A Cowboy's Heart (14 page)

She shot a look in the direction of the barn and Clint saying goodbye to James McKinney. Ignoring him was the only way for her to take back her space. She'd lived through this before, with her parents, and with other men.

She had wanted Clint to be different. She had wanted him to not be her dad, with a protective streak and that need to make decisions for her, as if she couldn't. She had hoped he wouldn't be the man that couldn't handle her deafness.

Her heart leaped to his defense. He had signed for her, allowing her to be included in the conversation with James.

She pulled back on the ropes of the swing and gave the boys a little push. They looked back, smiling, but not laughing.

Each week that passed, missing their mother got harder, not easier for them. With her trip to Austin canceled—thanks to her accident—they wouldn't have to travel for a few weeks. They could all use a break and a little stability.

She pushed the boys a little harder, a little higher. They were still quiet, still not themselves. She brought them back to earth, holding tight to the ropes until the swing came to a halt.

“Do you guys want ice cream?” She moved to the front of the swing and squatted in front of them.

They nodded, their little faces dirty and their hair sticking out in all directions. They needed a bath. Men didn't notice those things.

“Hey, I have an idea. Why don't the two of you put on swim trunks, and we'll turn on the hose. You can play in the water, cool off, and I'll even get some soap for you to bubble up with.”

They looked on board with her plan until she mentioned soap. But they needed it. She knew they'd been playing in the driveway, making miniature roads through the dirt and gravel for their toy cars.

“Come on, ice cream and a shower in the garden hose.” She smiled, making it sound like a great idea.

Timmy finally nodded and slid off the swing, a hand on David's arm pulling the smaller twin along with him. “Come on, David, you're starting to stink.”

Willow smiled, because she knew Timmy had heard that from someone. Probably from Clint. The boys ran ahead of her, in a hurry for the ice cream, not the baths.

“You boys need to find swim trunks for the hose.”

They were running away from her, and if they answered, she didn't hear them. But they would know where to find what they needed. While they got ready and picked ice cream, she'd drag out the hose.

A shadow near the barn. Clint. He waved and walked back into the shadows. She saw him tug out his cell phone, and then a dark
sedan pulled down the drive. Willow stopped to watch, her heart hurting as the men stepped out of the car and walked up to Clint.

The boys were running into the garage where the extra freezer held the boxes of ice cream bars. She followed along at a slower pace. She laughed as she walked into the dark room, but she didn't feel like laughing. The boys were stripping, and under their clothes they had on swim trunks.

“You guys are ready to go?”

“We wanted to go to the creek today,” Timmy explained. “Uncle Clint said he'd take us later.”

“Okay, grab a fudge bar or ice cream sandwich. Oh, and there are orange Push-Ups.”

The two of them were rummaging, looking for their favorites. Willow smiled as she walked out the back door. The hose was on a caddy. She pulled it loose and hooked it to the sprinkler. When the boys walked out, ice cream dripping down their chins, she was ready for them. She turned on the water and pointed.

“There you go. Finish your ice cream and then jump in. I'll get towels and soap.”

“No soap!” David looked at her and said the words with a disgusted face that left no room for doubt.

“Sweetie, you have to get clean.”

“'Cause you stink.” Timmy was nodding, like he was the expert on stinking. “You smell worse than my dirty socks.”

Pleasant. Willow wrinkled her nose at them. “Dirty socks is a bad smell, David. I'll be right back.”

She glanced at the barn as she walked through the garage. Clint was standing near the barn door, his hat in his hands and his face pointed away from her. The car was gone. The boys were laughing and jumping through the sprinkler. She wanted them to stay young and innocent. She didn't want their hearts to be broken.

C
lint watched the car drive away and then he looked across the drive to see Willow with the boys. He couldn't go over there, not yet. The boys disappeared around the side of the house, carrying ice cream. Clint smiled at that, at the sight of them being little boys, and Willow being herself with them. He could hear the boys shouting something about cold and then squeals combined with laughter. Willow's laughter melted with theirs.

He wanted to laugh with them, to tell them everything would be okay. But he couldn't. He headed their way. At the corner of the house he stopped and watched. They were running under the cold spray of the sprinkler. They had soap, and they would step out of the water, scrub and run back under the water. A creative way to get them clean. He wanted to smile, and he wanted to cry.

Willow turned, smiling when she saw him. She was sitting in a lawn chair, blond and perfect, jean shorts and a T-shirt, her hair pulled back. He must have revealed something because her smile dissolved and she stood up. As she crossed the yard, slipping past the boys and the spray from the hose, he prayed for strength.

He prayed that God would do something huge. He prayed his sister would come back home alive.

That she would come back.

His eyes burned and his chest felt tight.

