A Home in Hill Country (Harlequin Heartwarming) (11 page)

“Trevor and Garrett went.” There’d been no point in going. He and Ryan had never gotten along, and the State Senate had been in session.

Still, Lydia’s words cut deep. “But you can hardly judge, right? His own mother didn’t bother.”

“I…couldn’t.”

Something wasn’t quite right, he realized. She’d always been angular, in a sophisticated Kate Hepburn way, but… “Why, Lydia?”

She lifted her hand in an airy wave. “You know, the usual. We had a showing at the gallery, and Harris was gone for a few weeks, so everything was up to me…and then there was a buying trip….”

At her longtime boyfriend’s name, Clint bristled. He strode to the coffeemaker, poured himself a cup and lifted it in mocking salute. “I have an appointment. Make yourself at home.”

L
YDIA WRAPPED
her arms around herself against a sudden chill as Clint walked out the door. It had always been like this. Fire and fuel, the two of them. They’d made so many mistakes. Selfish mistakes born of passion and stubbornness and personalities too strong to ever truly mesh. It had been the children who’d suffered the most.

But nothing of that painful past could be changed.

This would be her last chance to try to heal old wounds and make things right. And with any luck, she’d have enough time left to do it.

K
RISTIN GRINNED
at the tall, lanky cowboy standing at the front desk of the clinic. With those green eyes and that thick brown hair, Ethan Ritter had to be quite a heartbreaker in these parts, though she also sensed a quiet reserve that probably kept most women at bay.

“You’re telling me that you’re due for a tetanus shot…but you don’t really want it?”

He flashed a smile at her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“So…maybe I should ask our nurse to help me?” She glanced over her shoulder at Max, who was standing by the file cabinets behind the desk. He flexed his muscles and managed a scowl that was more caricature than fierce.

“No, ma’am. I’m just letting you know that sometimes I get a little woozy.” He handed over his completed health history. “I’ve seen a few too many needles in my time.”

She motioned him to follow her down to the first exam room, where she weighed him, then had him sit on the edge of the exam table so she could take his blood pressure and listen to his heart.

“Anything else you want to discuss, other than an overdue tetanus?”

“No, ma’am.”

She glanced down at his history, then looked up at him. “Looks like you’ve been healthy as a horse, other than a mild lead toxicity as a child. I see it was successfully treated, though. Your heart and lungs sound perfect, Mr. Ritter.”

Max walked into the room with a loaded syringe, tactfully circling behind the exam table as he would have if there’d been a child in the room, and handed it to her. He waited until she’d delivered the booster, then quietly left.

“So…are you okay?” she said, checking Ethan’s skin color and pulse.

“Man, you’re good.” He rubbed his arm and smiled. “Didn’t feel a thing.”

She laughed. “Now I know you’re kidding, because tetanus toxoid
burns.
”

“I hear you have Jim Baxter’s horses,” he said as he rolled down his sleeve and buttoned his shirt. “He was a good friend of mine.”

After growing up in the Dallas area, the grapevine in this small town still surprised and delighted her. “Now, how did you know that?”

“I bought a load of hay this past week from Miranda Wright. We all felt bad when Jim died, and she was real glad his horses have gone back
to their old home. Those horses meant everything to him.”

“They’ll have the best of care, I promise. My son is just thrilled about having his own horse.”

“I’m a trainer, so give me a call if you have any problems with them. Jim would’ve wanted them to be secure in a good home, so I sure won’t charge you.” He stood and accepted the billing form she’d completed. “I’m one of the homesteaders, too. My place is just a few miles from yours.”

They shook hands. “Nice to meet you, neighbor. The Home Free program is an incredible opportunity, isn’t it?”

“It is, though not everyone…” He hesitated, as if debating how much to say, then his doubtful expression cleared and he simply gave her a friendly nod. “Nice meeting you.”

After cleaning up the exam room, she went out to the front desk. “Any word from Dr. Lou?”

Max shook his head. “Not since she called at nine. I guess that baby is taking its own sweet time in coming.” He chuckled as he followed her eyes to the clock. “And you-know-who is due here in five minutes.”

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” Kristin rolled her eyes. “He not only dislikes me personally, but I’m sure he thinks a P.A. is second-best. Fortunately, I’ve got the cardiologist’s report and recommen
dations here. That’s what the doctor would have discussed with him, anyway.”

“Good luck. From what I hear, the guy is quite a piece of work. Down at the barbershop, the guys were saying something about favors and bribes—they even implied he has cronies in the local bank, and has been able to influence the outcome of loan applications.”

