Читать книгу A Family for Thanksgiving - Patricia Davids - Страница 11

October 27

Clay Logan had barely stepped down from his horse before Mrs. Dewey threw her arms around him again.

“Thank you, Clay. Thank you so very, very much.”

His neck was going to have a permanent crick in it if she didn’t let up soon.

Her husband, standing beside the second trail horse, lifted his seven-year-old daughter, Karen, out of the saddle. Walking over, he grabbed Clay’s hand in a vicelike grip and began pumping it up and down. “We owe you a debt of gratitude that we’ll never be able to repay.”

Clay’s boss, Hollister Dodd, owner of the Canadian Wilderness Guide Service, had come out onto the wide porch of the lodge at the Chilihota Ranch. He watched the return of his clients from their packhorse excursion with a puzzled expression on his face.

“It was nothing, ma’am. Honest,” Clay managed to mutter past Mrs. Dewey’s stranglehold.

She took a step back. “I don’t know how you can say that. You saved our daughter’s life!”

“What’s this?” Hollister came forward to take the reins of Mrs. Dewey’s horse.

“Tanner pushed me in the lake.” Safe in her father’s arms, Karen, a blond-haired, blue-eyed pixie and the bane of Clay’s existence for the last two weeks, scowled at her older brother still sitting on his horse.

“It was an accident,” fourteen-year-old Tanner mumbled.

Something in his tone caught Clay’s attention and brought back memories of his own childhood. His brother, Jesse, used to sound just like that when he was explaining why Clay had landed in trouble while Jesse was supposed to be watching him.

Hollister’s gaze focused on Clay. “When did this happen?”

Mr. Dewey spoke up quickly. “Please don’t think Clay was negligent in any way. We made camp last evening at White Lake. The kids were horsing around on that big boulder that juts out like a ship’s prow. Clay cautioned them several times to get off the rock.”

He had, but little miss daredevil just had to see how close to the edge she could get. In a way, she reminded Clay of himself at that age. No wonder Jesse had been glad to see the last of him.

Hollister relaxed once he realized the family didn’t intend to sue him for all he was worth. Stepping up to Mr. Dewey, he ruffled Karen’s hair. “I’ll bet it was a cold dip.”

She nodded, and Clay had to agree. His dive from the rock ledge fifteen feet up had plunged him deep into the frigid waters of the snow-fed lake. The shock all but paralyzed his muscles. Even now, he marveled that he’d managed to reach the girl in the icy depths and find the strength to get them both to shore.

Mrs. Dewey pressed her hand to her heart as tears welled up in her eyes. “When Karen fell, Clay didn’t hesitate. He jumped in to save her. I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t acted so quickly.” Her voice cracked, and she couldn’t go on.

Her husband reached out to draw her close. She buried her face in his shoulder, her arms encircling both her husband and her child. Mr. Dewey said, “Karen can’t swim. Clay saved her life.”

In spite of their praise, Clay knew he hadn’t done it alone.

Even now, he wasn’t sure he trusted what he’d felt, but it had been as real as the icy water around him. Deep beneath the surface, at the moment all his energy had been sapped and he was sure Karen was lost forever, a healing presence had come over him. It gave him the strength he needed to reach the child and get her to shore.

God had been with him in that lake. He had no other explanation.

After the death of his parents when he was nineteen, Clay felt God had abandoned him and his family. It seemed better to live life without trusting in an almighty power that had failed him so completely. Clay had turned his back on the faith he’d grown up with. To his way of thinking, God didn’t care much about Clay Logan, so Clay Logan wouldn’t care about Him.

It was something of a shock to discover he’d been wrong.

Mr. Dewey extended his hand to Clay again. “If there is ever anything I can do for you, young man, all you have to do is ask.”

Looking stunned at the tale, Hollister asked, “Does Karen need to see a doctor? I’ll be happy to cover the cost.”

Karen scowled fiercely at him. “No! I won’t go to the doctor, and you can’t make me. He’ll give me shots.”

Mrs. Dewey wiped the tears from her cheeks with her palms. “You don’t have to have any shots, honey.”

