A Damaged Trust (21 page)

“Emma!” Janet said warningly.

“It’s all right.” Gabe smiled. “You’ll just have to take my word for it, Emma. And take my word for this, madam.” He flicked Emma’s cheek carelessly. “The tree came off the worse of the pair!”

She said archly, “And I wouldn’t expect anything different from you, my man!” Jack, taciturn as always, leaned back in his chair and tried not to laugh.

“Mom,” Carried recalled Janet back to her original question, “How’s Dad feeling?”

She smiled a little worriedly. “He’s feeling rather poorly, dear. I’m going to try to persuade him to go and see the doctor in the morning, but you know your father. He’ll put up quite a fight!”

“Is there anything I can do?” Carrie asked quietly.

“Oh, no, honey. He’s in bed now. We’ll just have to see what we can do with his obstinacy in the morning.”

“In the meantime,” Gabe cut in, “I suggest bed for a very tired little girl.” Blue eyes looked indignantly into dark ones.

“No—I want to stay up and talk,” she said stubbornly, and he laughed.

“Then you’ll have to talk with your family, because I’m headed for bed myself,” he told her. “I’ll call you in the morning, Carrie. We’ll talk then.”

In the end she did go to bed, because everyone else was going too, and she was very tired after all.

“Wake up, Carrie! Come on, honey, wake up, please! It’s Dad—he’s sick!” Ralf’s voice finally began to penetrate through the deep hazy fog that wrapped around Carrie’s mind. She struggled to sit up as some of the more important words began to sink into her consciousness.

“Ralf,” she mumbled, pushing back her tousled hair. Then, more sharply, “What is it? What’s wrong with Dad?”

Her brother sat on the edge of her bed, clad only in a pair of faded jeans, and his hair still rumpled as if he had just awakened. The sky outside of her window was still dark. Her eyes shot from the black rectangle framed by curtains to her alarm clock by the bed. It said three-thirty.

Ralf was watching her worriedly, taking in the dark bruise on her cheekbone, but refraining from commenting on that or the dark circles under her eyes. “He’s on his way to the hospital,” he said carefully, dropping his eyes to his clenched hands. “Mom went in the ambulance with him—I didn’t wake you earlier because Mom wouldn’t let me. She said there was time enough to let you know in the morning.” There was a lost quality in Ralf’s voice, making him very suddenly the younger of the two, and Carrie put her arms around him as his voice broke. “They think he’s had a heart attack, Carrie. Oh God, what if he dies?”

The dark morning breeze wafted in through the open window and stirred the two on the bed, teasing their hair gently. Neither noticed. “Where’s Steven?” Carrie asked suddenly. She leaned away from Ralf as she spoke, watching his face.

“Downstairs, in the kitchen with Emma.” Ralf looked back at her, his brow creased. “Carrie, you don’t seem—”

“Surprised?” she interrupted gently, and laughed a short, mirthless chuckle. “I’m not. You poor, sweet boy, you never guessed, did you? Dad’s been unwell almost since the moment I arrived. I asked him several times to see a doctor, but he wouldn’t budge from his own stubborn stance. Don’t worry, Ralf,” she said with a briskness that had him amazed, and with far more assurance than she felt. “This isn’t going to be anything more than a very well-timed scare for Dad, and a good message to slow down now that he’s older. Now, you go on downstairs and get a cup of coffee ready for me, and I’ll be there in a minute!—and Ralf?” This was as he went to the door. He looked back enquiringly. “Thanks for waking me.” He nodded unsmilingly and was gone.

Carrie dressed swiftly in jeans and a plain top, and took the time to quickly pin up her hair in a knot to keep it neat. Taking only enough time to dust some face powder over her bruised cheek, she headed for the kitchen, taking the stairs two at a time. Going into the kitchen, she was unsurprised see Emma sitting at the table, staring into a coffee cup, along with Jack and her brothers. There was a mug full of steaming coffee beside an empty chair, and she sat down and sipped at it appreciatively, thanking Ralf.

She took a minute to survey the group and to make sure that her assessment of the situation was correct. To a man, they all had a peculiar lost air about them, and an attitude of inertia. It was not surprising. The whole Metcalfe ranch revolved around Cliff, and now with the possibility of his death, they were all feeling a shock that she knew would reverberate throughout the whole establishment. Here, in the very core of the activity, with all the key people—outside of her parents—present, she saw just how deeply each one depended, on one man. The hurt went much deeper than any physical impairment that Cliff might suffer. It was time someone put a stop to helpless anxiety.

