A Texas Ranger's Family (4 page)

Daniel offered a silent plea.
Lord, I sure hope You know what You're doing here.

 

The three people Erin saw standing beside her bed were linked in a typical Christmas card pose. Artificial and forced. Family in its “natural” state. She sent up a prayer.

Lord, I put this all behind me years ago. What is Your purpose in dragging me back? I lost consciousness in one battle zone and regained it in another. I hope You know what You're doing here.

“Hey, you're awake.” Dana was the first to notice.

“And hungry,” Erin replied. She hated dropping such an obvious hint but the flow of conditioned air from the kitchen, positioned next to the solarium, was pulling a mouthwatering aroma right beneath her nose.

“Well, it's probably not as exotic as what you're used to, but it's one of Daniel's favorite meals. Round steak, corn, mashed potatoes and gravy.” There was pride in LaVerne's voice. The woman was crazy about her son.

“If by
exotic
you mean an MRE, I'll stand in your chow line any day.”

“MRE?”

“Meals Ready to Eat. ‘Yummy' freeze-dried military rations,” Erin explained to Dana, glad for a safe subject. “Believe it or not, they're pretty decent but I prefer a camel kabob when I can get one.”

“Eeeeeuuuuuuuuu!” Dana's face squinted in disgust. “You've eaten camel?”

“Does it taste like chicken?” Daniel asked.

“Not even close,” she answered. “It tastes like…
camel.
Really tough and gamy unless you can get a cut from the hump where the meat is less sinewy.”

“I don't know about any camel's hump but I've got supper in the kitchen from a cow's rump, so let's eat.” LaVerne headed toward the door. “Dana, I need you to set the table pronto, and no back talk.”

Dana noted her father's better-do-as-she-says shrug and left the room.

“Would you like a tray in here?” he offered. “It might be too much for you to come to the table tonight, but it's your call.”

Hmm…Stay in here alone while they talk about me
or join them in the dining room while they watch my every move. Either way, I'm a big loser who needs somebody to cut my meat.

As tempting as it sounded to hide out on the lovely glass-enclosed porch, it was time to get started. Erin justified her agreement to join them in Houston as part of her rehab strategy. She'd made up her mind to look at every task as therapy. The sooner she could function on her own, the sooner she could get back to active duty. Behind the camera lens where she could record the lives of others. It was so much safer than engaging in the messy stuff herself.

“I'd like to eat with the rest of you, if it's all right.”

“Yeah, sure. Just let me get the wheelchair ready.” He started to turn away, too much of a gentleman to answer any differently.

“Daniel.” Erin lowered her voice so the others wouldn't hear. “Thank you for allowing me into your home. I know this is as difficult for you as it is for me, and I promise as soon as I can physically manage on my own, I'll get out of your life.”

“It's Dana's life I'm worried about, not mine and not yours. I agreed to have you here for her benefit. Stay as long as you need to and don't leave before you're ready.” He glanced toward the door, took a step closer and lowered his voice, as well. “But when you're ready, you're leaving
alone.
Understand?”

“Perfectly.”

His narrowed eyes said he meant business. And who could blame him.

“Dad, if we have leftovers, will you make potato pancakes for breakfast before church?” Dana pleaded
from the other room where she plunked dishes and flatware on a tabletop.

“Church?”

Dana had talked a lot about their church home. They knew everybody and attending a service would put Erin on display. She was going to have to pass on the very first opportunity to work on mobility.

“Of course,” Daniel answered. He leaned close but waited for her nod to signal permission before sliding supportive arms beneath her knees and the small of her back and lifting without effort. As he settled her into the chair and folded a gosh-awful-looking crocheted thing over her lap, his moss-green eyes locked with hers.

“And don't even think about beggin' off. This family worships together. And whether either one of us likes it or not, Erin, for a little while anyway you're part of this family.”

S
unday morning in Texas was nothing like Erin remembered and everything she'd once imagined it could be.

The chatter that echoed in the kitchen was contentious but good-natured. The dialogue between grandparent and grandchild was one disagreement after another with Daniel acting as mediator. But the dichotomy in the conversation never once escalated into the bitter shouts or harsh threats that accompanied dissent in her family experiences.

As with the meal the night before, breakfast around the pedestal-style oak table was a learning experience for Erin while it seemed like a social event for the others. Conversation stayed clear of the elephant in the room. She blessed Daniel, yet again, for obviously having reminded LaVerne and Dana against pressing for details that weren't offered voluntarily.

But Dana deserved to know something, didn't she? Where to start?

“These potato pancakes are a first for me,” Erin mumbled over a mouthful of the tasty breakfast.

Dana's fork hovered between her plate and her mouth.

“Nobody ever fixed this at your house?”

Erin busied herself managing a fork in her left fist while she considered how much Dana could handle. There was no doubt the girl had been shortchanged without a mother, but on the other hand, Daniel had provided a pretty sweet deal. Their two-story brick home shaded by hundred-year-old pecan trees was in an affluent Houston neighborhood. Since Daniel had brought Dana up in church, it was Erin's fair guess that he also ensured a quality after-school environment. If nothing else the teenager's appearance was evidence she was respected and given free choice in personal areas so critical to one her age.

