The Cowboy Next Door (9 page)

 

They were fifteen miles from Springfield. Jay turned the radio up a few notches and let the conversation go. Lacey was staring out the window. A quick glance and he could see her reflection in the glass, big dark eyes and a mouth that smiled often. But she wasn't smiling. She wasn't crying, either.

She reminded him of a song, a song about a young woman seeking love. And she found it at the cross. Lacey was that song.

“I guess I can't bail her out.” She spoke as they drove through the city.

“If you have the money. I don't know how much her bail will be.”

“Since she stole my savings, I guess she'll have to spend her time in jail.”

“It might do her some good.” He didn't want to be harsh. He also didn't want to see Lacey go through this exact same scenario again. And he thought she would if her sister was released.

“I know.” Still no tears. “But the baby. I really don't like to think about Rachel being taken from her mother.”

“It isn't always the worst thing for a kid.” He didn't know what else to say. They'd said pretty much everything on the drive to town. “Lacey, is being with Corry the best thing for Rachel?”

She didn't answer for a long time. Finally she shook her head, but she was still looking out the passenger-side window. “No, it isn't.”

He slowed and pulled into a parking lot. “We're here. You can probably see your sister for a few minutes. And then we'll see if we can't get you custody of Rachel.”

She turned away from the window, her brown eyes wide. Troubled. “Do you think they won't let me have her?”

“I think they will, but you know that isn't up to me.”

“I know.”

He parked and neither of them moved to get out. Lacey stared at the police station. Her eyes were a little misty but she didn't cry.

“Okay, let's go.” She got out of the truck and he followed.

“Before I picked you up I had one of our county social workers call the family services workers up here. I don't know if that will help, but we can hope.”

They walked side by side. Jay's shoulder brushed Lacey's and his fingers touched hers, for only a second. He wondered
about holding her hand, but didn't. She didn't need that from him. He didn't believe that she wanted it.

He pulled his hand back and pulled a pack of gum out of his pocket. “Would you like a piece?”

“Please.” She took it from him, unwrapping it as they walked. “I don't want to do this.”

“It won't be easy.”

“Thanks, that makes me feel better.”

“Anything to help.” He slid the gum back into his pocket. “She's going to try and make you feel guilty.”

“It wouldn't be the first time.”

“Remember, you haven't done anything wrong.”

“Maybe I did.” Her voice was soft.

Jay opened the door and she stepped in ahead of him. He took off his hat and breathed in cool air, a sharp contrast from the heat outside. “How did you do anything wrong?”

“I could have taken her with me when I left St. Louis. She might not be going through this.” She walked next to him again, her shoes a little squeaky on the tile floor and his boots clicking. “She was about sixteen when I left. She could have been saved.”

“You were just a kid.” He pointed down the hall. “What were you, about twenty-one or two when you moved to Gibson?”

“Twenty-two.”

“You can't keep looking back at all of the things you could have done differently.” He stopped at a window and smiled at the woman behind the glass. “We're here to see Corry Gould.”

“Oh, yes, just a minute please.” She slid the glass closed and talked on the phone. She opened it again and smiled. “Have a seat.”

Lacey crossed the room and stood, glancing out the window and not really seeing the view of the city. She sat down next to Jay. The plastic chairs placed them shoulder to shoulder. After a few minutes she got up and walked across the room to look at magazines hanging in a case on the wall.

The door opened. Lacey turned, meeting Jay's gaze first, and then her attention fell on the woman walking through the door. And Rachel.

Lacey choked a little, dropping a magazine back into the rack and hurrying to the woman that held her baby niece. Only a few days, but it had seemed like forever.

“She's a little bit sick.” The lady handed Rachel over. “I'm Gwenda Price.”

“Thank you, Ms. Price. Thank you so much.” Lacey lifted Rachel and held her against her shoulder, feeling the baby's warm, feverish skin. “Is she okay?”

“She probably needs to see a doctor. Her temp is a little high and she's stuffy.”

“Okay.” Lacey looked up, her gaze locking with Jay's, as it hit home. “I get to take her?”

“We need to fill out some paperwork, and we'll have one of the case workers in your area do a home study.”

“What about my sister?” Lacey shifted the baby, who slept through all of the movement.

“I can't answer that question.” Ms. Price smiled a little smile. “I'm just here to deliver the baby.”

Lacey turned to Jay. He had moved to the window and was speaking in quiet tones to the lady behind the glass. His words didn't carry. Lacey walked a little closer and he turned away from the window, shaking his head.

“Corry doesn't want to see you.” He slipped an arm around her waist and she didn't pull away. The comfort of his touch was unexpected. Her need for it, more unexpected. Rachel was cuddled close, smelling clean and powdery, and Jay was strong, his arms hard muscle and able to hold them both.

