An Accidental Family (14 page)

Lamont sat across from Adam. “Your mom’s right, son. Julie is mentally ill. I know it’s hard to wrap your mind around it, but it took a lot of love for her to do what she did.”

“Empty our bank accounts to pay for her medications? Why didn’t she just
tell
me she had a problem? That’s what our
insurance
was for!”

“Try to see it from her point of view, honey,” Nadine said. “Julie wasn’t capable of rational thinking. Because of her sickness, she believed she could pull off the charade, and because of the sickness, she convinced herself it was the only way to hold on to you.”

“Maybe,” he said. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

No one spoke for a long time. Finally, Adam broke the sad, strained silence. “Remind me, how old was Julie when they diagnosed her?”

“Between fourteen and fifteen,” Lamont said.

He faced Nadine. “You don’t think. It’s not possible, is it, that… I mean, can the docs do tests, find out if Amy—”

“Adam,” Lamont interrupted, a hand on the younger man’s forearm, “the damage to Julie’s brain was the result of a fever—a very high fever that lasted nearly a week. Schizophrenia isn’t in Amy’s DNA.”

Scrubbing both hands over his face, Adam said, “Well, thank God for that, at least.”

The grandfather clock in the hall gonged, announcing the half hour. Nine-thirty? Sure seemed later, Nadine thought. Much later than that.

She’d sat quietly, trying to absorb everything Lamont had said about Julie and her history. Like Adam, she’d slowly paged through the file as he spoke. For most of the time the folder sat on her lap, the words typed and written by the experts blurred before her eyes. The girl’s peculiar family history—the illness that caused her problems, diagnoses and descriptions of behavior patterns, medications and dosages, psychiatric definitions—raised more questions than answers. And when everything had been said, they still had nothing that might lead them to Julie’s whereabouts.

“If it’s okay with you guys, I’m going upstairs.” Standing, he bent to pick up the folder. “Mind if I take this with me?”

Nodding, Lamont said, “Not at all. But before you head up, how ’bout we pray together?”

Still holding the file, Adam sat beside Nadine. “Thanks for this, Lamont.”

He shrugged. “I only wish it had been more helpful.”

“It gave us more than we had.”

The threesome bowed their heads and closed their eyes as Lamont said, “Dear Heavenly Father, we thank you for the blessings You’ve provided, even during these trying times. We ask that you watch over Julie. Keep her safe until she’s back in the loving arms of her family. Touch her heart, Lord, and remind her that her husband and little girl need her to come home soon.

“Bless this young man, Lord, and turn his confusion and anger into forgiveness and acceptance. Grant him the strength to fulfill his marriage vows, so that
when his young wife returns to him, he can truly live the words
in sickness and in health.
Let him become the earthly source of strength and support she so desperately needs.

“And bless this woman before you, dear God, whose life has been more upside down than right-side up lately. Give her the courage she’ll need to get through these next harrowing days, while the authorities unearth proof that she is innocent of all wrongdoing.

“As for this man, Lord, grant me the wisdom to know what to say and when to say it, what to do and what not to do, for these, Your devoted followers. In Your most holy name, we ask these things…

“Amen,” they said together.

Nadine’s tears didn’t surprise her, for she often cried while praying. Under circumstances like these, the shimmer in her son’s eyes was predictable, too. But when she looked across the small space that separated her from Lamont, and saw that his gray eyes glistened with unshed tears, Nadine knew without question that this was the man God wanted her to spend the rest of her life with.

Adam gave her a sideways hug, rousing her from her reverie. “You’re the best, Mom. I love you,” he said before standing.

Lamont got to his feet, too, and wrapped the younger man in a fatherly embrace. Without words, he conveyed that Adam was loved and accepted, that he could count on Lamont to do anything possible to help put things right.

Unable to speak, Adam merely nodded and left the room.

Once he was out of earshot, Nadine said, “What a
beautiful, meaningful prayer. Thank you, for that, and for everything.”

“Darlin’,” he said, “I only wish I had the power to make the whole mess go away.”

“I know.” And she did, too. “Hungry?”

“You know me.” He patted his thigh. “Hollow leg.” Grinning, he added, “What do you have in mind?”