She didn’t doubt it for a minute. “Really.”

“One old guy warned me to watch out, because Clint is really bitter about the homestead program buying up ranch land he wanted for himself. But what’s he going to do? My loan went through, and—”

The front door of the clinic opened with a tinkling of bells, and the man himself walked in, his face a grim mask. Dressed in a perfectly tailored dark suit, crisp white shirt and dark burgundy tie, he looked more ready for a senate committee meeting than a small-town clinic, where the staff wore jeans and running shoes with their uniform tops.

“I hope the doctor’s ready, because I don’t have time to wait,” he announced, looking past Kristin to Max.

“The doctor isn’t actually here yet. She’s delivering a baby in San Antone,” Kristin said. “I have your reports from the cardiologist, though. I can go over them with you and get you set up with the correct prescriptions.”

He halted halfway across the waiting room, his jaw working. “I made an appointment with the doctor, and that’s who I expect to see.”

“She should be here within a few hours. Otherwise, if you want to reschedule she won’t be back here for two weeks.” Kristin flipped to that page in the appointment book. “That’s the twenty-fourth of September.”

“Forget it, then.” He turned on his heel to leave.

“No—wait,” she insisted. “You need to hear what’s in the report, and you definitely need to be on the recommended prescriptions. The cardiologist’s notes are adamant.” He wavered.

“Please. Just come on back. It will only take a few minutes.” Thankful the waiting room was empty, she added, “He believes you’re at high risk for a heart attack. This appointment isn’t something you should put off.”

Muttering something under his breath, Clint gestured sharply. “Fine,” he snapped. “Let’s get this over with.”

Kristin led him into the doctor’s private office, figuring he’d be more comfortable there. She waved him toward a chair and took a seat behind the desk, where she withdrew the new cardiology reports from Clint’s medical folder. “Your old records from Austin show that you’ve had long-standing heart failure. You were put on a
couple of medications, and the doctor wanted you to come in every two months so he could check your blood pressure and heart. The letter he sent us says he hasn’t seen you in over a year.”

Clearly bored, Clint picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his sleeve.

“Your cholesterol is 345, your triglycerides are over 400. In addition, your latest EKG shows that your heart failure is getting worse. I imagine you find yourself out of breath climbing stairs, and that there’s increased swelling in your ankles.”

When he didn’t respond, she read the cardiologist’s report aloud. “He wants you to have a cath done, the sooner the better, and he wants you to make an appointment with him—or your former cardiologist.”

She slid a stack of four prescriptions and a referral slip across the desk. “I’ve written these out already, so you just need to take them to the pharmacy and have them filled. I’d suggest you do it today. Any questions?”

He reluctantly fingered the papers, then grabbed them and stuffed them in his suit pocket as he stood.

“Look,” she said, fighting to keep her voice level. “I know we have a history. I know you don’t like me, and that’s okay. But you need to follow through on this for the sake of your family—if you want to be around for them.”

That must have hit a chord, because he flashed
her a look of pure venom. “I hear you were at the ranch last week.”

“Twice, actually.”

“Then you really don’t listen very well. I told you to stay away from my family. You weren’t good enough for my son before, and none of that has changed. You hear?”

She reined in a flash of temper. “Not good enough?”

“Think of the tabloids,” he scoffed. “The way they trashed some of the more free-spirited presidential brothers, over the years.”

“You placed more importance on some sleazy journalism than on your own son’s
happiness?
”

“My son, married to the daughter of a ne’er-do-well? A drunk who went bankrupt and couldn’t keep a job? The political damage would’ve been immeasurable, and it would’ve embarrassed this entire family.”

“Yet you hired my father anyway. Obviously he was a better man than you say.”

“No. I hired him years later to give him a chance, and he just proved I was right in the first place about him. He was a drunk, and he was incompetent.”

“My father might’ve tipped a few with his friends, but he was no alcoholic. And it wasn’t his fault that the drought hit or that cattle prices fell. A lot of people in the area suffered.”

“But
they
weren’t trying to weasel into my family.”

“Weasel? You probably can’t relate, but your son and I actually loved each other. It had nothing to do with his family or his money.”

“True love—or true greed?” Clint’s face darkened with anger. “You certainly left in a hurry when I told you that I’d disown him if he defied me. That, my dear, says it all.”

“I…didn’t want him to lose everything because of me.”

“Right,” he snarled. “And because of you he defied me anyway. I lost my son.”

