[Lonestar 01] - Lonestar Sanctuary
"Rick! I've missed you." She patted him on the arm and looked up at Betsy on Rick's shoulders. "You must be Betsy. I've got a little girl about your age. Her name is Courtney. She's been looking forward to playing with you."
"Allie, this is Dolly O'Sullivan," Rick said.
Dolly turned her bright smile on Allie, then hugged her. "Don't stand on the doorstep. I've been dying to meet the woman who managed to snatch Rick from the open market. I'm usually in the church nursery and don't always get to meet the visitors." She stood aside to allow them to enter.
A little girl with fiery red hair and big hazel eyes stood in the hallway. Her gaze went to Betsy, and she smiled. Betsy smiled back as Rick set her on the floor.
"Say hello, Courtney," Dolly said.
"Hi," Courtney said. "I made a fort in my room.You want to see it?"
Betsy nodded, and Courtney took her hand. The two girls went down the hall. Allie stared after them. Betsy hadn't had a friend her own age to play with in ages. Could that make a difference?
She realized with a start that Dolly had been speaking to her. "I'm sorry?"
"I wondered if you'd like some coffee or tea?"
"Tea would be great."
"Iced or hot?"
"Iced today. Can I help you fix it?"
"No, no, come on into the living room." Dolly led the way to a large living room with overstuffed furniture.
Watercolors decorated the walls, and baskets of flowers were on every table, along with small wooden handcrafts. Some held eucalyptus, and the entrancing scent filled the room. The tables were all distressed wood, washed in white. A very country-looking place, warm and inviting.
Allie sank onto a sofa that threatened to swallow her. "This is lovely. I love the pictures."
"She painted them," a man said, stepping into the room through a swinging door that had small handprints painted on the white surface. "She's always dabbling in something" He beamed proudly at his wife, then approached Allie with his hand out. "Hello, Allie. It's good to see you again.
Allie shook his hand. "You did a good job with the mare. I think she's going to make it." The guy exuded confidence. With his help, maybe their marriage would make it too. "And I enjoyed the message last week."
"Thanks. It's good to have you in church." He shook Rick's hand and slapped him on the shoulder. "Cowboy, how could you get married behind my back? You surprised me, bucko." He settled into a recliner. "We can talk in here as easy as my office. It's probably more comfortable."
Rick's bulk sank onto the sofa beside Allie, and the depression rolled her toward him. He put his arm around her shoulders. The warmth of his body soaked into her like sunshine. It felt good to be cared for. She could get used to it.
Grady folded his arms. "We've got a lot to discuss. You two are basically strangers, isn't that right?"
Allic nodded, though Rick felt anything but a stranger now. His presence had quickly grown to be a comfort and a thrill at the same time.
"There are all sorts of potential landmines ahead," Grady said. "You need to work out how you'll handle things like conflicts over money, childrearing, housekeeping, even watching TV." He grinned and nodded at Rick. "In case you haven't realized it yet, Cowboy here is a sports nut. He'd watch any sport on TV until he turned into a turnip."
"I've noticed," she said.
Rick grinned. "Hey, she's got her quirks too. I just have to figure out what they are."
"I've got a form for you to fill out. We'll start with that. I want you to list your likes and dislikes, your pet peeves, your faults. There are also some questions for you to answer about how you were raised. We'll identify the trouble spots and talk them out over the next few weeks."
Allic thought she might actually enjoy it until she saw Rick exchange a long look with Grady. She knew so little about her new husband, but it looked like there might be something in his past he didn't want her to know. If it had to do with the scars on his back, she felt only sympathy.
IT WAS ALL GOING TO COME OUT. RICK KNEW RE DIDN'T RAVE A SNOWball's chance of keeping it from her. And even if he could, he knew he shouldn't if he wanted the marriage to work. Still, anticipating having to tell her, he wanted to stop at the Long Branch and get a tall cold one.
Some days he got tired of fighting the desire to drink. He could give in, let the liquor numb the pain and guilt that gnawed at him every day of his life. God had forgiven him, but he couldn't forgive himself, and the whiskey helped him forget it.
