Читать книгу The Lawman Lassoes a Family - Rachel Lee - Страница 8
ОглавлениеLena was the bookkeeper for Freitag’s Mercantile. She often joked that there was little as boring in the world as a bookkeeper, unless it was a CPA. Vicki, who found her aunt anything but dull, always smiled or laughed, but she didn’t believe it. Besides, boring jobs sounded awfully good these days. For her part, until Hal’s death, she’d taught kindergarten, but there wasn’t a job available here yet.
Which was fine, she told herself as she fed Krys her breakfast, after Lena departed for a half day. Vicki wanted to spend as much time as possible with Krys, until the girl was truly settled here. In the meantime, Vicki had plenty in savings from insurance and death benefits, plus the money she and Hal had been saving toward a house. She could get by for years if necessary.
She had to deal with the present. Sitting at the table with Krys, who looked a lot perkier today, she said, “How about we set up your bedroom and playroom this morning?”
Krys tilted her head, her blue eyes bright. “Okay. I can tell you where to put everything?”
“Most of it, anyway. We’ll have to see how things fit.”
“Aunt Lena has lots of stuff.”
Vicki nodded guiltily. Lena had assured her there was ample room, and in terms of space, there was. The problem was that this house had accumulated so much over the years that the space was pretty full. With her additions, it was packed.
“We may not be able to get everything just right,” she told her daughter. “We’ll have to see where there’s room.”
Krys nodded and emptied her bowl by drinking the last of the milk from it. Vicki reached over with her napkin to wipe away a milky mustache and a few dribbles.
“Are there kids here?” her daughter asked as they headed upstairs.
“Plenty, I’m sure. Once we get some unpacking done, we’ll go look for some.”
“’Kay. I liked that man. He’s coming back, right?”
“Yes, to help with moving.” Dan Casey, another cop. Didn’t it just figure? And even in her dulled state, Vicki had noticed how attractive he was. Well, that was best buried immediately. No more cops ever, and moving on didn’t mean she was ready to dive into some relationship, anyway.
Time. She needed more time. Whoever had decided that a year was enough time for mourning evidently had never really mourned.
She pushed aside her mood and focused on enjoying Krys’s excitement. For the little girl, opening boxes and rediscovering treasures that had been steadily packed away over the past few weeks seemed to be almost like Christmas morning. Every rediscovered belonging, no matter how old or familiar, was greeted as if it were brand-new.
The child’s excitement was contagious, and Vicki joined in wholeheartedly. The bedroom was relatively easy. Lena had gotten rid of everything except a decent chest of drawers, and with Krys’s bed and the Boston rocker, all they needed to do was unpack clothes and books, and some of the stuffed animals Krys wanted in the room with her.
The playroom turned into a bigger challenge. It already contained a narrow bed, a chest and a bureau. Vicki moved the bed over against the wall, thinking that she could probably cover it with pillows and a spread, and turn it into a daybed. Krys slowed down a little, having to decide where each and every toy should go.
Vicki didn’t rush her. They weren’t going anywhere soon, and the child might as well enjoy whatever control she could over a life that had changed so drastically.
It amazed Vicki anew the number of toys Krys had, even though she herself had packed them. She and Hal had tried never to overindulge their daughter, but during the past year that had gone out the window. So often one of Hal’s colleagues would stop by bearing a gift. It was well-meant, but now Krys had way too many toys.
But she had refused to part with a single one, and Vicki hadn’t had the heart to disagree with her. Krys had lost too much, the move was a huge change, and if she needed every one of those toys for comfort, then they came along.
By noon, when Lena returned, they were only halfway through the unpacking, and Vicki suspected that Krys was dawdling a little. Getting tired or getting overwhelmed? She couldn’t really tell, and the child didn’t have the self-awareness yet to define why she was slowing down.
“Lunchtime,” Lena called up from the foot of the stairs.
Krys seemed glad of the break and hurried down. Vicki took a little longer, freshening a bit in the bathroom and wishing she had a window into her daughter’s head. Even teaching kindergarten, she sometimes found youngsters this age to be inscrutable mysteries. You could tell when something was wrong, but you couldn’t always find out what the problem was.