Mr. Dewey shrugged. “It’s amazing, but she seems fine.”

“I’d feel better if you at least spoke to a doctor about this. Come inside and use my phone.”

With Hollister leading the way, the trio followed him into the lodge leaving Tanner still sitting on his horse.

Clay studied the boy’s dejected posture. He knew something of what the boy had to be feeling. “Care to give me a hand putting the horses away?”

“I guess.”

Dismounting, Tanner fell into step beside Clay as they led the animals to the barn. Inside, the building held a dozen large stalls filled with thick straw waiting to give the weary trail ponies a well-deserved rest. The warm smell of horses, grain and hay were scents Clay knew well. He’d grown up on a ranch, and he’d spent his whole life as a cowboy.

Side by side, Clay and Tanner worked in silence following the routine Clay had taught the teen and his family during their trek into the wilderness. The boy’s attention to detail, his willingness to follow directions and lend a hand had made him an ideal partner on their recent trip, unlike his less-than-helpful little sister.

“I didn’t push her. I was trying to pull her back from the edge,” Tanner said at last, as he slowly brushed down his mare.

“I’m not sure I’d blame you if you had. I considered it more than once.” Clay pulled the heavy saddle and sweaty blanket off his horse and threw it over the stall door with ease.

Chuckling, Tanner began brushing with renewed vigor. “She is a pain.”

“No kidding. You have my sympathy.”

“Mom and my stepdad spoil her rotten.”

“And anything she does wrong you get blamed for because you’re the oldest.”

Tanner looked surprised. “You must have a sister, too.”

“I do. Her name is Maya, but she wasn’t the one who caused the trouble in our family. That was all me.”

“Is your sister the oldest?”

“No, she’s the baby, but I have an older brother.”

Neither of which he’d seen in seven years. Had it really been that long? How much longer would it be until Jesse forgave him? Would he ever?

And what about Nicki? Did she ever think about him? He thought about her far too often.

Each time Clay received a call from Maya he wanted to ask about Nicki, but jumping off a fifteen-foot cliff into a freezing lake was a whole lot easier.

“How can I get a job like this?” Tanner asked, breaking into Clay’s somber thoughts.

“You bum around for a while, take odd jobs on ranches, wander farther and farther away.” His voice trailed off as the aimlessness of his past hit him.

Was that all his life had been up to this point? Where did it go from here?

“Away from what?” Tanner asked.

“For me, a place called High Plains, Kansas.”

Away from the windswept prairie. From the rolling Flint Hills covered in deep green grass where cattle grew fat and sleek and a boy could ride all day without seeing anyone but a lone hawk circling overhead against a sky so blue it hurt his eyes.

Clay patted his horse’s neck as he stared at the snowcapped Rocky Mountains outside the doorway without really seeing them. Instead, he saw Nicki looking shy and beautiful; saw the moonlight reflected in her eyes as she gazed up at him inside the gazebo by the river.

He’d kissed a few women since that night, but none of them matched the sweetness of Nicki’s lips.

And all he’d done for her in return was to sully her good name.

He could still hear Jesse’s voice raised in anger condemning Clay for ruining her reputation and for so much more unspoken between them. A condemnation Clay knew he deserved.

He glanced at Tanner. The boy was still waiting for his advice. “Ask Mr. Dodd about hiring you on as a summer hand. If he and your folks say yes, then prove you’re reliable and willing to do the tough jobs. After a year or two of learning the ropes he might let you guide.”

“My stepdad wants me to start working for him when I turn sixteen, but I’d rather be a cowboy.”

Clay threw back his head and laughed. “Your dad owns the largest hotel-building company in Dallas. He’s worth millions of dollars. Go to work for him. It’ll pay a whole lot better.”

Tanner managed a sheepish grin. “Will you be here next year?”

“Will your folks leave the princess back at the castle?”

“Not much chance of that.”

“Then I may be looking for work elsewhere. Two weeks with that girl’s fits and tantrums was more than enough for me.”