He shoved the thoughts away, refusing to entertain them. Staying sober meant keeping his thoughts positive.
Allie didn't have much to say as they started for home. He pointed the truck to the hills between town and the ranch. The truck felt a little sluggish, and he made a mental note to give it a tune-up. It was overdue.
Spring this year had been lush so far. Cactus and wildflowers bloomed along the roadside as far as he could see. The tension eased from his shoulders. He took his right hand off the wheel and stretched it across the seat, his arm brushing the top of Betsy's head, letting his fingers tangle in Allie's hair.
She turned and smiled at him. Then it happened.
The truck lurched to the right, and he saw the front right wheel go rolling off into the ditch. The screech of metal on pavement nearly deafened him. The vehicle careened toward the embankment, and as he fought the wheel, jamming on the brakes to no avail, he heard Allie scream.
The truck tilted to the right, and he prayed that it wouldn't roll. Allie's door would be crushed in. The wheel bucked and jerked in his hands like a wild bull. The scenery rushed past, but he managed to keep the truck on the road as he sent a shout up to God for help.
Dead Gulch Curve was just up ahead. The road tilted to the right, and the vehicle with it. Rick wrenched the truck to the left, then saw an SUV coming toward him in the opposite lane. He veered back to the right, and the vehicle roared toward the ditch.
A large boulder jutted out from the rock face into the drop-off. He wasn't going to be able to miss it.
"Hang on!"With his foot buried in the brake pedal, he aimed for a glancing blow. From the corner of his eye, he saw sparks fly up from the right front end.
The truck slammed into the boulder in what seemed like slow motion. Allie flung out her arm to protect Betsy, and Rick's right arm did the same. Their hands locked across the little girl as the cab crumpled like a candy wrapper and folded in accordion style.
The three of them rocked forward, and he heard Allie's head strike the glass, a sickening sound that made him tighten his fingers on hers.
The silence after the wild ride was eerie. The only sound was the engine ticking as it cooled. Then the horn began to blare in a nightmarish, never-ending alarm.
"Allie?You okay?" Rick's gaze touched Betsy, who was sobbing and touching her mother's arm, trying to shake her. His attention moved on to his wife. His gut clenched when he saw the bright splash of blood on the window, and the way it had shattered to a star.
Her eyes were closed, and blood ran down her face from a cut on her forehead. "Allie?" He reached over Betsy and touched her face. Her eyes still didn't open.
Digging out his cell phone, he dialed 9-1-1, but even as he reported the accident, he knew he'd have to help her now. It would take an ambulance forever to get here.
The SUV in the opposite lane had stopped as well, and a man leaped out and jogged over to Rick's truck. "You okay?"
"My wife is hurt," Rick said through his shattered window. He was trying not to panic and wasn't doing a very good job of it.
"I'm a physician's assistant. Let me take a look at her." The man went around to the other side of the truck and tugged on the door. "It's stuck. I'll have to come in from your side." The man moved back to Rick's door and opened it with Rick's help.
Rick unfastened Betsy's seat belt and pulled her out with him. The other driver crawled inside the truck, and Rick began to pray.
19
EYERY BONE ACHED LIKE SHE'D BEEN THROWN FROM A B
UCKING BRONCO. Allie tried to open her eyes, but they felt glued shut. Her face felt swollen. Had she fallen from a horse?
She tried to move and groaned when the pain intensified. Even the softness of the sheets scraped her wounded face.
"Lie still," Rick's voice spoke in her ear. His hand smoothed her hair.
"Wha-what happened?" She managed to get her eyes open.
"We had an accident."
Her memory flooded back. The wheel coming off, the crash. "Betsy!" She tried to rise up.
"She's fine." His hands pressed her back against the pillow.
She squinted through slitted eyes. The sunlight filtered through blinds in an unfamiliar room. "Where am I?"
"The hospital in Alpine. You've got a concussion."
She managed to focus on Rick's face. Drawn and wearing a worried frown, he sat in a chair pulled up to the side of her bed. "Where's Betsy?"
