Читать книгу The Rancher's Homecoming - Arlene James, Arlene James - Страница 11

Chapter Three

The afternoon turned hot, with temperatures shooting up to the midnineties. Surrounded by large trees and deep porches, the old house felt comfortable enough, except for the kitchen. Used to the central air-conditioning of her father’s house, Callie soon felt herself flagging. She opened several windows, especially upstairs, and turned on all the ceiling fans she could find, including the one in the kitchen. Soon, a pleasant breeze cooled the place. She wondered how well that would do in the coming triple-digit heat of deep summer, however.

Figuring that Rex would need something cold, she made a pitcher of iced tea, then carried a glass to Wes, only to find him fast asleep. Pleased to see that he’d eaten all of his cookies and emptied his milk glass, she tiptoed away again, moved the laundry from the washer to the dryer and went out to help Rex reattach that bolt.

He drained the tumbler of iced tea that she brought him in one long gulp.

“You are quickly making yourself indispensable around here,” he gasped, holding the cold glass against his forehead.

She just smiled. “I made the tea sweet because Wes can use the calories, but if you prefer it unsweetened, I can do that, too.”

“I don’t need the calories,” he said, “but then I don’t usually work like this. Either way is fine.” He set aside the glass. “Did the AC unit kick on?”

“I didn’t know there was an AC unit.”

Rex sighed. “I think it’s broken. Dad works outside so much, I doubt he’s even bothered with it in years. For him, just getting out of the sun is usually enough. I’ll take a look at it first chance I get.”

Callie nodded, aware that Rex was overwhelmed at the moment. “Ready to replace that bolt?”

“Yep.” He looked at Bodie, who rubbed her eyes with a fist. “Must be nap time.”

“She doesn’t get a nap until her momma’s ready to start dinner,” Callie said, jiggling the baby on her hip. “Let’s do this. I’ve got clothes in the dryer.”

“Everything’s ready for you.” He nodded at the tool and clean bolt waiting on the fender of the baler. “You’ve got the housework down to a science, don’t you?” he muttered, gingerly taking Bodie into his hands.

“You’d be surprised how quickly you figure it out,” Callie said, fitting the bolt head into the socket. “A few sleepless nights and haphazard days and it all starts falling into place. I trust you’ve tested the connections and everything works.”

“Yes. Praise God! I’m serious. I have prayed repeatedly about this thing. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to have it running. As it is, we have to use a custom cutter on the oats and sorghum. I was beginning to fear we’d have to hire someone to do the hay, too.”

“Are you using Dean Paul Pryor for your custom cutting?” Callie asked, bending over the baler arm to find the bolt hole.

“I think that’s who Dad mentioned. Do you know him?”

“Everyone knows Dean. When he sold his granddaddy’s farm to pay for his equipment, everyone thought he was crazy. Well, my father did. Dad would have loaned him the money, but Dean didn’t want to borrow. He said that way he stood to lose the farm and the equipment, and you know what? He was right.” She finally found the hole and got the bolt seated. With a few quick turns, she had it secured. She looked over her shoulder at Rex, who was tapping Bodie’s nose. “You’d better finish this.”

“Ah.” He came forward, wrapped his hand around hers on the ratchet and pulled.

She slipped her hand free, disturbed by the heat that radiated up her arm, and took Bodie from him. He grunted as he pulled the bolt tight.

“That should do it.” Grinning, he shook the ratchet free and extricated it from the baler teeth. “You’ve earned your week’s wages already.”

Callie smiled, but then the sound of tires on the dirt road out front had them both looking in that direction. A moment later, a vehicle door slammed, and a male voice boomed, “Callie Dianne!”

Her heart beginning to pound, Callie swallowed and frowned apologetically at Rex. “I’m sorry about this,” she said, aware that her voice trembled. “My father’s come to call.” She’d hoped to have more time. Reluctantly, she moved toward the front of the barn, silently praying that this confrontation wouldn’t be as difficult as she feared.

She heard Rex set aside the tool and follow her. Stuart had made it halfway up the path toward the house when Callie reluctantly called out to him.

“I’m here, Dad.”

He spun around, a raging bull of a man. Not quite six feet tall and built like a brick wall, Stuart hadn’t changed much in the past twenty years, but then he’d always seemed middle-aged, angry and overbearing. His flattop haircut added to the squareness of his face, as did his blunt nose and pugnacious chin. Callie had never been able to see anything of herself in him. Long ago, she’d learned to remain calm in the face of his rages, and he’d never physically hurt her, but he wielded power with purpose and impunity to achieve his own ends.

