Thankful for Love (5 page)

“I think I sprained my ankle,” he said. And burst into fresh tears.

She held the sobbing boy in her arms for a few moments then sat down with him in her lap and began to carefully probe his arm. She was relieved to find that the broken bone had not pierced the skin, and he had a strong pulse in his wrist. After explaining how she was going to make his arm more comfortable for the ride home, she put her words into action, tearing the towels into strips and securing the two boards with them.

Daniel stood nearby, holding the reins of the two horses, silent, pale, and big-eyed.

When she'd finished applying the splint, she carefully lifted Lucas so he could put his left foot in the stirrup, and he mounted Spot. Quanna rode behind him. When they reached the ranch house, she told Daniel to take the horses to the barn while she wrapped Lucas's ankle and made two phone calls. She made the easy one—to the family's pediatrician—first. Then, after a deep breath and with shaking hands, she let Jack know his son had broken his arm and she was about to take him to the emergency room.

Jack seemed calm on the phone, insisting she wait for him. He was only five minutes out. He would take Lucas to the ER. But she knew by the speed with which his truck roared down the road and the way gravel sprayed as he slammed on the brakes, it wasn't going to be a cool and reasoned conversation when he got in the house.

She was right.

The two boys and Quanna were sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen when he strode into the room. Daniel was nibbling on cookies she'd given him to comfort him. Quanna was rubbing Lucas's back as he sniffed back tears and pushed around a few cookie crumbs.

“What the hell happened here?” Jack demanded as he inspected his son's splinted arm.

“The boys went horseback riding and...”

“They're not allowed to go out without an adult with them. They knew I would be here. I was less than five minutes away when you called.”

“I know, but...”

“You know? But you let them go alone?” Jack's voice got louder with each sentence. “They're too young to be riding unsupervised. You were told to have them wait for me. That was your job today. A job, I'll remind you, I pay you for.”

Quanna guessed from the tight-lipped, frightened expression on Daniel's face he wasn't going to confess to being the instigator of the ill-fated ride. She didn't blame him, actually, for not owning up to it. Jack Richardson on a tear was intimidating.

“I'm disappointed in you, Quanna. I expected more from someone who came with such good recommendations. But what I apparently got was someone who doesn't pay attention to what my kids do and lets them run wild.” He was pacing the kitchen floor now, his anger growing with each step. “And why are you feeding him? If they have to operate, he needs an empty stomach.”

“I called his pediatrician, and she said it was okay to give him something if he wanted it. She'll x-ray his arm to make sure, but from what I described, she thinks it's a simple fracture. He'll only need a cast. Even if he does need surgery, she said it wouldn't be today. It would have to be after the swelling goes down. She's on her way to the ER now. I would have driven him there but...”

“I'll take care of my sons myself, thank you.” Jack had stopped his pacing and was standing in front of Lucas. “Come on, buddy, let's get you to the doctor.”

Lucas hopped down from the stool and almost crumpled on the floor.

“You hurt your leg, too?”

Lucas nodded, tears beginning again.

Quanna said, “It's his right ankle. I wrapped it. I don't think it's broken.”

“I'd prefer to have the doctor make the diagnosis.” Jack picked up his younger son and headed for the door. “Daniel, come with me. You're not staying here alone. Quanna's leaving.”

“Yes, Dad.” Daniel gave a quick look at Quanna and followed his father to his truck.

Quanna cleaned up the milk-and-cookie dishes and locked up the house. She was about to drive off when she remembered Spot and Paint. They hadn't been taken care of after their aborted expedition. She unsaddled the horses, wiped them down, fed and watered them, and put them in their stalls. At least she wouldn't be blamed for something happening to valuable animals. Just valuable children.

Getting back into her car, she wondered if that would be the last thing she ever did for the Richardson family. She needed a shoulder to cry on and maybe a good meal. She called her friend Rita and asked her to meet her at the Cowboy Up Bar and Grill.