Krys wanted her leftover hamburger, and seemed to enjoy it even after a trip through the microwave. Lena and Vicki ate ham on rye.
“Dan called this morning. He got a half day, too, and should be over soon. I guess I need to figure out what I want moved where.”
“Lena...”
Her aunt shook her head. “No. Don’t say it. I made most of the decisions already, once you agreed to come. Vicki, believe me, I wouldn’t have kept pestering you to come here if I thought it was going to be inconvenient.”
“But—”
“Hush. We’re both going to do some adapting. It’s not a major crisis.”
Vicki wasn’t entirely certain about that, but decided to let it go unless a crisis blew up on its own.
When Dan arrived, Vicki and Krystal were pretty much relegated to the front porch swing. Lena wanted to label items that needed to be moved according to where she wanted them, and Dan accompanied her, taking notes to determine how much help he’d need.
“I could hire some people,” Vicki said at one point.
Dan merely gave her a wry look. “Don’t offend me.”
How was she supposed to take that? All she knew was that a big handsome man was moving in on her life. Her attraction to him made her feel a bit uneasy, and she quickly squashed it. Krystal yawned and curled up on the swing with her head in her mother’s lap. That effectively put Vicki out of the action.
It was a perfect day, however. A gentle breeze blew, and the temperature was somewhere in the midseventies. For a Texan it felt like spring, but this was summer in Wyoming. With her hand resting on Krystal’s shoulder, Vicki pushed the swing gently and decided to accept her exile from all the doings inside.
It was Lena’s house, and it would be handled Lena’s way.
* * *
It was nearly four when Dan emerged and went around the corner to the garage. He returned a few minutes later with two folding lawn chairs and set them on the porch. Lena appeared a little while later with a pitcher of lemonade and glasses full of ice on a tray. Krystal barely stirred. Evidently she was worn-out, whether from all the activity earlier, from the trip or from the changes, Vicki couldn’t guess. She let her daughter sleep on.
“Okay,” said Lena. “That’s half the battle done.”
“Which half?” asked Vicki.
“Everything’s labeled that I want gone. Some for basement storage, but a lot for the garage.” She grinned. “I’m going to have a big garage sale. Gawd, I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
Dan laughed quietly. “You should have told me.”
“I dither sometimes. Like I said, this place feels like the Winston Family Museum. Anyway, Vicki, I want you to go through. If you see any furniture I’ve labeled that you like, then let me know. I want the house to please you, too.”
Vicki opened her mouth, then snapped it closed.
Dan flashed her an attractive grin. “Don’t argue with Lena. There’s no winning.”
“I’m beginning to realize that.”
He glanced out toward the street. “We need to turn in that rental truck and get your car off the tow trolley.”
“There’s supposed to be someplace here in town,” Vicki said.
“On the west side. I can show you.”
At that moment, Krystal sat up. The instant she saw Dan, her face lit up.
Vicki felt her heart sink. This could turn out to be bad. Another cop. Damn, why couldn’t she escape cops?
“Go deal with it,” Lena said. “Krystal can help me with a few things after she finishes her lemonade.”
Krystal beamed.
* * *
While Vicki went inside the rental place to turn in the vehicle, Dan unhooked her car and rolled it off the trolley. It took him only a minute to reconnect her lights properly, then he leaned against the side of the truck to wait for her.
He had the distinct impression he was pushing himself into territory where he wasn’t wanted. Why, he didn’t know. It was something in Vicki’s demeanor. Not that it really mattered. He wasn’t going to stop helping Lena, and even if Vicki didn’t want him around, he felt a duty to Krystal. That girl’s daddy had been a cop, and he felt obligated to at least keep an eye on her and step up where he could.
If Vicki would allow him to.
He folded his arms and crossed his legs at the ankles, letting the afternoon sun bathe him with warmth. He knew a little about grieving. He’d lost his wife to cancer five years ago, and he still sometimes missed her so much he wondered if he could stand it. That might be what he was sensing in Vicki.
It had been only a little more than a year for her. A year was an infinity in terms of pain, but short in terms of recovering. The woman was probably a walking raw nerve ending.