“Get in the car!” he demanded, pointing.

Callie took a deep breath, cradled Bodie against her, ignored the quaking of her own knees and shook her head. “No.”

“You’re going home.”

Callie swallowed to steady her voice and said, “Wes needs me, Dad. I’m going to stay here to help Mr. Billings.”

“Get in the car!” Stuart roared, starting toward her.

Despite the slamming of her heart, Callie stood her ground. “I’m not going, Dad.”

To her relief, Rex stepped in front her. “Mr. Crowsen, I’m Rex Billings.”

“I know who you are,” Stuart growled. “Get out of my way.” He came to a halt, however, in the middle of the road.

“My father is ill, sir. I have my hands full with the ranch. Until my sisters can get here, we need Callie’s help.”

“Get other help.”

“I don’t have time to find other help,” Rex argued reasonably. “And Callie’s agreed to work for us.”

“She’s my daughter, and she’s coming home with me,” Stuart insisted.

Rex widened his stance and folded his arms. It was the very pose that Bo had taken when he’d told Stuart that he and Callie were getting married. Callie had feared that the announcement would come to violence, but Bo had promised otherwise, and he had kept his word.

“You have no legal authority over Callie,” Rex said.

“That’s my granddaughter!” Stuart bawled, throwing out a finger.

“Do you have legal custody of her?” Rex asked.

“He doesn’t,” Callie answered quietly, her voice wavering.

Rex didn’t so much as glance in her direction. He kept his focus on her father and his tone level. “You have no legal recourse here, Mr. Crowsen. I understand that you’re upset, but Callie and Bodie are safe and comfortable. You have my word on it. Moreover, Callie is being handsomely paid.”

That upset Stuart even more, though Rex wouldn’t have understood that. “You stay out of this, Billings! Callie, you’re coming home with me.”

“No, Dad, I’m not,” she said firmly, emboldened by Rex’s support. “I’ve been telling you for a while now that Bodie and I need to make our own way.”

Stuart thumped himself in the chest. He never wore anything but a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled back and dark slacks.

“I provide for you,” he declared. “You have no need to earn money.”

“But I do,” she told him softly. “I’m afraid the price for your provision is too high.”

They both knew she was talking about Ben Dolent. Stuart heaved several deep breaths, considering his next move. She imagined that he was tallying up any loans that he held on the Billings’ properties, any feed bills due, any equipment orders. The amount must have been negligible, for he shook his head and pointed a thick finger at her.

“I just want to take care of you, girl. Why won’t you accept that I know what’s best?”

“Why won’t you accept that I’m a grown woman who can decide what’s best for herself?”

Stuart shook his head. “I’ve worked my whole life to provide for you, Callie. You defied me once, and look what happened. I won’t stand for this a second time!”

“I’m afraid you have no choice,” Rex told him evenly. “My father is ill. I won’t have him upset. Callie’s already done him a world of good, and if she wants to stay, she’s staying. I can make it official and get a protective order to keep you off the property, if you insist.”

“You think a piece of paper will keep me away?” Stuart demanded.

Rex took a step forward, balling his hands into fists. “If it won’t,” he threatened, “I’m not above throwing you off the place myself. You think I can’t, you come here raving like a madman again.”

“I’m older than you by twenty years at least,” Stuart pointed out, backing up a step.

“You are,” Rex admitted, “but you look fit enough to me, and I’ll make good on that threat if I have to.”

Stuart glared, and snarled, “This isn’t over,” and stomped off to his big luxury car. He always drove the most expensive model of Cadillac.

Callie let out a silent breath of relief as he got inside, started the engine and drove away. Rex slid her a look from the corners of his eyes.

“Okay. Now I know why we won’t be going back to his place for anything.”

“He doesn’t mean any harm,” Callie said, tears filling her eyes, “and I don’t want to hurt him. He just...” She didn’t know how to explain her father’s overbearing overprotectiveness. Shaking her head, she carried her daughter toward the ranch house.