• • •

Jack had a phone call to make, an apology to get off his chest, and a couple of upset kids to deal with. There was also a meeting this evening of the wheat co-op he ran to discuss the summer's harvest schedule. It was the last thing he needed, but unfortunately, it had taken a couple weeks to find a date and time when everyone could get together, which meant there was no way to get out of it. So, after Lucas had his arm and his ankle x-rayed, the first limb casted, and the second one wrapped, Jack dropped the boys off at his sister's then raced back to Pendleton. He made it to the restaurant where his fellow co-op members were meeting for dinner only a little later than he was expected.

But as he strode through the bar to the restaurant in back where they always met, he noticed two young men in jeans and Western shirts around the high bar table of a woman he could only see from the back, perched on a stool. From what he could see, she had a nice figure. She wore her long, dark hair in a loose, low ponytail that swished back and forth as she looked from one man to the other. Both the men appeared to be drunk and, from their body language, trying to intimidate her. He knew the type. Not only were they full of booze, they were full of themselves and out to make trouble. The woman, he decided, could use a little help. So he changed directions. As he approached the table, he heard some of the conversation, which confirmed his suspicions.

“Come on, honey. You know you want it. You all want to be with a white guy.”

“What I want,” the woman responded, her voice soft but unwavering, “is for you to leave me alone.”

“No you don't. You're jush playing hard to get,” the second man said, his slurred words showing just how drunk he was. “We'll show you a good time, I promish.”

“Please. Leave. Or I'll call the manager.”

“No one caresh what happens to shum Indian tramp,” the first man said, grabbing at her.

She evaded his hand. “Don't touch me, or I'll do more than call the manager. I'll call the cops.” She took a phone out of her purse, a vaguely familiar looking purse, although Jack didn't know why.

“I believe the lady asked you to leave. Do it,” he said, walking up to the table.

When the woman turned around, Jack realized why the purse was familiar. It belonged to Quanna. A Quanna who looked quite different sitting in his favorite restaurant with her hair loose and a little bit of lipstick on.

The second drunk said, “Go away, old man. Thish is none of your business.”

“I'm making it my business. Leave as you were asked to do, or I'll get the restaurant manager. He'll be glad to help you out, although you might not like his methods. And, since his brother the sheriff is on speed dial, I imagine he'll be asking for assistance from him, too.”

“Fuck off.” The more aggressive of the two fended off the attempts of his friend to get him to leave. “I'm not scared of you.”

Jack shrugged. “Your call.” He turned and waved toward the back. “Ray,” he yelled. “Want to come out here and help me get rid of a couple drunks?”

The manager, a tall, muscular man who looked like he could bench-press twice his weight came from the back of the restaurant, a cell phone at his ear.

The two young men took one look at what was headed toward them and made tracks for the door. Jack waved off Ray who gave him a thumbs-up.

“You okay?” he asked Quanna.

“Yes. Thanks.”

She didn't make eye contact when she spoke. He wasn't sure if it was because she was angry, embarrassed, or insulted. Maybe all three. “I'm sure you could have handled it on your own. But a little backup is never a bad thing, is it?”

“I suppose it isn't.” She was playing with the napkin under the full glass of wine in front of her, tearing off small pieces of it as if it were more important than looking directly at him.

“Actually, I'm glad I ran into you. Do you mind if I sit down for a minute? I have something I need to say to you.”

She sighed, waved at the bar stool across from her, and said, “Sure. Might as well get it over with tonight and not wait for tomorrow.”

“I'm not sure I'd put it that way, but thanks.” He took a seat and waited, hoping she'd stop reducing the napkin to pulp and meet his eyes. When she didn't, he began, “I owe you an apology. A big one.”

That got her attention. “Wait. What? An apology? Why?”

“For the way I talked to you this afternoon. I shouldn't have said most of what I did. Any of what I said, actually. My only explanation is I was scared. Nothing like that has ever happened to one of the boys, and it scared the pea-wadding green out of me. But it's not an excuse for my taking it out on you.”