He still wondered at her decision to come here. Oh, he’d been listening to Lena suggest it for months now, and knew it was what his neighbor had hoped for, but what about Vicki? She had left behind her support network, her friends, her home. And so had Krystal. Why? He’d never felt the least desire to leave Conard City after Callie’s death. Yeah, he’d eventually bought a house, but that hadn’t deprived him of anything. He and Callie had been living in one of the apartments near the college, and they’d always planned to buy their own place. He’d felt as if he was fulfilling the dream for both of them.
But it was entirely different for Vicki. And for Krystal. He kept coming back to that little girl and wondering if this were best for her. Of course, Vicki was her mother and must have had her reasons, must have determined this complete severing would benefit her in the long run.
Maybe it would. Krystal had been three when her daddy died. She probably hardly remembered him. She wouldn’t remember all that much about being four, either. Dan sure couldn’t. But she would remember this move.
At least he didn’t have a kid to worry about, so those were shoes that didn’t fit him even temporarily. He and Callie had wanted kids, though. When they found out why they couldn’t, it had been too late for Callie.
Hell. He uncrossed his ankles, straightened and scuffed his foot at the dirt. He didn’t want to run down this road again, but Vicki’s situation was reminding him. Funny how he thought he’d moved on, until something reared up to remind him he hadn’t moved as far as he thought he had.
The smart thing to do might just be to stay away, unless Lena needed him. Keep his hard-won equilibrium in place. But then he thought of Krystal, a cop’s little girl, and Vicki, a cop’s widow, and he knew it wasn’t in him to stay away.
A decent human being would help however he could. But for a cop it went beyond that. The family took care of its own, and Vicki and her daughter were family.
Simplistic, maybe, but every cop counted on that kind of support for his or her family when something bad happened.
He looked up at the sound of footsteps, and saw Vicki approaching from the office. Today she wore jeans again, but this time with a T-shirt emblazoned with the Alamo. Texan through and through, he thought, smiling faintly.
The smile she gave him looked brittle. “All done.”
He gestured to the car. “All ready.”
“Thanks.”
He hesitated a beat, then said, “I can walk back, if you like.”
Her expression turned quizzical. “Why should you do that?”
“You might be feeling a little overwhelmed.”
Her blue eyes widened a shade, then she shook her head. “Hop in, cowboy. I’m going to feel overwhelmed for a while.”
So he climbed into her little Toyota while she started the engine. It was a tight fit, but he didn’t want to push the seat back. Adjusting the car for himself struck him as an intrusion.
“Give yourself some leg room,” she said as she turned the car and drove toward the street.
She was observant. Reaching for the lever, he pushed the seat back. He sought a way into conversation that wouldn’t come out wrong. “Is this a big adventure for Krystal?”
“So far she seems to be reacting that way. This morning was like Christmas as she was unpacking her toys. And I need to find her some friends soon.”
“There’s a park just a couple blocks from the house. Swings, monkey bars, slides, sandbox. That might be a good starting point.”
“Thanks. I’ll take her there.”
Okay, then. As a cop he had become fairly good at hearing what wasn’t said. She hadn’t asked him to show her the park. She didn’t want him to. Vicki Templeton was setting boundaries wherever she could.
Fine by him. There was a difference between being there if she needed anything, and pushing himself on her. He could do the former, and it might be better in the long run. He had some rawness himself since Callie and hadn’t even dated since her death. Eventually, he supposed he would again, but he’d know when the time was right. For now, however, he couldn’t imagine anyone in Callie’s place.
Deciding that Vicki might be wise, he settled back, intending to focus solely on helping Lena clear her house.
And on Krystal. Vicki might think it was a big adventure for the child, but he’d seen her sitting on a porch swing, sucking her thumb and looking like an abandoned, weary waif.
He would do everything he could for that child. Starting with finding her a friend.
* * *
“Where’s Dan?” Lena asked, when Vicki stepped inside.
“He said he had something to do, and would see you tomorrow.” From upstairs, she could hear Krys singing at the top of her lungs. Vicki looked up. “She sounds happy.”
“For now. I left her to finish her playroom. There wasn’t much left to do, and she’s pretty certain about where she wants everything.”
