A Cowboy's Heart (12 page)

 

“When
do
we have time?” He smiled at a lady pushing her cart past them, a baby in the seat.

“Clint, I can't have children.” Her voice broke as she whispered what he already knew, but he hadn't realized that it meant something more.

He was looking at the baby, waving, and Willow was looking at him. Her words registered, and he remembered last night, when he'd held her and it had felt like her heart was breaking, and that a breaking heart was familiar ground to her.

“I know, Willow.”

“I can't have children. I can't have a marriage with children.” She looked away, but not before he saw the broken look in her eyes.

“You have something that does come with a relationship.
Yourself. Willow, when a man falls in love with you, it is about loving
you.
”

“What man doesn't want a child with his name, his eyes, his pitching arm or whatever it is that's important to men.”

“You're right, I guess, that's something a man does think about. But…”

She reached for the cart. “I can't talk about this.”

“You're running from what we both know isn't going to go away.” He walked next to her as she headed for the check-out with a cart full of junk food.

Would his feelings for her go away? He wanted to fold her in his arms and hold her forever. He'd never felt that before, not once in his life. It had nothing to do with fixing her.

“There are a lot of things that aren't going away, Clint.”

He didn't have a clue what she meant by that, but she was piling groceries on the belt and talking to the cashier. He sighed, because he knew this wasn't the time or place. What had started as a little teasing had gone way wrong.

“Okay, we'll play this your way, Willow. We'll talk later.”

She nodded, but he wasn't sure if she heard. And he wondered if later would ever come around.

 

Willow sat in her office, thinking about the previous day with Clint—visiting his father, and then the incident at the store. Heat crawled up her cheeks when she thought about Addie Johns calling friends to inform them that Clint had finally found a woman.

Those women had probably been praying for years that Clint would find a nice girl, settle down and have a few kids. Willow finished her candy bar and tossed the wrapper in the trash can.

Why
hadn't
he found a nice girl and gotten married? She thought she'd ask him. Maybe it had to do with chasing his dreams of being a bull rider, and having family obligations.

The phone rang, and she ignored it. She wasn't in the mood to deal with calls or not being able to hear the caller. She buried her face in her hands and waited until the ringing stopped and the answering machine picked up. The words were fuzzy.

Fuzzier than last week. Even fuzzier than a month ago. And she hadn't returned the call to her doctor because she didn't want to know the test results. Not yet. She didn't want to tell Janie, who was busy making arrangements for a trip to Florida with her friends.

She didn't want to tell Clint, because it felt good to have him in her life, treating her like someone who could take care of herself.

The door to her office opened, and Clint peeked in, smiling as he knocked on the side of the door frame. The boys jumped in ahead of him. They were wearing shorts, T-shirts and rubber boots.

“What are you guys up to?”

“Going fishing.” Timmy held up his fishing pool. “Wanna come with us?”

David smiled, his fishing pole held tight in his fist. But he wasn't asking her to go. This morning he had told her he really just wanted his mom's hugs.

“Where are you going fishing?” she asked, looking up to meet Clint's questioning gaze.

“The creek, down by the church.” He wore bright-red swim trunks and canvas sneakers. “Come on, be a sport.”

“A sport?”

“Yep, the opposite of ‘not a sport.' As in, we really want you to come with us.”

Timmy shook his head. “We think you have the best snacks.”

“Oh, so you have ulterior motives for inviting me?”

“To get you out of this dusty office.” Timmy did a deep-voiced imitation of Clint, and Willow laughed.

“Okay, I'll come along. And I'll bring good snacks. We wouldn't want Uncle Clint to burn the house down.”

Clint ruffled Timmy's hair. “Good job, buddy. Now you guys run down to the house and get that white cooler for drinks.”

Willow watched the boys leave and then she stood, walking around to the front of the desk. Clint was still watching the empty door.

“You okay?” She touched his arm and he turned, his smile a halfway attempt.

“I'm not great. I'm pretty sure I'm failing at this whole guardian thing. David is throwing fits, and Timmy is trying to take over as the ‘head of the house.'”

