Читать книгу Second Chance in Dry Creek - Janet Tronstad - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Gracie sat in the back of the sheriff’s car and looked straight ahead. Tyler had gone home and the rest of them were headed to the hospital. It was bitter cold out, but the heat inside the vehicle was stifling, so she had removed her jacket. Now she wished she’d taken time to find a cotton blouse to go with her jeans instead of pulling on the first thing she had seen in her closet, a heavy black turtleneck. The waiting room at the hospital would be chilly, though, she reminded herself.

A few months ago, when her oldest son, Wade, had hurt his thumb, she’d dragged him there to see a doctor, and the automatic door in the reception area had seemed to open whenever anyone walked in front of it. The room got so much fresh air it was hard to heat or cool. She could still hear the incessant sliding of that door in her mind.

“Hold on,” the sheriff said as he turned off the gravel road, taking a shortcut to the highway. Bits of gravel pinged against the underside of the car, but Gracie hardly noticed. The darkness was thick except for the focused beam of the county car as the sheriff drove them down the dirt road, following the path that the Elkton Ranch trucks used every fall as they took their cattle to market.

The sheriff’s actions reminded Gracie of how important it was to get to the hospital quickly.

She suddenly felt apprehensive. Who knew what was happening with Renee? And it wasn’t just her wound that could be giving her trouble. When Gracie had taken Wade to the clinic, the receptionist had recognized the Stone family name. Gracie wondered if Renee would face the same kind of questions from the staff that she had fielded on that day. There were not many criminals around here, and they stood out.

Gracie didn’t know why people were so curious about her time in prison, but they were. Maybe it was all the cop shows that were on television. The news that she had been declared innocent had stirred up almost as much gossip as when she had been found guilty ten years ago. She frequently spoke about the Bible study group she’d belonged to in prison, but she never talked about the rest of her prison experience. She didn’t want to even call up those memories. Once she started, the hopeless faces all came back to her. Susie, who had the teenage sons that refused to come to visit her. Martha, who worried about her elderly mother. The woman from Idaho who longed for the ocean and had died of an overdose in her cell after someone had smuggled drugs in to her.

In an abrupt motion, Calen turned around to look at her, and she wondered if she had made some distressed sound without being aware of it. Just thinking about her days behind bars made her sad.

“You okay?” he asked.

She couldn’t see his eyes in the dark, so she couldn’t tell if they were full of pity. But then, he couldn’t see her face either, so he wouldn’t notice the tears that had sprung to her eyes. He probably thought the sheriff’s sudden turn with the car had startled her. He should know a rancher like her knew the usefulness of all the dirt roads around here.

“Everything’s fine,” Gracie said, forcing herself to be cheerful, as she glanced over at the dark shape beside her. Tessie was napping in her child seat.

“I know it’s late,” Calen muttered apologetically, still watching her. “You must be tired.”

“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

“Something worrying you?”

“Just my sons. They—” Gracie caught herself in time. Calen didn’t need to know her sons were pressuring her to get married again. No one needed to know that particular fact. “They can be a little stubborn at times when they get an idea into their heads.”

Calen chuckled then, his voice suddenly warm and relaxed. “What is it this time? I remember Tyler laid out his plans once for how he was going to raise a llama on your place with no one knowing. He figured he’d build a shelter for it down in the coulee where we were fishing, and feed it with oats he’d sneak away from the barn.”

“I didn’t know.” Gracie felt exposed. How could this man know more about her youngest son than she did?

“I think it was supposed to be a Christmas surprise. Nothing ever came of it, though.”

“Ahh,” Gracie murmured. Her sons always had wanted a spectacular Christmas. Maybe that’s why Buck had been so set against the day. Her late husband had been jealous of anything that took attention away from him. All he ever allowed in the way of a holiday celebration was to have their closest neighbors, the Mitchells, over for dinner. And, since Gracie had found out he’d been having an affair with Tilly Mitchell, she didn’t suppose she could count his neighborliness as being selfless, even in that regard. Gracie had always used her best china, too, for those dinners. She shook her head at how naive she had been.

After a moment of silence, Calen turned to face the front again.

Before long, the sheriff drove the car onto the freeway. He cleared this throat almost at the same time and looked into the rearview mirror. “Did Tessie talk to you while you were in the house changing your clothes?”

“No,” Gracie conceded. She wasn’t sure, but she thought even a two-year-old should have a few dozen words in her vocabulary. Maybe Tessie couldn’t talk normally. The toddlers at church were always chattering away.

“Well, she’s been through a tough night,” the lawman said.

No one had anything to add to that.

After a few more miles, Gracie noticed the extra straps on the back of the front seats. She had expected the mesh division that separated the rear seat from the driver, but she hadn’t realized they’d also added new straps to these sheriff cars.