“How’s a root beer float sound?”

“Can’t remember the last time I had one.”

“Six years ago, at the twenty-fifth anniversary of our church, when I ran the ice cream bar.” She grabbed his hand, led him to the kitchen. “You had a root beer float, a hot fudge sundae and a banana split.”

“You remember what I ate
six years ago?
” He chuckled. “If I had a lick of sense, I’d ask you to marry me, right here and now.”

She might have said, “Go ahead, ask me,” if Amy hadn’t run into the room, blond pigtails askew and pajama top untucked from its matching bottom.

“Something is wrong with Obnoxious!” she blubbered. “He’s breathing funny and he can’t stand up.”

“Thanks for opening the office at this hour, Doc.”

“Happy to do it,” the vet said, leading them to an exam room. “So why do you think it’s rat poison?”

“Drooling, muscle tremors, can’t stand. As I told you on the phone,” Nadine said.

Meb Stone pressed a stethoscope to the dog’s under-belly. “Any idea how much he ingested?”

“No,” Lamont answered. “Frankly, I can’t figure out how he got into the stuff in the first place. I’ve always kept it in the shed, under lock and key.”

Scribbling notes on his clipboard, Stone frowned.
“Maybe he wandered off the ranch, got into something on somebody else’s property?”

“I suppose that’s possible,” Nadine said, remembering that a day earlier, she’d scolded him for tracking bloody fur into the kitchen. “Obviously, some sort of rodent ate the poison and poor Obnoxious ate the rodent.”

At the sound of her voice, Obnoxious raised his head and whimpered. Instantly, she was at his side, stroking his head and uttering soothing words.

Meb winked at Nadine. “Think you can stomach what comes next?”

“If I can’t, all those summers I worked for you were a complete waste.”

“Of your time and mine,” the vet agreed, grinning. “I’ll need to get him on an IV, for starters, take some blood tests… But you know the drill.”

Lamont could birth a foal while blindfolded, and had successfully helped dozens of cows deliver breach calves. While his girls were small, he’d bandaged countless skinned knees and elbows, tended more cases of poison ivy than he cared to count, all without incident. But seeing his beloved dog in this condition set his nerves to jangling.

As Nadine got the IV drip going, Lamont counted yet another reason to admire her. She’d never mentioned having worked for Doc Stone. He could almost picture how she’d react when he mentioned it later. “No big deal,” she’d say with a smile and a shrug. And she’d mean every word.

Lamont stood slack-jawed with amazement as she calmly and deftly inserted a needle, then withdrew several vials of blood. After labeling and setting each one aside, she took Obnoxious’s temperature. It wasn’t until
she pulled a clear-plastic hose from storage cabinet that Lamont flinched. “What’s that for?”

“Sorry,” she started, a look of pity on her gorgeous face, “but we need to induce vomiting. Rat poison thins the blood, so if we don’t—”

“No need to explain. I trust you.” Evidently, so did Obnoxious who, though he hadn’t been anesthetized, lay perfectly still. “He’ll be okay, right, Doc?”

“From the looks of things, I’d say you got him here in the nick of time.”

“He’ll need to go easy for a couple days,” Nadine said. “No food for a day or two, then soft stuff.”

“If he makes it, y’mean,” Lamont put in.

Tilting her head, she narrowed her eyes. “He’s a big, strong dog who loves his life. He’ll make it.” Bending, she kissed the white streak on the dog’s black forehead. “Right, boy?”

Obnoxious made a feeble attempt to lick her cheek, issued a weak whimper and laid his head back down.

Lamont sat on a tall stool in the corner, watching and praying. If anything happened to Obnoxious, well, life at River Valley just wouldn’t be the same without him. The thought conjured an image of Amy, red-eyed and sniffling as she clung to her daddy’s pants leg when Nadine and Lamont left for the veterinary clinic. She loved that dog almost as much as he did. And in the months she’d been with him, Nadine had grown mighty attached to the goofy mutt, too.

Could they handle yet another loss?

Hopefully, they’d never have to find out.

“W
here’s Obnoxious?” Amy demanded the minute they walked in the door.