“You're doing fine, Clint. They're just sad little guys right now, and you all have a lot of adjusting to do.”

“I guess so, but I sure hope I don't mess them up before she gets back.”

“You won't mess them up. I won't let you.”

He smiled, and then his expression softened. He touched her hair, and she shivered as his fingers slid down the strand, twirling it around and then letting it drop.

When had she stopped telling him that they couldn't do this, couldn't cross the line? When had his presence in her life started to feel like a forever-dream again?

When would the bottom drop out and leave her heart broken again?

“Having you here was pretty good planning on God's part.” He glanced at the door and stepped away from her.

The boys rushed back into the room.

“Ready to go?” Clint asked, like nothing had happened. And Willow decided that nothing had, not really.

Except that Timmy was laughing, and David looked suspicious. Timmy spoke up. “Were you gonna kiss her, Uncle Clint?”

“Now, Timmy, what gentleman asks a question like that?”

“I just wanted to know.” The boy dragged his feet a little and looked up, kind of sheepish. Willow didn't buy it because she saw the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Right.” Clint took the cooler. “Come on, let's get good snacks and go fishing.”

“I need to check on one of my bulls.” Willow grabbed her keys off the desk. “Can I meet you at the house?”

“Do you want me to do something?”

“No, I can do it.” She followed them out of the barn, and as they headed across the gravel road to the house, she walked down the side of the fence and climbed over at the padlocked gate.

Dolly had been bullying a younger bull earlier in the day. She wanted to make sure the bigger animal hadn't done any damage. First she had to find him. She saw Dolly. He was standing at the watering trough, looking innocent. The other bull wasn't in sight.

C
lint turned when he heard a bull bellow. He shouted, but Willow didn't turn. She kept walking, as if she had no idea. He yelled again, and the boys screamed. The black bull that had been standing along the far fence was running toward her as she walked in the opposite direction.

“Willow!”

He left the boys standing in the yard and ran. He knew he wouldn't make it in time. He could only pray that he made it in time to keep the bull from killing her. He prayed she would hear him and turn around.

The bull hit her from behind, pushing her to the ground and wallowing her into the dirt. She did what a bull rider would do, curled into a ball and tried to roll out from under the pounding hooves.

Clint climbed the fence and jumped to the ground, yelling at the bull and waving his arms. Willow lay motionless on the ground. The bull changed directions as Bell came running across the field. The dog charged at the bull's legs, leading the animal away.

“Willow?” He dropped to his knees next to her, brushing a hand across her face. “Willow, wake up.”

Her eyes opened briefly and then closed again. Clint pulled her close and stood up, holding her limp form in his arms.

“Honey, you sure aren't light.” He kissed her forehead. Her eyes fluttered again. “Wake up, okay?”

She blinked again and groaned, her hand going to her head. He watched, helplessly, as blood oozed from the cut. When he was almost to the truck, he shouted for Timmy to open the door.

David stood to the side, his teeth worrying his lip and his eyes wide in fear. He smiled at the boy, hoping to ease his fears.

“She's okay, guys.” He prayed he wasn't lying. He slid her into the truck and then rummaged for napkins he'd stored in the console between the seats. “Climb in the back.”

He turned and the boys were scurrying to the driver's side to do what he'd asked. He held the napkins to her forehead, and she moaned and opened her eyes again.

“Hold on, we're going to the hospital.”

She didn't say anything, and her eyes closed.

 

Silence and cold were the two things she noticed first. But a warm hand touched her cheek. Willow blinked, and it hurt. Her head ached, and the light hit right behind her eyes. She blinked again and then managed to keep her eyes open. Clint stood in front of her, his expression full of concern.

W
ELCOME BACK
, he signed, his lips moving. No sound.

What had happened? Panic hit, she moved, trying to get up. Pain shot through her head and down her back. She groaned and let firm hands push her back to the mattress.

The nurse smiled, her lips moved. “Calm down.”

Willow closed her eyes, trying to remember. She opened them again when Clint's hand touched her arm. His hand, because it was rough, strong, and warm. A doctor stood next to him, asking questions.