"Grady and Dolly took her. I told them to be careful to watch her," he said when she frowned.
"I need to get out of here. She needs me." Panic raced across her face again. "Jon's parents. Where are they?"
"I don't know. They probably went to the house for dinner, but we never made it home."
"Make sure Grady knows not to let them have Betsy." She struggled against his hands again. "I've got to get out of here."
"The doctors haven't released you yet," he said.
"I don't care. I want to go home." Strange that she thought of the ranch as home already. She knew she couldn't resist the pressure of his hands. "Could I have some water?"
When he turned to get her water glass, she rose from the pillow and swung her feet to the side of the bed. Her head swam, but she began pulling the needles out of her arms. The blackness receded, and the nausea began to subside. Her head still ached, but it wasn't enough to stop her from getting to her daughter.
"Stop! What are you doing?" Rick sprang toward her, spilling the water in the cup onto her lap.
With all the needles out, she stood, though shaky. "I'm going home. Where are my clothes?" Blood trickled down her arm from the holes left by the IVs.
"Mrs. Bailey, what are you doing?"A nurse's rubber soles squeaked on the floor as she rushed into the room. She grabbed at Allie's arm.
Allie shook her off, practically falling into Rick. She looked up at him, letting him see all her hope and desperation. "I can't stay here. Betsy needs me."
"She's fine, Allie." Rick took her by the shoulders. "I wouldn't let anything happen to her."
"You're here," she pointed out. "Two hours away from her." She pulled away from his grip and nearly fell. "Where are my clothes? I'm checking myself out."
The nurse bit her lip and glanced at Rick. "We don't have the right to keep her," she said, her tone apologetic. "You'll have to sign a paper stating you are leaving against the advice of your doctor," she told Allie. She dug white tape out of the pocket on her smock. "Let me stop the bleeding."
Allie held out her arm. "Hurry, please. My clothes?"
The nurse put a cotton ball and tape over her wrist and pressed it down. "They were cut off you. I'm afraid there's not much left of them." She went to the small closet and drew out a plastic bag full of material. She unzipped it and pulled out the remains of Allie's denim skirt and blouse. "They're not wearable."
"I can't go home naked." For such a small problem, it felt overwhelming, and Allie wanted to sit on the edge of the bed and burst into tears. She gritted her teeth and forced back her emotion.
"I can give you another gown to put on backward," the nurse said. "Just a minute." She disappeared through the door.
"Have a little trust," Rick said. "Grady and Dolly will take care of Betsy."
"She's going to be beside herself, Rick. I'm sure she saw the ambulance cart me off all bloody and unconscious."
"I called and had Grady put her on the phone. I told her you were going to be okay."
"That's not the same as seeing me. I'm fine, it's just a concussion." In truth, her head was hurting more and more, and she felt dizzy and disoriented. But she'd be all right when she got home in her own bed.
"Here, you can talk to her." He pulled out his phone and punched in the number. "Grady? Put Bets on again." He waited a moment, then passed the phone over to her.
"Betsy? It's Mommy. I just wanted you to know I'm okay. I'm coming to get you, okay?" She could hear breathing on the other end and the sound of a sob. "Mommy's okay, sweetie. Don't you worry. You have fun with Courtney."
A moment later Grady came on the line. "She's smiling, Allie.You sure you're okay?"
"Just sore. We're coming after her now."
"You're sure the doctors say you can?"
"The doctors don't know everything. Listen, Grady, if Jon's parents try to take Betsy with them, don't let them have her."
"I won't. She's safe with us, Allie. Rest easy."
"Thanks." She closed the phone and handed it to Rick.
He slipped it into his pocket. "I wish you'd stay. She knows you're okay now."
"I'll be better in my own bed."
And when she held Betsy.
She gave him a curious stare. "How'd you get here with the truck disabled?"
"Charlie came and got me in your pickup. I dropped him at the ranch and came on here."
Allie winced at the thought of a ride back in the old rattletrap truck littered with grain and smelling of horse manure. "What happened? It's all a little fuzzy."
