The Rancher's Homecoming (6 page)

“Aw, they're just excited about getting the afternoon off. I should've known something was up when they showed up on Memorial Day. Not like it's even the first time they've got me.”

“It's been a while,” Wes pointed out. “You were twelve the last time, if I recall.”

Remembering, Rex grinned. “Woody dropped a fresh pair in my shirt pocket. I kept them and later hid them in his truck, where they went undiscovered for the whole weekend.”

Callie winced, and Wes laughed. “As I recall, you wound up cleaning that truck cab with a toothbrush.”

“More than once,” Rex confirmed, grinning. “It still stunk.”

A knock at the front door curbed their laughter. Callie touched Rex's shoulder, saying, “I'll go. Eat your lunch.”

Assuming it was one of the men, he set about building himself a sandwich. When Callie returned, it was with Ben Dolent, her hands clasped together at her waist. Dolent carried a pale blue envelope and a vacuous smile. Doffing his hat, he spoke to Wes.

“Mr. Billings, it good to see you up and about.”

“Thanks.” He nodded at the blue envelope, asking, “What's this about, Ben?”

“Oh, it's purely a courtesy call,” he said. “Mr. Crowsen understands how things can slip your mind in the midst of a health crisis, so he had me hand deliver this reminder to you.” Beaming, he passed the envelope to Wes.

Splitting a loaded glance between Callie and Rex, Wes opened the envelope and removed a single slip of paper. After briefly reading, he tossed the paper and envelope onto the table.

“This note isn't due for sixty days, and you had to come out on Memorial Day to deliver it?”

Dolent shifted his feet. “Mr. Crowsen just wants you to know he's thinking about you.”

Wes linked his fingers over his belt and hung an elbow on the edge of the table. “Well, you tell Stu Crowsen not to worry about his little note. It'll be paid in full and on time.” He speared Dolent with a pointed glare then, adding, “But not one day before it's due. You tell him that.”

Dolent's smile faded, replaced by uncertainty. “Um. Okay.”

Rex picked up the slip and looked at it. Two thousand dollars. Crowsen was hounding them over two thousand dollars, sixty days before it was due? He looked at Callie, who had closed her eyes and bowed her head. Not hardly. Tossing the paper onto the table, Rex pushed up to his full height and seized Dolent by the arm.

“I think you're done here.”

“What?” Dolent shot a glance at Callie. “I was hoping—”

“Nope,” Rex interrupted, propelling the other man back the way he'd come. “You've done what you were sent to do.”

“Listen,” Dolent hissed, letting himself be escorted through the dining room and into the living area. “Wasn't my idea to come here like this.”

“No, but you came,” Rex growled.

“Because I wanted to see Callie.”

“She doesn't want to see you.”

“I'm trying to tell you that the boss can make life uncomfortable for you if he's of a mind to.”

“Now, you listen to me,” Rex muttered, holding on to his temper by a hair as he steered Dolent into the foyer. “I hate bullies.” He turned Dolent to face him, stating flatly, “If Crowsen comes after my father or his daughter, I will use every weapon at my disposal to stop him.” He poked Dolent in the chest with the tip of his forefinger. “You got that?”

Dolent frowned and nodded. “I'm just trying to help.”

“If you want to help,” Rex said, “leave Callie alone and convince Stuart to do the same.”

“She's his daughter,” Dolent said, setting his mouth in a firm line. “He's got a right to try to take care of her.”

“She's a grown woman,” Rex said. “Crowsen has no legal rights where she is concerned. You tell him that.”

Frowning, Dolent tapped the crown of his hat with a plump hand and pulled open the front door. Rex shut it behind him, sucked in a deep breath and tamped down his fury before returning to the kitchen.

“I'm so sorry,” Callie said as he dropped down onto his chair again.

“Not your fault.”

Wes waved a hand over his sandwich. “Stuart's just making noise. He can't hurt us. We don't need the Crowsen silos because we don't grow cash crops. We don't truly need the Feed and Grain because we raise most of our own fodder. The only loans he carries for us are small, good-neighbor loans that we can easily pay off. I just took them out because it's good business to support my local bank. Don't you worry, Callie, honey.”

“I just don't want to cause trouble for you,” Callie said miserably.