Her heart still pounded, and she privately admitted she was thrilled at the way Rex had stood up to her father, but she couldn’t help thinking that Bo would have handled it differently. Quiet, mild-mannered Bo had accomplished with sheer determination what Rex had done with threats and bravado. The thrill she’d felt when Rex had stepped between her and her father confused her. At least Rex hadn’t told her to pack her things and leave with Stuart, though, and he’d made it plain that she was valued at Straight Arrow Ranch.

She wondered just how long Rex meant to remain around War Bonnet. And that she even wondered worried her.

* * *

Stomping into the garage and throwing things calmed Rex somewhat, but he hated nothing more than a blustering bully. He’d had enough of that. When he’d walked away from his marriage and his job, he’d promised himself that he’d never put up with that kind of demanding, overbearing manipulation again.

Dennis Gladden had used his daughter as a bargaining chip. Rex had been foolish enough to believe that Amy loved him. He had married her in spite of who her father was, not because of it. Only later had he realized that Amy was meant to keep him in line, to bend him to her daddy’s will. When Rex had refused to be molded into an obedient yes-man, Amy had transferred her affections to a more malleable candidate within the firm, with her father’s approval. Rex still didn’t know if his discovery of her infidelity had been conveniently orchestrated or if it had truly been an accident. Certainly Dennis had known that Amy was at his house on the river when he’d sent Rex there for a weekend of fishing to “consider the future.” Whether Dennis had known that she was there with another man or not, Rex neither knew nor truly cared.

In a funny way, Amy and her bully of a father had made it possible for Rex to take care of his dad. He’d be hanged if another bully of a father would get in the way of that. He couldn’t help wondering why Stuart Crowsen would be so adamant about his daughter not leaving his household, though. He could understand if he was so fond of her and little Bodie that he wanted them with him, but it wasn’t as if they’d moved across the state. They hadn’t gone half a dozen miles away. And it was only a temporary situation.

Rex knew he was going to have to find out what was behind all this, if only to keep it from impacting Wes, but he didn’t feel sufficiently calm enough for that discussion until after he’d returned to the house, checked on his dad and cleaned up. By that time, Callie had supper on the table.

“Feels like Glory could come walking into the room any moment,” Wes commented, leaning an elbow on the table beside his plate. “Thank you, Callie.”

“My pleasure.”

“But from now on, you sit yourself down at this table with us,” Wes went on. “We take our meals together in this house.”

Rex knew he should have thought of that, but she seemed to be constantly moving about the kitchen. The only time she’d paused had been when Wes had said the blessing over the meal. Callie cast a taut smile at Wes and nodded. A thin wail rose from the second floor of the house, and Callie immediately began to remove her apron. It had been one of his mom’s favorites, sewn from remnants of her handmade clothing.

“That’s another thing,” Wes said to Rex, as she hurried toward the stairs. “There’s an old high chair out in the storage room in the barn. Your mom was saving it for grandchildren, but seeing as none of you kids have been cooperative on that end, it’ll do for Bodie. Probably needs some work.”

“I’ll see to it,” Rex promised.

“You do that,” Wes ordered. “Bringing those two here was a good thing, son.”

“I hope so,” Rex said. But he still had to ask Callie a question.

He got his chance a couple hours later. Wes was better, but he wasn’t up to par. Rex had helped him sponge off, check the bandages on his incisions and dress for bed. Wes’s willingness to let Rex help him was a testament to his exhaustion, which in turn showed that he still had a lot of recovery ahead of him.

Hearing Bodie babbling on the front porch, Rex walked out there to find Callie sitting in one of the chairs, holding Bodie’s hands while the baby jogged up and down around her mom’s knee, which sported a wide, wet spot where Bodie had drooled.

Bodie looked up at him, smiled and clearly said, “Hiii.”

“Hi, cutie.”

“She just started doing that,” Callie informed him with a smile. “She won’t say ‘mama’ yet, but she’s suddenly saying, ‘hi.’ Of course, she has no idea what it means.”

“Mmm,” Bodie hummed against her mother’s leg.

Rex walked around them both and sat down in the metal lawn chair next to Callie. It sagged and creaked ominously. He held his breath, but the chair seemed stable enough. With dusk settling around them, the stifling heat had begun to abate, but the only breeze stirring was that pulled in by the ceiling fan in the living room.

“I’ll get someone out here to look at the AC unit tomorrow,” he said. “According to Dad, it just needs coolant.”

Callie nodded beside him and softly said, “Wes is going to need air-conditioning to get through his chemo. He doesn’t think so, but I do. We’re two hours farther south here than Tulsa. You know how brutal these summers can be. I hate to think of him being sick to his stomach in hundred-degree heat.”

