of adrenaline ride roughshod over every other emotion. “Three dozen, Connie. With a note that says I’m sorry and I’ll take care of everything.” He was snapping on his gloves. “How about you? Got the name of a good cleaning service?”
“You made the mess,” Stella said from behind him. “You’d best be the one to clean it up.”
“Right—you’re right. I left a note and told her I would. I just thought—”
“My advice, Doc? Don’t think. Get ready to grovel.”
“Laura and I—we’re solid. We’ll be fine.”
Then there was no time, only blood and pain and decisions to be made lightning-fast. So fast you felt more alive than at any other moment.
Chrissy’s car struggled to pull the small trailer that held all her worldly goods. She wasn’t sure there was room for everything, but she wanted her belongings close if this didn’t work out.
She couldn’t bear to think of that happening. She was tired of drifting along, making do, scrambling to keep their heads above water as she paid the price for her past decisions. She deserved to suffer for her mistakes, but her sweet babies didn’t.
Oh, of course, Laura and Jake would rescue them if everything fell apart; that she rebuffed their offers of help bothered them both. But Laura had done everything right in her life, and Chrissy had done everything wrong.
She glanced into the back seat where Becky was reading, as always, and Thad was having an energetic conversation with two of his action figures.
Her beautiful children hadn’t been a mistake. They were possibly the only things she’d done right with her life, and she was determined to deserve them. From here on out, she would make certain that life improved for these two sweet souls entrusted to her care. The first step was making a home in Sweetgrass Springs. Her younger self would have had a big laugh at the notion that living in a small town could ever be a dream. That girl had longed for action and drama and as much noise as she could cram into a day.
At thirty-four, however, she craved peace and stability. She wanted to belong somewhere, wanted her children to feel safe. All she had to do was think of the slight pinch of a frown that haunted Becky’s elfin features, worry lines that should never appear on a child’s face. Thad barreled through life unaware of all that could go wrong, but Becky…her little girl knew, even if Chrissy didn’t admit it, how close to the edge they’d skirted.
Eight was far too young to take on adult worries, and Chrissy would never forgive herself that her eldest had borne them.
Now she wanted, more than her next breath, to make this work, to give her children a real home, roots from which they could grow strong and feel secure at last. She knew she was a loving mother, but she’d failed them so often in other ways. She longed for her children to know that they could plan ahead and be certain that they’d spend the Fourth of July and then Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas in the same place…this year and the next and the next. She wanted them to have classmates they would grow up with and ties to the whole town. Wanted them never to doubt again where they’d lay their heads or to wonder if the money would hold out until the next payday.
She was a hard worker, and she could stretch a dime until it screamed. She could do that forever, if she had to. But lordy, she was tired. Tired of making do. Tired of being afraid.
Sweetgrass and her job here was the answer, somehow she knew that. Here she could build, could make the life her children deserved. Maybe it wasn’t the thrill a minute her younger self had needed, but her thrills were different now. They were all about easy smiles on her children’s faces, about earning enough to make ends meet. About having a place of her own where she could plant a garden. Where she could even have friends for herself.
As she thought about the future and its possibilities, within her grew a peace, a seedling of possibility, a nugget of hope—
“Mommy, what’s that smell?”
Abruptly she realized that something smelled like rubber burning. “I don’t know, honey.”
But it couldn’t be good. Just then she heard a high-pitched whining noise coming from under the hood. She slowed the car, focused on the smell, frantically looking at the gauges and realized that the temperature gauge was climbing. She had no idea what would cause that, but—
Abruptly, the car lost power.
“Mommy, what’s happening?”
“Hold on, honey. We’re going to be okay, don’t worry.” Her heart raced as with white-knuckled fingers she gripped the wheel, trying to pull the car off the road, but the steering wasn’t responding. She forced herself to focus and yanked the wheel hard toward the shoulder.
She made it most of the way.
What now? What on earth would she do?
“What happened, Mommy? What’s wrong with the car?”
Chrissy bit the inside of her cheek and fought not to weep, battled for calm for her kids. “We’ll be okay, sweetheart. We’re not that far from Sweetgrass. We’ll be fine.”
Her heart sank as she contemplated how on earth she’d ever scrape up the funds to repair what had gone wrong, never mind how she’d get them to town or—She struggled for calm and gripped the door handle. “Don’t worry, sweetie. You two stay here, and I’ll just have a look under the hood.” As if she knew the first thing about the inside of a car’s engine.
On shaky legs, she emerged from the car.
As he crested the hill, Tank glanced over at a car with a trailer hitched to its bumper, sitting with its hood up.
He recognized the car. Recognized the woman standing still and peering under the hood. He veered across the highway and pulled up in front of her.
Chrissy turned, and her weary, frightened face was swept by relief.