It all looked so normal. It looked like any other day. The boys were playing, splashing on a summer afternoon, with the blue Oklahoma sky a backdrop for their fun, and bees buzzing over the flowers on a nearby bush.

How could it look like everything was okay, when it was anything but?

“Clint?”

He looked up. Willow stood in front of him, nearly as tall as he was. Her blue eyes met his and held his gaze, looking deep, like she could see into his heart. He hoped she couldn't, because the thoughts in there were pretty scrambled right about then.

“I can't talk about it.” He touched her shoulder as he passed. He couldn't talk yet. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't get the words past the tight lump in his throat.

“Aunt Janie?” Willow rushed past him, opening the screen door on the back of the house. “Could you come out here and watch the boys?”

Janie walked out, smiling, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. She glanced from him to Willow and then to the boys. Her eyes narrowed, and he looked away, not able to tell her, not yet. He needed a few minutes to get it together, for everyone's sake. For the boys' sake.

“Clint?”

He shook his head and walked past her, into the air-conditioned dining room of her house. Willow followed him inside, her hand rested on his shoulder while he gathered his thoughts and fought back the wave of fear that got tangled with faith, as he tried to tell himself God could take care of Jenna.

“She's missing.” He whispered the words and then turned and said them again. “Jenna is missing.”

“Oh, Clint.” Her only words as she stepped close and her arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tight.

One harsh sob escaped the lump in his throat and Willow's tears were hot on his neck. He had to hang on, to be strong. If he looked outside he would see the boys, playing in the mist of the sprinkler. A summer day, blue skies, and people relying on him. For just a few minutes he wanted to not be that person.

“What happened?” Willow whispered against his neck.

He moved back a step and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. Willow's hand remained on his arm. When he opened his eyes she moved her hand to his cheek and a soft, tremulous smile curved her lips.

“Her unit was moving and it was attacked. They can't find her anywhere.”

“They'll find her.”

“What if…”

“We're not going to give up, Clint. We're going to keep praying and keep having faith.”

“I know. I know.” But his heart ached and faith was in short supply at the moment.

“I'm going to pray, Clint. I'm going to have enough faith for both of us right now.”

He closed his eyes and breathed in, nodding his agreement. Right now that's what he needed.

He glanced out the window and saw Janie with his nephews. The boys needed him. As much as he wanted to stay in Willow's arms, he knew that his priority was outside, with two little boys who were about to learn that their mother was missing.

“Don't tell them.” Willow grabbed his arm. “Not yet, Clint. Give the military time to find her. Give the boys this day to play.”

Before he took away their sunshine.

How would they recover from this? Would they? He brushed a hand through his hair and watched as the boys played, splash
ing fine mists of water at Janie. She raised the towel and laughed. But he could see that her laughter was strained, because she knew.

As he watched, Janie looked his way, her smile fading. Willow's hand still held his arm, like she thought her hold on him would keep the inevitable from happening.

“I have to tell them. I can't keep this from them.”

“They're babies.”

He sighed, wishing the huge breath he took would relieve the tightness in his chest. It didn't. The truth was still there, heavy on his heart. He smiled down at Willow. Her gaze had left his face, and she was looking out the window, at his nephews. He lifted the hand she'd placed on his arm and kissed her palm.

Her gaze shifted back to his face. “Don't tell them, Clint. Don't make them carry this weight. We can carry it for them until we know something definite.”

Definite.
The word hit like an arrow. Until he knew for sure if his sister was coming back to them. He held on to Willow's hand, knowing she would let go of her anger with him for this time, while he needed her.

And he did need her.

He'd never needed anyone before, not the way he needed her. All of his life he'd taken care of things, of people, and he'd been just fine with that.

He couldn't even think about when it had started, this needing her. And now more than ever, the boys needed him. They needed him strong.

“You're right. We won't tell them. Not yet.”

She nodded and walked out the door ahead of him, already wearing a smile for the boys to see. But he had seen the look in her eyes before she turned away. Her eyes reflected her sorrow, for him, for the boys and for Jenna.

He pasted on a smile of his own as he walked out to join the boys under the sprinkler, not caring that his clothes got soaked.

Life had just taken a sudden turn, and now, everything was about Timmy and David and getting through the days and weeks to come. His gaze connected with Willow's. She stood just at the edge of the spray of water, letting it hit her arms and face. He could see the tears still trickling out of her eyes as she watched the boys play.

The boys wouldn't let him remain in his stupor. Timmy splashed him, and when Clint smiled, the child stood for a moment studying him. Like he knew something was wrong. Clint forced a bigger smile and splashed back.

“Why don't you guys finish up and we'll go back to our house for a little while. You can put on dry clothes, and then we'll cook hot dogs.”

“Could we make a fire?” David edged out of the water and his thumb went to his mouth.