He narrowed his eyes, and his mouth took on a grim slant. "It's pretty strange. The lug nuts didn't break off, which is what I thought at first. But I took a look at the bolts, and they're perfectly fine. I couldn't find any of the lugs laying around in the ditch or the road either."
"A-are you saying someone took the lugs off?"
"I'm suspicious," he said. "That truck's only a year old. I rotated the tires a month ago. Everything was fine. The truck was parked in town for hours. I guess someone could have tampered with it."
All the blood rushed to her feet, and she swayed where she stood. Rick grabbed her arm. "I have to get to Betsy," she said. "She's in danger."
"Grady will take care of her." Though he protested, a worried frown formed between his eyes.
The nurse returned with another gown. "You're making a mistake," she said, holding it out for Allie to slip into.
By the time Allie signed the papers and Rick helped her to the truck, she was shaking with fatigue, and her head felt like it was as big as the boulder they'd hit. It was hard to think past the pain, and she had to keep swallowing down the bile that burned the back of her throat.
She could do this. Betsy had to be protected.
"You can put your head on my lap," Rick said, shooting her a concerned glance.
"Maybe I will." She put on the lap belt, then loosened it enough to crumple onto the seat, her head on the hard muscles of his leg. "Not exactly the softest pillow I've ever laid on," she said, turning her head and smiling up at him.
"Sorry." He drove with one hand on the wheel, and his right hand came down to settle on her shoulder as if to keep her safe.
Even Jon wasn't this protective. Allie had never felt so treasured and cared for. Why did he do it? He couldn't love her, not yet. She didn't quite get it, and though she wanted to ask, the words hid in the back of her throat.
He must have sensed her emotion, because he looked down with his eyebrows winging up. "Something wrong?"
"How can you act this way toward me?" She blurted the words out before she could lose her nerve.
"What way?"
"So sweet and loving. You don't love me." She watched his face to see if it would give away his emotions. Rick was so hard for her to read. She'd never met anyone like him.
He was silent for so long, she began to think he wasn't going to answer her. Warmth radiated down through his arm and fingers and transferred to her shoulder.
"I haven't had a lot of unconditional love in my life," he said. "Only from God. Grady said something from the p
ulpit once I've never forgotten. He said, `Love isn't an emotion, it's an action.' I figure if I act with love toward you, I might start feeling it.,,
Allie had never heard such a thing before. "Not an emotion? What did he mean?"
Rick shrugged. "You should have him tell you. He's better at explaining stuff like that. But I took it to mean that the giddy feelings can come and go. I think he called that infatuation. Real love means I go to work when I'd rather stay home in bed. Real love puts up with burned dinner and no clean underwear." He grinned when she grimaced. "He said love is an action verb. So I decided if we were going to stay married, I'd work out the love and wait for the giddy emotion."
He was basically saying she didn't give him the butterflies she felt even now flying around her insides, and she wasn't sure whether to be offended or to hug him. The thought of steadfast care and support felt like a safety net she'd never had. Her mother had always preferred Allie's sister, who was as good a barrel racer as she'd ever seen. Though she was loved, Allie always felt she came up lacking.
Rick didn't seem to be comparing her against anyone, and she'd been comparing him to Jon constantly. Jon was two years in his grave, and she was still alive. Could it be all right to accept what Rick offered? For the first time, she didn't shudder at the thought of letting down Jon's memory.
"So you're not attracted to me?" She couldn't help but remember the kiss they'd shared in the meadow, a kiss that nearly ignited a prairie fire.
"I didn't say that." His grin widened. "I'm a red-blooded male, you know. And you're a beautiful woman. But real love isn't about chemistry. Or at least not only about chemistry. If it were, when I've got a pot belly and you've got a turkey neck, we'll want to go look for someone younger. I want more than that from a marriage."
So did she.
And she was only beginning to realize how much.
RICK SAT IN THE OFFICE WITH HIS FEET ON THE DESK LATE INTO THE night. He hadn't wanted to tell Allie how worried he was about the accident two days ago. It was all he could handle to keep the Siderses from hauling off Betsy, and to get Allie to stay in bed. At least the pain meds had kept her worry at bay.