“Got some trouble here?” he asked.
“Thank you so much for stopping. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I smelled something burning, and there was this noise, then all of a sudden the engine stopped, and the steering wouldn’t work.”
“Has it been giving you trouble?” he asked as he ducked under the hood.
“Nothing lately. It’s a junker, but it’s been pretty reliable. I should know how to fix it myself,” she said in a small voice. “I don’t like depending on others.”
Seeing what was wrong didn’t take a rocket scientist. “Your serpentine belt is broken. That’s the rubber you smelled burning.”
“Is that bad?”
“Only if you want to be able to drive it. It runs through the alternator, the water pump, power steering and air conditioning, for starters.”
Her eyes closed, and desperation swept over her features. “I knew better than to dream,” she said quietly. She opened her eyes again. “Will it be really expensive to fix?”
“Shouldn’t be. I work cheap.”
“Oh, you can’t—I could never ask you to—”
“You didn’t.” He brushed the grease from his hands onto his jeans and closed
the hood. “The ground here is too uneven, and visibility coming up this hill isn’t good. I need to tow it in.”
“You can do that?”
“Not with the trailer still hitched to it. Let’s get the trailer hooked up to my truck, then I’ll drop you and it off at your new place.”
“Oh, I couldn’t ask—” But he saw hope stir.
He wasn’t going to waste time arguing. “Shall I assume that your belongings are in the trailer?”
She sank teeth into her plump lower lip, and he looked away from the invitation he knew she wasn’t extending. He probably just made her nervous like he did everyone else.
“Never mind. If you’d rather stay with your car, I can call Jonas Mickan at the garage to come get you—or you can call yourself.” He stepped away from the rejection he knew was coming.
Her small hand touched his forearm, and he had to work not to flinch.
People didn’t touch him. She shouldn’t be touching him.
Before he could step away, her fingers tightened. “You were headed somewhere. I don’t feel right about asking you to take us, but I’m uncomfortable leaving the trailer and everything that’s in the car.” Shame crossed her features, and he realized that what she had here might very well be all that she owned in the world.
He’d been poor, dirt poor, growing up. He still wasn’t well off, but he’d been frugal and labored hard to improve on his lot. He didn’t make much as a deputy, but working his cattle shrewdly had padded his savings a lot.
He didn’t want to get involved. He wasn’t a man folks wanted as a friend, and though his sister had been tugging at him every chance she got, trying to include him in her new family, law enforcement didn’t reward softness.
He’d been reviled in this place his whole life. He’d made his peace with it.
Then a child’s voice called out. “Mom, is that Big Theo?”
Thad. The kid didn’t seem afraid of him like everybody else. He glanced over at her, to see her smiling. “It is, Thad, but don’t you get out of the car. We’re parked on the highway.”
Tank stepped to the side, so the boy could see him. “It’s me.”
“Hi, Big Theo!”
Tank raised his hand in answer. “Hey there, Thad.”
“I thought you could call me Little Theo. I bet you’re going to help us.”
“Honey, Deputy Patton was on his way somewhere. He can’t—”
Hell. “Yeah, I’m going to hitch up your trailer to my truck,” he said to the boy, “Then I’ll take you all to your new place. I’ll come back for the car after.”
Chrissy was chewing at that lower lip again.
“If you’re worried about the stuff in the car, we can load it in the bed of the truck. I’ve got a tarp to put over it to keep anything from blowing out.”
Big brown eyes looked up at him. “That’s so much trouble. I don’t want to impose.”
“You aren’t,” he answered curtly. Of course she was, but he wasn’t leaving her stranded. “I offered. Let’s get it done.” Without waiting for her to quibble, he strode to the back and hunkered down to check the trailer hitch. He rose again. “It’ll fit on my hitch,” he said to her. “I need you to get in the car and put it in neutral after I unhook this. Just let the car roll forward while I push. I need to get some clearance, so I can line up my truck.”
“But—” She hesitated.
He huffed a breath. She was still scared of him. “Look, if you don’t want my help—”
“No, I just don’t like having to ask—” Her worries and fears shadowed her delicate features.
“You didn’t. I offered.” When she still didn’t accept, he struggled for patience. “I don’t expect anything in return, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh no, I—” She shook her head, then faced him. “You’re doing an incredibly nice thing, coming to our rescue like this. Thank you. I will figure out a way to repay you, though this is so huge…”
He just wanted to stop talking and get the work done. “Get in the car. Don’t put it in neutral until I tell you.” He followed her. “I need the key for the padlock on the hitch.”
“Oh—yes.” She worked it from her key ring, again nibbling on her lip until he wanted to yell at her to stop.