“Why don’t you all go to bed?” Carrie suggested briskly. Four pairs of eyes turned to look at her incredulously, as if each one doubted the evidence of his own ears.

“What did you say?” Steven expostulated. Ralf started to argue, and Jack began to splutter. But it was Emma who ended up with the floor.

“You’ve gone absolutely crazy, miss, if you think anyone of us could even
think
of sleeping at a time like this!” She glared at Carrie as she snapped. “Why, that’s the very reason we woke you up, ’cause we didn’t think you should sleep through the night without knowin’! It ain’t dec—”

“You aren’t doing anybody any good,” Carrie interrupted her. There was silence. “You aren’t doing even yourself any good! Look at all of you! Do you think Dad would be happy to see you all vegetating over a perpetual cup of coffee? Do you know what he’d say?” She leaned back in her chair, the note of authority surprising herself as much as it did the others.

“Why, he’d say there are fences to mend, Steven! And there are chores to do, Jack! And a house to keep clean, and hungry men to feed, Emma! What about you, Ralf? Shouldn’t you think about the horses? For God’s sake, don’t just sit! Keep active and be useful, if you can’t sleep, because Mom and Dad are going to need all of us, and our strength, and our working hands more now than ever before! And it would help,” her voice softened, “if you had something in your hands to keep you busy. I love Dad just as much as any of you, but he’s just a man, with a great many weaknesses. He’s not the ranch—although he’s a good, part of it—you’re the ranch, every one of you. And if you stop, then what’s going to happen to the thing Dad loves most in the world?”

There was still silence, while everyone stared at Carrie, who had to swallow the lump that rose in her throat and blink rapidly to keep tears from falling onto her cheeks. She buried her head in her cup, warming her hand on its sides and trying to read something in its murky depths. Someone stirred and stood.

“Seems like a good chance to catch up on all those chores I’ve been puttin’ off,” Jack said gruffly, rubbing his eyes in a furtive gesture. “I’ll—be off, then. Someone call me if you hear anything.” He passed Carrie and hesitated for a moment. She tilted her head to look back at him and was profoundly surprised when he awkwardly kissed her on the cheek. He looked as if he’d like to say something more, but shook his head and went quickly out.

Emma bustled to life. “I think,” she put in hastily, “I’ll give all of the bedrooms a good turn out!” And she too hustled out of the kitchen after patting Carrie on the shoulder.

The breath of active life that she had managed to instill in everyone was like a new hope, and it was reflected in everyone’s eyes. Ralf and Steven spoke quietly together about what needed attending to first that day. She sat back and finished her coffee as she listened, and then poured herself another one. It was going to be a long time, she guessed, before she would get any sleep.

“—But what are you going to do, Carrie?” Steven’s voice penetrated her thoughts. “Are you going to keep busy like the rest of us?”

She smiled a crooked smile. “I’m going to do the worst thing I can possibly think of,” she said ruefully, “and yet be where I’m probably needed the most right now. I’m going to go to the hospital, keep Mom company, and wait.”

The long, grey hours passed very slowly for the mother and daughter waiting in the small white room. Carrie kept a constant watch over Janet, listening to her rambling talks about Cliff, getting her coffee when she wanted it, and sometimes simply holding her hand when the words seemed to dry up and silence fell over both of them.

Carrie had never realised before how desolate the dark hours were before the dawn. The time trickled by so very quietly; it was as if the stillness of death was upon them. Sometimes, when she was left alone while Janet went to check for news of Cliff, Carrie fancied she heard quiet footsteps echo through the halls, and yet when she would turn her head to look down the wide corridor, the expanse would be empty. She knew that she was imagining it from sheer tiredness.

She also knew that, of all the Metcalfes, she was able to handle the crisis the best. Her world had been so very different since she had left home.

She had realised greater horizons and had built a life of her own, apart from her family. She loved every one of them deeply, but she had, after all, another life to live. Everyone at the Metcalfe ranch lived a very dependent life. It was now, when the family faced their first real crisis, that Carrie, the one who had always seemed so fragile and vulnerable, was the real core of strength.