“Lost him? You
disowned
him. It was your decision to slam the door. Otherwise, he might’ve come back after a few years in the service.”

“You have no idea of the damage you’ve caused.” Clint shoved his chair back and swept out of the room. The air still vibrated with his anger after he was gone.

She leaned back in her chair, suddenly exhausted.

She’d heard him all right, and still remembered every word, every threat he’d made all those years ago. Because she had believed him, she’d walked away from the only true love she’d ever had.

And nothing in her life had ever been the same again.

T
HE REST OF THE DAY
grew busier by the minute. Flu. A broken arm. Pneumonia. A ranch hand with a severe laceration and a burn after wrestling a husky calf during branding.

Dr. Lou showed up at noon, which helped, but they still didn’t finish until after five-thirty.

Cody, who’d stayed after school for football practice, and had been dropped off at the clinic at five by Trevor’s wife, was far more subdued about the wait than he usually was.

“Come on, honey,” Kristin said as she shouldered her bag and headed for the door. “I’ll bet you’re famished.”

“I guess.”

“Maybe we should stop at the DQ for some cheeseburgers and malts. What do you think, are you hungry enough?” He just nodded.

Even after several talks about the incident at the Four Aces, he’d refused Donna’s invitation to go back there again and hadn’t even wanted to go riding yesterday, which added to Kristin’s worry.

At the DQ, they settled at a table under a brightly striped umbrella with hot fudge malts, cheeseburgers and an extra large basket of onion rings.

Cody dug into the onion rings, while Kristin savored her juicy cheeseburger and idly surveyed the jumble of businesses on the edge of town. A parts store, a feed store…and a little farther out,
she could see just the top of the sign for Buddy’s Auto Shop.

She’d wanted to get out there for a week now, but the clinic’s schedule had filled rapidly and Buddy’s hours were erratic. He’d been closed every time she managed to get out there at five. But maybe…

She stood and shaded her eyes as she scanned the low hill behind the businesses flanking the main highway out of town. Perhaps she couldn’t actually talk to Buddy himself, but even from here she could make out haphazard rows of old vehicles parked inside a high wooden fence on the slope behind Buddy’s shop. Surely he wouldn’t mind if she just walked back there and tried to peek through the fence.

“I’ve got an idea, Cody. Let’s finish our supper on the way home, okay? I have one stop to make first, and then we’ll get home early enough to ride for a while.”

He nodded obediently and gathered up his burger and malt. When she pulled into a shady spot in front of Buddy’s, he looked at her with astonishment. “We’re stopping
here?
”

She rolled both windows down partway, then hit the locks as she stepped out of the truck. “Stay inside with the doors locked. I’ll just be a minute.”

“But they’re closed.”

“I know. I just want to check out the old cars in
back.” He appeared intrigued with
that
idea, but if he started asking questions, she wouldn’t be able to answer them. Not just yet, anyway. “Finish those onion rings before I get back, or we’ll be fighting over them,” she teased.

She rounded the building, avoiding barrels and greasy puddles. “Hello—anyone here?”

She heard a dog barking, but no one appeared. She skirted the rusted hulks of several old tractors and stacks of various parts and pieces, and warily made her way through the tall weeds to the fenced enclosure out back.

Something rustled past her shoes and she jumped back with a hand at her mouth, imagining snakes and rats. Mosquitoes swarmed about her face as she crossed a low damp spot, where a foul stench rose from rusted drums filled with stagnant rainwater and the iridescent shimmer of discarded oil.

Batting at the persistent insects, she hurried to higher ground.

The fence was a good ten feet tall or more, constructed of solid wood planks, but it was an old one. She slowly moved up the hill, stopping wherever she found warped or broken boards that afforded a glimpse inside. She surveyed the first row of vehicles, then the next.

Many of the vehicles had been parted out down to the barest skeleton. Most looked as if they’d
been there for aeons and were becoming part of the landscape, with sagebrush and twisted cedars growing up through the gaping holes where engines and hoods were missing.

The sun-warmed smell of old oil and rubber made her eyes burn. She’d just reached the halfway point and had steadied herself with a hand on the fence when a dog burst out of the shadows barking furiously, its jaws snapping at the fence not inches away from her.

Startled, she cried out and fell back a step, breathing hard as a rush of adrenaline shot through her.

A second later, a middle-aged man in jeans, an oil-stained shirt and a ball cap strode into view. He didn’t look friendly.

“Down, Rascal,” he commanded. Its tail wagging now, the black Lab backed away, though its eyes never left Kristin’s face.