“She sure is.” Vicki dropped her purse on the hall table. “I told her to put her toys where she wanted in there. I hope it was okay.”
“Perfectly okay.” Lena slipped her arm around Vicki’s shoulders. “Now let’s you and me have a quiet cup of coffee and relax for a minute. You’ve earned a chance to take a deep breath.”
Vicki hesitated only briefly. Keeping busy had become a kind of refuge for her, a way to keep grief and despair at bay. Coming here had been a way to escape the constant reminders of loss. Somehow it just hadn’t been getting easier.
Lena took them into her kitchen, which like many older ones didn’t have a lot of cabinetry or counter space, but instead had a big round table for most kitchen chores. Despite its lack of the conveniences Vicki expected, it was a large room and probably worked well. One long bank of counters and cabinets provided enough room for a microwave and a food processor, and little else. A sink with a short counter filled a second wall. That left a stove and refrigerator side by side on the third wall, and the table, which sat beneath the wide windows.
The coffee had already brewed and Lena set out two mugs for them. Vicki slid into an old oak chair at the table, saying, “We must seem like an invasion force to you.”
Lena laughed. “Actually, no. Why do you think I kept asking you to come here? This is a big old house, too big for one person, and it’s going to be yours someday, anyway. You might as well make any changes you want. Better than being caretaker of the family museum.”
Vicki laughed helplessly. “You’ve said that before. Do you really feel that way?”
“Sometimes, yes.” Lena sat near her. “When your grandparents were alive, that was one thing. The three of us got along pretty well, and the place was...well, what it was. But it’s been a while since they passed. This place echoes with just me, and I keep getting an itch to change it somehow. It always seemed like a ridiculous expense just for me. But now there’s you and Krystal, and I think changing this house around is going to be good for me. For all of us.”
“I hope so.”
Lena regarded her thoughtfully. “Does something about Dan bother you?”
Vicki started. “No. Why?”
“I know he’s a cop and you were trying to get away from being smothered by them, but he’s not like that.”
“No?” She waited, tensing.
“No. He’s a widower, you know.”
Vicki felt her heart jump uncomfortably. “He is?”
“Yup. Lost his wife to ovarian cancer a bit over five years ago. I knew her, too. Small town. Anyway, he’s become a good friend of mine, and I’d hate for you to feel uncomfortable with him.”
Vicki nodded and realized that she had indeed felt a resistance toward him. Not because of him; he hadn’t done one thing to make her feel that way. But because she feared...what, exactly? He might be a cop, but he wasn’t a reminder. She shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, Lena.”
“No need. You and I have been talking frequently since Hal died. I think I have some understanding of the problems you’ve been dealing with. It might give you some comfort to know Dan’s been through a lot of it, too. Anyway, he’s a good friend. He could be your friend, as well, but he doesn’t have to be. I just want you to know that he is my friend.”
Now Vicki felt just awful. She must have done something to cause her aunt to speak this way. “I don’t want to make him feel unwelcome.”
“I’m sure you don’t. And you’ve been dealing with a lot. I only brought it up because...well, he was supposed to come here for dinner tonight. I expected him to return with you. Did something happen?”
“Not a thing. He was very helpful, and he told me about the park where I could take Krys.”
“Well, then, I’m going to call that young man and find out what’s going on.”
If she hadn’t felt so bad, Vicki might have laughed. Dan was young enough, but Vicki wasn’t so old that she should be thinking of him as “that young man.”
Lena went to the wall phone and called Dan. “I hear you’re skipping out on dinner. You never pass on my fried chicken.”
Vicki gestured that she was going to the bathroom, then slipped out. It seemed she couldn’t escape Dan, but then she wondered why she should even want to. He’d been pleasant and helpful, and he had no ties with her past, other than Lena. What was going on inside her?
She wondered if she would ever get herself sorted out.
“Mommy?”
She looked up and saw Krystal at the head of the stairs. “Yes, sweetie?”
“I finished. Come see.”
Vicki climbed the stairs to join her daughter in her new playroom. “I heard you singing when I came home. It sounded like you were having fun.”
“Aunt Lena said I could do it myself. I’m a big girl now.”