How could Dana possibly relate to growing up in a home where constant danger and uncertainty prevailed? Best to withhold that insight.

“Nope,” Erin answered the question. “I grew up in a cold cereal kind of house.”

Daniel sipped coffee, squinting at her above the rim of his oversized cup. The message of his stare would be more revealing on film, but for now it appeared a cross between censorship and curiosity. It was hard to recall how little she'd told him during their brief marriage, but Erin was certain she hadn't shared much prior to the string of foster homes.

“If you think this is good, wait till you have Daddy's pork spareribs. He cooks them all day and uses molasses in the barbecue sauce.”

“Don't be giving away all my secrets,” Daniel teased, turning his eyes and attention on Dana.

“And there's nothing like Grandma Verne's butt
cake.” Dana was clearly impressed with whatever deserved that description.

“Excuse me?” Erin asked for details.

“It's really Boston cream pie,” LaVerne admitted with a proud smile. “But it's so loaded with calories that it goes straight to your backside. Hence the nickname given by my daughter-in-law who lives on the ranch.”

“Tell me about this ranch.” Erin kept their attention diverted from herself.

“Oh, puuuleeeeease…” Dana groaned.

“There will be plenty of time for that conversation. Right now, we've gotta get going or we'll be late for church. Mama, would you please help Dana with Erin's needs while I clean up in here?” Daniel instructed. “I'll have the truck running and the AC on high for you ladies in thirty minutes.”

 

Daniel glanced frequently into the rearview mirror, keeping an eye on his backseat where Dana gave Erin the lowdown on Abundant Harvest. He lifted up a silent prayer of gratitude for his daughter's excitement over their church community. The contemporary sanctuary doubled as a gym where it was a safe haven for hundreds of teens who gathered there on weeknights. Dana served with the youth's music ministry, where she'd become interested in the technical ins and outs of live worship. Of course, it didn't hurt that the high school praise band was one of the hottest in the state. Whatever the reason, it was comforting to know where his kid and her friends were hanging out on nights when she was free to socialize.

“There's a special place reserved for visitors.” Dana pointed toward the front of the sanctuary.

“No, thanks.” Erin's response was resolute.

She'd been cooperative so far, but Daniel wasn't surprised when Erin declined the front-and-center spot. Clearly, her comfort was in being the observer, not the observed.

As always, the morning's worship and praise was lively. The pastor's teaching on guarding your heart was relevant to the point of being worrisome. And the newcomer welcome after the service was warm and inviting. Daniel was grateful for his years of friendship and counseling with Pastor Ken, so there was little need to explain the sudden appearance of Erin Gray in their lives.

“I've been praying for your recovery since the day Daniel got word of your injuries.” Ken Allen had pulled a chair up and sat knee to knee with Erin and held her left hand as he spoke. “But I never imagined you'd be here with us today. God is awesome to bless us with a visit by someone with your talent.”

“Thank you.” Erin ducked her head, evidently touched by the pastor's words.

“I know it's a bit soon, but would you consider speaking to our graduates before they head off to college? Just let me know when you're up to it and I'll arrange everything.”

Erin's eyes sought Daniel's. If she expected him to intervene, she was out of luck.

“Oh, I don't know, Pastor.” She slipped her hand from his and ran unadorned fingertips through her hair. “My skills are all self-taught and I don't have any speaking experience at all.”

“Even better,” Ken encouraged. “These kids don't want a presentation. They just need to hear you talk
about your relationship with God and your passion for your work.”

“Well, if that's all you have in mind, I guess I could do it in a few weeks when I'm back on my feet.”

“Perfect.” Ken rubbed his palms together. “We'll see you again next weekend.” He stood and clasped hands with Daniel. “I'll be in touch soon, my friend.”

“Pastor?” Erin called as Ken was about to greet another visitor.

“Yes, ma'am?” He turned back to her.

“How is it that you know I have a relationship with God?”

“Are you serious?” The light in Ken's eyes was like a gift he wanted to share. “Your work speaks volumes about you. Nobody could capture the Creator's touch like that without knowing Him personally.”

 

Sunday afternoon was peaceful enough. After a light meal each person moved to a private space. Erin's quiet quarters were disturbed only by the half hour chimes of a mantle clock. Even so, she knew it was a temporary calm. She was experiencing the eye of hurricane Stabler. By Monday morning the gale force would appear again as life in the household resumed full speed with their patient at the center of the whirlwind.

Having others care for her physical needs was a humbling experience. Erin was certain she didn't deserve and could never repay Daniel's kindness. He'd said she was there for Dana's sake, but Erin had no idea where to start or how to meet the raw need sometimes revealed in Dana's eyes.

What she
could
do, however, was recuperate in
record time and return to her own lifestyle so Daniel could do the same.