This had been his last trip of the season. Soon, the mountains and valleys would be covered in a snow blanket that would last until April. Hollister had already offered to let Clay stay on over the winter, but he hadn’t made up his mind yet. He’d been guiding here for three years, the longest he’d spent in one place since leaving home, but lately he’d been feeling restless again. Like it was time to move on.

“Do you have kids?” Tanner asked.

“Me?” Clay shook his head. “I’m not the settle-down-raise-a-family kind of guy. That’s my brother’s thing.”

Why was it that his words didn’t carry the conviction he normally felt? Maybe it was because Tanner reminded him so much of Jesse, and Jesse had been on Clay’s mind a lot.

He should have been there for Jesse when his wife died.

Clay moved to the second horse waiting to be unsaddled. He hadn’t learned about Marie’s death until three weeks after the fact. The phone call from Maya back in July had missed Clay by two days. By then, he’d been deep in the Canadian wilderness with a hunting party and couldn’t be reached.

He returned his sister’s call as soon as he got back to the lodge, but her home and cell phones had both been disconnected. Worried sick, he’d gritted his teeth and called Jesse to find out what was going on.

It was the first time the brothers had spoken in seven years.

Clay could still hear the hard, stilted tone of Jesse’s voice as he recounted how his wife had been killed during a tornado that touched down in the area.

Thousands of miles away and weeks after her death, Clay hadn’t known what to say. His heart went out to Jesse, but he couldn’t find the words he needed to offer his brother comfort. It had always been that way between them. How could two sons of the same parents be so different?

Clay had finally asked, “Do you want me to come home?”

Oh, how he needed Jesse to say yes, but his tough-as-nails sibling replied, “Don’t rush back on my account. We’ve managed without you this long.”

It didn’t take a genius to read between the lines. What Jesse meant was don’t come back at all. Jesse hadn’t forgiven Clay for his role in the death of their parents. The hurt went bone-deep.

Clay had gone back into the wilderness with his next group of clients a few days later. Weeks after his call to Jesse, Clay learned about his sister’s marriage in much the same fashion. This time, there had been a letter waiting for him when he got back to the ranch.

He would have liked to have been there for Maya’s big day, but it seemed that she and her new husband, Greg Garrison, were in a hurry so they could foster a six-year-old boy named Tommy Jacobs.

Since Maya already had a three-year-old daughter, Clay realized he now had more relatives that he hadn’t met than ones he knew. Jesse had triplet daughters that were only a few months old, and he was raising them by himself. Jesse never did things the easy way.

“High Plains, Kansas. Where is that?” Tanner asked. “My grandparents live in Wichita.”

From behind them, Karen’s know-it-all voice cut in. “That’s where my class sent a big card on the first day of school. We all signed it.”

“Oh, right,” Tanner replied. “The town that was almost wiped out by a tornado.”

Clay glanced between the kids. “Are you sure you aren’t thinking of Greensburg?”

Karen’s face scrunched into a scowl. She threw a handful of straw at Clay. “My teacher said High Plains!”

“Karen, be nice,” Tanner chided.

“You’re not the boss of me,” she shot back, making a face and sticking her tongue out at him.

Tanner finished his horse and turned the animal loose in the stall. “She’s right. It was High Plains. It was all over the news for a couple of days. If Mr. Hollister will let us use his computer, I can show you the story on the Internet.”

Karen rolled her eyes. “We could have used mine, but Dad wouldn’t let me bring my laptop. He said this was going to be a real old-fashioned vacation.”

Clay gaped at her. “You have a laptop? Aren’t you in, what, the first grade?”

She snatched up two more handfuls of straw to fling at him. “Second grade!”

Karen’s brush with death hadn’t reduced her sassiness one bit.

Tanner walked toward the barn door. “Ignore her. It works for me.”

Fifteen minutes later, Clay was leaning over Tanner’s shoulder as he pulled up picture after picture of High Plains, shredded by a tornado. Hundred-year-old trees stripped bare, building and cars reduced to shattered jumbles of rubble.

Why hadn’t Jesse or Maya told him about this?

Because they think I don’t care.

Maya had mentioned in her letter that the cleanup was continuing after the storm and that she and Greg were planning to hold a wedding reception in the Old Town Hall when repairs were finished, hopefully by Christmas. She’d also written to expect an invitation.