The hours melted into late morning, before they received any real news of Cliff’s condition. Gabe had showed up around nine o’clock, and had proved to be a tower of strength and reliance. He had sat with Janet while Carrie went to the hospital cafeteria for breakfast, and when she had returned, he was the one to persuade her mother to make a brief trip home for a shower and a change of clothes.

Janet had accepted his offer to drive her home, and before they had left, Gabe bent down to whisper in Carrie’s ear, “If you’d called me, I would have come.”

She had stared into his eyes and seen, behind a look of hurt, a steady glow she had seen before. “I know,” she whispered back. And it was true; she had known, somewhere deep down, all along. “But I knew I’d need you more when I was beat. Everybody has been leaning on me through the night. Now I need to lean on you.” Her voice had broken as she told him of her deep emotional need, and as she confessed that even her resources of strength were running dry.

Gabe had touched her once, on the cheek, with a very gentle hand. “We’ll be back soon. I promise.” And then they had left.

The short time that Carrie had been by herself was the hardest. There had been no one else to be strong for, and it was then that she had faced her own deep fears. She had never felt so alone in her life.

But Gabe and Janet had been back very soon, and Carrie never told anyone how hard the wait had been by herself, dreading the possibility of the doctor’s slow, reluctant walk down that silent corridor to impart news to a grieving family. She thanked God that she didn’t have to go through that experience as she saw the two returning.

Janet looked better. She had needed a break away from the helpless waiting. Now it was Carrie who felt the need for strength, and when Gabe sat down beside her, she turned to his bulky solid chest and buried her head there with a sigh. Strong arms had instantly enfolded her, a light touch was briefly in her hair as he kissed her head, and she could close her eyes in peace. She fell asleep there.

“…and you can see him for a little while, Mrs. Metcalfe, but please don’t tire him. He’s still very weak,” a stern voice flowed over Carrie’s head. She jerked up, narrowly missing Gabe’s chin.

As Janet hurried down the corridor, behind the doctor, with tears of joy in her eyes, Carrie turned anxiously to Gabe. “What’s happened? Is he dying?” There was a wealth of anguish in her tone. They hadn’t even wakened her.

“No—now hush, sweetheart. Your father is going to live,” Gabe murmured, pulling her back into his arms. She went to him like melted wax. “He had a bad night, but he’s going to pull through now. It was a very nasty attack.”

A long shudder that passed through Carrie’s body like wildfire was the only reaction she showed, and his arms tightened until she thought her ribs would break. When she could lift her head, she smiled into his eyes mistily. An answering smile lay deep in his dark eyes, just for her. He kissed her nose. “You’re a very strong lady.”

“And you are a very strong man,” she whispered, kissing him back. “Mmmm—I could get to like this!”

“Oh? We’ll have to practice some time, real soon.” He helped her to her feet. “Do you want to go see how your father’s doing?”

Later, Gabe and Carrie had travelled home to tell everyone the good news. Steven and Ralf decided to go to the hospital to be with Janet, and Jack had gruffly stomped out of the house, with tears in his eyes, to tell the ranch hands. Emma sniffed happily for a few minutes and declared she would take a nap. Soon Carrie and Gabe were alone in the large kitchen where they demolished huge sandwiches for lunch, washed down with lemonade.

“Those were the best sandwiches I’ve ever eaten,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair and feeling suddenly very tired indeed.

Gabe smiled a little at that, his eyes moving over her exhausted features like a caress. “I love you, Carrie.”

She closed her eyes. The pleasure of those three words was near to pain, the feeling was so intense. “I love you, Gabe,” she whispered. Then she looked at him anxiously. “Do you understand why I didn’t call you at three-thirty in the morning? It wasn’t because I didn’t want you there—I wanted you very much. It was just…”

“—That you knew you’d be needing me later on even more,” he finished for her gently. “I do understand, Carrie. Your whole family had been up all night, and everyone was exhausted.” He slid his chair over to hers and put his arm around her tenderly.

“You were my reservoir of strength,” she told him with a shaking voice. A sneaky tear slid down her cheek before she could catch it, and she scrubbed at her face with one trembling hand. “Funny,” she laughed unsteadily, “it’s after the suspense is over when I finally go to pieces.”