Quickly he strode to the back again and opened the lock, then twisted the hitch until he could lift it off the ball. “All right, put it in neutral.” He turned the tongue of the hitch a little and set it on the ground, then moved to her bumper to push. “Okay, steer for the side of the road.” He put his muscle into it, pushing until he had enough room to maneuver his truck into the gap. “Hit the brakes!” he called out.
She complied.
“Now put the car back in Park.” Once she’d done that, he walked to the driver’s side. “You all stay here until I get my truck in position, okay?”
She laid her hand on his forearm. “Thank you.”
Her hand was warm and sweet and small.
He stepped back. “No problem.”
“You’re really strong, Big Theo.”
He couldn’t help but grin at the boy’s hushed tones of admiration. “Thanks. You stay inside with your mom, hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
He nodded, then glanced at the boy’s sister. “You all right, Miss Becky?”
She looked scared. “What will happen with our car?”
The worry and fear tugged at him. “I’ll take care of it, I promise.”
“Thank you.” The fear receded, and damned if he didn’t feel something warm in his chest.
He whirled away and headed for his truck.
Chrissy watched as he wheeled his big pickup into the gap with an ease she could never have managed. In a matter of minutes, he had the trailer hitched up, then he returned to her window.
“Okay, you sit here while I unload the back into the bed of my truck.”
“I can help, Big Theo!” Thad volunteered.
“No need,” Tank said, turning away.
“Kids, stay here for a minute.” She stepped out. “There is a need,” she called to him. “I pay my way.”
He looked back, exasperated. “It won’t take me but a second.”
“It will take less if I help.” When he hesitated, she continued. “Do you have any idea how heavy those trays are when I have a big table?”
He looked at her askance. “But you’re really little.”
“No,” she fired back. “You’re just really big. But I’m still strong.”
He closed his eyes. “Fine.” He continued to the back and opened the hatch. He grabbed one small box and handed it to her.
She had to chuckle. “You’re not very good at accepting help, either, are you?”
His head whipped to hers, surprise on his features. “Don’t get many offers.”
And why was that? He was so private, though, that she didn’t push. “Well, you have one now. The kids can help, too, you know.”
He glanced at the two heads in the back seat. “It’s not safe here on the road, and they can’t reach high enough for the bed of my truck.”
His safety concern made sense. “Fine, but when we get to the house, they will help.”
He shrugged, then grabbed two big boxes and a laundry basket full of miscellaneous items and walked to his truck. He set them down in the bed and shoved them up next to the toolbox, then took the box in her hands and set it down inside the toolbox.
With him carrying so much, the relocation took next to no time. Soon the kids were loaded into the dual cab of his truck, Thad in his booster seat, and her car was locked up. As Tank pulled away, she looked back at it, afraid of letting it out of her sight. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could afford.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be back to get it in just a little while.” In his eyes, she thought she saw understanding, and she smiled.
“I don’t know how to tell you how grateful I am that you were driving down this road. I didn’t know what I was going to do.”
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“Somebody would have come along and helped you. We’re right outside Sweetgrass.”
Maybe they would have, but she wondered if any of them would have made her feel so safe.
“You’re not very good at accepting gratitude, are you?”
He shrugged slightly. “Don’t get much practice.” Then he said nothing else until they reached her new home.
Leaving her to wonder what he meant by that.
Chapter Four
I’m sorry. I was going to clean it up, but I got called in. Leave the mess for me. Love, Jake.
As she read the scrawled note on the kitchen counter amid spilled coffee grounds and abandoned filters, Laura strolled, note in hand, to survey the dining room.
Contemplated, for the first time in their marriage, walking away from the man who had once been her reason for being. For breathing.
Oh, sure, there had been arguments, fights, disagreements. You couldn’t live with someone for so long and not butt heads, to say nothing of how much the raising of children could strain the harmony between you. She had a temper, and he was pigheaded. They had different ideas about almost everything.
But somehow the marriage had worked. There had been spice in the friction. And love, so much love.
What concerned her now was that Jake seemed clueless about how his obsession with work was affecting them. Once family had been at the center of his life, and his devotion had sustained her through the difficult parts of being a medical widow and a stay-at-home, jeans-clad mom whose handsome husband spent his days with beautiful women. Many of them fell at least a little in love with him, and had Laura not felt so secure in his love, she could have been miserable.
But he’d always come home to her, always been faithful. Of that she was absolutely positive.
Which made dealing with this first-ever mistress so alarming. She could battle a flesh-and-blood woman; she had no idea how to win against the allure of high-stakes medicine. He’d cared about his patients when he’d been in plastics, but that concern paled against the siren call of trauma’s life-or-death drama.
The kids were gone, and suddenly Laura found herself almost an afterthought. She didn’t believe he was doing it on purpose, but somehow his lack of awareness was even more painful.