The county had gotten a new car for Sheriff Wall in the time since he had arrested her ten years ago. The vehicle still had the same smell to it, though. It wasn’t unpleasant exactly, but it did make her realize that fear had an odor all its own.

Tessie wasn’t the only one who had been through a lot tonight. Gracie figured the toddler’s mother was only at the beginning of her ordeal. Gracie knew what it felt like to be arrested, and she figured Renee would find out before long. Everything changed once a person was on the wrong side of the law. A prison was designed to make a person feel trapped and helpless. Even though Gracie had been innocent, that did not mean the same problems that the other inmates faced didn’t weigh on her mind.

“Renee’s going to be worried about her daughter,” Gracie said. “They probably won’t let us see her yet, but one of the nurses can give Renee a message.”

She wondered if that same receptionist would be on duty. If so, maybe the Stone family’s notoriety could be used for something positive. If the woman took a message, Gracie might even answer one or two of her personal questions.

Gracie didn’t know what would happen to Tessie if her mother went to prison, but armed robbery would carry a long sentence. She would not put that into words, but everyone in this car was probably thinking the same thing.

Gracie looked up at Calen. His shoulders were slumped a little as he sat in the front seat, his head bowed slightly. She wondered if he was praying. She hoped so. At least Renee and Tessie had him to take care of them.

And, we all have You, Father, she prayed. She hadn’t had the assurance of God’s love when she had gone to prison. And it would have made a huge difference.

She sat back then, trying to picture Calen as a father. Or even a husband, for that matter. She finally gave up and smiled. The stories Buck used to tell of him and Calen in high school did not match up with the man she’d seen tonight.

“Do you still have that trophy Buck gave you?” Gracie asked after a few minutes.

Calen grunted and turned around again. “That thing will be at the bottom of my closet until the day I die. Unless I sell it for junk metal first. Only Buck would give me a brass trophy that said Number One Romeo of Custer Country.”

The man’s voice sounded better, at least. Gracie was glad they did have some good memories they could share.

“He found that trophy in some pawnshop,” Calen continued. “But he had the words re-done. I think he gave up one of his good knives in trade for it. Just to give me a hard time—calling me Romeo.”

“Well, you always were popular with the girls,” Gracie teased him softly.

“Not with the one that mattered,” he shot back too quickly to have thought about it.

She didn’t know what to say to that. She ran through the names of the girls in their class, trying to figure out which one he’d been sweet on. She was surprised Buck hadn’t told her. Even though everyone knew Buck was her boyfriend, he didn’t like her being around other people and she missed out on most of the gossip. For all of Calen’s flirting, she couldn’t remember ever hearing that he had been serious about anyone.

By the time she had decided to ask him who he meant, he’d already turned around and the moment was gone. Then a semitruck passed and made too much noise for talking. She watched the red taillights for a while. There was seldom much traffic on the freeway going through this part of the state, and it was particularly deserted in the middle of the night.

Gracie settled back against the seat. She hadn’t thought about those old high school days for years. The only time she had seen Calen during her marriage was that one night when he’d brought Buck home after her husband had passed out from drinking too much in some bar. She’d been so embarrassed; she’d told Calen more than she should have about her life with Buck. She couldn’t bring herself to admit that her husband hit her regularly, but she knew the ranch foreman had sensed her unhappiness. She’d felt close to him that night. That’s when he’d given her the number for his private phone at the Elkton bunkhouse.

Funny how she’d thought of that phone number so often back then that she’d memorized it. She’d almost dialed it a time or two when Buck had gotten particularly out of hand, but she never did. She was saving it as a last resort.

It wasn’t long before Gracie saw the outlines of buildings that, even in the dark, marked the outskirts of Miles City. The hospital was at the main exit. She could tell from the green numbers on the dash of the car that it was a little after two o’clock in the morning. She hated to wake up Tessie, but they needed to be inside asking about the child’s mother as soon as possible.

“They have coffee in the vending machines inside,” Calen said as the sheriff pulled into the parking lot. Light streamed out of the windows of the hospital. “And I have lots of dollar bills.”

Gracie nodded. The rest of the night promised to be long.

* * *

The sheriff stepped out of the car the minute it stopped and headed toward the hospital.

Soon after that, Calen closed his door, wondering if he should offer to carry Tessie. He didn’t want to startle his granddaughter.

“I should have a stroller.” He opened the door for Gracie so she could bring the sleeping child out of the backseat with her. “She’s too heavy for—”

“For someone my age,” Gracie said with a grimace as she swung her legs out of the car and then stood up, settling Tessie against her shoulder.

“She’s too heavy for anyone,” Calen corrected, as he moved close enough to grab Gracie if she needed help.

By that time, the sheriff was almost to the hospital.

The lawman stopped and turned. “I’ll send word when I’ve had a chance to see Renee.”