That recuperation started with a private therapist who would visit each morning to focus on strengthening Erin's back and rehabilitating her right arm. It had been nearly severed three inches above the elbow, but the military physicians in Iraq had more than their fair share of experience with the delicate microsurgery. They'd reattached bone, reconnected nerves and restored blood flow. Erin could twitch her fingers but there was no sensation in them, only numbness. If the feeling never returned, as she'd been warned may happen, how would the loss of sensitivity impact her abilities?

There was only one way to find out and that was to handle her Nikon as soon as she got the green light to exert her arm beyond the blob of putty she was supposed to squeeze constantly.

The cell phone trilled on the bed beside her.

“What's up, boss?” J.D. was the likely caller.

“Wow! Not only a cheerful but a quick answer.” He poked fun at her reputation for being on the go with no time to talk.

“And why does that surprise you?”

“Because the number of times I haven't had to leave a voice mail and wait seventy-two hours for you to return my call can be counted on three fingers.”

“I have a few more hours on my hands these days since I'm not exactly tied up.” She glanced at the IV tube that had her tethered to an aluminum pole. “Strike that. I'm definitely tied up, just not with assignments. But I was thinking about that just a few minutes ago and—”

“Erin,” J.D. interrupted, his voice losing its humorous note. “Give it a rest, will ya? There will be plenty of war, pestilence and famine when you've recovered enough to come back. Meanwhile, try to appreciate having this downtime. Read good books, watch chick flicks. Just appreciate the fact that you're alive.”

“I know, I know. And I'm grateful that I'm just in a bed and not a pine box. But my work is my reason to get up in the morning, J.D.”

“Well, maybe it's time you found a new purpose. Kid, I love the bureau, but Mary Ellen and our boys are what I live for. You're a young woman with plenty of reasons to get out from behind the camera and focus on real life, no pun intended. You need to get to know that beautiful daughter while she still has time for you. Trust me, in a few more years, you'll have to make an appointment to see her.”

“Thanks for the advice, Grandpa Walton. Can I ask a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Will you ship me some equipment?”

“I'll put that on my To Do list. But the reason I called is to let you know I'm heading for the West Coast tomorrow morning. I scheduled a stopover in Houston just long enough to drop a few things off.”

Erin felt a shiver in the sunny room. J.D. was going to fly several hours, rent a car and navigate the crazy Houston interstates for a brief visit. There had to be more to it then he was willing to say on the phone. This must be something he has to do in person.

“I hate to see you go to so much trouble,” she tried to dissuade him.

“The itinerary is all set, so don't try to talk me out of it. I have the address and I'll be there by three o'clock.”

Yep, the man's on a mission. She prayed it was from God and not Corporate.

 

Daniel relaxed in his home office on the back side of the second floor, directly above the sun porch. He'd installed an upstairs ringer for the doorbell so he wouldn't miss package deliveries. When the front bell chimed, he glanced up from his discipleship study to the time flashing in the corner of his computer monitor. It was Sunday afternoon and he wasn't expecting anyone.

Must be for Dana.

The bell rang a second time.

“I've got it,” he called. Three steps from the bottom of the staircase he saw the visitor through the arched window in the door. Candace Dickerson. The curvy blonde was beyond neighborly, she was downright available.

But in a nice Southern girl way.

Candace was unmarried, educated, produced cooking shows for the local cable station and attended Abundant Harvest. She was everything a red-blooded man in his late thirties would be looking for in a woman and mother for his child. But Daniel wasn't looking. He was content to raise Dana by himself, never dating or accepting invitations to singles' social events. His unattached status suited his daughter just fine and he preferred to keep it that way.

But nothing stopped Candace from trying.

“Hey, Daniel!” She gave his waist a squeeze with one arm and kissed the air near his face as only a proper
Texas gal can. “Your sweet mama said you'd be bringin' company home and I thought I'd drop off a fresh batch of my homemade pecan pralines.”

“Did I hear ‘pralines'?” Dana called as she hurried down the stairs. The two women hugged and his daughter helped herself to the tin of gooey confections.

“Interesting you heard the mention of candy but you didn't hear the doorbell.” Daniel was actually grateful for Dana's arrival. His daughter's presence would keep everything family-friendly.

“Come on out to the porch and meet Erin.” Dana led the way.

“Why sure,” Candace agreed, looking to Daniel who offered no explanation. She fell into step behind Dana.

Trepidation gripped Daniel anew each time he remembered Erin was in his home, in their lives. She'd gotten comfortable in the rattan chaise near the windows. Her hair was backlit by the setting summer sun casting a rosy halo around her tanned face. She wore some of the loose-fitting gray scrubs Walter Reed tailored to accommodate the physical limitations of their soldiers. They were functional but ugly.

LaVerne relaxed on the matching love seat and something the two just shared had them smiling. Since his mama was prone to telling stories from his days as a boy on the ranch, Daniel had good reason to suspect their amusement was at his expense.