“What do I do?”

“I think you should concentrate on your niece.” He touched Rachel's cheek. “Take her home and do your best for her.
Give her a chance. Corry might come around, if she gets lonely enough.”

“I can't do this.” Lacey bit down on her lip, her eyes getting misty as she stared at the tiny little girl, now dependent on her for everything. Everything.

“You
can
do this.”

“I don't know.”

“You do and so do I.” Jay moved his arm from her waist and pulled back. He looked down at her, his brown eyes kind and gentle, encouraging her with a smile.

He touched Rachel's hand and little fingers wrapped tight around his thumb. He glanced back up at Lacey and something soft and compelling sparked between them. It had to be her imagination, because Jay was a Blackhorse, and she was the girl from St. Louis that had wandered into town one day.

Jay could hold her close and show compassion. That didn't make him a part of her life. It didn't even make him a friend.

“You can do this, Lacey.” He spoke softly.

“I can.” She kissed the pink and ivory cheek of her baby niece. “I can.”

“You'll have a lot of help. The entire town of Gibson will be behind you.”

“Yes, I know.”

“We'll need to spend a few minutes talking,” Ms. Price reminded, looking at her watch as she spoke. “If you'll come with me.”

“Oh, of course.” Lacey followed her into a small room, white walls with white tables and bright lights. She glanced back at the door closing behind her. Six, almost seven years in Gibson, and the memories returned full force.

If they'd meant for the room to put someone on the defensive, it worked.

Lacey sat down in the chair Ms. Price indicated, keeping the
baby close and praying they wouldn't look at her record and take the baby away. What would she do if she couldn't keep Rachel?

The windows were high on the wall. Ms. Price was between her and the door. Lacey inhaled the cold air of the room, the strong scent of the cleaners used to keep it so white.

“Relax, Lacey, we're not here about you, we're here about your niece. At the moment, you are the person most suited for guardianship.” Ms. Price looked over the papers in her folder, glasses perched on the end of her nose. She looked up, smiling. “We would much rather keep the child with a relative. It's easier on them if they're with someone like you, someone familiar, who can provide what they need.”

“I can provide. I'll do whatever I can for her.”

“Where do you work?”

Lacey gave all of her information. Job, address, income, and even that she was going to school to get her high school diploma. Ms. Price smiled again, her hands sparkling with too many rings and red-painted nails.

“Lacey, you're not on trial.” Ms. Price put the paperwork down. “But more than likely we'll have to move toward permanent guardianship if your sister is found guilty. That'll require a court hearing.”

“I don't mind.” Lacey's heart thumped against her ribs and her lungs felt tight in her chest. “Do I need a lawyer?”

“Not yet. But I would like to know who will be watching Rachel when you're at work.”

She hadn't thought that far ahead. “I'm not sure. I mean, I know that I can find someone.”

“Is there a day care in Gibson?”

“Yes, there is.”

Could she afford it? That was the other problem. All money she'd saved was now gone. She smiled, at Ms. Price, and then at her niece.

“It'll work out, Lacey. There are programs to help you with child care, even with formula and other things you might need. This doesn't have to be a huge burden.”

“Thank you. I just want her to have stability.”

“That's what we want for her as well. So, you take her home tonight and tomorrow we'll visit with your county workers.” Ms. Price stood up. “Do you have everything you need?”

Lacey held Rachel tight and thought of all the things she didn't have, all the things she needed. And she smiled because she had the most important thing. She had her niece.

“We're good.”

“I
don't know how I'll do this.” Lacey buckled the baby into the car seat in Jay's truck. He started the truck but didn't say anything. “How can I be the best person for her?”

“Lacey, I can't think of anyone better to take care of her.”

She nodded but couldn't look at him, because they both knew what a stretch those words of comfort were. She buckled herself into the passenger side of the truck.

“I need to get medicine for her. I don't know what to give her, though.”

“I'll call my dad.”

“Thank you.”

She touched her niece's tiny hand, warm from the fever. Jay spoke into his cell phone and then he was talking to his dad. She dug around in her purse for paper to write down instructions when he gave them to her.

“Thanks, Dad.”

He ended the call and she wondered what it was like, having people to rely on. She brushed aside the thought that could only bring her down. Besides, she had people. She had Bailey, Jolynn and other friends in Gibson that she counted on.

The one thing she didn't have was family that she counted on. No real blood ties that she could call on in an emergency. But Corry had Lacey, and so did Rachel. That was the change Lacey had made in her family. She'd given them someone to call.

She glanced sideways, catching the shadowed profile of the man sitting next to her. It was dark and streetlights glowed orange as they drove through Springfield. And he was the one who had been there for her. She hadn't even had to ask.