D
O YOU REMEMBER WHAT DAY IT IS
? Clint signed.

“Thursday.” She moved her hand to her ears. “Where are the hearing aids?”

B
ROKEN
. D
O YOU REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED
?

“I think a truck got loose and ran over me.”

C
LOSE
,
IT WAS A BULL
. He was smiling, but the lines around his mouth were tight, and humor didn't light his gray eyes.

“It felt like a truck.” She wanted to smile, but everything hurt. And she shuddered, remembering. She remembered the ground vibrating, and being hit from behind. That big head had pushed her down, and her forehead had hit something hard.

Y
OU REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED
? Clint's hands moved, asking the question.

“Yes, I remember. I think the bull knocked me down. I was going to check on him.”

Clint sat down on the stool next to her bed.
Willow, you didn't hear me
.

She looked away, smiling when Janie walked through the door. “I'm fine. I'm not sure why the two of you look so worried.”

W
E'RE WORRIED BECAUSE WE
…He looked away. B
ECAUSE WE CARE ABOUT YOU
.

She touched her head, wincing because the pain was sharp. She hadn't heard Clint. Tears squeezed between closed eyes, warm on her cheeks. She shivered, and a blanket slid over her.

When she opened her eyes, Clint was there, no one else. “Thank you for being here.”

“That's what friends do. They help each other. You've helped me with the boys. You've given us a place to stay, and you make them feel safe.” He signed the words and his lips moved.

“They're easy to love.” She covered his hand that rested on her arm. “Where did Janie go?”

“She left so that I could talk to you.”

“Oh.” An intervention. Great.

“You didn't hear me.”

“Maybe you weren't shouting loud enough.”

“Willow, you have to tell us what's going on. We care about you.” His hands moved as he spoke, showing his anger in a way that she clearly understood. “I guess you don't have to tell me, but I do think you owe Janie an explanation.”

She looked away, not ready for this, for finding out the truth about his friendship. Would it last when he learned the truth? He touched her arm, and she couldn't ignore him, or the truth, any longer.

And she reminded herself how few hearing people had ever taken the time to sign for her. She'd always relied on reading lips. Clint had bridged that gap. He didn't have to.

“I know that I owe you both an explanation. But I didn't want this to keep Janie from moving.”

“This.”

“My hearing is going to get progressively worse.”

E
XPLAIN
, he signed.

“Profound hearing loss. The hearing aids will be practically or totally useless. It's hard to tell at this point.”

He sighed, and his hand went to his chest, his fist circling his heart. I'
M SORRY
.

She nodded, because what else could he say, or she say? This was it, the truth, the inevitable. This was where she learned how strong a friendship they had.

This is where she found out if he stayed in her life or walked.

“It isn't the end of the world.” She'd had a few days to deal with the news. She could see shock all over his face.

“Of course it isn't.” He smiled as he said the words.

Reality was easy to think about, until a person was face-to-face with it. Complete hearing loss—a huge change in how she lived, and how the people around her lived their lives.

It changed everything.

“Where are the boys?” she asked.

I
N THE WAITING ROOM WITH
J
ANIE
, he signed, and she nodded.

“We should go. They're probably hungry. And I ruined their day at the creek.”

“The boys are fine with Janie. She's going to take them home, and she's going to call your folks to let them know what happened.”

“No, don't call my parents. They'll just worry, and I don't want them to worry.”

T
HEY'RE YOUR PARENTS
, Clint signed, and then he stood up, like he meant to leave. She didn't want him to go. “And they'll be hurt if they find out later.”

“I have a concussion, and my head hurts. I need to sleep.”

N
O SLEEPING
. A new doctor entered the room, a woman with short brown hair and fingers adept at signing. Y
OU'LL HAVE TO STAY AWAKE FOR A WHILE
. A
ND
I
WOULD REALLY LIKE IT IF YOU WOULD SPEND THE NIGHT
.

Willow groaned and closed her eyes. “No, please don't make me spend the night.”