Then he stepped up to the entrance door.

“You can go with him if you want,” Gracie offered as she looked over at Calen. “I know you’re worried.”

They were still yards from the hospital and going slow.

He shook his head. “I can’t leave you alone to carry Tessie.”

Calen wasn’t used to someone else taking on his responsibility, even temporarily. Especially when the wind had started to blow and a few drops of cold rain had already landed on his face. Then he saw, under an overhang, just what he needed—a hospital wheelchair.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, as he ran over there and rolled the chair back to where Gracie stood.

“Next best thing to a stroller,” Calen said. “Tessie will be fine in one of these.”

Gracie looked relieved when Tessie was settled in the chair.

“I can push it,” he said then. The girl was still half-asleep, but she didn’t seem to care who was behind her as long as Gracie walked along beside her and held her hand. They moved much faster with the chair.

Calen blinked as they crossed through the doorway into the main waiting room of the hospital. After all the darkness of the night, the light seemed particularly bright, so they stood inside for a moment and allowed their eyes to adjust.

“You must be the father,” a young woman called to Calen from the check-in desk, so he pushed the wheelchair closer.

“For Renee Hampton?” the receptionist added.

He didn’t know any Hamptons, but the woman set a clipboard down on the counter in front of him.

“The paramedics said you’d be coming,” she added.

“Yes.” Calen felt proud. He didn’t care what last name his daughter gave. He hadn’t been labeled a father often in his life, and he liked the feeling.

“They said you wouldn’t know much, but do your best with the forms.” The woman smiled as she pointed.

Calen picked up the clipboard. “Thanks.”

He noticed then that the woman’s smile tightened. She’d finally noticed Gracie standing beside him. “You’re Mrs. Stone, aren’t you?”

The receptionist’s voice was barely polite. It had an avid tone to it, though, as if she expected something awful to happen and was anticipating it.

Gracie didn’t respond in kind. She nodded and smiled quite pleasantly. “I was hoping you can tell us how Renee is doing.”

“I’m afraid that would be a violation of our policy,” the receptionist said, more shortly than was necessary, in Calen’s opinion.

“Did Sheriff Wall go in?” Calen asked, thinking maybe that was the reason for the sudden coldness.

The receptionist nodded. Her eyes warmed as she looked at him. “But he didn’t say why.”

“Good,” Gracie muttered at his side. “Shows some sense.”

The receptionist did not even look at Gracie.

Calen thought the awkwardness might be in his own mind until the young woman leaned forward, speaking to the side as though to shut Gracie out. “One of the paramedics told me Renee had been shot. And not in a hunting accident, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s nothing but speculation,” Gracie responded sharply, and then stepped closer to the counter as though forcing the young woman to deal with her.

The hospital worker, her cheeks bright pink from the reproof, did not respond.

“I’m sure the sheriff will sort it all out.” Calen kept his voice as neutral as possible. Years of managing squabbles among the men on the Elkton Ranch had taught him not to throw fuel on any fire. There were no other people in the waiting room, but a public spectacle would do no good right now.

Calen turned then and, motioning for Gracie to go first, started to push the wheelchair over to a line of chairs on the opposite wall. A stack of blankets sat on a small table next to the chairs. He figured Gracie only accompanied him because he had Tessie. The woman was still upset.

Calen picked a pink blanket from the stack and spread it over his granddaughter. Then he sat down.

“People shouldn’t gossip,” Gracie whispered after she lowered herself into the chair next to him.

“There’s no way we can keep something like this quiet.” Calen looked over at Gracie. In the light, he could see that her hair was partially pulled out of her braid. Tessie’s work, no doubt. He felt the urge to smooth the hair back, but he didn’t think she would like it.

“The newspapers around here are pretty good, though,” he finally said. “They know not to speculate too much, especially if there’s going to be a trial.”

“That’s not the way I remember it,” Gracie protested, her voice low and bitter. “The newspapers around here print anything if they think it will sell a few more papers. They certainly covered my return last year. Like the arrest itself a decade ago wasn’t enough.”

Calen crossed his leg so he could rest the clipboard on his right foot, but he didn’t start filling in the information. He cleared his throat instead and said the words he owed her. “I should have apologized years ago for not coming to your defense when you were arrested.”

“I never asked for any help.”

He nodded. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have offered it.”

Gracie didn’t say anything. She stared down at the floor as if she was caught up in memories.

“I was baking a cake that day,” she finally said as she looked up. “A lemon chiffon. Buck’s favorite. We’d had a fight about letting the boys go ice skating. I thought maybe if he had a piece of cake, he’d change his mind. It was a few days after Christmas, and I thought they needed to have some fun before they went back to school. It wasn’t until I heard Wade yelling from the barn that I knew something was wrong.”