“Thank you.” She smiled when he glanced at her, his brows raised, a question in his eyes.

“What?”

“For taking me to Springfield. Thank you for this.”

“I didn't do anything.”

It was that easy for him to shrug off the fact that he'd done something good for her. “You don't get it, do you? I wouldn't have her if you hadn't stepped in. I'm sure they wouldn't have just handed her over to me, not without you backing me up.”

He was a Blackhorse. A name did count for something. Good character counted, too. A part of her remembered that she had walked away from her old life and that she'd made the best of her second chance.

Some people change.
She thought of the words of a song that sometimes made her cry, because she saw herself in the hollow lives of the people in the words, people at the end of their ropes, hopeless. And then full of hope, knowing that life could be better, they could change. It started on their knees, reaching up to God.

“Lacey, stop being so hard on yourself.”

“I guess maybe you're right.”

“Of course I'm right.” A quick glance in her direction and then his attention went back to the road. “Listen, I haven't walked the straight line my entire life. I know what it's like to live with regrets.”

“Really?”

“If you don't already know them, I'm not going to share my sad stories with you. I think life has too many good moments that we miss if we're constantly looking back, thinking about what went wrong.”

“So, I'm not the town optimist, you are?”

“If optimism is faith, then I'm pretty optimistic.” He pulled into a pharmacy. “If you give me that list, I'll go in and get what you need.”

“I can do it.”

He was already opening the door. “Let me. I'd rather you stay with the baby.”

She remembered that he didn't like to hold babies. He was afraid of them, of their size and his big hands and awkwardness with them. She gave him the list and watched as he walked across the lighted parking lot, long strides, confident.

Rachel cried, eyes blinking and glazed. Lacey spoke to her, stroking her cheek and leaning to kiss her brow. The baby quieted, but her breathing was raspy. Lacey knew how to feed a baby. She knew how to change one.

But a sick baby? This was new territory and her confidence felt like an empty place inside her.

 

Jay walked across the parking lot, the bottles of fever reducer in a bag with a few chocolate bars. Because he knew one thing about women; chocolate made everything better. He remembered back to chocolate peanut butter fudge made by his mother and Jamie.

He opened the door of the truck, still fighting to let go of memories, and handed the bag to Lacey. When she smiled, he knew he'd done the right thing. He couldn't take it back.

“How is she?” The baby was restless in the seat next to him. He glanced down, smiling at the little girl, at the pretty yellow dress the social worker had dressed her in.

“I'm not sure. I mean, it's probably just a virus, right?”

“I'm not the doctor in the family.” He sighed, because those words didn't comfort. “Dad said to take her home, keep her fever down and if you can't keep it down, she should go to the emergency room or urgent care.”

“Okay, that does help.” She chewed on her bottom lip and looked less than confident. “So, you didn't want to go into the family business?”

“Nope, the medical field wasn't the place for me. Linda is a nurse. Chad is in the navy because he wants to get his medical degree that way.”

“It wasn't the thing for you?” Lacey wasn't letting go, he knew she wouldn't. He smiled, because she was tenacious.

“No, it wasn't the thing for me.”

“What was the thing for you?”

“I have a counseling degree.” He shifted gears, deciding how far to let her into his life. Not far. He didn't want her taking up spaces that were comfortably empty. “I went to the police academy after I finished college.”

Her eyes widened a little. He caught the look before he turned his attention back to the road. “Surprised?”

“No, not really.”

The tires hummed on the pavement and the road that wound through the country was dark except for the white beams of his headlights and the occasional security light illuminating a farmhouse.

Lacey remained quiet in the seat next to him.

When he pulled up to her house, she didn't move. He turned the engine off and looked at her in the dim light of the truck. Her eyes were closed and her head leaned against the window.

“Lacey.”

She jumped a little, rubbed a hand across her eyes and turned
to look at him. She smiled a little, embarrassment flitting across her face. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to be sorry. You're probably going to need the sleep. What time do you go to work in the morning?”

She groaned and looked at the clock on the dash. “Too early. Six a.m.”

“You're going to be tired.”

“Yep. But the bigger problem is what will I do with the baby? It's a little late to call around and find a sitter.”

“I have to work tomorrow.” He didn't know what else to say. He couldn't watch a baby. He wouldn't know the first thing to do with Rachel.

Lacey's soft laughter answered him. She shook her head as she unhooked the infant seat from his truck. “Jay, don't worry, I won't dump the baby on you. I have a feeling that wouldn't be good for either of you. Since she's sick, I'll probably call Jolynn and take tomorrow off. She's probably still up watching TV.”

“A day off wouldn't hurt you.”

“No, probably not.” But he saw her look away, and he knew she was thinking of the money that Corry took. Money she would never get back.