“We can build a fire, yes.”

“Do you have marshmallows?” Timmy stood under the spray of water, and he still didn't look convinced that everything was okay.

“I don't have marshmallows.”

“We have some,” Janie offered.

Clint backed out of the water, still unable to really make eye contact with Janie or Willow. “Thanks. The two of you can join us.”

“I can't tonight, Clint.” Janie pushed herself out of the lawn chair she'd been sitting in. “Willow can come down. We have all of the fixings for s'mores.”

Timmy grabbed Willow's hand. She looked at Clint, and he knew she'd lost part of the conversation. He signed the plan for her. She smiled down at Timmy and nodded. “I'll be down, sweetie. We can sing and make s'mores. It'll be fun.”

Timmy and David, soaked and shivering from the cold well water, grabbed his hands.

“Let's go.” Timmy pulled on him, and Clint smiled goodbye to Willow and Janie.

 

At six-thirty Willow walked down the drive to the foreman's house. Clint was at the edge of the drive, making a circle with rocks for the fire. The garden hose was out, because the grass was dry for so early in the summer. Willow smiled because the boys were dragging huge limbs they'd found at the edge of the yard to the fire pit.

Timmy walked backwards, pulling on a limb that had to be ten feet long. David dropped his and brushed his hands off on his denim shorts. He picked it up again and heaved to set it in motion. An offer to help would have crushed him, so she watched, praying he wouldn't get hurt.

“They're having fun.” Clint spoke when she was close. He placed the last rock and sat back on his heels.

“They're definitely having fun.” She pulled up one of the lawn chairs he had set out and lowered herself, still aching from the run-in with the bull.

“You okay?” Clint stood, dusting his hands off on his jeans and then pulling up a chair for himself.

“I'm good. It's you I'm worried about. And the boys.”

W
E'LL GET THROUGH THIS
, he signed,
AND
J
ENNA WILL COME HOME
.

S
HE WILL
, C
LINT
. I
KNOW SHE WILL
, she signed back, rather than speaking. This protected the boys from overhearing. She didn't want them to hear this conversation.

He nodded and glanced in the direction of the boys. They were still dragging too-large limbs, huffing and puffing as they made their way across the yard. “I should help them.”

“They're fine. But we should probably find some smaller pieces of wood.”

He grinned at that. “You're a campfire girl?”

“I happen to know a few things about camping.” She stood up and reached for his hand. “Come on, let's help the boys.”

Y
OU'RE HELPING ME
, W
ILLOW
. He spoke the words with his hands, and she silently thanked God for good friends. “Thank you for coming down here tonight.”

“I wouldn't have left you on your own.”

“Yes, you would have.”

“No, Clint, I wouldn't have. This is no longer about us. It's about two little boys.” She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. “It's about you, too. Friends help each other.”

As they crossed the yard to trees at the back of the house, Clint didn't comment.

“Janie talked to our pastor.” Willow reached for a few twigs for kindling. “He wants to have a prayer service tomorrow night.”

“What about the boys?”

“We'll take them to the nursery and let them play.”

“Okay.” He touched her arm and pointed back to the house. “They want to eat.”

Willow turned and smiled at the boys. They were standing at the corner of the house, side by side.

“I think we're being summoned.” Clint grabbed a few more small limbs. “Coming, guys.”

Willow followed Clint back to the front of the house and dumped her wood next to the pile the boys had dragged up. With that amount of wood, they'd have a fire until late into the night. And maybe that's what Timmy and David planned.

She sat down in the lawn chair and watched as Clint piled kindling and paper. He struck a match, and a little flame burst into life, catching the paper and the smallest twigs.

And then it went out.

He tried again. Willow snickered and the boys laughed. Clint gave her a look and shook his head, but his lips turned into a little smile. A sheepish smile that flickered and then dissolved as he bent to concentrate on the fire, and worry. She knew he was worried.

“I can do this.” He struck another match.

“Of course you can.” Willow agreed, but she shook her head, and the boys laughed again.

Clint sat back on his heels and tossed her the matches. “Go ahead, smarty pants, you get it started.”

Willow stood. “Okay, I'll make you a deal. I'll get the fire started, and you have to roast my hot dogs.”

“Done.” He held out his hand. “Shake on it.”

She didn't want to shake on it. His gaze challenged her, and she took his hand. But he didn't play fair. He held her hand, his thumb brushing hers a few times.

“Thank you for making me smile,” he whispered, and then he kissed her cheek.

The boys covered their mouths. Willow laughed and walked away, but her insides were shaking because he kept switching things around on her, making her want him in her life.

She opened the cabinet on the carport and pulled out a bag of charcoal and starter fluid. As she walked back, Clint called her a cheater.