That was the second time in two days. When she reached the top of the stairs, Vicki stroked her daughter’s blond head and wondered if she had somehow put pressure on the child, making her feel she needed to grow up faster. Even with all her experience with children, Vicki didn’t know. They all seemed to want to grow up fast. But sometimes they had reasons that were darker than their years should justify.
The organization in the room existed only in her daughter’s eyes, but Vicki praised it sincerely. This was one place Krystal could express herself and control her environment, and not for the world would Vicki take that away from her.
Then she saw a photograph on the shelf and felt gut-punched. It was a family photo of her, Hal and Krys, taken on Krys’s third birthday. Balloons decorated the background, and all three of them were beaming.
Vicki hesitated, then said, “I thought you liked that picture by your bed.”
Krys shook her head. “I can’t see him when I sleep.”
“Oh. I didn’t think of that.” The giant fist, so familiar over the past year, once again reached out and grabbed Vicki’s heart, squeezing it until she almost couldn’t breathe. Her knees weakened and she sat on the edge of the bed, which had almost disappeared beneath stuffed animals.
Krystal climbed up beside her. “See?”
Indeed, she could see. Krystal had found the place in the room where Hal’s photo could see her everywhere. His dark, smiling eyes seemed to be looking at them right now.
“Daddy likes it here,” she announced. “Tell me about my party again?”
Despite feeling as if her chest were being crushed, Vicki told the familiar story of Krystal’s third birthday party. It had become a ritual, and if she skipped even one word, Krys reminded her.
Hugging her daughter, she forced life into her voice, when she felt as if she had no life left.
* * *
Dinner with Dan had been a pleasant time. They ate at the big dining room table again with the overhead chandelier adding some cheer. He and Lena spoke about doings around the county, and Dan included Krystal as often as possible, asking her about her new playroom, but in no way pushing any boundaries.
By the time Vicki took her daughter upstairs for a bath and bed, she felt more comfortable with the whole idea of Dan being around frequently. Unlike some of Hal’s friends, he wasn’t trying to play the father role for the girl. He just treated her as if she were another friend at the table.
Later, when she went back downstairs, he was still here, chatting with Lena in the living room. Vicki wished she could enjoy the kind of comfortable friendship they seemed to, and knew she was the only one holding back.
It was always possible she might not like him as much as Lena did, but she’d never know unless she joined the two of them.
Lena had made it clear that they were friends, and that wasn’t going to change. Vicki still wasn’t sure what she had done that had made Dan originally decide not to come for dinner, but she resolved to be friendlier.
If she could figure out how. She seemed to have become somewhat socially inept after the past year. But of course, she’d stopped meeting new people and had become enclosed by the blue wall of Hank’s friends. If she sat for hours without speaking, they didn’t worry about it. They just included her, then let her be.
Despite the passage of time, she’d seemed to want to be left alone more rather than less. It was part of what had driven her to accept Lena’s invitation—the feeling that Hal’s friends, despite their best intentions, were holding her in some kind of stasis. That with them she would always be Hal’s widow.
Well, if she was to have any life at all other than being his widow and Krystal’s mom, now was the time to start. And friendship was a good place to begin.
She went to the kitchen to pour herself coffee before joining them. Once again, she found Dan and her aunt on Lena’s old couch. Vicki wondered if her recliner sofa was radioactive or something.
“Hey there,” Lena said. “Is the tyke out for the night?”
“Totally. She worked hard on her playroom today.” Vicki smiled. “And she loves it. Thanks, Lena. I can’t quite tell how she organized it, but everything is where she wants it.”
“I could get rid of that bed.”
Vicki sat on the edge of the sofa. “I don’t think you need to. It seems to have become the home for a bazillion stuffed animals.”
“We should find some things to put on the walls,” Lena remarked. “That old wallpaper just looks old, and the room hasn’t been used in so long that if it ever had any charm, it was in another era.”
Dan chuckled, and Vicki felt a smile lift her lips. “Krys seems happy with it.”
“Krys put a lot of life into it,” Lena agreed. “But I’m sure I could give her something cheerier to look at above little-girl height.” She brightened. “Let’s do that. Posters, whatever. Bright colors. I bet she’d love to help pick them.”
Vicki had no doubt of that. “Just not too much,” she said cautiously.