Clay had no idea the damage to High Plains had been so severe. He couldn’t believe he had to find out what had happened to his hometown from strangers when he’d spoken to Jesse on the phone only weeks after the event.

Clay had to acknowledge that he hadn’t exactly stayed on the line to chitchat with Jesse after learning about Marie’s death. Had Maya assumed Jesse filled Clay in on the details of the storm? She must have, or she would have tried contacting him again.

With a sinking heart, he realized his silence all these months probably convinced her he didn’t care.

Next, Tanner brought up a national news story about the storm’s aftermath. As shots of the devastation flashed by in a slide show, Clay stared at them in shock. He recognized the ruins as buildings in the downtown area. The town he knew was all but gone. Wiped out in a day.

Suddenly, a familiar face flashed onto the screen. A second later another picture of a broken building replaced it.

Clay gripped Tanner’s shoulder. “Stop. Go back.”

Tanner did as he asked. Clay leaned closer to the monitor. Nicki stood in front of a pile of rubble with her arm around an old woman clinging to a broken umbrella. Nicki’s face glistened with tears.

His heart ached for the look of loss in her eyes, but she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Time hadn’t changed that.

He read the caption under the photo: “High Plains residents console each other near the ruins of their historic Old Town Hall.”

Clay closed his eyes as a feeling of helplessness swallowed him whole. He should be there. Jesse, Maya, Nicki, the whole community had suffered a terrible loss, and he hadn’t done a thing to help.

“Is that someone you know?” Tanner’s voice broke into Clay’s thoughts.

“Yeah.” Someone he used to know. Someone he’d left behind a long time ago. What a stupid, stupid mistake that had been.

Shame, anger and guilt had driven Clay out of town. His juvenile pride had kept him away. All this time. All this wasted time.

The next page Tanner brought up was dated the previous month. It was a story about the rebuilding efforts in High Plains. According to the article, the first overwhelming response of volunteers had dwindled leaving much of the town still struggling to recover.

With startling clarity Clay saw what he needed to do, saw for the first time in his life the path God wanted him to follow.

He patted Tanner’s shoulder. “Thanks for showing me this.”

Turing around, Clay strode out of the inner office and crossed the lobby to where his boss stood beside the wide stone fireplace visiting with Mr. and Mrs. Dewey.

“Hollister, I’m leaving. Send my last paycheck to my sister. You’ve got her address.”

The man’s craggy features settled into a scowl. “Leaving? Where’re you going?”

Clay was already halfway out the door. He paused and looked over his shoulder. “Somewhere I should have gone a long time ago. Home.”

One second Nicki was walking down the sidewalk across from the construction site at the Old Town Hall and the next second her world tipped sideways.

Stumbling to a halt, she blinked and looked again. The mirage didn’t vanish. The heavy thud of her heart stole her breath, leaving her numb with shock.

Clay Logan stood not fifty feet away, his hands shoved in the pockets of a brown sheepskin-lined jacket as he hunched against the cutting wind. It was only the second day of November, but the deep chill in the air was a reminder that winter wasn’t far away.

What was Clay doing here? How long had he been back in town? How long was he staying?

He hadn’t seen her. She was thankful for that small favor as she struggled to regain her composure. He was surveying a bare patch of earth ringed with old concrete footings. It was all that remained of the large gazebo that once stood in the middle of the town’s park.

Was he as saddened by its loss as she had been?

So much of the tornado-ravaged town was in the process of being rebuilt, homes, businesses, the historic Old Town Hall. Fixing the gazebo wasn’t even on the list of things the overwhelmed city council had planned.

Besides, another gazebo would never be the same.

As if aware that someone was watching him, Clay turned to look in her direction. His shoulders stiffened. For a long instant they stared at each other without moving. Then, he touched the brim of his black cowboy hat to acknowledge her.

She wished she were closer, wished she could see the expression in his eyes.

Was the love still there?

Of course it wasn’t. What a foolish thing to wonder. They’d been starry-eyed teenagers the last time they’d seen each other.