Hadn’t the poor kid been through enough, he wondered, without having to cope with this, too? Lamont bolted the door as Nadine hugged her. “He’s doing great,” she said, brushing blond bangs from the child’s face. “Doc Stone wants to him to stay at the clinic for a couple of days, to keep an eye on him.”

The girl rubbed sleepy eyes. “Can I go see him?”

“Tomorrow, maybe,” Nadine told her, “if Doc Stone says it’s okay.”

Adam lifted Amy in his arms. “Time for you to hit the hay, peanut,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“Time for you to take your own good advice,” Lamont said. “You look like you’ve been run over by a Mack truck.”

“Yeah, that’s about how I feel, too.” He headed for the staircase, stopping on the landing. “Glad Obnoxious is gonna be okay.”

The grandfather clock gonged once as Adam disappeared around the corner.

“If we’re going to get any sleep at all tonight, maybe I should make us a nice big mug of warm milk.”

Lamont grimaced. “Ack. I’d rather stay up all night.”

“Hot tea, then?”

“How ’bout I brew us a pot of decaf coffee, and maybe while it’s perking, we’ll get sleepy all on our own.”

Her expression said what words needn’t: “It’s worth a try, I suppose.”

The fluorescent bulb in the stove hood bathed the room with an opalescent glow. He tried to concentrate on the task at hand—filling the carafe with water, shoving a filter into the pot’s basket, counting out three scoops of grounds—but Nadine’s blond waves sparkled like spun honey and her eyes shimmered like blue diamonds. He’d made a decision earlier, and if he could muster the nerve, he’d carry it out, right now.

“I saved us the last two slices of chocolate cake.”

“Kinda cancels out the decaf, but I’m game if you are.”

Nadine knew exactly how he liked the table set, with utensils and napkin to the left of the plate, mug at twelve o’clock. A small thing, really, but it mattered. A lot. And the fact that it did bolstered his courage.

She opened the freezer. “Ice cream with your cake?”

“I declare, woman, either you’re trying to make me fat, or—”

She laughed. “As hard as you work around here? You’d need to consume ten thousand calories a day to gain an ounce!”

When she flicked the coffeemaker’s on switch, he wrapped a hand around her slender wrist and pulled her to him.

“Lamont, I’m trying to—”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he interrupted as she struggled against him, “you’re trying to drive me crazy.” Now he wrapped both arms around her. “How do you expect me to react when you stand there, looking all gorgeous, saying and doing sweet things for me?”

She didn’t react, except to stop squirming.

“I’ve made a habit of holding on to something that’s gone,” he said, “and—”

“Rose will never really be gone,” Nadine said, pressing a hand to his chest, “as long as she’s
here.
” She touched a finger to his temple. “And here. I think it’s a wonderful, beautiful thing, the way you love her still.”

Clearly, he wasn’t getting through to her. Somehow, she’d gotten the impression that he was still
in love with
Rose, and that he was trying to excuse and explain the way he’d clung to her memory.

But she couldn’t be further from the truth. Lamont led her to the nearest chair. “Have a seat,” he instructed, and when she opened her mouth to protest, he held up a hand. “Bear with me, okay?”

Bobbing her head, she huffed quietly and plopped onto the cushion.

“I realized something tonight, standing up there in my room, surrounded by decades worth of old photographs—”

Tears shimmered in her eyes when she said, “If my marriage to Ernest had been
half
what yours and Rose’s was, well, you should
never
feel the need to apologize for your loyalty to her. Any woman who’d let a thing like that upset her isn’t worth your time.”

In other words, he thought, smiling,
she
would never
begrudge him fond memories of his wife. Gently, he chucked her chin. “Nadine, darlin’, will you please let me finish?” He cleared his throat. “As I was
saying,
I’ve lived in the past for so long that I almost forgot about the present. And the future.” He got onto one knee in front of her chair, both hands gripping her slender waist. “I loved Rose more than life itself, and sometimes…”

The apprehensive look on her face silenced him, threatening not only to destroy his optimistic mood, but his courage as well. Right before coming downstairs, he’d put the ring into his jeans pocket. Then, as now, he hoped for a moment like this, when he could confess that she was the answer to his prayers.