It felt like five years ago, when everyone made the decisions for her. But it wasn't. This time she had Janie and Clint. And she had faith. Five years ago she had really and truly been on her own, with God as an afterthought, filed somewhere at the back of her mind like so many other childhood memories.

“Does she have to spend the night?” Clint signed and spoke to the doctor, not leaving Willow out of the conversation. “We can keep an eye on her.”

The doctor looked from Willow to Clint. “I want her to stay for a few hours, and then we'll discuss her going home.”

Clint patted her arm to get her attention. “I'll go talk to Janie about taking the boys home. Or I can take them home, and Janie can stay with you. Either way, one of us will be here.”

Willow closed her eyes and nodded. When she opened them, Clint was gone. He was talking to Janie. Or had he left? She couldn't find a clock on the wall and had no way of knowing what
time it was or how long she'd been there. She closed her eyes again, wanting to escape the pain, because it wasn't just the bumps and bruises from the bull that hurt.

 

Willow was asleep when Clint walked through the curtain partition that separated her from other patients. He didn't want to wake her, but knew he had to. She looked peaceful in sleep, as if it was rest that she needed.

He touched her arm, and her eyes flickered and opened. His smile brought one from her, and then her hand touched the place on her forehead where they'd given her a few stitches.

“Ouch,” she whispered. “That's going to leave a mark.”

He smiled and laughed a little. “Yes, it's going to leave a mark.”

“Does it look bad?”

Y
OU LOOK BETTER THAN YOU DID
, he signed, and then laughed. “Not that you ever look bad. I mean, you usually look great.”

“I'm not sure if I feel hurt or complimented.” She pushed the button and lifted the bed to a sitting position. “I do know that I'm ready to get out of here.”

“You have to stay until the doctor releases you. And I wouldn't push her. She isn't in favor of you leaving today.”

“The boys…”

“Are fine with Janie.” He scooted the stool closer to her side. “Willow, this is serious. We need to come up with a plan.”

“Clint.”

He lifted his hands and shook his head. “You're right, none of my business.”

“No, it isn't your business.” She smiled past him, and he turned in time to see a nurse walk away. Willow's hands began a quick firing of words. I
DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO COME UP WITH A PLAN
.

W
HY
?

A
VOIDANCE
. I
KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING TO MY OWN BODY
. I
ALSO KNOW THAT IF
J
ANIE KNOWS
,
SHE'LL PUT OFF MOVING
.

Y
OU THINK YOU'RE ONLY STRONG IF YOU HOLD ON AND DON'T LET PEOPLE HELP YOU
.

I'
VE LET YOU HELP
. She smiled like it all made perfect sense. “Now, I really want to get out of here, Clint. I want to sleep in my own room. I want to have breakfast with Janie and the boys.”

“For a price I could see if it could be arranged.”

“For a price?”

“You have to let friends face this with you. You're not alone, so stop acting like you are.” He smiled, to soften the words. “Trust your friends.”

“I know, and I do trust you. But you have your hands full with the boys. And if this is going to happen, I have to deal with it and learn how to keep going.”

“I know, but just remember, you can trust me.”

 

Trust. An easy little word but with so many complications.

It was easy to commit to someone when things were going well, when there were no obstacles in the way. But obstacles could damage any relationship, even something as simple as friendship.

She was going to lose her hearing. End of story. That was a big complication.

Clint touched her hand, drawing her attention back to him. “It's going to be okay. And I'm going to be here to help.”

“I know. And I do trust you.”

“You're saying what you think I want to hear because you want something. You want to go home.”

She shrugged. “Is it working?”

“No.”

Of course not. He wasn't easy to dissuade. He wasn't prone to chasing rabbits or getting off track.

“Okay, fine, we'll talk. I've been dealing with this, trying to get through it and adjust.”

“But you're doing this alone, and we could have helped.”

“You won't always be here.” She shifted her gaze toward the window, away from his sympathy. “Janie won't always be here. What am I going to do with my business when I can't hear a caller on the telephone, or announcers at events?”