Lena eyed her inquisitively. “Why?”
Vicki hesitated, acutely aware that Dan would hear, and might take it wrong. “Well, our friends...” Yes, call them friends, not Hal’s colleagues, not cops. “Every time they came to see us, they brought something for Krystal. That’s why she has so many stuffed animals and toys. More than any child needs. Hal and I didn’t want to spoil her, but...” Vicki shrugged, not knowing how to finish the thought.
“Well, thank goodness,” Dan said.
Startled, she looked at him and found him almost grinning. “What?”
“Krystal was admiring the wolf on my T-shirt yesterday. You don’t know how close I came to getting her a stuffed wolf. I guess that would have been the wrong thing to do.”
Lena laughed. Vicki felt her cheeks warm. “It wouldn’t have been wrong,” she said swiftly. “I’m sure she would have loved it. It’s just that she’s spent most of past year living in a flood of gifts. That needs to slow down.”
Dan winked. “Got it. I’ll get the wolf next week.”
In spite of everything, Vicki laughed. All of a sudden her heart felt a smidgeon lighter. “That’ll work,” she said.
Dan rose to get more coffee. Lena suggested he just bring the pot into the living room.
“So what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?” Lena asked Vicki.
“Your house, your agenda.”
Lena cocked an eyebrow at her. “You don’t get off so easy. It’s your house now, too. You still haven’t gone through to tell me if I’ve labeled any furniture for removal that you might want to keep. And we need to get at your unpacking.”
Vicki was glad Dan wasn’t in the room at that moment, because what burst out of her sounded anything but adult. “Lena, this is so hard.”
Her aunt instantly came to sit beside her and hug her. “I know, my sweet girl. I know. Don’t let me pressure you.”
“It’s not that,” Vicki admitted. “It’s that I seem to have made all the decisions I can make. I don’t know if I can make any more. And I’m not even sure I made the right ones. What if this is all wrong for Krystal?”
Dan froze in the foyer as he heard what Vicki said. The worn oriental rug beneath his feet had silenced his steps, and he was certain neither of the women knew he was there. Should he go back into the kitchen? But the anguish in Vicki’s voice riveted him to the spot.
He understood the torment of losing your spouse, and he was intimately acquainted with the decisions that eventually had to be made. Few of them were easy; all of them were painful. You could either turn your life into a living gravestone, or you could chose to move ahead.
But moving ahead meant making painful choices. The day he had realized that he needed to take his wife’s clothing to the Red Cross had sent him over an emotional cliff edge. Lena talked about living in her family’s museum. Well, he’d done that, too. He’d lived in a museum of his life with Callie. He supposed Vicki had done the same thing.
But his choices hadn’t been as broad or sweeping as the ones Vicki had just made. She hadn’t just closed up her own museum, but she’d left the only place familiar to her, everyone she knew, and she’d taken her daughter on the journey with her.
Hearing her fear that she might not have done right by Krystal pierced him. How she must have agonized over making the correct decisions.
He heard Lena speak again, quietly. “I’m sorry, my dear. I’m truly sorry. I keep wanting to be cheerful, and keep moving us along, and I forget how hard this must be. I’ve never had to do anything like it. It was different when your grandparents died. They were old, they were sick, it was time. And I didn’t have to do anything except stay right here and let time do its work. You’ve chosen a much harder path.”
“What if it’s the wrong one?” Vicki asked, her voice strained.
“I can’t guarantee it’s not. Only time will tell. But I listened to you enough to know all the thought you put into deciding to move here. And I know that never at any point did you forget about your daughter.”
Silence. Dan closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing Vicki’s fears and pain. He didn’t know what he could do about any of it, but he was determined to try. Then he heard Lena speak again.
“All right,” she said, “no more decisions for you unless you feel like making them. There’s really no rush, you know. I shouldn’t have pressured you. Take a break. We’ll sort out everything when you’re ready.”
Dan suddenly realized he’d been gone too long. After stepping backward on the rug to the kitchen door, he headed for the living room again, making his footsteps heavier this time.
When he entered the room, Lena was still sitting beside Vicki.
“Coffee, anyone?” he asked casually.