“The coffee’s done,” she said, trying to wriggle free of his embrace.

“Not so fast. I’ve got something to say, and you’re gonna sit there and let me say it.”

“But it’s late, and we both have to get an early start in the morning.”

“Maybe you really
are
trying to drive me crazy!”

“Lamont.”

He dug the ring out of his pocket and, holding it between thumb and forefinger, said, “Before she died, my grandmother insisted that love would come knocking again.” He turned the ring left, then right. “So what do you say?”

She sat for what seemed like an eternity, blinking and staring at the gold band. Lamont thanked God he couldn’t read her mind, because he had a feeling he wouldn’t like what was going on in that pretty head of hers—not one bit.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Never been more serious in my life.”

“Who designed it?”

What an odd question, he thought, especially at a moment like this. “Grandma always said Grandpa had a poet’s soul, so I guess he gets all the credit.”

Her face went dreamy and her voice got soft as she said, “What does the inscription say?”

“See for yourself.”

“‘Two are better than one.’ From Ecclesiastes.” She handed it back. “It’s beautiful. And the diamonds? What do they signify?”

“Faith, hope and love.”

She nodded somberly. “That’s what I thought.”

This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped it would. Not even close. “Put me out of my misery, and say yes, will you?”

She scooted to the edge of the chair and sat up straight. “I can’t.”

He ran his free hand through his hair. This didn’t make sense! She’d shown him in every way possible that she loved him. “Why
not?
”

“There are a hundred reasons.”

That hurt more than he cared to admit. “Really,” he said, moving to his own chair. “That many.”

She got up, filled two mugs with coffee and carried them both to the table. They sat quietly for a few minutes, sipping coffee and poking at their cake before she broke the tense silence. “With everything that’s going on—Julie missing and Obnoxious in the clinic and the arson charges hanging over my head—I can’t in good conscience burden you with all that. I mean, I know you’re sort of stuck with it, since we’ve been mooching off you for so long. But that’s different from being officially and permanently saddled down by it all.”

He shoved the cake plate away, let his fork clatter to the tabletop. “Never figured you for a hypocrite, Nadine.”

Eyes wide, her eyebrows disappeared beneath her bangs. “A
hypocrite!
”

“All your praying and churchgoing and talk of miracles and God and faith. Where’s all that, huh? Why can’t you
believe
that tomorrow Obnoxious will be home, dogging everybody’s heels, and Julie will turn up, and when she does, we’ll get her the help she needs. Why can’t you accept there’s no way they can hang that arson charge on you, and
believe
in your own innocence, the way I do?”

He couldn’t seem to stop himself. Didn’t
want
to stop himself because, God forgive him, he wanted her to hurt as much as she’d hurt him. “What’s wrong with you that you don’t want to be happy?”

She stared at him for a brittle moment. “I want to be happy,” she said, putting the ring on the table, “but I can’t…no, I won’t take my happiness at your expense.” With that, she got to her feet and strode purposefully toward the door. “Just leave those dishes where they are,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll take care of them in the morning.”

Lamont heard the creak in the upstairs hall, and it told him that Nadine had already ducked into her room. The grandfather clock gonged, telling him it was 2:00 a.m.

And the diamond-studded band that winked up at him from the table told him his heart was breaking, even before tears stung his eyes.

During the next few agonizing days, Lamont found plenty of excuses to stay out of the house. On the rare
occasions when he ran into Nadine, he could barely look at her. He felt like an idiot. And a fool. Because he’d put it all out there, and she’d rejected him. Only losing Rose had hurt as much.

Maybe what he needed was time to himself, in a place where he was sure not to run into her. It had been a while since he’d restocked the bunkhouse. It was as good an excuse to hide out as any.

Miles from the nearest road, the little shack had provided safe haven for many a River Valley ranch hand—and their boss, on occasion—looking to escape the bitter winds of a blizzard or the blinding grit of a dust storm.