She was silent, her eyes wide and her lips parted, as if trying to say something that wouldn't come out. “It's ... it's okay. I understand. I was scared, too.”

“I guess we all were. Particularly Daniel, as it turns out. Which is why he didn't say anything about his role in the whole thing until we'd been to the doctor and were on the way to my sister's house. Then he confessed he was the instigator. He'd waited until you were busy so you wouldn't notice they weren't in the house. He was pissed at me for not being there after school so he talked Lucas into going out on their own.”

“I figured it was something like that.”

“But you didn't confront him when I was yelling at you for something you didn't do.”

“I wanted him to tell you on his own, not because I backed him into a corner. And I might have felt a little guilty about not knowing what they were up to.”

“They're not toddlers. I didn't hire you to stalk them.”

Before she could say any more, Doreen, one of the members of the wheat co-op, approached the table. She was well dressed, as always. “There you are, Jack. The crew sent me out to see if your truck was around anyplace so we knew whether to expect you any time soon.” She put her hand on Jack's shoulder in a familiar way. She'd been doing things like that for some time no matter how he tried to discourage it. “We can't start without you, can we?” She was staring at Quanna as she spoke.

“I'll be there in a minute or two, Doreen.” He motioned from one woman to the other. “This is Quanna Morales, my kid wrangler. Quanna, this is Doreen Campbell. She runs the Lazy C.”

“Oh, what a sweet title for a nanny! You're so clever, Jack.” Doreen put out her hand to Quanna, and the two women briefly shook, although Doreen quickly returned her attention to Jack. “I'll tell them to expect you soon. So don't spend too much time out here. After all, you can see your nanny when she comes to work for you.”

“I'll be right there.” He waited until she was out of earshot before saying, “Now, where was I?”

“You better get to your meeting, hadn't you?” Quanna said.

“Not until I'm sure you accept my apology and I know we're okay.”

“Of course I accept your apology.”

“And we're all right? If I screwed up and you quit, the boys would be disappointed. They like your cooking better than their grandmother's. And even Daniel was beginning to think you were better at what you do than she was. But you sealed the deal with them today. In the car on the way to the doctor, they told me how amazing you were about Lucas's arm. They're impressed with your first aid skills. Daniel is grateful you didn't dime him out, and they both think you're a better rider than I am. If that's possible.” He smiled, hoping he could get her to do the same.

“This was not the way I hoped to impress them.”

“You and me both. But it's how it happened. So, are we okay?”

“We're fine, Jack. Really.”

“Good. Then I'll see you in the morning at the usual time.” He got up from the table and had taken only a few steps toward the back when he heard her say, “Crap.”

She was looking at her phone and frowning.

“Problem?”

“The friend who was supposed to meet me just canceled.” She rummaged around in her purse, came up with a handful of dollar bills, and threw them on the table. “I might as well go home. I hate to eat alone in a restaurant.”

“I'll walk you to your car.”

“I'll be fine. You get to your meeting.”

“Those two drunks might be outside waiting for you. You shouldn't go out there alone. I'll walk you to your car.”

When she stood, he noticed, for the first time, how the jeans she wore hugged every curve she had. He also noticed she had an interesting set of them. There was something about her tonight that made him look at her quite differently than he did at the ranch. Maybe it was the lighting in the bar.

As they got to the door of the restaurant, Jack reached in front of her to open it, placing his hand on the small of her back as he did. He felt something when he touched her, a slight shock, like he'd walked across a rug and picked up an electric charge, although the floor in the bar was smooth, glossy wood. What the hell? And had she felt it, too?

He dropped his hand as soon as she got through the door, and they walked silently to her car. She unlocked it, and he opened the door for her.

“Thank you,” she said. “But I don't think it was necessary.”

“You're wrong. Those two jerks are standing across the street staring at us,” Jack said. “Get in the car and lock the doors. I'll wait until I'm sure they don't try to follow you home.”