Don’t just stand here. Walk away. Pretend it doesn’t matter that he’s back, she told herself.

She wouldn’t let it matter. She’d wasted enough years of her life hoping for his return. Forcing herself to take a step, she flinched when she realized he was already moving toward her, closing the distance.

Turning around and running in the opposite direction suddenly seemed like a good idea. But running away was Clay’s specialty, not hers.

The thought stiffened her spine. She shifted her large green-and-orange striped tote to her other shoulder and waited. As he approached, she saw that the years had changed his good looks from boyish charm into chiseled masculinity.

Dark stubble covered his square chin and the planes of his cheeks. Crow’s-feet at the corners of his deep blue eyes added character to his face, but the soft grin that pulled at one corner of his mouth was still the same one she remembered.

A swirl of butterflies filled her midsection. The sight of that slow smile aimed in her direction used to melt her heart like butter in a hot pan.

Stop. What am I doing?

Nicki gathered her scattered wits. Roguish grin or not, she wasn’t about to fall back into some bygone, teenage hero-worship mode. She had far too much sense for that.

Time to start acting like it.

“As I live and breathe, if it isn’t Clay Logan. I almost didn’t recognize you. What’s it been, five years?” She was proud that her tone carried just the right touch of indifference. If only he didn’t notice the white-knuckled grip she had on the strap of her bag.

His smile disappeared. “It’s been seven years, Nicki.”

“That long?” She tsked as she shook her head. “Time sure flies, doesn’t it?”

She swept one hand toward the park indicating the broken trees and rubble piles that hadn’t yet been removed. “As you can see, things have changed a lot since you were here.”

“I guess they have,” he replied, a sad quality in his voice. His gaze never left her.

Tipping her head to one side, she narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t really expect things would be the same as when you left, did you?”

He pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “No, but I wasn’t prepared for exactly how different things would be.”

At that moment, he looked lost and uncertain. Sympathy overrode her ire. She’d had four months to become accustomed to the scarred face of High Plains. He must be seeing it for the first time. It had to be painful.

She said, “The tornado really made a mess of things. The downtown area was hit pretty hard. The General Store is gone, as are most of the homes south of Garrison Street between First and Second.”

Still holding his hat, he used it to point toward the line of broken trees in the park that ran between the High Plains river and the town’s Main Street. “It’s hard to believe only one person was killed.”

“Yes. God was with us. The carriage house beside the church and the Old Town Hall both took direct hits. Volunteers from the community are rebuilding the hall, as you can see. The hope is that it’ll be done in time to hold the Founders’ Day celebration on Christmas Day.”

“Looks like they’re making good progress.”

“With the outside, yes, but the inside is still bare studs.”

“What about you? Did you lose much?”

Waving a hand to dismiss her minor losses, she said, “A broken window. That was all.” And the photo of the two of them that she’d tossed in the trash that night.

Hitching her bag higher, she flashed a bright smile. “I need to get going. It was good seeing you again, Clay.”

Stepping around him, she was surprised when he reached out and took hold of her elbow. “Nicki, I’m sorry.”

Don’t do this, Clay. Not after all this time. I waited so long for you.

Keeping the smile on her face cost her dearly. Her cheek muscles ached with the effort. “What are you sorry about?”

He studied her with a puzzled frown. “For taking off like that.”

Was he really expecting her to just forgive him? To say the last seven years didn’t matter? She had some pride. There was no way she’d let him see how much he’d hurt her.

“It’s water under the bridge, Clay. We were just kids. It wasn’t like we were soul mates or something.”

He didn’t reply, but he released her. His hand dropped to his side. “I’m glad you didn’t hold it against me.”

Her mind screamed at her to leave before he saw though the veil she’d pulled over her turbulent emotions, but she couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of him. The urge to fling herself into his arms and hug him was overwhelming. Why did he still have such an effect on her?

Forcing herself to take a step back, she quickly said, “I hope you enjoy your visit. I know Maya and Jesse must be excited that you’re home.”

A hint of his grin reappeared as he settled his Stetson on his head. “Maya might be happy. Jesse? I’m thinking not so much.”