He had taken each of his daughters there on their thirteenth birthdays. The first few days, he stayed with them, teaching them how to take care of themselves in the event that they ever got stranded on the prairie. And then he’d left them on their own for a night—or so they thought—bunking down in the back of his pickup half a mile up the road, where he could watch and listen and get to them if anything went wrong. To give them their due, all four girls had stuck it out, and all four of them had thanked him in the ensuing years, for giving them an experience that bolstered their self-confidence. All four had returned from time to time, to cram for exams or heal from a broken heart, always coming home more self-assured than when they’d left.

He’d done what he could to make the place as comfortable as possible, though he refused to run electricity or water to it. Not because of the cost in dollars and energy, but because he liked having a place to go where he could get a sense for what life had been like for his father and grandfather, making it on their own in the
middle of nowhere. If he hadn’t had the girls to take care of, he probably would have moved out there after Rose’s death…and stayed.

He hiked to the equipment shed that housed tractors and old pickups used for moving hay or hauling trash to the road, and saw that his old red truck wasn’t in its usual place. He figured the ranch hands he’d sent to town for rope and saddle wax had taken it. Odd, considering they could have chosen newer, easier-riding vehicles.

Checking the row of hooks on the wall, he chose the keys to his favorite truck. The motor turned over on the very first crank. Maybe he’d bring Frank out here, let him see how
this
’65 Chevy purred, Lamont thought, grinning.

In no time, the bed creaked under the weight of dry and canned goods. If the Canadian River was running, a stranded cowboy—or London daughter—could dip water from its banks and, with a fire in the belly of the woodstove, rustle up a rib-stickin’ meal. But since the construction of several dams upriver, it was more likely that the dry Texas winds had lapped every drop from her banks. Much as Lamont detested the tasteless stuff, he added bottled water to the truck.

He tossed in a metal canister of kitchen matches to light the oil lanterns when night fell. Clean sheets and blankets, secured in plastic bins, would offer comfort to the dog-tired few who find themselves in a position of having to spend a night or two on one of the crude wooden cots. A new first aid kit rounded out his list and, after parking the loaded truck near the back door, he headed for bed.

Lamont tossed and turned, unable to sleep. He didn’t
know which to blame—the fact that Nadine had not agreed to become his wife, or anticipation about visiting the bunkhouse after so many months. Before the sun peeked over the horizon, he found himself heading north, alternately sipping hot black coffee from a Thermos and munching on a cold toaster tart.

He caught himself smiling when the building finally came into view. Silhouetted against the red-streaked morning sky, it sat squat and wide, with nothing but a dozen scraggly salt cedar trees and scrubby shrubs serving as a backdrop. As he got closer, Lamont noticed that the wild grasses had been flattened into two distinct tracks. Tires had caused the paths, and recently, too.

Didn’t seem likely that a drifter had bedded down in the cabin, because the place sat back too far to be seen from the road. Odder still, the door stood slightly ajar. No Texan in his right mind would have done that, for it was a sure way to invite diamondbacks, scorpions and pine caterpillars in out of the sun. Scowling, he made a mental note find out which of the knuckleheads on his payroll had been so careless, and went inside to inspect the usual nooks and crannies. Though the place was critter-free, something seemed off. For starters, it was way too early in the day to be this hot in the bunkhouse.

Just as he’d suspected, Lamont found glowing coals in the belly of the woodstove. The scent of boiled coffee clung to the dry, dusty air, and a soiled crockery bowl sat beside a still-warm pot of stew. An indentation in a bed pillow caught his eye, reminding Lamont that he’d read
The Three Bears
to Amy last evening. Suddenly, he empathized with Papa Bear. Somebody had been sleeping in his bed.

Julie came instantly to mind. What if she’d decided that all she and her young, angry husband needed was some time apart? That’s what had brought Lamont here, after all. And he’d given her free rein of the place. What would have stopped her from borrowing his red truck?

But if she had, where was it?

Peering out each window, Lamont scanned the horizon, hoping for a glimpse of it. Plenty of ways to hide a vehicle out here, if a body had a mind to.

As he off-loaded the supplies, Lamont wondered how she’d survived the days, all by herself, with no money, no running water, no plumbing and no electricity? And if a seasoned cowboy like himself sometimes found nights on the prairie cold and daunting, how had a city girl held out this long? “That’ll teach you not to judge a book by its cover,” he muttered, sliding behind the steering wheel.