“We can protect our own,” Rex told her, smearing mustard on a slice of bread. As far as he was concerned, that included her now.

He glanced up in time to see the worried tears in her eyes before she turned away and went back to work. Like her, he sensed that Stuart wasn't done, but he knew that Crowsen could do little where Straight Arrow Ranch and the Billings family were concerned.

Rex also knew that he would fight with everything in him to keep her here. Where she belonged.

Chapter Six

R
ex spent the afternoon weeding his mother's flowerbed. It seemed an appropriate activity for Memorial Day. Callie came out to help him while Wes watched from his bedroom, Bodie playing in her playpen at the foot of his bed.

“I've been meaning to do this for a while,” Rex said to Callie, pulling grass from among the peonies. Why was it the grass wouldn't grow elsewhere beneath the trees? “Just haven't taken the time.”

On her knees a little distance away, Callie shook back her bangs. “You've been busy.”

“Yep. That and...” He didn't know why he felt compelled to confess these things to her, but he did. “I used to help my mom do this. Makes me miss her.”

“I understand that.”

“I know you do.”

They shared a wan smile and got back to cleaning out the bed. Afterward, they spread fresh straw over the bed to keep the weeds at bay. Then Wes asked to drive out to the cemetery to visit Gloria's grave. The old cemetery sat over five miles to the east and south of town, while the Straight Arrow lay more than a mile farther to the north and east. Wes asked Callie to come along, so she and the baby rode in the backseat of the truck while Rex drove and Wes hung his elbow out the open passenger window, basking in the heated air that rushed through the vehicle. Bodie seemed to enjoy the wind. Callie repeatedly combed her bangs with her fingers, smiled in that quiet, indulgent way of hers and occasionally met Rex's gaze in the rearview mirror.

He wondered if she felt the same electric jolt he felt when their gazes met. They certainly seemed to be developing a silent method of communication. He had merely glanced at the irises blanketing the foundation of the house, and Callie had gone to cut and tie them into bundles with white ribbons while Rex had placed Wes's wheelchair into the bed of the truck. It turned out that they didn't need the chair. Despite finding half a dozen other vehicles in the small, overgrown cemetery, Rex was able to pull the truck to a spot within a few yards of his mom's grave.

Wes had installed a granite bench there next to a lilac bush, which had grown large enough to provide shade. The bush hung heavy with blossoms browning in the heat, their fragrance filling the now-still air. Rex walked Wes to the bench and laid one of the iris bundles at the base of his mom's headstone while Callie carried Bodie and the second bundle to her mom's grave.

Stuart had placed a life-size statue of a woman with long hair seeming to launch herself heavenward from a recumbent position on a carved pedestal atop Mrs. Crowsen's grave. It looked pretentious and out of place in the humble little cemetery. Callie laid the bundle of irises on the platform, traced the lettering there with her fingertip, spoke quietly to her daughter and then began to stroll beneath the shade trees, Bodie in her arms as usual. Rex forced his gaze away from her in order to groom his mother's grave.

No wonder Ben Dolent was so taken with her. But what made him or Stuart think that she would have any interest in a mindless puppet like Ben? She'd married a bona fide hero the first time around, a real man's man apparently and a minister, no less. Why would she then settle for an older, unattractive dolt ready to do her overbearing father's every bidding? It would take a special man to replace Bo Deviner. That thought alone should have cowed Dolent. It somehow depressed Rex, not that he had any intention of going after the pretty widow himself.

Wes seemed wiped out by the short trip to the cemetery, but to Rex's relief, he rallied quickly. After a nap, he walked to the dinner table with more vigor than Rex had seen for some time, then ate a very hearty meal.

“The last of the stitches come out tomorrow,” Rex reminded him.

“Callie can take me,” Wes suggested.

Rex looked to Callie, who shrugged and nodded.

“Okay. Gives me a full day in the field. I hope.”

“Provided the baler doesn't break down again, you mean,” Wes said dryly.

“It won't,” Callie said, scrubbing the tabletop with a soapy sponge. “And if it does, we'll fix it.” They hadn't even left the table yet and the kitchen was already spotless.