“Let me help you get her inside.” He took the infant seat, snapping the handle up.

“You don't have to.”

“In a hurry to get rid of me?” He winked as he got out of the truck, and he knew that empty spaces were filling up with this woman, and a baby.

The two were pulling him in. Without meaning to, they were involving him in their lives. He tried to think back, to three years with Cindy and never feeling as if she was really a part of his life.

Because he hadn't really let himself be in hers. He'd kept the empty spaces empty, filled only with old memories that
were fading to glimpses of a smile, a soft touch, a scent that brought it all back.

“Jay, are you with me?” Lacey stood next to him, the diaper bag over her shoulder and the bag from the pharmacy in her hand.

“I am.” But he wasn't, not really. He smiled and she nodded, letting it go.

“I asked if you wanted a cup of coffee.” She swallowed and he wondered about the flicker of doubt, the shadows of what looked like fear in her eyes.

Lacey had empty spaces, too. He had thought of her as the person taking on the world, alone and strong. That was before he'd really known her, before he'd seen beneath the surface.

“I should go.” He waited for her to open the front door. She didn't respond.

She opened the door and walked through ahead of him, flipping on lights as she went. It was muggy because the air was turned down. She adjusted the setting on the AC unit and turned back around, her smile, her confidence in place.

He couldn't stay.

She was looking for someone to lean on, to be strong for her. That wasn't him. Not in this house. He'd gone as far as he could, done as much as his heart would allow for tonight.

He realized it was a step forward, in forgetting. A small step, but in his heart he knew that it mattered.

He put the baby down on the couch and Lacey unbuckled her, pulling her from the seat and holding her close. She had given her medicine in the truck. He watched as she kissed the child's cheek, closing her eyes as she held the baby against her.

“Has her fever gone down?”

Lacey nodded. “I think so.”

“If you need anything…”

Another Lacey smile, too bright and too confident. “We're fine. And, Jay, I really do appreciate what you did today.”

He nodded and walked to the door, Lacey with the baby behind him. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“You don't have to.”

“I know that.”

He was on the porch and she stood in the doorway, the soft glow of lamplight behind her. And he had a strange urge to lean and kiss her. He took a step back, said good-bye and walked away.

It was much easier that way. Easier to walk away than to get involved and then have someone leave.

 

Lacey woke as dawn broke across the eastern horizon. She had called Jolynn the previous night and gotten the day off. And more time if she needed it, Jolynn had said. Lacey appreciated it, but she couldn't take more time off. She had today to take care of details. First off, a sitter. And of course, the meeting with Family Services.

She wanted to go back to sleep and put it all off. Maybe another hour of sleep? The baby cried a little and that question was answered. Lacey sat up and looked in the bassinet. Rachel's eyes were open, but watery, and her cheeks were pink, too pink. Lacey touched the baby's face and then leaned to kiss her forehead, the way she'd watched Wilma do in the nursery at church.

“Sweetie, you're burning up.” She picked the baby up and walked into the kitchen, where she'd left the medicine.

The chocolate bars were on the counter. Her heart lifted a little, because the gesture had been kind and Jay didn't have to be kind to her. She felt a sharp jab to her conscience, because she had doubted his motives, wondering what he was after when he'd stepped in to help.

Because she had known too many people who only helped when they thought they'd get something in return. Those days were so far in her past, it hurt that the old insecurities sometimes sneaked back in.

She opened the medicine bottle and squeezed the rubber end of the dropper to get the right amount of medicine.

“Okay, Rachel, my dear, time for medicine and then we'll take your temperature.” She held the baby in the crook of her arm and squeezed the pink liquid into the tiny mouth.

Rachel fussed, but it was a weak attempt. No smile, no baby grin, no hand reaching for Lacey's hair. “Please God, don't let her be sick.”

Lacey lifted her niece and carried her to the living room. She set her down on the couch to take her temperature. And she was right, the fever was high. It hurt, the feeling that she couldn't do anything. She looked at her watch. She'd give the medicine thirty minutes to work.

It was a long thirty minutes. When Lacey took Rachel's temperature the second time, it was higher than the first.

“Baby, baby, what do we do now?” She looked at her watch again, and then picked her niece up. “A damp cloth. We'll try that.”

Lacey held a hand towel under lukewarm water and then wrung it out. She carried the baby back into the living room and wiped her bare back and belly. Rachel cried, weak and pitiful.

And then her body stiffened. Lacey froze as her little niece convulsed, her body jerking, her eyes rolling. “No. Rachel, no.”

She grabbed the phone and with fingers that shook, dialed 911. Rachel stopped convulsing. Lacey picked her up and held her close, crying silent tears and her heart aching. She couldn't do anything. She was powerless.