“I appreciate that,” Rex said. “I should’ve taken care of it already.”

“You’ve had other things on your mind.”

“I have. There’s something on my mind now.”

“You want to know why my dad is so upset about me working for you.”

“Yeah.”

“Ben Dolent.”

“Who?”

“Ben Dolent. He runs Dad’s grain silo, and Dad has him picked out as his next son-in-law.”

“I take it you’re not in favor of the idea.”

“No.”

“What about your first husband? Did Stuart pick him, too?”

“Oh, no,” Callie said, shaking her head and chuckling. “Bo was the exact opposite of the sort of man my dad wants me to marry.”

“What sort of man would that be?” Rex asked.

“One he can control, I guess,” Callie answered. “The kind who will do as he’s told and be glad for it.”

“And Bo wasn’t that kind of man?”

“He wasn’t.” She curved her hand around Bodie’s little head, smoothing the baby’s pale hair. “Bo didn’t care about money. He didn’t care about status. All he cared about was me, us and serving God. He had a campground ministry over at Turner Falls. Didn’t pay much. I had to work to make ends meet, but we had all we needed. For the little while we were together. We were only married a few months. He hadn’t had time to put away anything for us.”

“I’m sorry you lost him,” Rex said.

She cleared her throat, her gaze on the baby. “I’m still trying to figure out what God’s doing,” she admitted softly, shaking her head. “I just don’t understand yet. I worked and saved every penny right up until my labor started, but when Bodie was nine weeks old she got sick and couldn’t go to day care, and that’s all it took. We had to go back to my dad’s. I know it was God’s will. I just don’t believe it’s His will for me to marry Ben Dolent.”

Rex didn’t know what to say to that. His own marriage had imploded because his wife’s father had wanted a son-in-law who would “do as he’s told and be glad for it” and his wife had been only too happy to try to provide the same. When Rex had balked, the marriage had suffered. He’d sought refuge in work, thinking that if he could prove himself professionally then she would take pride in him. Instead, she’d gone to another man. He couldn’t help thinking that they’d still be together if she’d had Callie’s strength of character or if she’d loved him as much as Callie had apparently loved her husband.

He smiled at Bodie. “You named her after her father, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Her father and my mother. Bodie Jane. It seemed appropriate. She’ll never know her daddy, and I was only four when my mother died. I barely remember her.”

“It’s a good name,” he said, getting to his feet, “and it’s good that the two of you are here.”

“I’m glad you think so, especially after the way my father acted today.”

He did think so. A strong urge to put his hand on her shoulder seized him. He did it before he could stop the impulse, and the rightness of it shook him. Looking at his hand as it cupped her slender shoulder, he suddenly felt as if he hardly knew himself. The frayed cuff of his father’s old work shirt and the sheer size of his hand against her smooth, firm, woman’s frame rattled him. It was as if he’d never really seen his own hand before, never really touched a woman. He thought of Amy, and for a moment he wondered if she’d even been real. Shaking his head he took his hand away, thinking that he really needed to get some rest.

As for Callie Deviner, he was glad to have her help, but their arrangement was temporary, and even were it not, he had no intention of allowing history to repeat itself.

Pretty little Callie Deviner had the wrong sort of father.

Besides, once Wes was able to take over the reins of Straight Arrow Ranch again—or if it should be determined that Wes could never do so—Rex would be heading back to Tulsa. That’s where his life and his career were based. For as long as Rex could remember, he’d dreamed of leaving War Bonnet and the Straight Arrow Ranch. He’d wanted no part of the backbreaking drudgery that was his father’s life here, always at the mercy of the weather and whatever new disease befell the livestock or the crops.

No, this life, and any woman so obviously comfortable with this life, was not for him. That meant he would be wise to keep his distance from Callie.

“I’ll say good-night,” he told her.

“Good night.”

“I’ll, um, find that high chair in the morning.”

“It’s not important.”

“I promised Dad.”

“All right.”

He reached down to smooth a hand over Bodie Jane’s head. “Good night, precious.”

“Hiii,” she said.

Callie laughed and instructed her. “Bye-bye. Bye-bye.”

“Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh.”

Chuckling, Rex went into the house, said good-night to his father and climbed the stairs to read and wait for the dark that would bring him rest for another arduous day.