Why did so many people find housework demeaning or unsatisfying when it was so essential to the comfort and well-being of a family? He and Amy had paid for domestic help, though Amy had not worked outside the home, despite having a degree in business management. She had complained about being bored and how the housekeeper did everything. Rex couldn't imagine Callie being bored. She was the most active, engaged woman he had ever known, except perhaps for his mom.

Amy had always quietly disdained the homemade goodies and gifts that his mother had sent their way. Rex had tried not to take offense, given Amy's background. Now he was ashamed that he hadn't taken
more
offense.

He almost pitied Amy. Her father had divorced her mother, married a younger woman and laughingly called it “trading up.” A gifted attorney in her own right, Amy's mother, Chloe, had preached that every woman should be able to make her own way in the world, but in some ways Callie seemed better prepared to do that than either Amy or Chloe. Callie, after all, was the one standing up to her overbearing father and making an independent move, while Chloe's law practice depended on Amy's father even now and Amy seemed interested only in marrying to further his control of the firm.

Bodie, who was more fussy than usual, shoved her toy off the tray of the high chair and reached for her mother, complaining loudly.

“Muhmuhmuhmuhmuh.”

Callie rinsed her hands, pulled a small tube from her hip pocket, squeezed a clear gel onto her fingertip and began to rub it onto Bodie's gums. “Those teeth are being stubborn, aren't they?”

She swung Bodie up out of the high chair and started for the stairs. The urge to follow hit Rex with stunning force. It took the breath right out of his body. What that was about, he couldn't even begin to guess.

Wes smiled and softly said, “You were a terror with those first teeth. Screamed like a banshee day and night. And your ma wasn't nearly that calm, you being her first. She was better with the girls. With you, she had her mother over here constantly, and my own mother lived here in the house with us.” He chuckled. “Those were some tense days.”

“I don't know where Callie gets her expertise and confidence,” Rex said. “She didn't have a mother to guide her.”

“All I know is,” Wes told him, “that girl is a blessing.”

A blessing, indeed. A blessing that was quickly becoming a personal problem for Rex.

* * *

Callie drove Wes into town on Tuesday to see the general practitioner. Dr. Alice Shorter divided her practice between several small towns in the area, so she kept office hours in War Bonnet only two days a week. Fiftyish and no-nonsense, she wore rimless glasses over her dark brown eyes and kept her blond-streaked, light brown hair in a neat chignon. Callie had found her competent and friendly.

Wes seemed downright eager to see the doctor and get the last of his stitches removed. They arrived early, having the first appointment of the morning, and he walked into the clinic on his own, straight and tall. Dr. Shorter seemed as keen to see Wes as he was to see her. She stood at the reception desk, arms folded, waiting for him, and greeted him the moment he came through the door.

“Still breathing then, are you, Billings?”

“Still breathing, Shorter.”

“So has that God of yours healed you yet?”

“That's what He's got you for.”

Rolling her eyes, the doctor waved him past the desk and into an examination room. As she settled down with Bodie in the waiting area, Callie traded bemused looks with the young female receptionist. Someone else walked through the door just then, and that started a steady stream of patients. Wes returned, moving gingerly, about forty minutes after they'd arrived. Bodie was on the verge of a meltdown, fussing and bowing her back. Callie had risen to walk the floor with her and was about to take her outside when Wes appeared.

“Sorry for the delay,” he said sheepishly, pushing the door open for her with one hand. In the other he carried a bag of what appeared to be samples from the doctor's stores.

“It really wasn't that long. Bodie's just in a foul mood. I'll give her a cold teething ring when we get home.”

“Poor baby. Those teeth are really hurting her.”

Callie belted the baby into her car seat while he eased along the sidewalk and into the passenger seat of the truck. When Callie climbed into the driver's seat next to him, he offered another apology.

“I should've gotten us out of there quicker. The doc and I have this running battle going, see, and I just can't resist debating with her,” Wes explained. “She's mad at God because her husband died and all her training couldn't stop it. I keep asking her how she can be so mad at someone she claims not to believe in.”

“Ah. Now I know how to pray about this.”

Wes smiled. “That's the ticket. You and me, we're gonna pray her right into the Kingdom.”

Callie nodded as she started up the truck. “And it starts with getting you well.”

“I'll go for that,” Wes said, hanging his elbow out the window. He shifted in his seat, adding, “Feels good to have those stitches removed.” He rubbed a place on his chest and said, “While they were taking things out, they put in a port for the chemo, you know. Alice says they'll want to start next week. She's setting up the appointments today.”

“They won't do that here, will they?” Callie asked, backing the truck around and pulling out onto the street.

“No, no. We'll have to go to Oklahoma City. Didn't Rex explain?”

She shook her head. “No, he didn't.”

“Well, you and Bodie won't mind taking a little trip, will you?”

Callie looked at him in surprise. “Bodie and I need to go?”

“I think you should,” Wes said. “Otherwise, I'll worry about you. Rex agrees. He doesn't want Dolent pestering you while we're gone or your father pressuring you.”

Sighing, Callie said, “I don't want to be a burden.”

To her surprise, Wes said, “It's not about that, girl. I don't think I have to tell you that death changes those left behind. I've been lonely and filled with regret since Glory went to the Lord. She and I discussed it and decided that we wouldn't try to hold our kids to the ranch. I'm not so sure now that was the wise move, but Glory, she never doubted, and I miss that certainty—and everything else—about her. Now, Dr. Shorter, she's angry, and it keeps her from seeing the truth. Your father, well, he's never been the same since your mother died.”

Callie couldn't have been more shocked. “You knew him well back then?”

“I did. We were good friends, Jane and Stu, me and Glory. He was a lot softer in those days, fun and relaxed, so in love with your mom and you. Her death broke him, frightened him, I think. He'd have wrapped you in cotton batting and locked you away to protect you, if he could have. He wasn't going to send you to public school. Did you know that?”

Gaping at him, Callie nearly ran a stop sign, braking only at the last moment. The truck rocked to a stop. She stared at Wes.

“I didn't.”

“The pastor had to talk to him. He finally saw reason, but it wasn't easy for him. I think he shifted his focus to money because getting rich was the only way he could protect you and control your world.”

“You try to let go of your children because you love them,” Callie said, moving the truck forward again, “and my dad tries to hold on to me for the same reason.”

Wes chuckled. “Hadn't thought of it that way, but you're right. Who's to say we aren't both wrong?”

“I don't know,” Callie told him. “I just know I can't marry Ben Dolent.”

Laughing, Wes shook his head. “No, you cannot, and if Stu was thinking straight, he'd know it, too. Until he gets his head right, I think you ought to tag along with us to Oklahoma City, though.”

“We'll see,” she said.

Rex and Meredith agreed with Wes and even argued that Callie could be quite useful in Oklahoma City. It was decided that Callie and Bodie would stay with Meredith in her apartment and Rex would stay in the hospital suite with Wes but take daily meals with Callie and Bodie at Meredith's place. Meredith would spend as much time with Wes as her nursing schedule would allow, and Callie should feel free to make herself at home in Meredith's apartment, using the washer and dryer as necessary and taking care of Meredith's two cats.

Callie pointed out that they were paying her rather well to basically babysit two cats, cook a few meals and do a couple loads of laundry. Rex lifted his eyebrows and drawled, “You haven't seen Meredith's apartment.”

Wes hid a smile behind his hand. “Let's just say that Meredith is an animal nut.”

“More animal nut than housekeeper,” Rex muttered.

Callie didn't have time to give that statement much thought. Over the ensuing week, Wes grew rapidly stronger and obviously put on weight. He seemed to be eating with that purpose in mind, and the supplements that Dr. Shorter had him on meant swallowing numerous pills before and after every meal. Callie kept busy keeping him fed, the house clean, the laundry done and Bodie halfway satisfied.

While Wes seemed to be gaining strength and pounds, Rex seemed to be losing both. He came in for lunch every day all but burned to a crisp by the June sun and nearly fell asleep in his plate at the dinner table every evening. At midday Saturday, however, he happily announced that the alfalfa had been completely baled.

“We can leave for Oklahoma City without any fear for the alfalfa, at least. Duffy and the boys will move it to storage while we're gone. Then I'll start on the regular hay when we get back.”

“Good job, son,” Wes told him. “The alfalfa fields would be going fallow if not for you.”